Abby dug through the refrigerator. One of the neighbors had brought us a dish of lasagna, and the oven ticked as it preheated.
“You don’t have any vegetables in here,” she said.
“I guess not.”
“Were you just upstairs?” she asked, closing the refrigerator door. “Is she okay?”
“Still sleeping.”
“Should we wake her to eat something?”
Don’t send me away. .
“No,” I said, still distracted by the words she’d spoken in her sleep. “Let’s just let her be.”
Abby frowned. “If you’re sure. .”
I went over to the lasagna pan and lifted the foil. Lots of cheese, just the way I liked it. I actually felt hungry for a change.
“Tom? Where do you think she was?”
I let the foil drop. “She was with that man.”
“You think I pushed her too hard upstairs.”
The oven beeped, indicating it had reached the right temperature. I opened the door and slid in the heavy pan of food. “I guess we can eat in thirty minutes or so,” I said.
Abby wore a distant look, her eyes fixed on a point somewhere near the ceiling.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Do you ever think you don’t want to know what happened to her?” she asked. “What if it’s too awful to hear? Those things they told us at the hospital, about the sex. . What if she’s been raped or abused? The way she’s been acting. . it’s like she’s been through something awful, something that stunned her. I would have been happy to have that psychiatrist come home with us.”
“We’re fine without that,” I said. Caitlin’s whispered sleep talk cycled through my brain, like a taunt. Don’t send me away. Don’t send me away. “The police are going to push her to tell. If there’s an arrest, she’ll have to talk about it.”
The back doorbell rang.
“Who is that?” Abby asked. “Could it be Ryan?”
I pressed my face against the glass.
“It’s Buster.”
“Oh.”
“Could he have heard?” I asked.
I opened the door, and he answered the question for me.
“What the fuck is going on up here?” His voice was loud, almost crazed. “What the fuck? Are you fucking kidding me? I mean, Jesus Christ. Are you kidding me?”
His voice rose and squealed with excitement, like a prepubescent boy.
“Yes, it’s amazing,” I said.
“Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you call?”
I led him into the other room, away from Abby, who didn’t even look up or greet him. “It’s been kind of crazy here, you know? It’s been a long day.”
“I wanted to come visit. I want to see the girl. Shit.”
He was almost hysterical. Bizarrely so.
“We’re trying to get our bearings.”
“Oh,” he said. “I see. You need some family time and all that, try to put the pieces back together again.” He stood in the middle of the living room, rubbing his hands together and nodding. “I guess that makes sense. I’m family, too. I thought I could help.”
“You can. In a couple of days. In fact, I mentioned you to Caitlin, and her eyes lit up.”
“Really?”
“Really. She’ll want to see you.” I looked up at the ceiling, listening. Wondering. “But she’s asleep now. Really zonked out. It’s been a hell of a day.”
“Goddamn.” Buster looked up at the ceiling too, his face curious. Then he cleared his throat. “I love that kid,” he said.
“Yeah. . Abby asked Caitlin about something, just before.”
“Did she ask about that guy? Did they arrest him?”
“No, there’s been no arrest.”
“I want to tell you, Tom, I want to go out and find this guy.” His voice sounded heavy, heated. He leaned in close to me with a caninelike ferocity. “I want to get in my car and go looking for him. What are the fucking cops doing? Sitting on their asses?”
“I don’t know. They’re taking it slow.”
“Fuck them.”
“Look, like I started to tell you. . Abby asked Caitlin something upstairs, something about you.”
“She did?”
“Yeah.” I moved slow. Cautious. “She asked Caitlin if she saw you during the four years she was gone.”
He fell quiet. I hesitated, wondering if I’d pushed too hard.
“I don’t understand what you’re asking me. .”
I kept my voice even lower. “It’s just that Caitlin didn’t answer the question exactly. She didn’t say no, so I wanted to ask you.”
“You’re asking me if I saw Caitlin during the last four years, right? Right? Is that what you’re saying, just so we’re clear on this?”
“Buster, just answer the question.”
“You’re a real motherfucker, Tom-you know that? You’re as bad as the fucking cops. Worse. I’m your brother. To ask me a question like that. .”
“Did you see her, Buster?” My voice rose. “Do you know what happened? Answer me.”
“Why don’t you ask Caitlin again? Oh, wait.” He thumped his hand against his forehead, an exaggerated gesture. “She probably can’t stand to talk to her fucked-up and crazy parents, can she?”
“Buster-”
He stormed to the front door and tugged against the lock until it came open.
“Go to hell, Tom. Go straight to hell.”
