"What do you want us to do?" Deputy Marsh asked. He still had Daniel by the arm. "We can take this one down to the station if you want."
"On what charges?" Dad turned to the crowd, his voice raised. "The baby simply wandered away. Daniel brought him back to us. That's all there is to it." He inclined his head to the deputy, telling him to release Daniel. "Thank you, everyone, for helping us in our time of need," he said in his best pastor voice. "I'm sure you all have festivities waiting for you. And if you don't mind, my family has a few things to attend to."
Dad turned to my mom. "Meredith, take James inside. I'm going to see what I can do about the fence. Daniel, Jude, come with me."
Jude was standing now, but he cowered from Dad's touch. He shook his head and then jogged into the house. April appeared from the crowd and padded after him.
"Daniel?" Dad asked.
Something was very wrong with the look in my father's eyes.
Daniel gave a slight nod and went with him.
Dad must have sensed my longing to follow. "Gracie, go help your mother," he said. His voice was so strained it sounded like he was holding his breath as he spoke. I stood in the grass and watched them go around behind the house. The deputy and sheriff grumbled and trudged over to their car. Our friends and neighbors trickled away--just like my hope for fixing Daniel and Jude.
Chapter Twelve Questions Unanswered
IN THE HOUSE, ABOUT TWENTY MINUTES LATER
My mother flipped into full Florence Nightingale mode. She refused to let the sheriff take James to the hospital in Oak Park, insisting that she and Dr. Connors were quite capable of looking him over. After a very thorough examination by the doctor, she finally let James out of her arms and ordered Charity to get started on a bath to warm him up. Then she put Superman Band-Aids on the scratches Don Mooney had somehow gotten up his arm, and sent the last of our lingering guests home with leftovers from our abandoned dinner. I was about to sneak out the back door to try to find Daniel when Mom called me over to the kitchen table.
"Let's take a look at your hand."
I winced as she picked a few rocks out of the cut.
She clucked her tongue. "You're lucky you don't need stitches." I let her clean my hand and tried not to squirm. I figured the less I protested, the faster I could get to Daniel. He'd promised to explain things to me. But what if he decided to slip away? I'd seen the things he could do, and with Jude's false accusations, Daniel could be out of the state before I could even start looking for him.
Mom placed my hand in a bowl of hydrogen peroxide. "Just relax for a minute," she said, and unpacked the gauze and tape from her first-aid kit.
Little bubbles tingled up from all over my skin. My mind wandered, replaying the things Daniel had done in the woods--and how it felt to run with him in the dark. I barely noticed as Mom dried my hand and wrapped it with gauze.
"All done." She patted down the last piece of medical tape and held my hand for a moment.
"Gracie," she said without looking up at me. "Please do not invite that boy into our home again." She laid my hand on the table between us and busied herself packing everything back into her kit.
I nodded even though she probably couldn't see.
"Mom," Charity called down the stairs. "James refuses to get out of the bath until he has his blanket."
"I'll get it," I said, glad for the momentary distraction.
Mom nodded. "I'll be up in a minute," she called back to Charity. I checked James's room first, but Aunt Carol was asleep in the guest bed in his room. She'd excused herself with a headache as soon as Dr. Connors announced that James was in perfect health. I remembered that James's blanket was probably still in the study.
The doors were slightly ajar when I slipped inside. James's Portacrib was still on its side. I tipped it upright and found the blankie. I picked it up and was about to dash off to the upstairs bath when a sudden thought stopped me. If James had really wandered off, wouldn't he have taken this with him? That blue rag of a crocheted blanket went everywhere my little brother did. He never left it behind.
Daniel's words when I said that James couldn't have gone so far into the woods echoed in my ears: On his own, no.
Was it a mistake to send the sheriff away? It seemed like they had just arrived when Daniel and I returned with James. Had they taken pictures or looked for any clues? Jude had accused Daniel, but that couldn't be. My father insisted that it was just an accident. But Daniel--he had been afraid of something.
I looked around the study, really noticing things for the first time since I entered. Dad's books and papers were strewn across the floor. His lamp was tipped over, and the drawer of his desk was open. It looked like a small earthquake had erupted inside of it. Had an intruder been in here looking for something? But wouldn't we have heard any of this commotion in the dining room? Maybe Mom had started throwing things while she was so distraught? Several books were missing from the bookcase. The bookcase!
I lunged over to it and stretched up on my toes. I fingered along the top shelf, back and forth. The black velvet case--the one that held Don's silver dagger--was gone.
UPSTAIRS
My first instinct was to tell Dad about his study. But then I realized that he'd been in there with Mom. Wouldn't he have seen all this mess already? And still, he was the one who sent the sheriff away. He was the one who insisted that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Perhaps it was my mother who had made the mess, and he wanted to spare her any questioning by the police. It would not have bode well with her OCD tendencies to have Deputy Marsh poking through our things or tearing up the house. But why was that knife missing? Did Dad even know? I hadn't told him I'd moved it.
"Grace. We need that blanket," Charity yelled down the stairs. I shut the study doors behind me and dashed up to the bathroom. "Here." I handed the blanket to Mom.
"Banket!" James stood up in the bath. Bubbles ran down his little body.
"Finally," Charity said, and pulled him out of the tub. She wrapped him in a towel and handed him to Mom.
He nuzzled his blanket to his face. Mom held him tight.
I decided not to mention anything about the study to her. I didn't know what mode she'd flip into if I said anything to worry her. I'd question Dad later.
But the person I really wanted to talk to was Daniel. What did he know about all this? Why had he seemed so afraid? Was it somehow related to the things he could do?