Page 38 of Meant for Me (Magnolia Bay #3)

twenty-two

“W hat do you mean, standard procedure?” Linc leaned so far over the counter at the Magnolia Bay Parish Jail, Zoey thought he might bump noses with Sheriff Rubart. The fluorescent light above buzzed. “My kid is missing .”

Unperturbed, Sheriff crossed his arms over his protruding belly.

A half-full coffee mug sat next to a pad of sticky notes and an overflowing in-box of papers.

Obviously, the front desk admin had gone home for the night, and Sheriff Rubart didn’t seem very eager to take her place.

“For all you know, the girl went shopping.”

Exactly as Zoey predicted—and feared. She winced.

“That’s ridiculous. She’s thirteen, and it’s Sunday night. Nothing is open to shop at.” Linc stabbed his hands through his hair. Thunder boomed, rattling the glass in the front windows. He pointed to the sky. “Plus there’s that.”

“Exactly my point—she’s a teenager. A troubled teenager. And teenagers get wild whims all the time, including running around in the rain.” Sheriff narrowed his eyes. “Did she happen to get mad at you recently?”

Linc glared. “Yeah.”

“Again, my point.”

“And when she does, she slams her door! Not packs a bag and vanishes into thin air.”

Sheriff raised a bushy gray brow. “I seem to remember her running out of the diner when she got upset at that reception.” He tilted his head toward Zoey. “Congratulations on the nuptials, by the way.”

Zoey opened her mouth, shut it. Unable to tell if the comment was satire.

“I know how this looks, but Amelia promised she wouldn’t do that anymore.” Linc pushed away from the counter, paced a tight circle before landing back.

Sheriff reached for his coffee mug. “Teenagers break prom?—”

“I know!” Linc slammed his hands on the counter. The entire structure shuddered. “But something could still be wrong—and you’re doing nothing.”

Sheriff frowned, set his mug down. Reached toward his belt, which held a weapon and a pair of handcuffs.

Okay, so they weren’t getting anywhere with vinegar. Time for sugar.

Zoey placed a steadying hand on Linc’s arm, despite her own nerves threatening to send her over the counter next, and stepped in front of him.

“Look, Sheriff.” She smiled, tried to gentle her tone enough for the both of them.

“Could you maybe just make a call? Have some of your deputies watch out for Amelia while they’re on patrol? ”

“That I can do.” Sheriff reached for the walkie-talkie on his belt while Linc glowered. “If she actually stays out all night, check back with me in the morning.”

Zoey’s stomach flipped. All night, alone…in this storm? She glanced at the rain knocking against the front window, the darkness stretching beyond it. A gust of wind howled.

The sheriff must have seen her look, because he rushed on. “Don’t worry. Chances are she’ll come home tonight, especially if she gets wet. That’s usually the case.” He shook his head. “Teenagers think running away is real cool until they miss their free food and electronics.”

Linc back-stepped toward the door, face stony. “You better be right.”

Zoey tugged his arm. “Let’s go.” Another gust slammed against the window panes. She flipped up the hood on her jacket, then followed Linc out into the night, knowing what he had to be thinking—because she was thinking it, too. That Amelia wasn’t just any typical teenager.

She was theirs.

* * *

Linc pulled his truck back into his own gravel drive an hour later, a desperate prayer on his lips. Rain beat his windshield, the wipers doing little to sluice it off. He shifted the truck into park. Please let her be here.

Amelia hadn’t been anywhere else around town—not Magnolia Blossom, or Second Story, or Chug a Mug, which was the only place in town open this late on Sundays, and even they’d been in the process of closing.

They hadn’t seen her huddled under any store awnings as they drove by the Burger Barn, or hanging out in the courtyard by the library.

His hitchhiking fears were becoming stronger, and at some point, he was going to have to tell Zoey what he suspected. But saying it out loud made it feel more likely, and he wasn’t ready for that.

“Are you praying?” He glanced at Zoey, who sat still in the passenger seat, her eyes closed. Droplets of water coated her cheeks.

She nodded. “Have been all evening.”

“Why hasn’t God answered yet?”

She opened her eyes, lips curved downward. “I don’t know.”

“I prayed with Pastor Todd this morning.” The words felt like a confession, like an experiment gone wrong.

“Yeah?”

“Think it made things worse.”

Zoey took his hand, her skin damp and chilled. “I’m sure it didn’t.”

He’d had all that peace, for a minute. But then—“Ms. Bridges showed up right afterward, and everything went downhill after that.” With Amelia. With him and Zoey.

Granted, he was the common denominator in all of those.