Abby was waiting for me in the kitchen, her hands knitted together. “What were you two arguing about?” she asked.
“We weren’t arguing.” I distracted myself by picking at the salad she was making.
“I heard you raise your voice.”
“I asked him if he saw Caitlin during the last four years.”
“And?”
“What do you expect? He got pissed off and yelled at me. He acted like it hurt him.”
“What was his answer?”
“He didn’t really give me one.”
“Don’t you see?” She pointed at me. “That’s how Caitlin acted. I know he’s your stepbrother, but-”
“Half brother.”
“I think we need to talk to the police about all of this, don’t you?”
“It’s not that simple, Abby. He is my brother. We grew up together. He was always there for me when we were kids. No matter how bad our home life got, Buster was with me. He stood by me.”
I opened the oven door and looked in. The cheese on the lasagna was bubbling.
“This food is ready,” I said. “Have you heard anything from upstairs?”
“She was pretty sound asleep when I was up there, but I thought I just heard some footsteps.”
I closed the oven door, then looked up. “Probably going to the bathroom.”
“Tom, I need to know you’re taking this seriously. I’ve always been nervous about Buster, with the way he seemed so. . fascinated by Caitlin, you know? Like they were two kids with crushes on each other instead of uncle and niece.”
“Abby. .”
“You’ve seen it, too. You’ve commented on it. Don’t make this all about me, Tom. You can’t.”
She was right. I’d noticed Buster’s interest in Caitlin. I’d always managed to chalk up the closeness between them to the fact that she was his only niece, so he showered her with attention whenever he was around. But still. . an older man, a younger girl. Buster’s checkered past. His absences from our lives over the past four years.
Abby jerked up her head.
“Did you hear that?”
“What?”
“She’s moving around up there again.”
“Okay, I’ll go tell her we’re ready to eat.”
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Abby said my name. I stopped.
“This isn’t going to go away,” she said. “This Buster stuff.”
I nodded. I knew it wasn’t.
At the top of the stairs, I could see the bathroom light under the closed door. Caitlin’s bedroom door stood open. I didn’t want to stand around, hovering outside the bathroom door while she was inside, so I stuck my head in the bedroom. The covers were thrown back, the lights off. A thick, musty odor hung in the small space. I remembered Caitlin’s greasy hair at the police station, her dirty clothes. I listened for but didn’t hear water running in the bathroom. She needed to shower. She needed new things to wear. I looked at the floor. It was empty. No discarded clothes, no shoes or socks.
I went back to the bathroom door. I rapped lightly with my knuckles.
“Caitlin? Honey?”
Nothing. My heart started to thump. I knocked again, using more force.
I raised my hand to try the knob, but didn’t. I couldn’t just barge in on her, in whatever delicate state she might be in.
“Caitlin? If you don’t say anything, I’m going to open the door and check on you.”
Still nothing.
I tried the knob, expecting it to be locked, but it gave right away. I pushed in. The lights were on, gleaming off the polished surface of the vanity and mirror. The window was open too, wide open, the curtains swelling in the cold breeze. Caitlin wasn’t there. She was gone, out the window and into the night.
Abby stood at the bottom of the stairs.
“Tom?”
“Call the police. She went out the window.” I didn’t break stride. I went out the back door and into the yard, calling her name. “Caitlin! Caitlin!”
Nothing. No sign of her. The cars still sat at the end of the driveway. I looked in the windows, cupping my hands against the glass. Empty. An unbidden thought popped into my head-I didn’t know if Caitlin knew how to drive.
I turned away from the car. “Caitlin!”
I looked back at the house. She’d gone out the window and onto the porch overhang. From there, it was about a ten-foot drop to the ground. Hardly a challenge for someone young and in any kind of decent shape.
Abby came to the back door. “Tom? The police are coming.” “We should call Ryan.”
“They said they’d tell him.”
“I’m going to take the car and look,” I said, already moving. “She can’t have gone far. Jesus Christ, Abby. I should have seen this coming. The way she acted in the car. .”
“I think you should stay.”
“I’m going,” I said. “Around the neighborhood.”
“Tom, I want you to stay. Please. I don’t want to be here alone.”
I held my keys in my hand and moved toward the car. I looked back at Abby under the glow of the back porch light. Her face was full of pleading and fear.
Last time, I sat in the house, waiting. A fool. Not again, I thought. Not again. I couldn’t let Caitlin disappear this time without doing something. Immediately.
“I have the cell,” I said. “Call me if anything changes.”
“Tom.”
I didn’t look back. I got into the car and sped off.