Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Tessa nods. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
I sigh. “Okay. I’ll just have to tell the police what we know. It isn’t much, but…”
“I think so. Hopefully her family has reported her missing, and they’ll know who we’re talking about.” She brushes a few strands of the girl’s curly wig from her forehead before her hand drifts down to finger the ruffled collar of the clown costume. “Wait a second, Wes. Let me check something…”
“Okay,” I say, my thumb hovering over the keypad on my cell.
“My mom used to write my name on the tags in all my school uniforms. And a clown costume is kind of a like a uniform.” She cups the girl’s cheek in her palm and leans down. “Can I peek at the back of your costume, honey? See if your mom might have written your name there?”
The girl’s eyes widen, and she nods faster, hope blooming in her eyes.
“She did? Oh, that’s great news!” Tessa smiles, exhaling a relieved laugh as she reaches beneath the rumpled wig and finds the tag. Her smile widening, she says, “Maddie Evans? And your phone number is 555-555-8989?”
The girl nods so hard that her wig flops off, revealing sweat-damp blond curls.
Tessa laughs. “Amazing.” She glances at me. “Want me to read that again? I figure we should call the parents first, right? If I were a mom, I’d want to know my baby was safe as soon as possible.”
“Absolutely,” I agree. “I remember the number.” I tap it in, my heart racing as I put the phone to my ear. “Fingers crossed they answer when they see an unknown—”
Before I can finish, the call connects and a panicked female voice asks, “Hello? Who is this?”
“Hello,” I say, in my best “soothing a panicked client who was just served with unexpected papers” voice. “My name is Wesley McGuire. My friend Tessa and I were camping near Mama Maria’s restaurant last night. We pulled out early this morning and just now stopped to load a few things into the back of our vehicle. When we opened the storage area, we found Maddie asleep in our sleeping bags.”
The woman emits a strangled sound of relief. “Oh my God. Is she okay? Is she hurt? What happened?”
“She seems fine,” I say. “But she indicated to us that she can’t speak so we aren’t sure how she got here or—”
“The makeup,” the woman cuts in with what sounds like a cross between a laugh and a sob. “It’s the makeup. She knows she’s not supposed to talk when she’s clowning, and we didn’t take her makeup off last night. She fell asleep in the hammock before we could, so we just tucked her into bed. Then, this morning, she and the other kids were playing hide and seek, and she was the only one who wasn’t found. We ran around the entire campground calling her name, telling her she was the winner and could come out and get her prize, but she never answered.” She laugh-sobs again. “I was afraid she was stuck somewhere but wouldn’t answer us because of the makeup. She’s so young. I was afraid she might not understand that sometimes it’s okay to break the rules.” She sniffs. “Can you put her on the line? Let me tell her it’s okay to talk to you guys?”
“Sure, I’ll put you on speakerphone now.” I do and lean down, holding my cell closer to Maddie as I add, “You’re on speakerphone, and Maddie’s listening. Maddie your mom wants to talk to you.”
“Hey, baby,” her mom says, her voice sending fresh tears springing into Maddie’s eyes. “It’s okay to talk with your makeup on. You’re lost and when you’re lost you have to do whatever it takes to be found. Even break the clowning rules. Okay? So can you tell me what happened? And if you’re okay? Are you hurt?”
“No,” Maddie whispers, her little voice wobbling. “But I want to come home. I’m sorry I did bad hide and seek, Mommy.”
“Oh, you didn’t do bad hide and seek, honey,” her mother says, her voice shaky, too. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Daddy and I should have been keeping a closer eye on you. You’re still too little to play with the big kids without a grown-up around. That’s my fault, and I’m so sorry.”
“I want to be with you, Mommy. I don’t like playing with the big kids,” Maddie says, sniffling. “I want to go home.”
“And we’ll have you home in no time, I promise,” her mom says. “Just let me talk to the nice man who found you and we’ll figure this all out, okay? Just be brave for a little longer, and we can forget that this horrible day ever happened. Can you do that?”
Maddie nods and says, “Yes, Mommy.”
“I’ll take you off speakerphone while we figure things out,” I tell Mrs. Evans.