Chapter Nine
We were almost in Peterborough when Jack said, "What's this?" and I looked over to see my Sammi notes on his lap. I took them and slid the book down beside me.
"Just something I'm working on."
"Job?"
I shook my head, signaled, and moved into the left lane. When I was past the transport, I moved back.
"Gonna tell me?"
The truth was that I was dying to tell someone, to get a second opinion, and no one was safer than Jack. So I filled him in.
"I know," I said when I finished. "I should leave it to the police, but they've made it very clear that - "
"They aren't interested."
"That's just it. No one's interested. Her mother's a piece of work, so no big shock there, but nobody in town seems to care. These aren't bad people. If it was Tess or Kira or any of the other girls in town, there would be search teams combing the forests. But with Sammi it seems like, even if something did happen, it's..." I fumbled for the words.
"Expected."
I nodded. "Like she was heading that way all her life. Made to be broken."
The last words came out as a whisper, echoing through the years.
"Hmmm?" Jack said.
I picked up the notes. "Would you mind looking them over? Tell me if I'm... I don't know. Being paranoid."
Part of me hoped Jack would say that all signs indicated Sammi had run off and I was making a big deal out of nothing. But he agreed there were too many factors arguing against it.
We discussed it as I headed up Highway 55. I was in the middle of telling him more about Janie when the faded highway sign for Bob's Wild Kingdom flew past, and I hit the brakes.
"Cougar."
"Huh?"
I turned onto the exit ramp. "There's something I need to check out."
Sometime in the last week, kids camping near the Potter place said they'd heard a cougar in the forest. Sunday night, Meredith had watched Sammi and Destiny walk heading toward the road that led past the Potter place.
"The only cougars within an hour's drive are the ones in this roadside zoo," I told Jack. "A big cat raised in captivity wouldn't know how to hunt normal prey, meaning if one did escape, it would get very hungry and it wouldn't be afraid of humans."
He nodded slowly. "It could kill the girl. Drag her off. Come back for the baby."
He said it without emotion. Not coldly, just matter-of-fact. I tried to keep my thoughts as logical, not to picture the scenario he'd described.
"I didn't see any signs of a struggle near the road," I said. "But it had been a few days and there was rain... Still, it doesn't account for the missing stroller."
"Could have fallen into the ditch. Or been dragged. Cat trying to get the baby out."
I looked out the passenger window.
"Or maybe it wasn't a cat," he said after a moment.
"Maybe."
I made a cell phone call before we reached the zoo. Kira's mother, Meredith, was a member of Zoocheck Canada, an animal protection agency that monitored the conditions of circuses and roadside zoos. Meredith had been trying to get Bob's Wild Kingdom closed for years. Every few months, I signed her petition.