He had asked about taking the bicycle home, a question she had dodged. She didn’t want to take it, didn’t want him riding around the streets of New York. And even if she were to change her mind, she would want to get him a better bike.

All of which was moot if she couldn’t fit it into the back of the car with the rest of their stuff. To gauge its size, Annie walked over to the side of the porch where Charlie’d been parking the bike.

It was not there.

That gave Annie a brief start, but then she remembered that when the police were here, she’d instructed Charlie to ride it out back of the house. So she rounded the corner, walked down the side, then into the backyard.

The bike was nowhere to be seen.

Annie had a bad feeling.

It could have been stolen, of course. Not as likely here as in New York, but possible. Someone driving by could have seen the bike up by the porch, run up, and taken it. Except it would have been after dark, and the bike would have been hard to see from the road, and who would want a shit bike like that anyway?

Annie ran back around to the front and into the house, no longer making any effort to be quiet. She bounded up the stairs and pushed open the door to Charlie’s room.

The bed was empty.

“Charlie!” Annie shouted loud enough, she believed, to be heard back in New York.

No answer.

Maybe he was in the basement. Why, she couldn’t imagine, but if he was, he might not have heard her calling for him. Seconds later, she was down there, shouting his name every few seconds.

Had he gone sleepwalking again? Had he taken the bike, pedaling madly in a trance-like state?

She ran back out front. If he’d gone the same route as last time, he could be at the defunct railroad crossing. She got in her car, fired it up, and, kicking up gravel, sped down to the road and hung a left. She tromped down on the gas and was at the crossing within a couple of minutes, but there was no sign of Charlie, or his bike.

Daniel.

Would Charlie have gone over there to talk to Daniel or Dolores? Craving another slice of peach pie? It seemed unlikely, but he had to be somewhere. She did a wild three-point turn and sped back, this time turning into Daniel’s place instead of hers, hitting the brakes so hard the SUV did a short skid.

Daniel, evidently an early riser, was at the door before Annie reached it.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Have you seen Charlie?” she asked breathlessly.

“Charlie?”

“He’s gone. His bike, too.”

Daniel shook his head. “No. You been up the road?”

She nodded.

“Both ways?”

Annie blinked. “No.”