“I don’t understand. Why didn’t you just get her committed to a mental hospital?”
“I tried, but in front of them, she appeared perfectly sane. I told them about the threats she’d made but she assured them that even though she’s angry at you, she has no intention of harming you. They wouldn’t keep her. I figured the best thing to do was to come here without her so I could get you away. Come on, there’s no time to waste.”
Finally, Parminder is convinced and we run quickly to her cabin. Luckily, she has traveled light and just has one large backpack into which she throws her things.
“I better go to the office and tell Señor Rodriguez what’s happening,” She says as she zips up the pack.
“No, don’t leave any kind of trail. If she comes here, the less everyone knows the better. Write a note and say you had to leave unexpectedly and that you expect to be back within a few days.” She complies, and then we head to the car.
I drive out of the gates, but instead of heading back to the city, I drive farther up the hill.
“Where are we going?” Parminder asks.
“We’re going somewhere very safe, where it will be very hard to find you.”
I keep driving, bumping along the muddy road. There are no other cars and I’m not surprised. When I was here years ago, I discovered this place, which even the locals didn’t know about it. They said there were many overgrown areas that had paths leading to them, but most of them never got cultivated. The vegetation is so thick that it grows right to the edge of the track, so I can’t park. I stop the car right where we are and we get out.
“Grab your backpack,” I tell Parminder who is looking in wonder around her.
“What’s behind the trees?” she asks as she heaves the backpack onto her back. “A house? A cabin? How on earth did you find out about it? It must be so well hidden.”
She is her usual, annoying self, never giving me a chance to answer one question before she asks the next one. I wonder if I’m trying to dislike Parminder even more, so that I can deal better with what I’m about to do. We walk away from the dirt track, weaving through the tall Sapodillo trees and still there is nothing but dense vegetation. Beyond the trees that line the road, overgrown thickets of banana trees and twelve-foot-high bird of paradise crowd each other out.
I lead the way, pushing aside the massive leaves, the thick stalks already heavy with dangling bunches of unripe bananas as we force our way deeper into the growth. It starts to drizzle.
“Is it much farther?” she asks.
“Not too much,” I say, because I can’t quite decide how far to go. I thought I would just go a few minutes off the path, but each time I tell myself I’ve found the right place, I think I should go a bit farther. Parminder is breathing heavily from the exertion and so am I. I realize that the fact that she is wearing a backpack is an added stroke of luck for me in terms of what I have to do. The rain is falling steadily and it starts to get slippery. We plunge farther and farther into the undergrowth, while I keep telling myself, “You can do this, you must do this.”
I told Wynn I was going back to the retreat center today and that tomorrow I would turn myself in to the police. Wynn sympathized and assured me we would hire a good lawyer so I could get a decent plea deal. But Wynn has always been naïve. First of all, we don’t have money for a good lawyer. Secondly, I do not intend to ruin my life by going to prison or by losing my career.
As soon as she told me she knew what I’d done, I started brainstorming what I could do to change my plan. When she mentioned Parminder, I knew that was my answer. After we went to bed, she fell asleep instantly, but I was wide-awake, working the whole thing out before falling into a feverish sleep. I woke up so jittery yesterday morning that it took booking my flights and car, making an early morning run to the store, and taking a long walk with the dogs to calm me down. Thank goodness I never cancelled her mom’s account with the debit card. Wynn thinks I took care of everything to do with her mom’s finances, but for some reason, even back then, I figured it might be a good idea to hold onto this card. Now the rest of my plan is in motion. I already have Parminder’s confession letter written up using the same lettering I used for the anonymous letters to Kallie’s mom and the building manager. It’s in the glove compartment of the car. I will mail it from Guatemala City directly to Detective Gordon. When he contacts me and tells me where the letter was mailed, I will remember that one of the places we discussed for a possible internship was the Peace Project just a couple of hours from the city. He will contact them and they’ll tell him that she left very suddenly without telling anyone where she was going or why she was leaving. If he asks whether anyone was with her, they’ll say they don’t think so, because nobody saw us leave. Wynn will be off the hook and so will I. That is why I’m doing this, I remind myself and feel a sort of peace coming over me. I can really do this. I stop for a moment and ask Parminder to go in front.
“Oh,” she says excitedly as she pulls ahead of me. “We’re there?” My heart is racing as I reply.
“Yes,” I say, and then I give Parminder the hardest push I can muster. She screams instinctively as the backpack makes her topple forward, face first into the undergrowth. As she sprawls on the ground facedown, I jump on her butt, making sure she can’t move her legs. I lie on top of her and push the top of the pack down with all the force I can, so that it pushes her face into the ground. I don’t know if she is trying to make any sounds because if she did, her mouth would quickly fill with mud and dirt. She struggles by flailing her arms up and down, but she can’t grab me, nor can she get any traction because of the backpack on top of her. As I push down, I wonder at what point she started to feel scared, to realize that something awful was going on, but I can’t let myself think about her feelings. Her arms scrabble and her legs kick, but her face is buried in wet leaves and she can’t move. I press harder and harder. It is only a matter of time before the flailing stops and I know that she has suffocated.
