Chapter Forty-Two
Bree
“I’m sure it’s a sign,” I told Nathan as we climbed back into our car.
“Just because we ate breakfast at the Good Luck Cafe, does not mean we are going to have this all wrapped up before noon,” Nathan said.
Still, he paused in the driver’s seat and leaned his head back with a contented sigh. He looked like he could nap right there in the parking lot.
“That breakfast burrito was the best I’ve ever had,” I said.
“Oh, don’t remind me.” Nathan sat up and started the car. “We should park a few miles from the mission just so I can work off that breakfast.”
When we got to the mission that matched Maggie’s postcard, there was no reason to park far away. The entire lot was empty. It looked like it hadn’t been used in a while and as Nathan parked the car, I saw a tumbleweed blow by.
“Wow. I didn’t think that actually happened,” I said.
“Maybe you’ll see it again after we take a lap around the place.” Nathan hauled himself from the car.
“You still trying to work off breakfast burritos?” I asked.
Nathan started off around the mission ahead of me. “Something like that.”
I followed behind and wondered why Nathan was hesitating now. Maybe it was the fact that we were so close; to find out our lead was bogus would hurt too much. Or maybe Nathan was afraid of what he would find out.
I remembered how surprised he’d been when the police officer recognized him in Springer, New Mexico. It was possible whoever was inside the mission would know him as well.
What if we finally found out that he’d done something horrible?
“You didn’t.” I caught up and intertwined my fingers with Nathan’s.
“Didn’t do what?” he asked.
“Whatever it is you’re afraid of. I know you’re the good guy,” I said.
He lifted our hands to his mouth and kissed the back of my hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Good. Can we go in now?”
Nathan chuckled and led the way back to the mission door. As soon as it swung open, we could see his fears were unfounded. There wasn’t a single soul inside. Only pictures of saints hanging in heavy old-fashioned frames on the wall. And rows and rows of empty pews.
We walked down the center aisle, not sure what we should be looking for.
“It’s getting close to lunchtime. Maybe all the tourists are enjoying some Tex-Mex,” I said.
“Could be. Still, it looks like a museum. Why would a kid like Maggie come here?” Nathan asked.
I tugged on Nathan’s hand and turned him around. Then I pointed down a long hallway. “Well, there is a gift shop,” I said.
The gift shop turned out to be a little nook inside the mission’s main doors. The large, arched doors were locked but the gift shop door was open. Inside, a small bell rang as someone came through the ‘employees only’ door.
“Welcome, welcome. How can I help you, folks?” The security guard had grizzled gray hair and a hard look, but his words were friendly enough.
“We’re looking for postcards,” I said. Then I gave him my best smile.
He softened a tiny fraction of an inch. “Whole wall of postcards over here. Just tell me the number at the counter and you can buy one for twenty-five cents.”
Nathan stepped up to the wall of choices and grinned. “Man, I miss postcards. I used to get postcards from all over when my old man was in the service.”
“Which branch?” the gruff security guard asked.
“Navy Seals. Same as me.” Nathan bit his cheeks as he remembered his current status with the Navy Seals was less than stellar.
“Good to see a military man,” the security guard said. “Don’t feel like there are enough these days. Too many people choosing the almighty dollar over Uncle Sam.”
“Exactly,” Nathan said.
It was hard to tell if he was still chatting with the security guard or sending me a message. Nathan nodded toward the wall, and I spotted the same exact postcard that Maggie had sent out.
“Can I have one of number nine?” I asked.
The guard nodded and took his time strolling behind the gift shop counter. He slowly flipped through the box of postcards and then pulled out my request.
“Don’t suppose you’d swap it for a kiss,” he said with the grin of an old fox.
“She wouldn’t, but we would love to get a tour of the place,” Nathan said.
The old guard chuckled. “All right, don’t worry. I’d be possessive, too, if she were on my arm. Sorry about the tour, though, no one will be here until three o’clock.”
“I bet you know the history better than the volunteers,” Nathan said.
The security guard gave a curt nod and then sighed. “All right. You can come along on my rounds.”
“Who’s that?” I asked as we walked back into the sanctuary section. The saint on the wall wielded a sword of fire.