He looked at their joined hands, then back at her. “Why do you pray so much? If there’s no guarantee.”

“My parents always said faith and prayer—that’s what moves mountains. You do your part and God does His.” Zoey shoved her wet hair out of her face. “So I guess prayer helps me feel like I have a say in what’s going on.”

Linc frowned. “I thought Pastor Todd said before that the point of prayer is to remember God is in control— not us.”

“Oh, He is, but we get to participate.” Zoey nodded. “Another verse I love is in Colossians…chapter one, I think. It talks about how in Christ, all things are held together.”

There was that all word, again. Working good, even through fires and denied claims. Missing kids. His frown deepened. “So is that what you’re doing when you pray? Trusting God to hold it together?”

She opened her mouth, then slowly closed it. Her brow furrowed. “I?—”

Lightning split the sky, followed by a crack of thunder. BOOM . They jumped. Linc cast a glance toward the house, wishing to see their answered prayer via movement behind the curtains, lights turning on— something to indicate Amelia was there. Safe.

Home.

Because if she wasn’t inside, wrapped up in a blanket or drying her hair after a shower or rummaging for a snack…He swallowed. What if Ms. Bridges found out about this? Would they take Amelia away, prove him an incompetent father?

His gut tightened. Maybe he was.

“Let’s go.” He got out, slammed the door. Knowing deep down, with every pounding footstep through the rain, that Amelia wasn’t inside. He continued to plead with God to let him be wrong.

A pile of mail sat at the front door, tucked close against the wall, next to a giant box of protein powder he’d forgotten he’d ordered. He didn’t care. He brushed past it, burst through the front door, dripping water all across the entryway. Didn’t care about that, either. “Amelia!”

Nothing.

He hollered again, louder. Judging by Zoey’s wince and the way she clamped her hands over her ears, he figured Amelia would have heard him, even if she was out in the woods.

More silence.

He started to shake. “This is all my fault.”

“Don’t do that.” Zoey shook her head. “We can go back out. We’ll find her.”

“And look where?”

Her silence confirmed his fears. There was nowhere else to look. This was his fault—he should have just talked to Amelia earlier, like Zoey suggested. Who knew what would happen next when they found her?

If they found her.

His stomach flipped. Prayer hadn’t helped—God wasn’t working this for their good. Linc was, once again, alone. Amelia had literally run away from him. And he had Zoey, but for how long? When all of this fell apart, when they took Amelia away, Zoey might not stick around either.

Because people left.

Linc pressed his lips together, went to the porch, and scooped up the soggy mail, dumping it on the table in a heap. Zoey’s name was listed on several envelopes, with a big red FORWARDING ADDRESS stamped in the corners.

The one on top caught his eye—must have caught hers too.

Zoey frowned. “This is my insurance company.” She slowly picked up the envelope, tore it open.

A check fluttered to the table.

“Linc.” She gasped. “It’s the full amount.”

He set his jaw, huffed a breath. Of course. Now, of all times. “That’s…great.” Perfect, really. He could get rid of everything he wanted, everyone he cared about, in one awful night. Rip the Band-Aid.

“Wow.” Her eyes lit, the check shaking slightly in her hands. “I can’t believe it. So much earlier than we thought.” She looked up. “I didn’t know if it was coming at all.”

Obviously, which was the only reason she’d agreed to marry him in the first place.

The only reason why she’d stayed.

Well, now she could be like everyone else.

“Congratulations.” He stalked to the pantry, grabbed a few bottles of water and almond-free granola bars. Two bananas. Amelia might be hungry in this storm, and he wanted to be prepared when he found her.

If he did.

“You seem mad.”

He slammed the pantry door. “Just worried about my kid still out there.”

“Of course.” Zoey shoved the check away. “I’m sorry, I was just so surprised. Let me grab a dry hoodie and we can?—”

“Don’t bother.” He shoved the water and the protein snacks into a duffel, zipped it shut. “I’ve got it. No reason in making anyone pretend any longer.”

“Pretend?” She took a step toward him. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t need me anymore.” He gestured toward the check. “And with all this happening with Amelia, well. Looks like I won’t need you either.” The words stung leaving his lips.

Zoey flinched. “ Linc .”

He couldn’t stop now, or the pain would consume him. Destroy him. He tossed the strap on his shoulder and headed for the door.

She followed. “Why are you doing this? We never even talked about us.” She drew a shaky breath. “Or about last night.”

“No point.” He shot the words over his shoulder, like he didn’t care. Like he hadn’t relived that kiss in his mind from every angle, every breath, a hundred times. “Was just a fluke between friends, obviously. We felt sappy after that wedding.” He shrugged. “It happens.”