All That's Missing by Sarah Sullivan Page B

thought about it, where was the harm in believing in spirits or angels or whatever. As long as it wasn’t hurting anybody.
    â€œYou coming, Ronald?” Tyrone yelled from the driver’s side of the car.
    â€œOn my way!” Arlo yelled back. He pulled the door of the sedan open and hopped inside.
    â€œWon’t be long now,” Bernice said, winking at Arlo in the mirror on the visor over her head.
    Arlo hoped she was right.
    Tyrone drove past strip malls and car lots. Eventually the concrete turned to grass, and soon after that, there was nothing but cornfields and tobacco crops that stretched in every direction. Small white churches dotted the landscape. Tyrone drove through little towns with feed stores and service stations and not much else. Just outside Edgewater a construction crew worked in the opposite lane. Tyrone’s tires made short clipping noises as they bumped over seams of new pavement.
    EDGEWATER, VIRGINIA — FOUNDED 1687 — POP . 1,753
    â€œNot a very big place, is it?” Tyrone asked.
    â€œLooks like a pretty little town to me,” Bernice said.
    â€œI haven’t been here for a long time,” Arlo said.
    To their right, a brick building stood beside a hardware store. In the town square there was a pedestal with a statue of a man on the top. The man wore a funny hat.
    Arlo snapped to attention in the backseat. He’d been cruising along thinking everything was OK, not even considering the fact that he had no idea where to tell Bernice and Tyrone to drop him off. In another sixty seconds, they would be past the town and it would be too late. He needed to find a house quick, someplace that looked like a grandmother might live there.
    On the other hand, if he hadn’t been to Edgewater in a long time, why should he remember where her house was? He had to go somewhere. What should he do? Sweat pooled in Arlo’s armpits.
    â€œYou remember how to find your grandmother’s house?” Bernice asked.
    â€œI remember that statue,” Arlo lied. “Her house wasn’t far from there.” That lie seemed safe enough. In a town this small, her house couldn’t be far away.
    â€œLooks like there’s some houses down that street,” Tyrone said, nodding toward a shady street lined with tree-filled yards and flower gardens and mailboxes.
    It looked perfect.
    â€œThat’s it,” Arlo said. “I mean, it looks familiar. I think her house is down there.”
    â€œYou mean, I should turn here?” Tyrone asked.
    â€œYes, please.” Arlo held his breath, watching houses drift past. He needed to pick one, but he wanted to make sure nobody was home first. How could he do that from the backseat of the car? All the houses looked nice. Maybe he’d be lucky and pick one that had the door unlocked. Lots of people left houses unlocked in small towns. OK, maybe not
lots,
but some did. A few. All Arlo needed was one. And if there wasn’t a car in the driveway and the house didn’t have a garage, then it would probably be safe. He could get out of the car and tell Bernice to wait while he went to the door. Then he’d pretend to ring the bell and act like someone was inviting him inside. After a minute or two, he would step back outside and wave and tell them everything was OK. He’d give Tyrone time to back out of the driveway. And after they were gone, he’d go back outside and . . .
    And what?
    Who knows
?
    One thing at a time.
    That’s all he could handle.
    â€œIt’s that one.” Arlo pointed to a low bungalow with twin pine trees growing on either side of the front steps.
    â€œNice-looking place,” Tyrone said.
    â€œLook at those flowers,” Bernice said. “Your grandma must be quite a gardener.”
    â€œYes, ma’am, she is.” Arlo crossed his fingers behind his back. Who knows? Maybe it was the truth.
    Tyrone flipped on the blinker and made the turn.
    â€œShe’ll