Hush Little Girl

by Lisa Regan

  They lowered their weapons. Josie stepped back into the hallway and called out Emily’s name. Gretchen followed suit. No response.

  “Attic?” Gretchen asked.

  They searched the rooms upstairs until they found a small, pull-down door in the ceiling of Lorelei’s bedroom closet. Gretchen climbed up the rickety wooden steps until her head disappeared into darkness. “It’s just a crawl space. I don’t see anything.”

  Josie asked, “Do we need a flashlight?”

  Gretchen labored back down to the floor and pushed a hand through her hair. “No. Right at the top there’s a quarter-inch-thick coating of dust, undisturbed. No one’s been up there in a while.”

  “You heard the noise when we were on the steps, though, right?” Josie said.

  “Yeah,” said Gretchen.

  They’d checked every room, every closet, every place a human could possibly hide and found no one. Yet, Josie couldn’t shake the feeling they weren’t alone.

  Gretchen said, “They’re living out here in the middle of the woods. Could have been an animal on the roof or something?”

  Josie didn’t feel reassured but nodded in agreement. “Let’s see if there’s a basement. Then we’ll check the greenhouse.”

  Retracing their steps downstairs, they continued to call out for Emily, but still received no response. They found the basement door in the dining room, and cleared the musty space the same way as they had the rest of the house but found nothing other than a washer and dryer and a cabinet full of jarred food.

  Back in the living room, Gretchen wiped sweat from her brow. “Emily’s not here, boss.”

  “Neither is the gun,” Josie noted, feeling a tightness in her chest. “Which means that whoever shot Lorelei still has it and may have Emily as well.”

  They moved back outside and walked down the steps. The air felt good against Josie’s skin. “Let’s check the greenhouse.”

  Wordlessly, Gretchen followed Josie to the back of the house. An expansive back porch stood several feet above a fenced-in vegetable garden. The gate hung open. Josie lifted her weapon as she passed through it, her feet sinking into the soft dirt of the garden. Walking between two rows of fledgling plants, she headed toward the greenhouse with Gretchen in tow. Around them, the only noise they could hear was birdsong.

  “You smell that?” Gretchen said.

  “Fire,” replied Josie.

  The greenhouse door was closed but not locked. The smell of a recent fire stung Josie’s nostrils as she swung the door open and stepped inside. It was at least ten degrees warmer inside the structure. Two of the tables inside had been overturned, soil and seeds strewn everywhere. Josie and Gretchen picked their way through the detritus until they came to the far end of the greenhouse. Overhead, the roof vents were propped open. On the ground near the louvre vent were several large terracotta planters filled with ashes, small pieces of paper, and what looked like remnants of both a laptop and cell phone.

  Documents of some kind and Lorelei’s electronics, Josie guessed. What the hell was going on here?

  Gretchen said, “We have to go back to the road so we can signal the others. They’ll never find the driveway.”

  Josie said, “You go. I’ll stay here and call the Chief to let him know we need search teams. Let’s go back to the car and get your phone.”

  Gretchen shook her head. “Boss, I can’t leave you here alone.”

  “I can handle myself. The others should be here any second. You go flag them down.”

  With a sigh, Gretchen turned and trudged out of the greenhouse. Josie followed her until they reached her car. Gretchen climbed in behind the wheel. Fishing her phone from the console, she handed it to Josie. “Stay alert.”

  Josie nodded and watched Gretchen make a three-point turn before heading back to the road. Alone in the large clearing, Josie held the gun at her side with one hand and with the other, dialed Chief Chitwood’s number.

  “Palmer,” he answered brusquely. “I’ve got extra officers and ERT headed your way. Dr. Feist said she’d go with them too in case there’s a body. They should all be there now, actually. Where’s Quinn? Things here are getting a little tense. We’ve got a groom, over fifty confused guests, and no bride.”

  “It’s me, Chief,” Josie said.

  “Dammit, Quinn,” he responded. “I don’t think I’m going to like what you have to say.”

  “No,” Josie agreed. “You won’t. Not one bit.”

