Page 17 of A River of Crows

Not soon enough, Sloan realized as the music to 21 Jump Street began. Mom opened one of the pizza boxes. “Don’t let it get cold.”

Sloan closed the box. Ridge had talked Daddy into watching the crows with him. And Ridge was the baby, so he got whatever he wanted. It was easy to blame her brother, but Daddy had made the promise. Of course, she hadn’t kept her promise either. She hadn’t even tried to make her mom smile or laugh all day. She’d spent the entire day in her room except for lunch—a lunch Mom didn’t even eat with her. She’d made Sloan’s sandwich, then gone out to the back porch to smoke another cigarette. Daddy wouldn’t be happy about that. He hated when Mom smoked, and she rarely did it when he was in town, but lately, she didn’t seem to care. And she wasn’t even trying to hide it tonight, didn’t bathe herself in perfume.

“Well, if you won’t eat, I will.” Caroline grabbed a pizza slice and sat on the couch next to Sloan. They watched the first fifteen minutes of the show, but Sloan was too angry to pay attention to the plot.

During the first commercial break, the door burst open.

Daddy charged into the living room, his eyes wide and wild, his brow covered in sweat. Sloan noticed a small red scratch under his right eye. Not another episode, Sloan thought. She’d never seen her father have one when he hadn’t been asleep.

“Jay?” Mom jumped up, the paper plate from her lap falling to the floor. “What is it, Jay?”

Daddy glanced down the hall. “Is Ridge here?”

“What do you mean is Ridge here?” Mom’s voice shook.

“Oh, God.” Tears filled his eyes. “Call the police, Caroline.”

“Where’s Ridge, Jay? Where is he?” Mom’s face had gone pale.

Daddy crumpled to the floor, rubbing both hands through his damp hair. “I don’t know,” he cried. “He disappeared.”

“What do you mean?” Mom screamed. “Jay, where is our son?”

Daddy stayed on the floor, but he raised his head. “We fished, and I started feeling strange. The next thing I remember is waking up. Ridge was gone. I searched, Caroline. Nobody saw him. I hoped he’d come home.”

“Maybe he’s with the Dawsons,” Mom said. “I’ll call.”

Sloan’s chest clenched. Some kids may wander off, visit a friend and not tell anyone, but not Ridge. Not ever.

This had to be a terrible nightmare. Her dad shaking on the floor, her mother screaming into the phone. Sloan wanted to do both, cry and scream.

She needed to do something. Go comfort Daddy. Go tell Mom to stop yelling. She’s hard to understand when she’s yelling. But Sloan only sat, sinking deeper and deeper into the couch as the commercial break ended and 21 Jump Street started again.

The search parties began. Police officers, state troopers, local volunteers, and even the National Guard joined the search. There were police dogs and helicopters. From her back porch, Sloan heard strangers call her brother’s name repeatedly. “Ridge! Ridge! Ridge!”

Where’d you go, Ridge?

Sloan’s family didn’t sit down for dinner; they didn’t go to bed. Her dad walked every inch of the creek and would have done it a dozen more times had the police not taken him in for questioning.

Two days passed. Sloan lost all sense of time. All sense of place. All sense of normal.

The shrill ring of the phone drew all their eyes toward it. There was hope with every ring of a phone, with every ring of a doorbell.

“I’ll get it.” Sloan headed for the phone. Noah was supposed to call back before bed. He listened to everything his father said, everything that came in on the walkie.

“Hello.” Sloan gripped the cold phone. “Hi, Libby. Yes, ma’am, she’s right here.” Mom was already behind her, taking the phone.

Sloan walked back to the couch and sat next to her father. His eyes were red and his hands trembling. “I’ll go search again,” he mumbled.

“Not tonight, Daddy.” Sloan took hold of his forearm. It seemed smaller. She hadn’t seen him eat since that Sunday breakfast. “You need to sleep. Really sleep. And when you wake up, we can make breakfast together.”

Daddy grabbed his jacket. “When Detective Johnson comes back, tell him I’ll be home in an hour.”

Mom didn’t even glance up when Daddy slammed the door. “No news, Libby,” she said. “Still nothing.” Sloan watched her mom wipe her eyes. She was strong. Somehow, she’d be okay. Daddy was another story.

Sloan tapped her mom’s shoulder. “Can I go to the creek with Daddy?” she whispered.

Mom nodded and shooed Sloan away.

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