plaid jumper and knee socks, ready for school, asleep on the couch in Gus's office. Gus had gotten her up much earlier than usual, dressed her in her elementary school uniform, and taken her to work with him. She'd been out cold since they'd arrived downtown more than two hours ago, before dawn. He'd managed not to wake her as he held her in the elevator and carried her to the couch. She didn't have to be at school till nine, but he had to be at the office before seven. He arrived on time, sleepy kid in tow.
At eight-fifteen the eyes blinked open, and she began to stir. Gus looked up from the paperwork spread across his desk. He had never watched Morgan wake before, at least not the whole adorable process. It was such a contrast to the adult world of buzzing jolts from alarm clocks. He thought of those time-released films of flowers in bloom. She yawned like a bear cub shaking off hibernation, fending off the sunlight streaming through the east window of the big corner office.
She slid off the couch and went straight to the window, struck by the view from the forty-ninth floor. "Wow. This is like the Space Needle."
Her nose was pressed against the glass as she gazed toward snow-capped Mt. Rainier. Gus smiled wanly, the n s hrank inside. Six years old, and Morgan had never been to her father's office.
"No wonder you live here." The window fogged as she spoke into it.
"This is just an office, sweetheart. Daddy doesn't live here."
"Mommy says you do."
The words cut to the core. No point debating it.
Morgan stepped away from the window. The colorful collection of carved wooden horses on the end table had caught her attention. She took one. Gus jumped up before she could grab the others. "Those aren't toys, honey."
"They look like toys."
"That's because they were, once. But now they're antiques. Expensive antiques." He took the carved thoroughbred and put it back on the table by the others.
"Are you going to take me to school today?"
"Sort of."
A young man appeared in the open doorway. "Ready, Mr. Wheatley?"
Morgan glanced up, as if to ask, "Who's that?"
Gus got down on one knee so they could speak eye to eye. "Morgan, this is Jeremy. He's very nice. He works in the mail room. He's going to take Daddy's car and drive you to school."
"Why don't you take me?"
"I can't. Not today."
"Why can't Mommy take me?"
"It's like I said last night. Mommy is taking some time away."
She frowned. "Will she pick me up?"
"I don't know. We'll see.'
Morgan lowered her head in silence. Gus wasn't sure if he should say something, maybe give her a hug. He rose and gave Jeremy the car keys. "She goes to Bertschi."
"To what?"
Jeremy wasn't the kind of kid who'd know the way to a grade school with a five-figure annual tuition. Gus quickly sketched a map on his legal pad. "It's on Tenth Avenue. Easy to find. Drive carefully. And be sure she rides in the backseat."
"No problem."
Morgan was still visibly upset. With one finger Gus lifted her chin from her chest. "Hey, no long faces, okay? I promise, if your mother doesn't pick you up this afternoon, I'll pick you up myself. Is that a deal?"
She clutched her nylon book bag, saying nothing.
He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Can Daddy have a hug?"
Her arms never left her side. He hugged her anyway, but she didn't hug back. He rose, somewhat embarrassed in front of Jeremy. "You better get going. She has to be there by nine."
Jeremy guided Morgan to the door. Gus watched as they passed the secretarial pod outside his office and started down the hall. Instinct told him to act normal around Morgan until he heard from the police, not to say anything that might scare her. Problem was, he had very little sense of what was "normal" between him and Morgan.
He closed the door and started back toward his desk. He stopped in mid-step. The end table caught his attention, his collection of antique horses. One of them was missing. The one Morgan had been playing with.
He checked first under the
At eight-fifteen the eyes blinked open, and she began to stir. Gus looked up from the paperwork spread across his desk. He had never watched Morgan wake before, at least not the whole adorable process. It was such a contrast to the adult world of buzzing jolts from alarm clocks. He thought of those time-released films of flowers in bloom. She yawned like a bear cub shaking off hibernation, fending off the sunlight streaming through the east window of the big corner office.
She slid off the couch and went straight to the window, struck by the view from the forty-ninth floor. "Wow. This is like the Space Needle."
Her nose was pressed against the glass as she gazed toward snow-capped Mt. Rainier. Gus smiled wanly, the n s hrank inside. Six years old, and Morgan had never been to her father's office.
"No wonder you live here." The window fogged as she spoke into it.
"This is just an office, sweetheart. Daddy doesn't live here."
"Mommy says you do."
The words cut to the core. No point debating it.
Morgan stepped away from the window. The colorful collection of carved wooden horses on the end table had caught her attention. She took one. Gus jumped up before she could grab the others. "Those aren't toys, honey."
"They look like toys."
"That's because they were, once. But now they're antiques. Expensive antiques." He took the carved thoroughbred and put it back on the table by the others.
"Are you going to take me to school today?"
"Sort of."
A young man appeared in the open doorway. "Ready, Mr. Wheatley?"
Morgan glanced up, as if to ask, "Who's that?"
Gus got down on one knee so they could speak eye to eye. "Morgan, this is Jeremy. He's very nice. He works in the mail room. He's going to take Daddy's car and drive you to school."
"Why don't you take me?"
"I can't. Not today."
"Why can't Mommy take me?"
"It's like I said last night. Mommy is taking some time away."
She frowned. "Will she pick me up?"
"I don't know. We'll see.'
Morgan lowered her head in silence. Gus wasn't sure if he should say something, maybe give her a hug. He rose and gave Jeremy the car keys. "She goes to Bertschi."
"To what?"
Jeremy wasn't the kind of kid who'd know the way to a grade school with a five-figure annual tuition. Gus quickly sketched a map on his legal pad. "It's on Tenth Avenue. Easy to find. Drive carefully. And be sure she rides in the backseat."
"No problem."
Morgan was still visibly upset. With one finger Gus lifted her chin from her chest. "Hey, no long faces, okay? I promise, if your mother doesn't pick you up this afternoon, I'll pick you up myself. Is that a deal?"
She clutched her nylon book bag, saying nothing.
He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Can Daddy have a hug?"
Her arms never left her side. He hugged her anyway, but she didn't hug back. He rose, somewhat embarrassed in front of Jeremy. "You better get going. She has to be there by nine."
Jeremy guided Morgan to the door. Gus watched as they passed the secretarial pod outside his office and started down the hall. Instinct told him to act normal around Morgan until he heard from the police, not to say anything that might scare her. Problem was, he had very little sense of what was "normal" between him and Morgan.
He closed the door and started back toward his desk. He stopped in mid-step. The end table caught his attention, his collection of antique horses. One of them was missing. The one Morgan had been playing with.
He checked first under the
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