I stand up and pull myself off her body. I know that however annoying she was, she didn’t deserve what I have done, but I had no choice. I choose Wynn above all others, and as a result, someone had to take the fall. I grin grimly to myself, thinking that that is exactly what she did. If they ever find her body, they will assume that she tripped and fell and suffocated in the mud. But I can’t believe they will ever find her. I have chosen her spot well.
I look down at her, wondering whether I should say a prayer to whatever god she may have believed in. But the rain has become torrential and I have no time to waste. The sheets of rain are so heavy I can barely see in front of me. I wonder whether I should sit and wait it out, but I know that this may not just be an afternoon monsoon. It may go on for hours, or even days. I must make my way back to the car. I have a plane to catch in a few hours.
I push my way blindly forward, figuring that as long as I stay in a straight line, I should find myself back at the car within twenty minutes or so. The rain slows me down, but half an hour later I still haven’t found the path. I decide to go back to Parminder’s body so that I can start over. I turn around and as I walk, I picture my conversation with Detective Gordon.
“In the letter she says she’s going to disappear so that no one can find her. Why would she have done that?”
“I think it may be because Wynn was hot on her trail. She tracked her down a couple of days ago.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“She said the last time she tried to talk to you, you suggested that she was paranoid. She was still working on getting you more proof.”
I will make Wynn a heroine.
“Her family members say there’s no way she would just disappear. She’s very close to them.”
“Not really. She was desperate to get away from them. That’s why she went to Guatemala instead of India.”
“But I still don’t understand her motive. She wanted to be a social worker and help people.”
That is when I’ll tell hi
m that I had some very unsettling conversations with her in supervision. She was very judgmental about birth moms but since she was only a first-year student, I decided she should get another chance to see if she would become more professional in her second year.
I play the conversations repeatedly in my head to make sure I’ve left no stone unturned.
After forty minutes, I still haven’t come across Parminder’s body. By now, the earth beneath me is so saturated that pools of water are starting to form and I have to wade through them, or pick my way around them, further putting me off track. The sky is so black from the storm clouds pouring down rain that beneath the foliage, it is starting to get dark. My heart is racing as I feel the panic start to rise in me, as fast the water is rising over the sodden fronds and leaves. I have to get out of here, but I don’t know which way to go. The rain is still coming down in sheets and I can’t see a thing. I push helplessly in all directions, wishing I’d left the car lights on to guide me, wishing I’d thought a bit more about how I would get back to the car, wishing I’d never started any of this. I think back to when I was at the airport looking at the TVs overhead. Did they mention a tropical storm? I don’t know. I was so busy planning out everything that had to happen, that I didn’t pay attention.
I have to get back to the car—but right now that seems to be impossible. I will have to stay here throughout the night and hope that in the morning, the sun comes out and the rain stops. I’ll miss my flight, and will have some explaining to do to Wynn, but I’ll figure something out. I need to find a place to sit. Climbing a tree and sitting on a sturdy branch would be ideal, but banana trees and bird of paradise aren’t conducive to that. I sit on the ground but I feel a pool of water starting to form around me. I’m shivering from cold.
For the first time I start to wonder what will happen if I don’t make it out of here. What will become of Wynn? Everything I did was for her. I love her so much. I hope she knows that. I never meant to harm her, only to keep her safe. But now, I can’t even keep myself safe. Like Parminder, I will drown, or suffocate, and no one will ever find me.
I have to get up. I have to get back to the car. I can’t leave Wynn by herself. I pull myself out of the water and try to keep walking. Sharp edges from the fronds of the banana tree spike me and as I turn around, my head hits a low-hanging branch, and my knees buckle.
I feel myself sinking into the mud and starting to lose consciousness.
I know now that I will never hold Wynn again. I will never be able to tell her that everything I did today was for her. There will be no farewell letter expressing how much I loved her, and telling her that our years together were the happiest of my life.
There will only be silence.
Chapter Thirty-five
Wynn July 1
Barker leaves for the retreat center early, while I’m still asleep. I wake up and luxuriate in having the whole bed to myself, planning my day. At first, I think I will spend it crafting jewelry for the competition, but then I decide instead to try something new. I asked Barker to be patient with my ditzy ways, but the other side of that is that I have to start making an effort to pay more attention. So today, I will start to focus on all the small things that need to be done, and attend to all the details I usually miss. I will clean the house and give the dogs the attention they deserve. I will make Barker’s favorite lasagna for dinner. And if I have time, only then, will I do my jewelry.
