The Starfish Sisters: A Novel(84)

“Let’s get back to the house,” he says, and leads the way. I follow on feet that weigh a million pounds.

Jasmine!





Chapter Twenty-Four


Suze


I’m exhausted by everything—the emotional upheavals on every level, and Joel, and memories, and the terror that Jasmine might be hurt somewhere. I adore this child, and can’t bear the idea of her alone in the dark. Or worse.

The search has been called off due to rain and darkness, and I was going to stay with Phoebe, sleep upstairs so she wouldn’t be alone, but she said, “Just go home, Suze. I need to be alone.”

“Phoebe, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She gave me a murderous look, as if somehow this were my fault. “I want to be alone.”

“Are you—”

“I can’t, Suze! I can’t talk.”

Which made me think about that letter, the letter she never gave me, and I want to shake her, but I also want Jasmine home, safe and sound, and on some level, I know Phoebe is barely hanging on. In this moment, out of respect for my long love of her, I can give her some space.

Even if a hole is burning through my chest.

Ben shook his head, so Joel drove me back up the hill. “We’ll keep calling, looking, okay? She’s somewhere. We’ll find her.”

At home, lying in the dark, I find myself praying. An actual prayer, not the wordless things I sometimes send up out of habit, the pleas or the longing, or the apology, things I can’t seem to get out of my system. Once upon a time, I liked praying. It soothed me.

So lying there on my back with Yul Brynner on my belly, purring, I pray, specifically to Jesus, the nice God, the one who loves children (all the children of the world). “You know where she is, Jesus. Please send extra angels to look out for her. Keep her warm and dry. Don’t let anything hurt her. Show us where she is.”

It gives me peace to hand it over, and I start to drift off.

Until I wake up suddenly.

I know where she might be.

The night she stayed over with me, we walked to the beach by going down through town to pick up snacks. On the way, we passed the church and the bus, the paint Phoebe and Victor applied faded to almost nothing.

Did anyone check it? I fling the covers off and yank clothes on over my pajamas. I don’t have a car here, so I’ll have to walk, and it’s very dark. Pressing my lips together, I wonder if I should call Phoebe, but what if Jasmine isn’t there and it just gets her hopes up?

I should call Joel to go with me, but as absurd as it is, I don’t have his actual number. We haven’t made that connection yet.

It isn’t far, maybe two blocks down the hill, and then another two to the lot where the bus is. Maui is with me, and I have good boots and a flashlight. It’s pouring down rain, which will keep everybody but me inside.

I don’t have a leash for Maui, and I’m worried that he might take off after some little animal, so I tie a long scarf around his neck and he accepts it happily. “You’re such a good dog. Maybe I need a dog.”

His calm eyes agree with me. I have my phone in my pocket, an umbrella over both of us, and a flashlight in my leash hand.

It’s really dark. The road is awash in mud and puddles that make a mess of my hems. Maui doesn’t seem to mind, trotting out slightly ahead of me.

A sound behind me, cracking or a snap or something not quite right, makes me spin around, the flashlight creating an arc that catches on a figure, then swings by, and I try to swing back but my hands are shaking and I miss the first time, then center in on—

Joel.

“What are you doing?” I cry. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“What are you doing? I slept in the truck in case anyone bothered you.”

“Joel!” It shatters me. I close my eyes. “I would have let you stay.”

“It doesn’t matter. What the hell are you doing?”

I grab his arm. The more the merrier. “I might know where Jasmine is. Also, you need to give me your number.”

“Do you want to just drive? It would be a lot drier?”

I pause. “Yes. That would be much better.”



The old block is deeply creepy at night. I’ve never been out here except in the daytime. My old bedroom window is shattered, and the house is decrepit. “Why haven’t they torn all that down?” I ask as we pull up. “Turn off your lights so she doesn’t know we’re coming.”

“What difference does it make?”

“I want to scare the shit out of her, that’s what difference it makes.”

We creep up to the bus. “What if she’s not even here?” he asks.

“I can’t think about that.”

The door is broken and stands open. I tiptoe up the three stairs as quietly as possible, peeking over the edge of the half wall, holding my breath. Please be here please be here please be here.

A lump of blankets is pressed against the wall on one of the platforms. I tiptoe over and reach under. Just before I do, my LA mind kicks in and I’m afraid it might be a homeless person, but my hand closes around a small ankle.

She wakes up, yelling at the top of her lungs. “Go away! I’ll hit you with a rock!” Then she sees me. “Suze! You scared me half to death!”