Conflicts of the Heart (30 page)

“Are you the mother?”

Dana nodded, biting back tears. More than ever, she wanted to stay in control. “Has anyone started to look for him?”

“
Has anything happened recently that might give someone reason to take him?”

“Yes. His father and I are going through a custody battle.”

“We've searched the immediate area. His being out on the flats in this heat is unlikely.

“Your son is retarded, isn't he?”

“He's autistic. If he's out there alone--” She nodded toward the dry rolling hills surrounding the day care center. “He won't survive by himself. He's never been alone.”

“This is the tenth case we've had in the past few months--kids disappearing,” he groused in a faraway tone.
“What about my ex-husband?”

The sheriff rubbed his jaw. “Where is he?”

“Palo Alto.” She reached into her purse and pulled out Joel's business card.

“I'll get someone on it. In the meantime, we have to search here while we still have light.”

Dana's heart sank. If Joel wasn’t involved, he'd have the ammunition he needed to prove her an unfit mother.

Patrick released Dana's rigid arm and stepped next to the sheriff.
“I'm Patrick Mitchell, a friend of the family's.” He offered his hand.

..
“Nice to meet you. I'm Lieutenant Sommers, Search and Rescue. I've got every man I can spare out here.”

“Mrs. Claiborne and I want to go along.”

“You can ride with me.” The lieutenant stepped up on a large piece of granite and addressed the search party. “Vehicles will take all the surrounding roads, horses spread out through the foothills and the chopper will work the hills. We should be able to cover a large area before dark.” He glanced at his watch. “We've got a few hours.”

“What happens if we don't find him by dark?” Dana feared the answer.

“We suspend the search until daybreak.”

“Oh my God.”
The thought of Michael out in the foothills alone in the dark horrified her more than anything she could imagine. Why was everyone she loved being yanked away from her?

A reporter from the local paper talked to bystanders and took notes.

“I've got to call my mother before she hears about this on the news,” Dana said to Ruta.

Inside the house, her fingers trembled as she punched the number. “Mother,” she told the
voice mail. “Michael has wandered off from the day care center. We're leaving with the search party in a few minutes. Please call me on my cell phone when you get in.” Dana paced the room. Emptiness engulfed her. Ruta walked over to her and rubbed Dana's arm, not saying a word. Her eyes spoke volumes.

Patrick called from the front porch. “We're leaving. If you want to ride with the lieutenant, we have to go.”

“I'll stay here and handle this end. You go, child.” Ruta’s eyes misted. She understood why Ruta felt responsible. Thank goodness that the other children had gone home for the day.

“They'll find him.” Ruta clenched her hands into fists, “I just know they will.”

Dana gave Ruta a reassuring hug and whispered in her ear, “This isn’t your fault. You've been so wonderful to Michael.” Pulling away, she went to meet Patrick on the porch.

“The helicopter will come in at dusk. The rest of us will pull back
at dark. I want continuous updates. We’ll use extenders to communicate with car radios. Let's move out. It'll be dark before we know it.”

The sheriff's words--dark before we know it--rang in Dana's ears. What if they couldn’t find Michael by nightfall? Her stomach churned with fear. Patrick helped her into the backseat.
Sommers and his deputy slid into the front.

Sultry, late September heat smothered her until the air-conditioning reached
the backseat.

They crawled along Copper Avenue at twenty-five miles an hour. Dana scrutinized every inch of dry, barren land. Every once in a while, an extender shattered the silence, with reports from the helicopter or cars involved in the search.
Nothing new. Empty words. No sign of Michael. The chance of finding him before dark lessened. Dana's panic heightened. The more she thought about it, the more she believed Joel had had something to do with this.

Patrick yelled, “Stop!”

Had he seen something? He jumped out of the car, and ran to the bushes near a creek bed several yards from the road and threaded his way through the tall brown cattails.

From the sound of Patrick's loud “no,” Dana knew he hadn’t found her son

Patrick slammed the car door behind him in disgust. She leaned on his shoulder and closed her eyes, thinking she should have never left Michael that morning. Why had she not taken him with her when she waved goodbye and she had a gut feeling he might be in deep trouble?

“What was it?”

He shook his head. “A lone calf drinking water.”

A blue haze, the first sign of dusk, settled in. The search would soon end.

“We'll resume at dawn. We’ve alerted the entire city. As you heard, the media’s out in full force to help.” Sommers glanced at Dana over his shoulder. “We'll do everything within our power to find him, Mrs. Claiborne.” He paused. “We'll work on his father tonight.” His tone was ominous as if he sensed her discomfort.

Back at Ruta's, Dana trudged into the house. Her mother waited with an anxious expression on her face.

They embraced, patting each other's backs. It surprised Dana her mother had come all the way

he
re.

“Would you like some tea or coffee?” Ruta asked.

Dana shook her head. “Nothing, thanks.” She had never seen this much sadness in Patrick’s eyes before. Michael must mean more to him than she realized.

The search party straggled in--cars, horses, volunteers on foot--all vacant eyed. No little boy. Sadness cloaked the house. The local press hung around outside for an interview with “the lady” who’d been on the news earlier that morning trying to avert a strike at Templeton Hospital.

When Dana stepped out on the porch, bulbs flashed. A TV camera with its single spotlight lit Dana's ashen face. As torn up as she was, she tried to speak with decorum and dignity. She held her own with those news hounds fishing out a story for the late news and the morning paper. If they didn’t find Michael by morning, the story would go national. An Amber Alert would go into effect.

“All I want in this whole world is my son back. I can't believe he's out in the wilderness all by himself.” She raised her head and gazed vacantly into the camera's eye. “He's autistic, you know.” Her voice became whispery soft. “He can't take care of himself. There are snakes and coyotes that come out at night.” She swallowed hard.

