Page 69 of Chasing Dreams
“Here she is. She’s practically waiting for me. The roommate’s gone. The kid’s mom is on the phone in the other room. Don’t these stupid girls have more sense than to get knocked up while they’re still wearing training bras?
“The baby was asleep, and she didn’t wake up. I didn’t have to use the chloroform.”
Shaine’s indrawn breath registered dimly.
“I put her in the car,” he said. “The white Corsica. Doris is in the driver’s seat. The back seat is empty except for the baby. The house. I look back at the house. It needs paint. It’s white with most of the blue trim chipped off. There’s an intersection just ahead. It’s...oh.”
“What?” Ken asked.
“There’s a highway sign. It’s Kansas.”
“Hot damn!” Ken said, slapping a palm on the desk.
Austin’s focus changed then, shifted, dipped and turned, and a consuming sense of shock and alarm spread through him. “Amy!” The young girl is frantic. “Amy!” She screams the name again and again. She blames herself. Her mother told her she wouldn’t be able to take care of her baby and work and go to school. Her mother will be glad. Maybe she planned it!
No one can help her. The police have nothing. The FBI has nothing. She has nothing. No mother. No husband. No Amy.
Grief, like a gaping pulsing wound, blotted out all other sensations, and Austin couldn’t fill his lungs with air.
The shoe was tugged from his fingers. Ken set it on the desktop. Austin concentrated on breathing evenly and remembering the pain wasn’t his.
But it was. It was.
He knew just how deeply the girl grieved for her baby. how scared and alone and desperate she was. For that abysmal time it had all been his, and feelings as deep as those were not easily forgotten.
Ignoring whatever Ken might think, Shaine pulled her chair beside Austin’s and took his hand. He met her eyes, and the depth of emotion in his took her breath away.
“This is the only chance we’ll have to hold these things,” he said to her. “Take the shoe.”
The sound of a train roared in Shaine’s head. Why did he want her to do this? What if she saw something awful? What if the future was worse than the past?
She remembered her dream of Austin, the image of pain and suffering on his face. The pain had all belonged to others. He’d made it his. For her.
His hand in hers was strong and warm. Imbuing courage. And hope.
Shaine released him and faced the desk where the tiny white shoe lay. Swiftly, so she wouldn’t have time to anticipate, she swooped forward and took it. The laces dangled between her fingers. She shut her eyes, maneuvering the reference points Austin had taught her to use.
It was surprisingly easy. As soon as her chest warmed and her fingers grew cold, she knew she was there—and she flowed with it. The heat plunged to her abdomen.
A toddling girl with a pink dress and floppy bow in her fine hair wobbled across a large room filled with a dozen other children. It appeared as some kind of day-care facility. Children banged toys and whooped. Occasionally one cried.
“Amanda, they call her,” Shaine was able to tell them.
“Find someone like a mother,” Austin said hopefully. “Can you find her?”
Shaine tried. She waited patiently for another avenue to open. Nothing came. Finally she shook her head and returned the shoe to the desk. “We know she’s okay,” she said without much excitement in her tone.
She glanced over at Austin, and did a double-take at the look of awe his face. “You saw her,” he said, his voice low.
She nodded.
“We both saw her.”
Comprehension at his incredulity sunk in. He’d rarely envisioned a live victim. This was almost miraculous for him. Shaine couldn’t help thinking of the stories she’d seen on CNN after the Oklahoma City bombing. Even the search-and-rescue dogs had to find a live body once in a while or they became depressed and quit looking. It was a silly analogy, but an obviously true one. If the need for hope and encouragement affected dogs that way, Shaine could imagine how such a thing would effect a human being.
Especially a compassionate man like Austin.
“We have about ten minutes before Parker comes back. You want to do these?” Ken pointed to the bottle and spoon.
