“Why? Can’t I just stay here? They’ll never find me.”
“Cheyenne, you found me. Even if I take my photo off the website, you’re right that my name isn’t all that common. I’ve never tried to hide, and I’m not going to now. To keep you safe, we need to seek some kind of court order that allows you to stay, but in my custody.”
“I want to be an emancipated minor.” She jutted her chin.
“If you were younger, then maybe. Although I’d still try to convince you to let me be responsible for you.” As much as anyone can be. “I’d guess that by the time we get permission for you to be emancipated, you’ll be eighteen anyway. I think you need a job and stuff first.” Or at least that was what I assumed. Once we’d cleaned up from dinner, I was going to pull out my laptop and do a bunch of research. “Look, one of my clients, Phillip…” I rolled my eyes upward. “He was worried about custody of his dog if anything happened to him. He was super stressed about it. He said this great local lawyer, Wynn Cavannah, arranged documentation to ensure Wally would go to Phillip’s boyfriend, Jeremy. I mean, I sure as shit hope nothing happens to Phillip, but life’s unpredictable like that. And, together, they rescued Flora?—”
“Brooklyn?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re rambling. I don’t need to know about Phillip, Wally, Jeremy, and Flora.”
I squinted. “Yeah, probably not. But I’m saying we need a lawyer to make an application to the court for me to be granted custody. Your birthday’s in less than two months, but that’s long enough for Mom and Dad to demand you back.”
“I’m aware.” She rolled her eyes.
If she was half this difficult with our parents, I had an inkling why they wanted to marry her off. Although irritating didn’t mean I was put off by her defiance. That spark was part of who my little sister was. Our parents with their demands for complete submission to the head of the household? Yeah, I could see my dad and sister clashing. Something told me she wasn’t meek and mild at home either, no matter how well she’d faked it when I was back there before.
We need a plan. “Let me do some research, and I’ll call Mr. Cavannah first thing in the morning.”
“You’ve got dogs coming first thing in the morning. Is Arthur bringing his dogs back? Are they part of your crew? It’s super cool that you get to work with dogs all day. Can I work for you? That could be my emancipation job, right?”
“Yes, it’s cool. No, I don’t normally care for Arthur’s dogs. Maybe we should stick to the topic at hand.”
She rose, grabbing my plate as well as hers.
“I can help.” I stood as well.
She shot me that look. “You go do whatever research you have to do. I’ll clean up the kitchen.”
Tidying up was my least favorite task, but if someone else cooked, I always pitched in to help. “But?—”
“We agreed I could stay here if I cook and clean. I cooked and now I’m cleaning. I’m also going to run the vacuum through the place.” She turned and headed to the kitchen.
I let out a long exhalation. We hadn’t actually resolved anything. Or had we? At least I knew why she ran. I was going to research…
I headed to my little alcove where I had my desk, filing cabinet, and an uncomfortable chair. All in a little crammed space without a window. An incentive to do all my paperwork quickly, and move back into the light. Still, I flipped on the lamp and booted up my computer.
At the last minute, I remembered to select incognito. Not a guarantee I couldn’t be traced, but an added layer of protection.
I started with researching California custody arrangements and, as I’d suspected, I needed a lawyer. I located Mr. Cavannah’s office phone number and left a long, rambling message. Somehow, that felt like a huge accomplishment.
Next, I ran a search for Cheyenne.
Nothing.
I was surprised. Not that I couldn’t find anything from her ordinary life—our town barely interacted with the outside world and we were paranoid as hell, so things like social media footprints were nonexistent. If Cheyenne had any sort of online account—and I couldn’t conceive of how she’d be able to create, let alone maintain one—how could she access it? Doing anything under the eagle eye of the librarians would be risky. Our family had a computer, but the laptop was completely under my father’s control. She might’ve been allowed to type a term paper, but that would’ve been it. And if she had an account under an alias, I didn’t stand a chance of locating it.
No, what I found really interesting was I couldn’t find a missing-person bulletin. The quickest way to locate someone these days was to post it on the internet. That shit went viral all the time. Beautiful young woman like her? Missing for nine days? Catnip.
Yet I couldn’t find a single mention of her anywhere.
My phone buzzed.
I almost ignored it.
Wynn Cavannah.
