Page 38 of The Magic We Made

“Glad to hear it,” Jackie says mildly. “Sheshouldbe stressed, after what she put her parents through.”

“We don’t know if that was purposeful. She may not have been held against her will, but she’s definitely been exploited and manipulated, not only physically, but spiritually and emotionally, as well.”

The deputy chief looks unsympathetic. “Can you meet me at the hospital and evaluate her?”

Francesca frowns. “You know I’m not on staff there. That was Richard.”

“I know, I know. But you’ve already established a bit of rapport with her—”

“Can I come, too?” I ask, and both women turn their heads to stare at me, as if surprised I’m still standing there.

“You?” The deputy chief looks suspicious. “Why wouldyouwant to come?”

“To visit.” I can’t tell her that I have my own questions for the kid, and that they’re likely to be very different from hers. “I feel responsible for her. She came to my house for help, after all.”

“She did, didn’t she?” Jackie is frowning thoughtfully. “Any idea why that might be?”

“No.” When you grow up in a family like mine, lying comes as naturally as breathing. But as my grandmother always says,Better to lie about magic than waste time trying to get nonbelievers to see the truth. “I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

“How generous of you.” The deputy chief continues to look suspicious. And why shouldn’t she? I come to town, and suddenly girls who’ve been missing for months start showing up? I’d be suspicious, too. “I understand your home was broken into last week, but you didn’t report it.”

I throw a reproachful glance at Francesca, but she doesn’t notice since she’s watching Meg get wheeled toward the ambulance. “Yeah. But—”

“Relax.” Suddenly, Jackie shifts tactics. Now she’s grinning, trying to set me at ease. “I know you had a renter living here at the time. Would have been helpful for us to know back when it happened, though. We might have been able to find this girl before things got so bad for her.”

I don’t say what I want to in reply, which is,No, you wouldn’t. You haven’t even been looking for her.

Instead, I say, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“You’re not going back to the city anytime soon, are you?” The deputy chief is pretending like she’s not warning me to stay in town but that’s exactly what she’s doing. “Because I suspect I’m going to have some questions for you later.”

“No.” I glance at Francesca, but she’s still looking worriedly after the EMTs, who are loading Meg into the back of their rig. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And with that, I’m dismissed by the deputy chief. She turns to Francesca and says, “I’m gonna follow the rig to the hospital. On my way, I’ll call the Bouchers and let them know their daughter is safe.”

“Oh, good.” Francesca looks relieved. “Thanks for coming so quickly, Jackie. And so quietly. I was afraid if she heard sirens, she’d try to bolt.”

Shedidtry to bolt. But I get the feeling Meg is less scared of law enforcement than she is of Haley and her threats.

“No worries.” Jackie shrugs. “We were having a tactical response training session so it was easy to swing by.”

“Thanks, Jackie. I’ll walk you to your car.”

Francesca follows Jackie to her big, black SUV. Both women glance back at me several times as they walk, and once Jackie even laughs at something Francesca says.

That’s okay, though. I don’t mind being laughed at. I have the feeling that my boss is going to be pleased about today’s turn of events. No, I haven’t found Emma.

But I’m getting closer.

I’m back inside my house cleaning up the mess the EMTs leftbehind—there are discarded latex gloves all over the place—and trying to figure out how I’m going to get into Meg’s hospital room to question her when there’s another knock on my door.

I’ve already given my name and number to one of the officers. He and all other emergency personnel have left, so I can’t figure out who could want something from me now. It seems a bit soon for the deputy chief to be back from the hospital already to interrogate me about why this young woman chose my house, out of all the houses on the lake, to break into.

It isn’t until I open the door and see who’s standing out there on my porch, her arms folded across her chest, that I realize Chief Deputy Boyle isn’t the only person in town who might want to question me today.

“So,” Francesca says. She’s changed out of the swimsuit and towel into a sweatshirt and leggings. “When were you planning on telling me who you really are, and what you’re really doing here in West Harbor?”

Frankie