I am so proud of Barker for owning up and doing the right thing. If she goes to Gordon first thing tomorrow morning, then I don’t think they’ll keep her overnight at central booking. (How easily that term rolls off my tongue. A month ago, I wouldn’t even have known what it was.) How will he react to her confession? I have a moment of panic when I think that he might suspect she’s just doing it to protect me and won’t believe her, but then I remember that she’ll be able to give him so much proof, it will be irrefutable. I’m pretty sure that because of all the work she’s done for the community, and all the people she knows in law enforcement, they’ll be able to give her a pretty good plea bargain. I still can’t decide whether I should mention the plan I was concocting over the past few days: for Barker to adopt the girls. Once I found out that Mrs. Clark had issues with her own daughters, Barker adopting Kallie and Michaela seemed like an obvious choice. The girls adore Barker, and she cares so much about them. But I’m still struggling to reconcile that with the fact that she put them in harm’s way. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how it all turns out.
I spend the day in a whirlwind of activity and by early evening, the house is spotless, the dogs are fed, and dinner is bubbling in the oven. I call Barker’s cell phone to see if she’s on her way home yet, but it goes directly to her voicemail. I take the lasagna out of the oven and decide to go up to my studio and work on some jewelry until she gets home. I quickly become absorbed in a complicated bracelet design and by the time I check my watch, it’s three hours later. I start to get nervous. I call Barker’s cell phone and again it goes to voicemail. I take the dogs for their last walk of the day and then I decide I’m going to call the retreat center. I root around for the emergency number she left me the last time she went, and dial it. Please let someone answer, I pray silently.
My entreaty is answered when a voice comes on the line.
“Namaste. How may I help you?”
“I’m sorry to bother you so late,” I say, “but could you tell me if my partner, Barker, is still there?”
“Is that a first name or last name?”
“It’s both. She just goes by Barker.”
“Which program is she with?”
“No program. She just came up for the day.”
“We don’t have any day programs. All our retreats are at least two nights.”
“It was a last-minute thing. She just wanted to clear her head. Could you just see whether she left already?” There is silence, except for the rustling of some papers.
“I’m sorry, but there’s no record she was here today.”
I feel my heart start to sink, but I can’t give up yet.
“Is there a chance that she was there without registering?”
“No. Everyone has to sign in at the gate. If she’d come here today, her name would be on the list.”
I hang up and feel all the goodwill and positive energy I’ve had today drain out of me entirely.
She has run away. She had no intention of turning herself in. She has chosen the coward’s way out.
****
The next morning, when there is still no sign of Barker, and no message, I call Detective Gordon and ask if I can meet with him. Without giving him any details, I tell him that Barker and I had a long talk and she implicated herself in the kidnapping and abduction.
“You understand I’m having a hard time believing this. I’ve worked with Barker for fifteen years. I think I know her pretty well.” He looks at me skeptically.
“And I’ve loved her for seventeen years and thought the same thing. I could tell you more but that would be wasting time. Barker’s disappeared. She’s gone, and I need your help finding her.”
“It makes no sense. How do I know you’re not making this up? Worse—how do I know you haven’t done something to her?”
“You don’t. That’s why we need to find her. You’re a detective—you can locate her car, check her phone records. I can’t do any of that. You can also contact Parminder to corroborate the first part of my story.” I give him the information about the Peace Project and he says he’ll make some calls.
I go home, but I can’t settle down. I pace the house, making the dogs nervous. Having swept and vacuumed yesterday, the only thing I can think to do is to clean the oven and the fridge. When the phone rings, I jump nervously, wanting an answer, and dreading one.
“We located her car in the airport parking lot.” He tells me and right away I think, she has fled. Instead of confessing, she has chosen to leave us and run away. But where would she go? She has
no family she can turn to. Then he gives me more information. “We ran her credit card, but didn’t find any purchase of a ticket. However, the FAA confirmed that she used her passport and we tracked down her name on a flight to Guatemala. We checked the car rental agencies and found one in which a gringo rented a car for a day, but never brought it back.”
“Was it Barker?”
“The car was booked under the name of Rosalind Larimer, which was also the name on the credit card used to pay for her flight. What am I to make of the fact that Larimer is your last name?”
“Rosalind was my mother,” I whisper. My head feels thick as if it’s stuffed with cotton balls. “She died two years ago.” Detective Gordon says nothing and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. “Did Barker go to Parminder at the Peace Project?”
“We don’t know. But here’s the strange part. Parminder left the Project suddenly yesterday. Nobody saw her go, and the note she scribbled didn’t give any clue as to where she was headed.”
Then he tells me that Barker had booked a flight home that she never made. That’s when I know something bad has happened, something really bad. However, I also know that she wasn’t leaving me. She wasn’t trying to run away. I don’t know why she went to Parminder, but I do know that she was planning on coming back.
****
Two days later, Detective Gordon stops by the house.
“The Guatemalan authorities found the abandoned rental car not that far from the Peace Project. Barker’s passport was inside the car.”
I walk slowly down the hall, into the kitchen. I sit at the table and put my head down, trying to swallow the sob that is starting to rise in my throat.
Detective Gordon follows me.
“Wynn, when you first came to me to tell me Barker had disappeared, you said Barker had implicated herself in all of this when she talked to you. Why did you tell me that?”
“What do you mean?” I raise my head and look at him. I see confusion, but also compassion in his tired eyes.
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