  Five

  Gretchen returned with three patrol vehicles in tow. Josie stationed one of the uniformed officers at the front of the house and one at the back to make sure that the scene inside the house and the greenhouse wouldn’t be disturbed. The other patrol officers were sent off to search the woods around the house for Emily or any sign of the killer. Josie itched to get out there and join the search but in her wedding dress, it wasn’t practical. Besides, Chief Chitwood had contacted the Alcott County Sheriff to ask for assistance from their K-9 unit, and Josie wanted to be there when the search and rescue dog arrived. Hummel was still busy at the Harper’s Peak scene, so he had dispatched Officer Chan and two other members of the ERT to process the Mitchell house. They arrived shortly after the patrol vehicles and got to work, followed five minutes later by Dr. Feist.

  As everyone set to work, Josie and Gretchen waited outside near Gretchen’s car. The clearing around Lorelei’s house was remarkably quiet. The only noises were the calls of birds flitting through the trees overhead and the light breeze drifting through the leaves. It was so peaceful here, so beautiful. Insulated. What the hell had happened? How had violence found Lorelei and her children? Why? What about the items burned in the greenhouse? Had Lorelei done it, or had her killer? What didn’t they want anyone to know?

  Gretchen said, “We need to ask for an Amber Alert for Emily.”

  “Yes,” Josie said. “Someone’s going to have to fill out the NCIC form and then we can call it in. I’ll call the station, see who’s at the front desk. I can guide them through it.”

  “We have no photos of this girl,” Gretchen remarked. “I didn’t see any in the house, did you?”

  Josie shook her head. “No, but Lorelei kept one in her truck. I’ll see if the ERT can find it when they process the truck. For now, let me call and get this process started.”

  Gretchen said, “I’ll ask one of them to come out and check inside the truck for the photo now.”

  Josie nodded and dialed the front desk at the Denton Police headquarters. Their normal desk sergeant, Dan Lamay was at Josie’s wedding, so another officer was filling in for him. Josie walked him through the process of inputting all of Emily’s known information into the National Crime Information Center database. Gretchen returned midway through to tell her that the ERT officer hadn’t found any photos in the truck. It was up to Josie to provide a description from having met the girl three months ago. She had to estimate the height and weight: roughly four feet tall, approximately fifty to fifty-five pounds. What she knew for sure was that Emily had straight, shoulder-length brown hair and hazel eyes. In fact, when they’d first met, Emily’s eyes had reminded Josie of Noah’s. She finished that call and then dialed the state police to finalize the process of getting the Amber Alert issued. Several minutes after hanging up, the cell phones of everyone on the scene began to buzz and chirp as the alert went out statewide.

  Josie felt only slightly better.

  Gretchen said, “Mett is still at Harper’s Peak handling statements from the staff, so I’ll be the lead here. What can you tell me about Lorelei Mitchell and her kids?”

  Josie shrugged. “Not much more than I already told you. I was only here for about two hours. My cell phone worked here, so I called Noah and Mett. Lorelei gave me coffee. The girls came into the kitchen from the garden. We all sat at the dining room table together. Lorelei had just made banana bread. The girls seemed excited to meet me.”

  Gretchen panned the area. “Being homeschooled out here? I guess they don’t
get too many visitors.”

  Josie remembered how young Emily had peppered her with questions and had even gone so far as to ask about Josie’s scar. A flush had crept up Lorelei’s face as she scolded Emily for being intrusive. Holly had simply laughed and put an arm across Emily’s shoulders. “I didn’t get to ask Lorelei many questions because I was talking with the girls,” said Josie.

  “What about their father?”

  “Lorelei said it was just them. None of them brought up the subject, and there didn’t seem to be any evidence of a male presence in the house.”

  Gretchen said, “This intense need for privacy makes me wonder if this was a domestic issue.”

  It hadn’t occurred to Josie back in January, but now she wondered if Lorelei had escaped from an abusive relationship and was hiding out here in the woods. If that was the case, the girls’ father would be their prime suspect in Holly and Lorelei’s murders and Emily’s disappearance.

  Gretchen said, “We’re going to have to find out who their father is when we get back to the station. Do you know what she did for a living?”

