Willow giggled. "Orangeyou glad that wasn't my house?"
I wasn't glad.I was worried. And obviously so was Cami. With a strained smile, she asked, "Areyouglad?"
Willow nodded. "Oh yeah. You're morewaymore fun than Veronica." Willow looked to me and added with a grin. "You are, too."
For her sake, I smiled back. "Thanks. You're pretty fun yourself."
"I know." And with that, she continued skipping along, oblivious to the growing tension that Cami and I were both trying to hide.
This wasn't going well.
By now, I wasn't even sure who to blame – Veronica for losing track of a seven-year-old, me for not calling the police right away, or Cami for suggesting that we simply walk Willow home.
Probably we wereallidiots, because by now, it was painfully obvious that Willow was a lot more lost than we'd first realized.
Either that, or she was stalling for some other reason.
Regardless, I was coming to the sad realization that we'd probably end up calling the police anyway. After all, a kid that young who'd wandered half a mile on her own was no laughing matter.
I was just bracing myself to make the call when Cami said, "Hang on a minute, okay?" When we all stopped, Cami crouched down to Willow's level and said, "Are yousureyou don't know your phone number?'
Willow snickered. "I don't have a phone, Silly."
With an encouraging smile, Cami said, "But what about your mom?Shehas a phone, right?"
Willow's laughter faded. "I don't have a mom."
Ouch.
Cami's eyes filled with sympathy. "Oh, I'm sorry, sweet pea." She tried for yet another smile. "How about your dad?"
Looking almost disgruntled now, Willow said, "He's busy."
I felt my jaw clench.He wasn't just busy. He was neglectful.That much was obvious by the fact that his daughter was roaming around unprotected while he was off doing who-knows-what.
Following Cami's lead, I crouched down toward Willow and said, "Do you knowhisphone number?"
With a shrug, Willow replied, "Nope."
I studied her face. I was no expert on seven-year-olds, but I had the distinct impression she wasn't being completely honest.
I tried another approach. "But surely, you know his name, right?"
"Maybe."
"So…what is it?" I already had a last name, Taylor. But when I'd looked on the Web before setting out, I'd found no Taylors living nearby.
Still, if I had a first name, I could do another internet search on my phone, maybe see if we were heading in the right direction.
Willow grinned. "Guess."
"Guess what?" I asked.
"His name."
I didn't feel like guessing. But hey, at least I knew part of his name already. Trying to be crafty, I said, "If I guess his last name, will you tell me his first name?"
Willow gave it some thought. "I guess so."
