Sun-Kissed Secret Baby by Leigh Jenkins
Chapter 25
Sam thought he might choke on his own heart, it was so high in his throat. By the time he made it to Sadie’s cabin he was soaked through, but his brain barely took notice of the cold. “How long has she been gone?” he demanded.
“I don’t know. Twenty, thirty minutes—”
“And you just noticed now?” he exploded.
She flinched, but shot back, “Jesus, Sam. She was supposed to be asleep!”
He bit back his response. Now wasn’t the time to criticize. It was the time to act. He put his hands on his hips, contemplating what to do next. “She wasn’t sleepwalking, was she? Or just off wandering?”
Allie shook her head miserably. “No. She heard us.”
The full impact of her words set in. His daughter had lain in her room, listening to her parents argue—over her. No wonder she was gone. “We need to find her,” he said.
“Maybe she went down to the rec room?” Sadie suggested. “To cool off with a couple of games? Or the candy machine in the lobby?”
“Maybe,” Sam said slowly, “but it seems to me that if a child is missing it makes sense to search the most dangerous place first, and then work your way back. And that place would be—”
“The beach,” Allie groaned.
He nodded, pulling out his phone and barking into it. Moments later, he clicked it off and shoved it back into his pocket. “Sadie, check the rec room. Allie, come with me. Charlie’s alerting Security, and then he’s meeting us down at the beach.”
He took off running, not even waiting for her response. Straight to the path, feeling the flagstones slick under his feet. Whereas the path was usually lit by soft, low floodlights at this time of night, rows of high-powered sodium lights came on as he neared the beach, signaling him that his security force had kicked in the emergency response.
He could hear Allie just paces behind him, breathing hard, as his feet finally hit the sand. She was yelling their daughter’s name, and Sam followed suit, feeling the word tear from his throat over and over.
The half-moon shaped bay curved around them, intimidatingly wide. He looked left and right, unsure of which way to turn. Before them, the sea was black and uneasy, shrouded from the reluctant moonlight by heavy rainclouds.
There was the sound of more feet, and Sam knew without turning that Charlie was there, out of breath but fully alert. Three more officers followed.
“I don’t know which way to go,” Sam panted. Normally, he felt in charge of any situation, was always the one to make decisions, but tonight the terror numbed his mind. Each end of the beach was shrouded in darkness, a threatening, ominous mystery. But the sea… there was nothing but ink and menace.
The thought of losing Daria on this night made him sick. She wouldn’t have gone into the water, would she? She wouldn’t have allowed it to swallow her up.
Charlie yelled at the officers, pointing, sending them in the direction of the pier, and then turned to him. His black eyes connected with Sam’s and in that moment of unspoken communication, the kind that connected men who had been friends for decades, Charlie understood his anguish and terror. Lightly, for just a second, he placed the palm of his hand over Sam’s chest as if trying to slow his heartbeat. “We’ll find her, man. I promise.”
Sam nodded and broke the contact because it was unbearable. Allie was wandering around in small circles, screaming, “Daria! Daria!”
Charlie nodded in the direction of the cabin on the beach that the camp used as its base. “That’s where I’m putting my money,” he said.
Sam agreed, and the two men jogged toward it. A trickle of people began appearing down the path, not just more officers but guests as well, roused from sleep and hastily dressed as word of a missing child spread like a brush fire. Some had flashlights, some used the light from their phones. They began fanning out on the beach, calling his daughter’s name. Sam felt a surge of gratitude.
Charlie opened up the cabin and clicked on the lights. The scene before them was cheerful: craft materials abandoned on tables, towels forgotten on the floors, flip flops, and swim fins….
But no Daria.
Frustrated, Sam spun around and headed out again, muttering, “The water. The water!”
Allie ran up to him, tears streaming down her face. “This is my fault—”
He took her into his arms and held her awhile. It killed him to see her so scared. “Shh. No, it’s not.” Her eyes were rimmed with red, and he could feel inside her an echo of his own terror, but he reassuringly promised, “We’ll find her, baby. It will be okay.”
As she clung to him, he was overwhelmed by the need to make it right, make her better, and understood in that moment that it was no longer just Daria who was part of his family now; Allie was, too. And he would do anything to protect them both.
He longed to cling to her, but it was time to act, for Daria’s sake. He released her and turned again to the surf. There would be no footprints, of course; the tide was too high for that. He could feel the sea reach for his feet, soaking his shoes, sucking on his ankles. And suddenly the place that had always been his source of solace felt like the dark lair of a voracious beast that wanted to consume him.
He tamped down a surge of fear.