Chapter 32: Chapter Thirty-One

Daniel pulled the pizza from the oven and divided it up on two plates.

The card games this afternoon had gone well. He could see she was relaxing, getting more comfortable with him. That was the whole point.

Get her to like being with you.

He called up the stairs. “Hannah, supper’s ready.” He no longer hesitated to call her by her right name. That other name was from her life with Susan. That was over now.

She came downstairs, carrying one of the books he’d found for her earlier. They’d been tucked away in the basement—looked like old-fashioned books for girls. He didn’t know if she liked to read, but she had seemed glad to get them.

“How’s that book?” he asked. “Which one are you reading?”

She held the cover up. “Little Women. It’s good.”

“What’s it about?”

She sat down at the table, laying the book beside her plate. “It’s about some girls. They live with their mom. It’s in olden times.” She picked up her pizza and took a big bite.

Daniel nodded, chewing. He couldn’t think of anything else to ask her about the book. They ate in silence for a few minutes.

Meanwhile Patricia kept whispering to him. Start talking about going to the farm. Sell her on the idea.

He knew they couldn’t stay here much longer. Police were putting her photo out there, asking people to watch for her. And they might come back, check his house again.

Get her away from here. Don’t let them take Hannah.

Staying in this area was a risk. Someone could recognize her, and he couldn’t let that happen. They had to get on the road, get out of the city.

But he first had to get her thinking that way. “What would you say about going on a trip?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Who? You and me?”

“And Tucker.”

She swallowed the bite she’d been chewing. “What kind of trip?”

“A trip in the truck. The weather looks good for a few days, and we could head out west.”

She pushed the pizza around her plate. “Where out west?”

“I was thinking we’d head for Alberta. To the farm.” Seeing her blank expression, he added, “Where I live.”

She frowned. “I thought you lived here.”

“No, this was my aunt’s house. She died in the spring. I’m just clearing it out, getting it ready for sale.” He reached for another slice of pizza. “My home’s in Alberta. Our home. We’ll go back there.”

She didn’t say anything, just took a bite of her pizza and chewed it, watching him.

Tell her about the farm.

“It’s a grain farm, mostly…” He could see her losing interest.

Don’t be so boring.

What would grab her attention? “The neighbors raise alpacas—you know what those are. They’re from South America? Look like llamas or little camels?”

She turned back to him, her eyes widening. So she was interested in animals?

Encouraged, he continued. “They’re friendly and fun to watch—they race around like crazy sometimes. That farm has goats and sheep too.”

She rubbed her hand across her mouth. “Do you have animals on your own farm? Like cows?”

Good—she was asking questions. “No, not anymore. We used to raise beef cattle, and we had chickens and turkeys, but we gave them up.”

Too bad. That sounds more interesting than grain.

“But across the road there’s a horse farm, with riding stables. Have you ever ridden a horse?”

She’d perked up now. “No, but I’d like to.”

He went on. “And we do have wild animals. There are deer living in the woods behind our barn. They come right up into the yard sometimes, almost up to the porch. And there are beavers who’ve built a dam in our creek; they’re pretty interesting.”

He remembered something else. “There’s a treehouse I built for Kelly. It’s still in good shape. You could have fun up there.”

She raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything. She’d finished her pizza, all but the last crust.

He watched her uneasily. He probably shouldn’t push this too hard yet. That was enough for now, get her thinking. “We can talk about it more tomorrow. Would you like to play cards again tonight?”

“Okay.” She pushed back her chair and took her plate to the sink, throwing her crust to Tucker on the way. He caught it before it hit the floor.

Daniel filled the sink with hot water and wiped the counter. Patricia always insisted on a tidy kitchen.

Maddy sat at the table, dealing out the cards after an awkward attempt at shuffling them.

He weighed the logistics of them leaving. They had to get out of the city without her being recognized.

Try to find a way to disguise her.

Could he cut her hair? Or maybe just cover it up. If it was cold, she could wear a toque. Or a baseball cap. And he’d have to get her another jacket, not the green one that was mentioned in the broadcast.

But he didn’t want to tell her it was a disguise. She didn’t know there’d been a citywide alert.