Her mother stepped up and looped her arm through Dana's. “This is very hard on my daughter.” She dismissed the press with her usual aplomb. “We know the sheriff's department is doing everything in its power to find my grandson. They'll share anything with you as soon as we hear. Thank you.”

Astonished by her mother's concern for them, Dana looked at her, bewildered. With a strong arm, her mother shepherded her out of the spotlight, away from the crowd, back into the quiet dining room.

“Now what?” Dana sat at the long table, staring up at her mother for direction.

Patrick wended his way into the dining room. “I found ten volunteers who live around these parts willing to go out with me
tonight and continue the search. I won't stop until I've found him.”

Dana rose from her chair. “You mean it? You'd do that for us?”

“I'll stay here with her,” her mother squeezed Dana’s shoulder. “You must be the Patrick Mitchell I saw on the news today with the nurses.”

“I am.
Nice to meet you, Mrs. Moran.” He shook her hand.

“It seems strange…you and my daughter scrapping over the negotiating table and all, then out here--”

“We're friends, Mother. We don't scrap.” She hadn’t meant to sound so defensive.

The crowd thinned when the press and TV crew left. A few women from the neighborhood brought food to feed the remaining search party before they went back out.

“Would you like me to call my doctor and have him come by to give you something to help you rest?” Ruta asked.

“No. I'm going out with them.”

“No,” Patrick ordered gently. “You stay here with your mother and Ruta. Wait until we get back. You need rest. It’d be a terrific idea if the doctor did come by and give you something to calm you down.” He took her by the shoulders. “Let me do this for you.” He gave a slight grin. “You've got circles under your eyes big enough to land that helicopter on.” He managed to pull a reluctant smile from her.

“Thank you, but I must go.” She tugged away from his grip, swayed a bit. Her fatigue level

was higher than she realized. He reached out and took hold of her.

“Okay.” She caved in. “I'd just slow you down. The main thing is not who's searching but that Michael’s found.”

“You can use the spare room upstairs to rest.” Ruta sounded as motherly as she appeared. “First you need something to eat.”

“I couldn't.” Dana crinkled her nose at the sound of food. Her mother rummaged through her oversized carpetbag and pulled out a prescription bottle. “I have some sedatives you can take to relax. I don't think she needs a doctor.” Her mother paused, her stern, unapproachable manner thawing before Dana's eyes. “I'll stay with you, honey.”

The warmth in her mother's voice confused Dana. Did it take a disaster to bring her around?

After the remaining volunteers devoured the sandwiches and snacks, they gathered out front. At the door, Patrick turned and nodded. “Get some rest. Maybe when you awaken I'll have good news for you.”

Dana didn’t hold out much hope. She still believed Joel had taken Michael. Resigned to wait it out, she went upstairs to the spare room to lie down. The large room might have been an attic at one time with its steepled ceiling. The furnishings were sparse with a double bed, a tall, old chiffonier, and a bentwood rocking chair next to the bed on a large, well-worn hook rug.

A brisk northern wind from the Sierras whipped up, jostling a tree branch against the house. Icy fear twisted around her heart. All she could see in her mind's eye was Michael, out there somewhere, alone, scared, huddling in some crevice, shielding
himself from the cold night air. The weather was unpredictable this time of year--hot days, cold nights, sometimes rain, wild winds like the one blowing now. What would she do if they didn’t find him?

“Take this. It'll calm you down.” Her mother held out a pill and a glass of water from the antique vessel on the dresser. “You'll relax.”

“No thanks. I must be alert in case they find Michael.”

Her mother leaned over and propped Dana's pillows. “Lie down. I'll take your shoes off. If you'd like, we can sit and talk until you get sleepy.”

Dana couldn’t remember when her mother had treated her with so much tenderness.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“It feels good having you here.” Dana shot up, grabbed her mother, and held on to her. “I'm so glad you were here when we came in this evening. I needed you more than ever, Mother.”

“Oh, honey. I'm so afraid for you and Michael.”

Her mother drew back and gazed into Dana's eyes with more love and understanding than Dana had seen since she was a child.

“Don't you think we should go downstairs and call Joel?”

Dana jerked away. “Let the police handle him. I'm so frightened. If he didn't have anything to do with this, he'll use it against me.”

She took deep breaths and tried to let her muscles relax. “I can't
talk right now. I'm getting sleepy. Let's talk tomorrow….” Her voice trailed off. The last words she heard her mother say were, “Don't you worry.” Dana fell asleep.

An hour later, she awoke, sitting up with a start from a bad dream about Michael, running, calling to her. She wanted to chase him, but it was as if her legs were hardened by cement, preventing her from moving.

In the darkened room, she stared up at the beams, her eyes filled with tears. “Please, dear God, let them find him, all safe and sound.”

The wind had died down. The room fell silent. Her mother sat in the bentwood, sleeping, and her hair down on her shoulders. A softness Dana had never seen etched composure onto her face.

She stirred. “You're awake?”

“Yes.” She reached out and took her hand. “I love you, Mom.” Margaret smiled.

Dana let go of her mother's hand. “Why’d you come out here?”

“When I heard that lost sound in your voice on the answering
machine, I knew you needed me.” She glanced down to her lap. “Michael needed me. I’m a hardened old woman who needs her head examined before it’s too late.”

“We've always needed you.” Dana checked her watch. The search party had not come in. She froze
.

“What's wrong?” Her mother took Dana's hand in hers.

“What kind of chance do I have winning with Joel?”

“What on earth are you babbling about?”