“I’m gonna need her to try. The necklace is a great start, but we lost a lot of evidence with the barn. Every little piece is extra important right now.”
My baby girl smooths her lips together and nods. She kneels in front of McKenzie and strokes her hair, cooing softly.
“Kenzie,” Holly says. “Kenzie, it’s just you and me now. Just like old times.”
McKenzie’s rocking slows. She doesn’t respond, but she does open her eyes. Holly cradles her friend’s face in her hands.
“I need you to tell me which way you ran,” Holly says.
McKenzie shakes her head and starts to cry again. Holly pets her cheeks.
“Shh,” she whispers. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m going to take you home. But first I need you to show me which way to go. Show me how you came back to me.”
Gently, Holly pulls McKenzie to her feet. McKenzie winces in pain from the exertion, wipes her nose, and scans the tree line. She points to a slight gap between two evergreens.
“There,” she says.
I whistle for one of the techs to follow me to the edge of woods. As we pass by the girls, I reach out and squeeze Holly’s arm.
“Good job, baby,” I whisper.
She smiles, proud of herself, as she damn well should be. Being here, with all these people, must be taxing for her, but my baby girl’s holding it together beautifully.
“Austin,” I call over my shoulder. “Take the girls back to the truck. Get ‘em outta this smoke.”
Chapter Thirty
Holly
The three of us head back to Austin’s once it becomes clear Kenzie’s memory isn’t going to tell the police anything they don’t already know.
I try to nap with Kenzie in the upstairs bedroom for a while, but my mind won’t shut off. I keep wondering if they’ve caught the man who hurt Kenzie, and how long it’ll be before Cal comes home.
Austin notices me pacing in the kitchen. “You look like you could use a project.”
“Yes, please,” I tell him. “Anything to shut my mind up.”
He grabs a few bags of dried beans from the pantry and tells me to look through them for stones. By the time Cal does make it back, it’s after sundown, and the cooked beans are refrying on the stove.
My heart expands like bubblegum at the sight of Cal coming through the doorway. I set down the masher I’ve been using to smush the beans and gallop into his waiting arms.
“You smell good, baby girl,” Cal says, drawing me close.
“That’s the garlic,” I tell him. “We’re making nachos.”
“Don’t think the scent of garlic’s ever gotten me hard before,” he growls. “Pretty sure that’s all you.”
Heat rushes up my neck. He kisses me on the lips, then glances into the kitchen, at Austin stirring the seasoned beef and Kenzie arranging tortilla chips on a baking sheet.
“She’s doing a lot better,” I whisper. “I think today was good for her. Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” Cal drapes his coat on the back of a chair and washes his hands in the sink.
We finish prepping the nachos, layering beef, cheese, and refried beans with chips on the baking sheet. Austin slides the whole thing into the oven to melt the cheese.
Kenzie shifts restlessly as we wait for the food. She seems to have the hardest time when there’s nothing to do but think. I know exactly how that feels.
“Let’s pour everyone’s tea,” I suggest to her. She doesn’t outright thank me, but I can tell she appreciates the distraction by how focused she is on making sure each glass has the exact same amount of sweet tea.
Austin pulls the bubbling tray out of the oven, dishes out four plates and tops each one with fresh-made salsa and a hefty spoonful of sour cream. We dig in, munching greedily. I’m desperate to ask Cal if they’ve caught Hoyt yet, but I don’t want to put Kenzie off her meal.
I hop in the downstairs shower after dinner to wash the day’s stress off me. I’m on my way upstairs to ask Kenzie if she needs anything before bed, when I overhear her and Austin talking in her room.
I linger on the staircase, not sure if I should keep going or leave them alone. I have noticed Austin looking at her, and not looking at her, which can say more about a person’s intentions than any outward gestures they perform. From Kenzie’s tone, it doesn’t sound like she’s anxious or on the verge of tears. I don’t know Austin well at all, but Cal trusts him, and he’s been nothing but kind and respectful toward us. For one, he’s letting us crash at his house for who knows how long.
Knowing Kenzie’s comfortable talking to someone other than me gives me a twinge of hope that her warm, affable self is still in there somewhere. Rather than disturb them, I head back downstairs to the gym, where I walk in on Cal in the middle of pulling off his slacks.