She didn’t have many clothes with her at all, just what she was wearing. Maybe she had brought something else in her backpack, but it couldn’t be much. She’d need more things.

He’d never shopped for a girl—Patricia had done all the shopping for Kelly, before Kelly started to buy her own clothes. But he supposed he could get her some clean underwear at least. Maybe a sweater or two. And some mitts.

He watched her sorting the cards in her hand. “You’ll need more clothes for the trip,” he said. “I’ll get some things for you tomorrow.”

She raised her eyes. “Can I come with you?”

“No,” he said, “you need to stay inside the house while I’m gone.” He could see she was about to object, so he quickly added the point she’d made herself earlier. “You don’t want anyone to see you. Not yet, anyway. Right? Isn’t that what you said yesterday?”

She gave a small nod, looking uncertain.

He continued, “After a couple of days on the road, we’ll find a place to do some more shopping. You can pick out what you like then.”

“All right.” She appeared to accept that. She gathered up the cards and reshuffled them.

Plans for the trip kept swirling in his head. He didn’t think they could get away sooner than Saturday; he had to do that shopping, and there were still things to do around the house before he left. Besides, he wanted to get on the road early, and there’d be less of a morning rush hour on a Saturday. He’d have to let Gord and Pete know that he was leaving. There wasn’t much left for them to do on the house, anyway.

Tomorrow he’d see if he could finish replacing the post on the back porch that he’d been working on. Along with shopping for Hannah’s clothes.

****

Marie dropped off the pile of posters at my house around seven. Most were on letter-size paper, though a dozen or so were blown up to a bigger size. The poster was bilingual, with MISSING PERSON/PERSONNE DISPARUE in large print across the top, and Maddy’s name underneath. An image of her smiling face was centered below that. It was the photo I’d given Bob the night before. The bottom third of the poster gave details about Maddy, in both English and French—age, height, coloring, when she disappeared, what she was wearing—followed by an appeal for anyone who had information to call the Missing Persons’ phone number.

Staring at the poster, I felt a chill. Somehow seeing it in print solidified Maddy’s absence, made it official. But I squared my shoulders and turned to Jenny, who was standing beside me in the hallway. “Right. Let’s get as many of these up tonight as we can.”

She nodded. “Tom’s wife, Amy, is coming to help, and so’s my next-door neighbor Bonnie. They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“You’re great. Thanks.” I could always count on Jenny to be practical, to get things moving.

And move we did, the four of us, putting up posters on both sides of Bank Street all the way from Wellington to the canal. Amy and Jenny took the west side of the street, while Bonnie and I did the east.

Bonnie proved to be a young mother in her thirties, energetic and cheerful, wearing a puffy jacket and toque against the cold. The two of us developed a rhythm as we moved down the street, one carrying our stack of posters, the other attaching them to poles. Amy and Jenny were using a similar routine.

By nine we were exhausted. I had imagined covering the city with posters. But it was going to take more than one evening to get posters distributed even in the main areas of the downtown, let alone farther out.

Much as I hoped the posters would prove unnecessary—surely Maddy would be back by tomorrow?—I couldn’t keep dark fears from burying that hope. What’s she going through?

Jenny and Amy crossed the street to join us. Amy said, “If it’s okay with you, I’ll post a copy of the poster on social media and ask people to repost. Hopefully we can reach a lot of people on Facebook and Twitter. And Instagram.”

My depleted energy level must have shown in my face. Jenny took one look and said, “I think we’ve done as much as we can do tonight. We can come again tomorrow, and we’ll get more people to help.”

Part of me wanted to insist we should keep going. But she was right. It was time to call it a night.

****

After Hannah was in bed, Daniel locked the front and back doors, pushing the sliding deadbolts into place; these were positioned high enough that he didn’t think she could easily reach them. From his earlier work at the house, he knew most of the windows were painted shut, other than a couple in the kitchen, which she likely wouldn’t figure out.

He stared at the door of the room Hannah was using. It didn’t have a lock, and it opened inward. He couldn’t think of a way to make sure she stayed in there, but decided it’d be okay. She might need the bathroom in the night anyway.

And he was a light sleeper. He’d hear her if she left her room.