“Not much on the saints,” the security guard said. “All I know is that I was a bad man but my time in the Army turned it around for me.”
“I’m worried I’m going the opposite direction,” Nathan muttered.
“What’d he say?” the security guard asked me.
“When was this church erected?” I asked with a bright smile.
He tipped back his hat and scratched his forehead. “Well, this is one of the oldest churches in Texas. Built in the 1600s. You folks big on history or religion or both?”
Nathan snorted. “Neither. To tell the truth, the only reason we came here was because she wouldn’t stop bothering me about this little girl’s lost backpack.”
I picked up on Nathan’s hint. “Yes. We found a little girl’s backpack, and it had this mission postcard inside. We figured she might come looking for her stuff here.”
Nathan showed the security guard Maggie’s picture. “Have you seen her?”
He raised one eyebrow at both of us before he snatched the photograph from Nathan’s hand. The security guard studied it close, but studied us longer. “You two don’t have children of your own?”
“We just met.” It was a reflex that had me cringing. The Cramers were newlyweds, college sweethearts.
“We really just want to return her backpack and get back on our road trip, you know?” Nathan held out his hand for the photograph.
The security guard was not quick to return it. “You find this photograph of her in the backpack, too?” he asked. “It certainly doesn’t look like any place around here.”
Nathan grabbed the photograph from him. “It was a long shot,” he said.
“Now, wait a minute. Don’t get all twisted up. We get a lot of kids through here. School field trips are the majority of our guests.” The security guard shooed us back the way we came. “Nothing is scheduled for today, but our education coordinator came in to use the Internet.”
We let the security guard get ahead of us, then Nathan paused to examine a saint’s painting. “What do you think?” he asked.
“I don’t think he’s trying to sneak off and call the police,” I said. The memory of Mrs. Wheeler was still vivid in my mind, but the security guard didn’t have her nervous, fearful eyes.
“You think Maggie came through here with a school field trip?” Nathan asked.
“Not unless her school paid for a very long bus trip,” I pointed out.
“But she had to be here. The postcard is an exact match,” Nathan said. “She must have come through here.”
The education coordinator turned out to be a very bored college-aged girl. She snapped her gum when she saw the security guard, but didn’t bother to get her feet off her antique desk.
“Misty, these folks want to ask about a little girl that came through a while back,” the security guard said.
Misty sat up a few inches and glanced at the photograph Nathan held out. “Haven’t seen her. Actually, like, I mean, I’ve seen a dozen girls a day who look a lot like here, but never totally her. She your daughter or something?”
“They found her backpack and are trying to track her down,” the security guard explained.
“Weird. Why didn’t they just leave it in lost and found?” Misty asked.
“Thanks for all your help.” Nathan pocketed the photograph and took my hand.
“Lost and found is by the back door.” Misty snapped her gum and went back to surfing the Internet.
“Sorry about that, folks. Good luck to you.” The security guard nodded us out the door.
“What if they’re calling the police now?” Nathan whispered. He started walking too fast.
“Slow down. Everything’s fine. At least we know that Maggie was here,” I said.
“How? You heard them. Dozens of girls just like her travel through here every day,” Nathan said.
I pulled him to sit down on the mission steps. “You’re forgetting what the man at the gas station said. You can’t get these postcards in other places. They are specially printed postcards to benefit the missions. Maggie had to be here in order to send out that postcard.”
We sat and watched as a few cars pulled into the parking lot. People headed straight for the native plant garden that we hadn’t even noticed. A school bus pulled up, and we could hear the kids singing a chanting song inside.
It was hard not to feel the optimism and energy coming from the busload of children, because I didn’t feel it inside. We’d come all this way only to find out there was nothing else we could discover. Inside, I felt empty, and hopeless.
Nathan leaned his head on my arm. I took a deep breath and pasted a smile on my face.
“We’re close. We have to be,” I told him.
He kissed my cheek and stood up. “You’re right. I’m going to have one last look around.”
I blew him a kiss and waited until he’d disappeared inside to drop the act. I knew we had to stay hopeful, it was all we had, but I didn’t even know what to hope for anymore.