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Chapter 2

Emergency plans should include provisions for your pets and for anyone in the family such as infants, small children, the elderly or those with special needs who might need extra help or individualized supplies.

From the Notebook of Maggie McDonald

Simplicity Itself Organizing Services

Sunday, August 6, Morning

I’d driven as quickly as I could to Tess’s house, a typical Northern California ranch-style tract home built in the early 1960s, down the street from the local middle school. I parked in the driveway and took a moment to collect myself. I’d dashed out of the house so fast that I hadn’t taken the time to consider my outfit. Were the jeans, T-shirt, and clog sneakers I’d thrown on at dawn appropriate for meeting with a county official? Looking in the rearview mirror, I finger-combed my hair and plucked a cobweb from my shoulder. It would have to do.

I walked through the side gate and into the backyard, where a well-appointed covered deck served as an outdoor entertainment area in all but the worst winter storms. Tess’s kitchen door was always open to friends of the Olmos family. I opened the door without knocking, entered the kitchen, and smiled at Teddy, who sat cross-legged on the checkerboard-patterned tile floor, hugging Mozart, a German shepherd with a perpetually puzzled expression.

Mozart looked up and wagged his tail, but stuck close to Teddy. I wasn’t sure what to say to a fourteen-year-old who was waiting to learn if his father had perished. I didn’t know what Tess had already told him.

“Hey, Teddy,” I said.

Tess, with high heels clicking, burst into the room, saving me from finding words appropriate to the situation.

“Is this stupid? This is stupid. No one gets dressed up to visit the medical examiner.” She tugged on her black suit jacket and straightened her already perfectly aligned skirt. I had a hunch she’d chosen her outfit to boost her confidence. Her fashion sense had two modes. At home, she was schlumpy Tess in sweats and Uggs. At work, in the rocket-fast, megabucks world of Silicon Valley real estate, she was a fashionista in designer shoes and suits, with her velvet-black hair confined in a neatly pinned French twist.

In her kick-back clothing, Tess was my best pal. Dressed up, she was scary, and I referred to her not-so-secretly as “the dominatrix.” The Tess who stood before me now was terrified and had donned the suit as armor to help her face today’s horrifying news. I pulled her into a reassuring hug. Whether the gesture was for her comfort or my own, I wasn’t certain.

“Don’t you dare say anything nice,” Tess said. She returned my embrace, then gently pushed me away. “If you do, I’ll fall apart.”

Teddy cleared his throat and spoke in a voice an octave lower than his normal boyish alto. “I want to go with you.” I turned from Tess to Teddy. Teddy still had his arm wrapped around Mozart, who nudged the chin of his boy with his snout. The young teen’s eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t say whether his wish to accompany Tess was that of a nearly grown man desperate to protect a loved one, or that of a young boy looking for comfort from his mother. I suspected Teddy wasn’t sure either.

Tess shook her head, took a deep breath, and knelt by Teddy’s side. Instead of the hug I’d expected, she leaned into him, mirroring the posture of the German shepherd on her son’s right. It was a portrait of love, made irresistible by the befuddled look on Mozart’s face created by the combination of his tilted head and one-up, one-down ears. Nobody spoke. At least not in words.

I heard car doors slamming in front of the house, and assumed that my chaos-inducing family was about to dramatically alter the atmosphere in the Olmos kitchen.

“Teddy—” I began, but stopped as soon as I realized Tess was speaking softly to her son while patting his arm.

“It would be a waste of time,” she told him. “You know it’s not Dad. He wouldn’t have been running up there in the smoke. Not with the fire approaching. Not on the ridge. There were actual flames up there late last night. He’s smarter than that. Much smarter.” Mother and son looked into each other’s eyes, with a big, unspoken “but what if...” suspended between them.

I interrupted. “Teddy,” I began. “Your mom is right. You need to stay here to answer the phone in case your dad calls. Or so you can text your mom to let her know if he turns up here.”

What sounded like an entire cleat-shod football team of young men clomped across the redwood deck. It was Brian and David, along with Max and Paolo, a friend of the family and the youngest officer in the Orchard View Police Department.

Brian and David burst through the door as usual, but then stopped quickly and took a step back. Both boys glanced from Teddy to their dad, as if terrified that losing a father was contagious. Max, thankfully, seemed sensitive to all the emotions in the room. He patted each of his boys on the back, then rubbed his hands together, stepped forward, and tossed his keys to Teddy. With an athlete’s instincts, Teddy deftly palmed the keys.

“We need your help to unload the car, Teddy,” Max said. “Up and at ’em. You wouldn’t believe what’s packed in there. I’ve been tasked with taking you all to In-N-Out for lunch. Unless we start shifting the boxes, I’ll have no room for an extra passenger.”

“Or unless we put Brian on the roof,” David added.

Teddy grinned, looking reassured by Max’s action-filled agenda. He dangled the keys at the other two boys and said, “Where should we go? Is there a concert at Shoreline?” His teasing words clashed with the heavy dose of anguish in his voice, but my boys played along.

“If we’re stealing a car, we’re heading to the Boardwalk in Santa Cruz,” David said. “Roller coaster here we come.”

But Brian was impatient. “Hurry up,” he called over his shoulder as he headed out to the deck. “Where do you want the cats? Holmes and Watson will be super ticked off after the car ride. We got to get ’em out of there first.”

The rest of the conversation trailed off as the boys moved toward the cars.

Max gave Tess a quick hug, and Paolo held up his keys. “Stephen and Jason will stop by later, but they asked me to drive you to Santa Clara, using full lights and siren if needed. They’re thinking that with a police officer in tow, you’ll cut through any bureaucratic red tape as quickly as possible. We’ll go in, get it done, and get out in a flash. Let’s go.”

Paolo turned, looking over his shoulder as if he expected us to troop behind him as ordered. His demeanor seemed rushed, impersonal, and not at all like Paolo. But then I realized…He was doing it on purpose—helping Tess by keeping her moving and preventing her from thinking too much. He’d apparently been thoroughly briefed by Jason Mueller, the current chief of the Orchard View Police Department and Paolo’s first partner on the force. A marine veteran with years of law enforcement under his duty belt, Jason knew how to care for the worried and bereaved. Stephen, Jason’s husband, had been injured in Afghanistan and now worked with human and canine survivors of America’s wars at the Veteran’s Administration in Palo Alto.

But Tess looked hesitant to leave her home, where undoubtedly she still felt confident Patrick might walk through the door, apologizing for worrying everyone.

“Come on, Tess.” I held her arm and pulled gently. “There won’t be room for us in here in a moment anyway. Stephen and Jason will bring Munchkin. With Mozart and Belle here, it’ll be like doggy day care. If we get a move on, we’ll beat the Sunday traffic as beachgoers get ready for work tomorrow.”

Max followed us, blocking Tess from any means of retreat. “We’ve got our plan. First the car. Then a run for the dogs. And the boys. Then food. I’ll keep ’em moving ’til they drop. Your Teddy is in good hands.”

Tess lifted her chin without responding, squared her shoulders, and stepped toward the door. I guessed it was the hardest move she’d ever had to make. I stayed glued to her side as we walked to the car.