Bent Road Read Online Free PDF Page B

noses, turns away, she asks, “Is this where everyone meets?”
    “Yes,” Ruth says. “The sheriff will talk from up there.” She motions toward the church’s double doors at the top of the stone staircase. “Except if it’s wintertime. Then we all gather in the church basement.”
    “Does he come every Sunday?”
    “No. Only when he has business, news to tell.”
    Celia pulls the gold pins from her pillbox hat, drops them into her change pouch and tucks the hat under one arm. “News of what?”
    Ruth lowers her head and glances over her shoulder in a way that Celia has come to recognize as common.
    “A girl,” she says. “A local girl’s gone missing.”
    Behind them, a car pulls up to the curb and parks. The congregation quiets as a small, narrow-shouldered man steps out of a black and white police car. He wears a dark blue uniform and a beige tie that has pulled loose at the knot and hangs crooked around his open collar. Passing them by, he tips his hat, seemingly at Ruth, and shakes a few hands as he makes his way to the top of the stairs, where he waits silently, hands on hips. The churchgoers gathering on the sidewalk push Celia and Ruth to the back.
    “Some of you folks will already be knowing this,” the sheriff says, clearing his throat into a closed fist. The six-pointed silver star pinned to his shirt sparkles in the sunlight. “But I’ll tell you all now. Little Julianne Robison has turned up missing.” He pauses again. “Her folks called us in last evening. Now, chances are the child has just wandered off. Lost her way in the fields or maybe down by the river. Out playing is all she was doing.”
    Shielding her eyes with one hand and holding her hair with the other, Celia steps away from the crowd so she can see Daniel and Evie. They both stand where last she saw them—in the steeple’s shadow this side of the whitewashed fence that wraps around the church’s small cemetery. Evie is bent down near the fence, picking the downy-like seeds from a dandelion. Daniel, standing with both hands shoved in his front pockets, watches the sheriff.
    “I’ll need for any of you kids to talk with me if you’ve seen our Julianne of late,” the sheriff says. “Some of us men have already been out looking but I’d like the rest of you gentlemen to join us in a search. We’ll start our looking in town and work our way out. Orville and Mary say the girl’s prone to going off alone. A hungry stomach’ll probably bring her home, but the more of you can help, the quicker we’ll all get home to Sunday supper.”

    T aking a step backward because the shade from the steeple keeps falling away from him, Daniel sees the crippled boy leaning on the bumper of a truck parked across the street, rubbing his thighs with the palm of each hand. Waiting until the boy glances his way, Daniel gives a wave. The boy waves back, pushes himself off the bumper and walks across the street. Step, step, pause. Step, step, pause, until he reaches the tip of the shade where Daniel stands.
    “Hey,” the boy says, crossing his arms and leaning against the white wooden fence that separates them from the cemetery.
    “Hey.”
    “Name’s Ian.”
    “I’m Daniel. This is Evie.”
    Evie blows a tuft of dandelion feathers at Ian.
    “What do you think?” Ian asks, nodding at the sheriff still standing near the church doors.
    “Didn’t know her.”
    “She’s younger.” He dips his head toward Evie. “More about her age.”
    “Sounds like she’ll be home by dinner,” Daniel says, watching all the Bucher brothers meet up at the truck Ian had been leaning against. Like the red ants in Mama’s kitchen, they keep coming, one after another.
    “Like hell,” Ian says, shuffling closer. “I know what happened. I know exactly what happened.” He pauses and looks around like he’s afraid someone might hear. “After Jack Mayer escaped from Clark City, he snatched her right up. That’s what happened.”
    Daniel crosses his arms