The street kid took off,
disappearing seconds after leaving them.
Sebastian turned to his
partner. “You hungry, baby?”
Carrie nodded. “Let’s go
see if the homeless shelter’s food is as bad as he said,
gramps...”
***
Sebastian slipped a fifty
into the shelter’s donation box, before he and Carrie took their
place in the line.
“ Do you see her?” Carrie
asked over the growing sound of yet another approaching
storm.
“ No.” Sebastian took the
tray the volunteer handed him. The middle-aged woman eyed him and
Carrie with clear doubt and suspicion on her face. Sebastian gave
her a nod. He would make a point of speaking with her later. She’d
probably seen every single person who’d went through the food line.
“Pick a seat. Likely candidates to talk about a teenage
runaway.”
“ Table near the back.
Family of four. They’ll probably be willing to help a lost kid.”
Carrie’s tone was low, sad. Sebastian followed her gaze,
understanding what bothered her about the sight. Two young people
and two young children, all dressed shabbily but neat. They
shouldn’t have needed the shelter, but they did. No one in the room
should have needed the shelter. But they did. Sebastian was
grateful that he and Carrie were just visiting, and thankful for
what he had.
Neither spoke as they
crossed the dining area.
Carrie was the first to
reach the target table. “May we sit here?”
The mother looked up, eyes
widening with nerves. Sebastian knew what she saw—he and Carrie
didn’t belong. And in this type of place, if someone didn’t belong
they were probably authorities of some sort.
The father tensed, probably
fearing they were social services. The children, early
elementary-aged, just stared out of weary eyes.
“ We don’t mean any harm. We
just want to eat. We’re also looking for a friend,” Carrie said,
placing her tray beside the little girl’s. She smiled at the child,
a sweet expression meant to comfort.
“ We haven’t seen anyone,”
the father said as Sebastian sat his tray down.
“ We have a photograph.”
Carrie pulled the snapshot from her pocket. “She’s only fourteen
and ran away a week ago. Someone said they’d seen her here. We are
hoping so—we thought she was in St. Louis. We really want to find
her before something happens to her. Her name is Ashleigh. She
likes dogs and purple nail polish. Her favorite subject in school
is English because she likes to read,” Carrie continued talking.
Sebastian knew what she was trying to do—appeal to the woman’s
motherly instincts. And it was working, that was evident in the way
the mother’s face was softening.
“ She looks so young...are
you sure she’s fourteen?” The woman picked up the photo before
looking at her own blue-eyed blonde children. Her daughter
especially. “Why on earth did she run? Her parents must be sick
with worry over her.”
“ We don’t know why she
ran. She’s a really good kid; I’ve known her since she was six.
She’s so naïve, too. Ashleigh is not equipped to be out here on her
own. Have you seen her?” Sebastian drew the woman’s attention to
him.
“ We’ve only been coming
here a week. My husband lost his job and we heard there were more
available here than in Detroit. I think I remember her. She may
have been here yesterday, I think. I can’t say for sure. I’m
sorry.”
“ Did she maybe come in with
someone? Sit with anyone in particular? Speak with anyone?” Carrie
gave her apple to the little girl next to her as she
spoke.
“ He—she—came in alone, but
I think Irene may have spoken with her.”
“ Irene?” Sebastian
asked.
“ The woman at the head of
the food line. She runs the shelter and the kitchen.” The father
nodded in the direction of the food line. “Hope you find that
kid.”
Carrie smiled at the man.
“Thank you. And best of luck to you all.”
It took them fifteen
minutes to get Irene to open up to them. The middle-aged woman
who’d first noticed
Learning to Kill: Stories