“armed” was a result of the news staff’s hastily assembling the report.
The reporter on Dyekman’s lawn threw it back to the anchor, an attractive brunette who looked all of twenty- five years old and was obviously reading from a teleprompter by the way her eyes tracked across the screen. The face of Leo Dyekman filled the screen, followed by a Chicago Police Department booking photo of Nathanial Talich.
There was a long-distance helicopter shot of the mountains that zoomed in on the overturned vehicle on the floor of the canyon. Under the graphic IN CUSTODY was an old booking photo of Corey Talich.
Joe waited, hoping there would be news of the arrest of Stenko and Robert. Instead, the local news switched to an interview with a rancher complaining about his fences being knocked down by buffalo from Custer State Park.
MARYBETH FINALLY came back shaking her head, her face ashen.
Joe and Lucy looked up expectantly.
“She could almost be April,” Marybeth said. “She’s fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, it’s hard to tell. But she’s blond, tall, and attractive. I tried to convince myself that it might be her, that her looks had just changed as she got older. But no, it’s not her. Not at all.”
Joe said, “Is she awake?”
Marybeth was stoic. “No. She’s just out of surgery for her leg injury so she’s still under. But it isn’t the bullet wound that’s the problem. It’s the loss of blood. The doctor said blood loss was severe.”
Joe waited for a beat, said, “Is she going to be okay, then?”
Marybeth’s face twitched and her eyes filled with tears. “Maybe. Doubtful. They don’t know for sure. The emergency doctors said the blood loss could create something called hypovolemic shock. That’s when not enough blood flows through the organs. It made her heart beat too quickly and made her blood pressure drop. It could have long-term effects on her brain. When someone loses that much blood . . . they just don’t know what kind of internal damage was caused. It could be days before she wakes up, if she wakes up at all. And if she does, well, they just don’t know.”
Sheridan stirred and sat up rubbing sleep from her eyes. She said, “Who is she?”
“We don’t know,” Marybeth said. “She had no identification on her of any kind.”
Said Sheridan, “Why did she chose me? Why did she even start sending me texts?”
There was no answer to that.
“I mean, she knew all about us. Our pets, Lucy, everything. How could she know all that if she isn’t April?”
Joe and Marybeth exchanged looks. Joe hoped Marybeth had an answer.
Marybeth said, “I’ve been thinking about it. April wasn’t the only child in the Sovereign Camp that day. Maybe this girl knew April. Maybe they were friends and April told her all about us.”
Sheridan hugged herself, unconvinced. “Okay, but why would she text me? Doesn’t this girl have family of her own? Why me? Why us? And why would she wait so long after April told her about us to contact me?”
“There’s only one way we’re going to find out,” Joe said. “She’ll have to tell us.”
Lucy had listened to everything but said nothing. Finally, she declared, “April is still alive. This girl knows where she is.”
Marybeth sat on the couch next to Joe and Lucy and ran her fingers through Lucy’s hair. “If only it were so,” Marybeth said sadly.
JOE AND MARYBETH sent Sheridan and Lucy to the cafeteria so they could get dinner before it closed. It also gave them a chance to talk without the girls around.
Marybeth said, “One thing I do know is this girl, whoever she is, is all alone. Maybe someone somewhere has reported her missing, but we don’t know that. I have a feeling she’s been on her own for quite some time, though. I can’t ascribe her contacting Sheridan as some kind of malice on her part. I never even considered the possibility. She needs our help, Joe. Maybe this was her very strange way of asking.”
Joe said, “I was wondering how long it would take for you to say that.” He still couldn’t get over the shock of finally finding April, only to find out she was someone else.
Marybeth took both of Joe’s hands in hers and looked deeply into his eyes. “We’ve got to help her, Joe. Even if she’s not conscious, she needs to know we’re here and we care about her. Can you imagine waking up in a hospital and having no one—I mean no one—there to hold you?”
He shook his head. It
She said softly, “Maybe it was supposed to happen this way. Maybe we’re being given a second chance to make up for what happened to April.”
Joe didn’t know what to say. The implications of Marybeth’s statement made it suddenly hard to breathe.
“Are you here for Janie Doe?” someone asked.
Joe and Marybeth looked over to find an overweight woman in an ill-fitting business suit carrying a clipboard. Her face was a facsimile of sympathy and understanding. Joe didn’t resent her for her show of false concern and expression of faux familiarity. He thought it must be tough to be her.
“Yes,” Marybeth said. “We’re here for her.”
“So you’re the parents?”
“We’re not her parents,” Marybeth said, shaking her head. “We’re here as, well, what are we, Joe?”
Joe shrugged. “We thought she was someone else,” he said to the hospital staffer.
The staffer, whose hospital ID read SARA MCDOUGAL, waited for more explanation with her eyebrows arched.
