Free Little Lost Angel by Michael Quinlan Page B

stepchildren, Larry Dale and Sandy, and his daughter, Shanda, on the weekends. During the warm months that meant regular family trips to a lakeside cabin in Kentucky. In the winter, Steve would often tinker around in his garage on Saturdays and Sundays or tackle minor household chores—taking time out to watch car racing and college basketball.
    But this weekend, he’d talked himself and several relatives into a major project. Steve’s father and stepfather were coming over early Saturday morning to help him rip up carpet and knock down a wall to expand the living room in his house.
    When Steve arrived at Jacque’s townhouse to pick upShanda on Friday afternoon, the first words out of his daughter’s mouth were, “Can I help on the living room?”
    “Sure you can, honey,” he said. An extra hand, even a young, overeager one, was always welcome.
    That evening, as Shanda was helping Steve unload lumber from his truck, she got a call from her friend Michele Durham, who lived a few blocks away. Michele had big news: A boy who lived nearby was having a birthday party and Shanda was invited.
    “Can I go?” Shanda asked.
    Steve and Sharon had planned on ordering a pizza and spending the night with Shanda in front of the television. But they knew Michele to be a nice girl, and after all that Shanda had been through lately she deserved to have some fun. Within a minute of Steve’s approval, Shanda had conveyed the news to Michele, hung up the phone, and set up shop in front of the bathroom mirror. “What am I going to do with my hair?” she moaned to Sharon.
    *  *  *
    It was just starting to get dark when Laurie pulled her car down Capital Hills Drive and edged over to the side of the road a few doors down from the Sharers’ house.
    Melinda turned to Toni and Hope and ordered them to go to the door.
    “Why don’t you go up?” Toni asked nervously.
    “Because she won’t come out if she sees Melinda,” Laurie said tersely.
    “Well why don’t you go up?” Toni asked Laurie.
    “Because I’m driving,” Laurie said impatiently. “Are you going to chicken out or what?”
    Hope intervened. “Come on, Toni, let’s go.”
    “Don’t forget now,” Melinda said, reminding them of the plan they’d been going over on the way there. “Tell her you’re friends of Amanda’s and that Amanda wants Shanda to go with you and meet her somewhere.”
    Toni followed Hope reluctantly to the Sharers’ front door.
    Steve was relaxing on the living-room couch, Sharon was in the kitchen, and Shanda was still busy in the bathroom when they heard the knock. Before Steve or Sharon couldmake a move, Shanda had breezed past them and opened the front door.
    “Is Shanda here?” Hope asked.
    “I’m Shanda.”
    “Hi, my name is Hope. I’m a friend of Amanda’s.”
    Shanda told Hope to lower her voice, then stepped out on the front porch so that her father wouldn’t hear Amanda’s name mentioned. Hope was about to introduce Toni when Toni spoke up. “Hi, I’m Stacy,” she said. The fake name momentarily startled Hope, but she continued with the story Melinda had concocted and told Shanda that Amanda was waiting for her at a neat place down by the river called the Witches’ Castle.
    “Amanda really needs to talk with you,” Hope said. “It’s real important.”
    “I can’t leave now,” Shanda said. “Besides, I’m going to a party tonight.”
    “But you really need to talk to Amanda,” Hope insisted. “She needs to tell you something.”
    Shanda’s curiosity was piqued. “I know what,” she said. “Why don’t you bring Amanda back by my house later tonight, around midnight? I’ll try to sneak out for a little while.”
    Sensing that this was the best they were going to do, Hope and Toni said goodbye, then spun around and raced back to the car.
    “Who was that?” Steve asked as Shanda came back inside.
    “Just some friends from school,” she lied matter-of-factly, then quickly turned the corner into the