Five minutes later, copies of the flyer were taped up in several places and everyone in line was staring at her. Some were even whispering, "Is that her child?"
"Yes!" she shouted to the group at large. "She's my only child. I have to find her. Will you help me? Please!"
Her plea met with shock and sympathy and open curiosity, but no one stepped forward.
A moment later, Jonathan had taken her hand and was dragging her down the terminal at a trot, her bag bumping behind her. They caught the plane just as the flight attendant was closing the door.
Chapter 12
Colin didn't interrupt his work when Misty, the firm's receptionist, knocked at his office door.
Concentrating on a purchase agreement for a land-development company, he barked out, "What is it?"
Misty poked her head in. "Got a message for you."
He held out his hand without looking at her, and she came in far enough to drop a piece of paper in his palm.
Slapping it down on his desk, he kept working. He'd get to it later. He had to make up for the preoccupation that'd been damaging his productivity since last weekend, when Rover had started acting up. He hated the prospect of bringing work home with him tonight. He wanted to be available to console Zoe.
"What's this?"
At the sound of Misty's voice, Colin swiveled away from his computer to see that she hadn't left. Instead of hurrying on, as she usually did, she was pointing at the stack of flyers on the edge of his desk.
"That's my neighbor's little girl," he said.
"She's missing?"
"Says so, doesn't it?"
She didn't take offense. Focused on what that flyer meant, she frowned, causing unattractive dimples to appear on her pudgy face. "How sad!"
The whine in her voice grated on his nerves. The flyer elicited the same reaction from almost everyone, especially women. But Misty's instant concern bothered him. She was so damn sentimental. Single at thirty-five and more than a little overweight, she was always cooing about some stray dog or cat she'd taken in. She got behind a new cause every week and pressured others to join her. One day she was pushing cookies for the Girl Scouts, the next it was coupon books for Little Leaguers or magazines to benefit the local elementary school.
The only fund-raiser he'd ever supported her in was a Walk for Diabetes. Not because he gave a damn about saving anyone. He didn't know many people in the world worth saving. He just thought it'd be funny to offer a large sum as incentive to make Misty finish the whole walk, then watch her have a heart attack.
Unfortunately, she came through it unscathed. He'd thought he'd at least enjoy the fact that he'd made her go to such effort to collect a hundred dollars she wouldn't get to keep. But the organizers gave her a stupid "I'm making a difference" pin that brought her so much satisfaction he swore he'd never help her again.
If it were up to him, he'd fire her on the basis of being fat and annoying. But the other attorneys loved her and her "big heart," as they said.
If her heart was big, it was because she was big, but that didn't stop the rest of the lawyers from bringing her little treats and gifts for Administrative Professional Day or Christmas. She had a number of stuffed animals hiding in various cubbyholes around the office and constantly purchased plaques and statues with sickeningly sweet quotes. Her current favorite was, "Three grand essentials to happiness in this life are: something to do, something to love and something to hope for."
If she only knew what he was hoping for her...
"So...you're helping them?" she asked.
He smiled at the respect in her voice. That was new. He and Misty didn't get along well, but one act of perceived kindness had her second-guessing her assessment of him. God, she was a sap. "That's right."
"Oh." She fingered the corner of the stack. "Maybe you're not that bad..."
He cocked his head. "Don't tell me you've been judging me. You're a good Christian woman."
Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. "But when I put up that notice in the break room about the homeless kitten, someone wrote, 'Die, kitty, die,'
and Marnie said she thought it was you."
Gasp--could he really be so terrible? He barely refrained from laughing in her face. "It was me. But I was joking, of course. Who could be so cruel about a cute 'puddy tat'?"
She seemed cheered by his childish response. She thought they'd established some common ground at last and felt relieved to see him acting in a manner she could relate to. She lived in such a small, protected world....
"That's what I figured."
Eager to get back to business now that he'd taken a moment to impress the firm's own Mother Teresa, Colin cleared his throat. "You found a good home for the kitty, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"There you go." He smiled blandly. "Was there...anything else?"
"I'm just worried about your neighbor's little girl. I'd be happy to help if you need it."
Colin almost told her to get lost. He was enjoying his involvement, didn't want any competition for Zoe's attention. But after the way Misty had reversed her opinion of him, he saw this as an opportunity to improve his image with the whole firm. With the neighborhood. With the cops. No one would suspect a neighbor who was working so hard to bring little Sammie home.
"I'm putting together a search party for this weekend, if you have a few hours," he said, but he knew before he asked that she'd agree. People like her didn't have lives of their own. She had nothing to do but earn herself another meaningless "I'm making a difference" pin.
"Where will you search?"
"Around the neighborhood and in the raw land adjacent to our development." He'd be sure to send Misty right through the thorny blackberry bushes that clogged the creek.
"You think she might be dead?"
"I hope not." He lowered his voice. "This is...just in case."
"Of course I'll help you," she said.
Surprise, surprise. "Great."
"Maybe some of the other attorneys and secretaries will want to pitch in. Do you mind if I ask them?"
"Not at all. Tell them I'm planning to spend the whole day, if necessary, since I know the family and all. I don't expect that much from them, of course, but I'd be grateful for any time they could spare." Gee, he was sounding like a regular hero. Maybe the media would pick up on his efforts to pitch in.
He imagined himself tearing up on TV. He loved Tiffany all the more because she'd made it possible for him to enjoy this added dimension to an already exciting game.