you get him to open up to
you
? You’re the only one of us who actually
has
a kid.”
“So far,” Mike put in.
Jo ignored her, as usual. Keeping her gaze fixed on Sam, she said, “He goes to your house after school three days a week to play with Emma. So why don’t
you
tell
me
how he’s doing?”
Jo folded her arms across her chest, knowing she had her sister there. Sam’s daughter, Emma, was a year or so younger than Jack, but the two of them had formed a bond over the last year. “What’d he have to say today? Tell me, O great one with all the answers.”
“Today?” Sam said, swallowing again and rubbing her mouth uneasily. “He didn’t come over today.”
“What do you mean?” A trickle of unease rolled down Jo’s spine. “He was supposed to.”
“He wasn’t there by the time I left. I figured—” She jumped to her feet, one hand clapped tightly to her mouth. “Oooh . . .” Then she bolted for the bathroom.
“Swear to God, I’m
never
getting pregnant,” Jo said, shifting a look at Mike.
“No problem there,” her youngest sister said. “You actually have to have
sex
to get pregnant.”
“Not anymore.”
“Are you
sure
you’re Italian?”
Jo scowled at her and reached across the coffee table for the phone. “Never mind about my sex life—”
“Or lack thereof—” Mike finished for her.
“—the question now is, where’s Jack?”
“Relax, Jo,” Mike said, “this is Chandler, not downtown L.A. He probably stopped at a friend’s house before going to Sam’s.”
“Yeah. Probably.” But as far as Jo knew, their little brother hadn’t made any friends yet. He was quiet and sad and too damn alone all the time. And whether she wanted it or not, she felt fear begin to creep through her bloodstream.
Punching in Sam’s phone number, she listened to it ring for what seemed like forever before a man answered.
“Jeff?” Jo said quickly. “Is Jack there yet?”
Mike watched her from across the table.
“Okay. Okay,” Jo said, nodding as she listened to her brother-in-law’s calm voice. But despite Jeff’s reassurances, her insides started jumping ferociously. “Just—call Mike or call me at Papa’s house when he shows up, okay?”
“Not there?” Sam asked as she came back into the room.
“No.” Jo frowned down at the silent phone and tried to tell herself there was no reason to worry. But how the hell was she supposed to
not
worry?
Mike pushed herself up onto her elbows. “Like I said, he’s probably at a friend’s house, you guys.”
“He doesn’t
have
any friends,” Jo snapped, and jumped to her feet. Pacing wildly, she muttered, “He plays video games. Or reads. Or watches TV. Or studies.”
“Jo . . .” Sam reached out for her, but Jo dodged her sister’s hand.
“No,” she said, “I’ve gotta go. Gotta—” Reaching down, she grabbed up her binder and her dark brown leather purse.
“Where’re you going?” Sam asked.
“To look for him.” Jo was already planning her search route. She knew all the fun spots in Chandler. Having grown up here gave her a huge advantage. First and foremost was the beach, of course, and then there was the lake. God. Did Jack know how to swim? Oh God, put that worry away. Pick it up later.
“You’re worried.”
She looked at Sam and lied. “Not yet.”
“He’s fine,” Mike said, dropping both hands to her belly and stroking her own children in protective reflex. “You know he’s fine,
right
?”
“Sure.” Jo nodded. “I’ll call you la—”
Her cell phone rang and she reached into her purse to grab it. Flipping the top up, she noted the caller’s number and felt a flash of irritation rush through her. Radar, she thought. The man had radar.
“What?” she snarled into the phone.
He talked fast, not giving her a chance to say anything, which was probably just as well. Because at the moment, what she wanted to say would be better said in person.
While holding something heavy.
When he
William K. Klingaman, Nicholas P. Klingaman
John McEnroe;James Kaplan