  Josie shook her head. “No, I don’t know anything about her beyond what I’ve told you.” In most murder investigations, they started with the victim’s inner circle and moved outward, but it appeared that Lorelei Mitchell had no inner circle. Again, Josie thought of domestic violence survivors. Often their abusers systematically isolated them from most or all of their family and friends. Is that what had happened here? By the time Lorelei escaped the relationship with her daughters, did they have no support network? How long had they been out here, Josie wondered? Who did they depend on or look to in emergencies?

  Josie mentally retraced their steps through the house earlier. There had been a stunning lack of personal effects. No photographs—or if there had been, they’d been taken and possibly destroyed in the greenhouse. Josie and Noah’s house was filled with photos of their loved ones. Their fridge was covered in drawings from Harris and Noah’s niece as well as invitations they received for birthday parties, weddings, barbecues, and all kinds of social events. Josie hadn’t seen any of that in the Mitchell household. She also hadn’t seen any filing cabinet or desk of any kind. Most people had something in place to hold their important documents like birth certificates, banking information, social security cards and such, even if it was just a box. Lorelei had probably hidden these types of personal effects. If the killer hadn’t taken them, they’d probably be able to find them. “When the ERT is done, we’ll see what kinds of personal effects and documents we can find,” Josie added.

  Officer Chan emerged from the house, clad in Tyvek from head to toe and carrying evidence bags. She deposited them into her vehicle and picked up a camera and sketch pad. “I’m going to start in the greenhouse now,” she told them. “The house will be done soon and you two can have a look around if you’d like.”

  Josie and Gretchen nodded and watched her walk off. Josie had no idea how much time had passed, but the sun had dropped lower in the sky. She probably should have been walking down the aisle by now, or maybe she and Noah would have already been wed. She nudged Gretchen in the ribs. “Can I use your phone to call Noah?”

  “Of course.”

  Josie found Noah in Gretchen’s contact list and hit the call icon. He answered after four rings. “Gretchen? What’s going on?”

  “It’s me,” Josie said.

  “Josie,” he said. “I heard about Lorelei. I’m so sorry. They just took Holly Mitchell to the morgue. Any word on Emily?”

  “Not yet,” she said. “The Sheriff is sending a K-9 unit. How are things there?”

  Noah laughed. “All of our guests are still here but getting very restless. Celeste is furious, as is Tom, but Adam is being very accommodating. He had already started the food for the reception. He suggested just having the reception since everyone is already here. Let the band play, feed everyone, and we can reschedule our actual wedding to another time.”

  “That sounds good,” Josie said. She looked down at her feet. Her pantyhose were dark with grime and dirt. A few pieces of grass clung to her ankles. The bottom of her dress was now stained brown as well. “Noah, I’m sorry.”

  “Josie,” he said. “A child was murdered at our wedding venue. Her mother was killed as well, and now her younger sister is missing. Do you think I want to get married like this?”

  “No,” Josie said. “I know you don’t. I just needed to hear it.”

  “I love you,” he said. “Call me after the K-9 unit does their search.”

  Josie felt hot, uncharacteristic tears sting the backs of her eyes as she handed the phone back to Gretchen. She couldn’t even identify the emotions threatening to overwhelm her or separate them from one another. Devastation at the fate of Lorelei and her daughters. Worry for Emily Mitchell. Sadness that her wedding was off for the moment. Gratitude that her would-be husband was on exactly the same page as her about the day. She felt overwhelmed by her love for him.

  “You’re lucky,” Gretchen said. “Noah’s a good person.”

  Unable to speak without letting loose her tears, Josie nodded.

  “So you get married on a different day. It’s not the end of the world.”

  Before Josie could respond, Dr. Feist appeared on the front porch. She walked down the steps and over to her small pickup truck where she began peeling off her crime scene garb. Her skin was paler than usual, and her hair was in disarray from the skull cap. Beneath the Tyvek suit, her pink dress was rumpled. Josie and Gretchen hurried over to her.

  “My guess is the cause of death was exsanguination.”

  Gretchen said, “She bled out from the gunshot wounds.”

  Dr. Feist nodded. “But she had a pretty good head injury as well.”

  Josie thought of the blood and hair on the corner of the kitchen island.

