Page 45 of (Mostly) Human Resources

“Sure does.” Another apology owed to Elliot, but it got the conversation moving in the right direction. Alexys dropped the rock back in its spot in the dirt and brushed the dirt off her hands onto her jeans. “Have you seen him? We were playing hide-and-seek, and I think he got lost.”

The look of genuine worry that creased his brow was the cutest thing she’d ever seen. But he just shook his head.

“I don’t think I’ve seen him, but I only play around here. Mama always tells me to stay close to home so I can make it home for supper. Says I’m a growin’ boy, can’t miss my supper.”

“She’s right. That’s a good rule to have.”

“You could come back with me if ya want?” Alexys was reluctant to immediately agree, but she could ask the boy’s mother about Elliot, or even use a landline if they had one to call Nic or someone at the office.

“Are you sure your mom won’t mind?”

He shook his head emphatically, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Nah, Mama loves visitors. Gets ’em all the time!” Waylan took off through the trees, not looking back even once to see if she followed.

Alexys hesitated, like any person with common sense would. She looked back over her shoulder in the direction shethoughtOpal’s house might be and frowned. The odds of finding her way back weren’t great to begin with, and the thought of spending a night alone in those woods, in the dark, was not what Alexys had in mind when she first heard about the in-field evaluations.

“Come on!” Waylan’s voice echoed through the woods, and she could barely make out his silhouette through the dense kudzu crawling over the trees.

Her stomach growled, so Alexys gave in and set off after the barefoot boy.

She immediately wished she hadn’t.

Waylan led her through bushes and brambles for what had to have been hours. Their path meandered this way and that, every so often merging with a deer trail that was blessedly gentler on her poor office-accustomed feet.

“Close by, my ass. This issohow I get murdered.” Alexys ducked under another low-hanging tree branch and tried to keep her eyes on Waylan as she struggled through thick underbrush. “Natalie is going to kill me for this. I’m going to die in these woods, and then she’s going to resurrect me just to kill me herself. Dyre is going to give my eulogy, and he’s going to sayI told her soat least twelve times.”

“Are you coming or what?” Waylan was standing on a fallen log and looking every bit the part of an Appalachian Peter Pan.

Alexys didn’t want to take her frustration out on him, but the sweat trickling down her back and sticking her hair to her neck was wearing her patience extremely thin. She shouted back, “I’m not used to hiking like this!”

“Hiking?” He hopped off the log and jogged up to stand beside her. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his overalls, he said, “This isn’t even close to the hiking I do with my Papaw. Say, where are you from?”

“Nowhere you would know.” The words slipped out before she thought them through, and Alexys winced at the bite behind them.

Waylan, bless him, looked blissfully unaware of her jab.

“I’m from Georgia,” she amended, “but I’ve lived in a big city for a long time.”

Waylan waited for her to catch up and patted her on the arm, his expression full of concern.

“That sounds awful.” Before she could argue the merits of living in a city, he turned and bounded off into the trees.

“Like a damn baby deer,” Alexys muttered to herself. “Must be nice.”

They hiked—or in Waylan’s case, effortlessly dashed—through the woods until the sun began to dip between the treetops. The world around them was bathed in a beautiful display of green and gold that she was sure couldn’t be seen anywhere else. A cold breeze picked up, and the sound of crickets began their pre-dusk chorus. At several points, Alexys considered turning back, but her chances of finding her way back grew less likely the farther they walked, and her only hope of getting back looked like it might rest in the hands of this strange boy’s family. Finally, when she was beginning to think her legs would give out from under her, they arrived at Waylan’s house.

Any hope Alexys had of a warm meal or welcome vanished.

The house, if you could even call it that, was derelict. Pieces of wood, tin roofing, and other debris littered the ground around the skeletal remains of the structure. The stairs that once led up to the front porch had caved in. If she were to hazard a guess, the house had been empty for a very,verylong time.

Alexys turned to ask Waylan where they were, but the boy was no longer standing beside her. Her gaze swept the trees looking for his dusty overalls and blond curls, but she saw no trace of him.

“Waylan?” Alexys spun a full circle. Fear took hold of her heart in a vice-grip.

“Waylan,” she called again. “This isn’t funny!”

Only the singing crickets and screaming cicadas replied.

Her breathing kicked up, and a rushing sound began to fill her ears. She had followed him for hours,hours, and now she didn’t know where she was. Alexys reached into her pocket. She held the phone up and out, watching as the compass spun round and round.