Page 92 of Reckoning

Bud Springer was heartsick. “No son, not yet. Are you okay?”

“Daddy! I sent an email to that Tate Bandy guy. The psychic you and Mama were talking about! And he answered almost instantly. I told him we’d lost PawPaw. I told him I didn’t have any money to pay, and he still talked to me. I wrote down everything he said to tell you. Daddy! I know where PawPaw is!”

Bud was in shock. “I thought you left that damn laptop at home.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t,” Evan said.

Bud frowned. “What if he was just lying to you?”

Evan persisted. “Then he was lying for free, because he did this out of the goodness of his heart. Just follow these directions and see for yourself.”

Then he read them aloud to his daddy, then repeated it again. “He saw road signs. He saw the sign to Bigfoot Treehouse in his vision. He saw PawPaw lying on a bed inside it. He even described that ramp you walk up to get into the house. He doesn’t think PawPaw is hurt or sick, but he thinks he just got tired and found a place to sleep.”

“I hear you, son. We’ll go look, okay?”

“Yes. And call me back when you find him,” Evan said.

“If we find him,” Bud corrected.

“Daddy, doubt never did get anything done. Stop arguing with me and go look. Please! If it wasn’t for my stupid ankle, I’d run there.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell the searchers right now. And I promise to call you back. Just stay off your foot.”

The call ended. Evan went back inside the tent to log out of his laptop, then got a cold pop from the ice chest and hobbled to the folding chairs scattered out in the shade beneath some trees.

He took a quick drink and then rubbed the cold side of the can across his forehead and settled down to wait for the call.

* * *

Bud Springer keyed up his walkie, told the search team the story, and waited for derision, but it didn’t come. They had heard enough about Tate Bandy’s gift to give him the benefit of the doubt. Every searcher in the area was on a four-wheeler, and the roar they made when they all turned and headed north echoed across the lake.

The first ones to reach Bigfoot Treehouse were members of the sheriff’s department. They stormed the ramp, entered the house, and found the old man asleep on a bed—just like Tate Bandy said they would—then woke him up to check for injuries.

PawPaw Springer sat up on the side of the bed, told them he’d been taking a break, and asked if it was quitting time.

A sheriff’s deputy patted him on the back, gave him a big drink of water, and after letting the searchers know that he’d been found exactly where Bandy said he would be, he offered him a ride.

“On your bike?” PawPaw asked.

“Yes, sir, right behind me. Would that be okay?” the deputy asked.

The old man nodded.

They walked him back down the ramp, loaded him up on the back of the deputy’s four-wheeler, and went back to the Springer campsite.

No one was more shocked than Bud Springer when he got the news. He immediately called Evan to let him know, and that they were on their way back to the campsite.

“Good, and Daddy…I think it’s time to go home.”

“I think you’re right, son,” Bud said.

* * *

The local news had already announced the old man missing, so when he was recovered uninjured, the sheriff’s department issued a statement to that effect. But the family was on scene at the press conference, too, and Evan Springer wasted no time telling the media about reaching out to Tate, then writing down the directions Tate gave him that led them straight to the old man’s location. Again, a police department was forced to admit Tate Bandy’s directions were on the money.

* * *

Back in Star Ridge, Tate was parked in the high school parking lot, waiting on Briar to come out of the building. She knew he was going to pick her up, so when the bell rang and the students came flying out, he spotted her instantly. The wind was playing fast and loose with her hair, and she was slightly stooped by the weight of books in her backpack. Her face lit up when she saw him, then she smiled and waved.