  Gretchen said, “Any idea on the time of death?”

  “She’s in full rigor, just like Holly Mitchell. I can’t really pinpoint it without getting her on the table.”

  Josie thought of the spilled cereal in the dining area. “Is it possible they were both killed this morning?”

  “Absolutely,” Dr. Feist said. “I’ll know more once I do the autopsy. I’ll perform Holly’s first, then Lorelei’s.” She looked directly at Josie. “I assume you’re not getting married today.”

  “No, not today. We’ll reschedule.”

  Dr. Feist shook her head sadly. “Destination wedding. Seriously. Think about it. I’m going to go home to change into some scrubs, and then I’ll head over to the morgue. I’ll let you know if I see anything that might help you find whoever did this.”

  “Thank you,” Josie said.

  They watched Dr. Feist pull away, then waited some more. The other ERT officers finished processing the inside of the house and moved to the greenhouse to help Chan. An ambulance carried Lorelei’s body away. Gretchen’s phone chirped intermittently with texts from Mettner, who was still interviewing staff members at Harper’s Peak. Finally, they heard the sound of another vehicle bouncing along the drive. An Alcott County Sheriff’s SUV came into view. Josie immediately recognized Deputy Maureen Sandoval. They’d worked together before. Sandoval smiled as she stepped out of the vehicle. Crow’s feet crinkled at the corners of her eyes. Josie estimated her to be in her mid-fifties. She wore boots, khaki pants, and a navy polo shirt with the sheriff’s insignia on it. Her gray-brown hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail.

  Looking both Josie and Gretchen up and down, Sandoval said, “Don’t think I’ve ever seen a bride and her bridesmaid at a crime scene before. This is a first.”

  Gretchen managed a smile. “Yeah, it’s a first for us, too.”

  From the back of the SUV, they heard a bark. Josie said, “Have you got Rini with you?”

  “Sure do, and she’s ready to work.” Sandoval walked slowly to the back of the SUV and popped the hatch, revealing a large dog cage. Inside, Rini, a four-year-old German Shepherd, sat up straight. Her tong
ue lolled. Eager, soulful brown eyes looked from Sandoval to Josie and Gretchen and then back. “Just a minute, girl,” said Sandoval, turning to Josie and Gretchen. “What’ve you got?”

  Josie brought her up to speed.

  “I’m gonna need something with Emily’s scent on it. Maybe something she wore? That would probably be easiest since you’ve got access to the house.”

  “I’ll look,” said Gretchen.

  While Gretchen went into the house to find an item for Rini to scent, Sandoval took the dog from the truck and hooked a leash to her collar. “Down,” she commanded and Rini, with a slight whine, lay on the grass, waiting for further instructions.

  Gretchen returned with a crumpled pink T-shirt. “This was in the hamper on what we believe is Emily’s side of the room.” She held it up, and Josie could see that it was definitely Emily’s size. Too small for Holly.

  “That’ll do,” said Sandoval. She gave Rini a command that brought her to standing and guided her over so that she could sniff the shirt in Gretchen’s hand. As Rini’s nose pressed into the fabric, Sandoval slipped a harness onto the dog, all the while murmuring that Rini was a good girl. Then, once Sandoval was satisfied that Rini had gotten the scent, she said, “Now it’s time to work, Rini.”

  The dog took off in the direction of the truck, her nose alternating between the ground and the air just above her head. She circled the truck twice, jumped at the passenger’s side door twice, and gave up, heading around toward the back of the house. Josie and Gretchen followed. Rini worked the perimeter of the garden, then slipped through the garden gate. She went up to the greenhouse doors but then turned and headed back toward the house. She loped up the steps to the back porch. The patrol officer there looked to Josie and Gretchen for permission to let her continue her search.

  “It’s okay,” Josie said.

  With a nod, he let Rini and Sandoval into the house. Josie and Gretchen followed. By the time they reached the kitchen, they could hear Rini’s paws pounding up the stairs. Avoiding Lorelei’s blood on one side of the island countertop and broken glass on the other in their stockinged feet, they, too, went upstairs. They had just reached the top of the steps when they heard Rini barking.