Courage Tree by Diane Chamberlain Page B

for the key to the room, and he carefully locked the door and pocketed the key before walking through the living room to the front door. Opening the door, he stepped onto the deck and leaned over the railing, slipping into the blinding glare from a flashlight.
    “Yes?” he called, lifting his hand to block the glare.
    The flashlight was instantly turned off. “Sorry,” the man said. He was now illuminated by the deck light, which fell in a soft glow over the trees and cast shadows through the woods.The light bounced off the badge on the man’s uniform, sending an icicle of fear up Lucas’s spine.
    Damn.
    “Are you Lucas Trowell?” the man asked.
    “Yes,” Lucas said, wondering if the county would send a policeman on a Sunday evening to tell him his house was out of code in yet another way. The county was never quite sure what to do about his tree house.
    “Can I come up there for a minute?” the officer asked.
    “Sure.” Lucas leaned over the railing again to point to the broad trunk of the oak tree beneath his house. “Can you see the steps? They’re around the back of the oak.”
    “Right. I see them.”
    Lucas listened as the man climbed the stairs, cringing at the squeaking sound a couple of them made. They were not rotted or anything like that, but he knew he should fix them, anyway. He had so little time these days to get work done on the house, though.
    He didn’t like the anxiety he felt as the policeman neared the top of the stairs. Did everyone feel a pang of guilt when a cop wanted to see them? Did everyone’s mind race, searching for the reason for the visit? Or did that happen only to a person with something to hide?
    The policeman joined Lucas on the deck. He was a young guy— very young—blond and blue-eyed, and he was grinning. Lucas’s anxiety dropped a notch.
    “Totally cool,” the cop said. “I’ve always wanted to see this place. Everyone talks about it, but I don’t know anyone who’s seen it up close.”
    “What can I do for you?” Lucas asked.
    “Do you actually live up here?” The cop was not ready to get down to business, and Lucas wondered if his banter was intentional. Was he trying to throw him off guard? “Or do you just come up to get away from the house every once in while?”He looked toward the small, nondescript brick rambler, dark at the edge of the woods.
    “I live up here as much as is reasonable,” Lucas said. “I store things in the house, and I cook in the house. I don’t like to keep food up here. I think I’d have a bug problem. The trees go through the house, and I have a steady stream of ants and spiders as it is. We’re living harmoniously at the moment, but I wouldn’t want to encourage any more of them to visit.”
    “Any chance I can see inside?” the officer asked.
    “In a minute,” Lucas said. He’d had enough of the game playing. “First, though, tell me why you’re here.”
    “Yes. Sure.” The young man looked embarrassed, and Lucas relaxed to see that the cop’s interest had, in all likelihood, been genuine and not some ruse to get him to open up. He’d been seduced by the trees. It was usually that way. People lost themselves up here. They forgot about everything else in the world, at least for a moment. “I’m Officer Russo,” he said. “You work over at the Ayr Creek estate, right?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Well, the little girl who lives there…”
    “Sophie.” He felt his heartbeat quicken, but carefully kept his face impassive.
    “Sophie. Right. She was away at a camp this weekend and she was due back at Meadowlark Gardens at three, but she and one of the other girls and their leader never showed up. So I’m talking to people who know her to see if they might have any information.”
    “I don’t understand,” he said. “Are you saying the rest of the girls are back?”
    “Right. They showed up on time, but they were riding in a separate vehicle.”
    “Maybe Sophie’s ride got a late start?” Lucas