Out of Her Mind

by Ragan, T. R.

  “Smart.”

  Aria shut her laptop and said, “I had a chance to talk with Carly Butler’s mother, Gretchen, today. She was friendly, invited me inside the house, and even let me borrow Carly’s yearbook. But I’ve been dying to tell you that I saw a picture of Carly on the mantel above the fireplace, and I think the girls’ resemblance to one another is too striking to discount.”

  “Other than the fact that they’re all white and aged ten to twelve?”

  “Also blonde,” Aria said, “with the majority of them having light-colored eyes too.”

  “Riley Addison’s hair looks closer to light brown to me. And a couple of the other girls had darker hair.”

  “It’s more than just the hair,” Aria said. “It’s a particular look. Petite, small-boned girls with light eyes and light hair.” Aria put her laptop away, walked over to the dining room table, and brought back a twenty-four-by-thirty-six-inch poster board with pictures of all six missing girls. Six eight-by-ten pictures set up in two rows of three. Sawyer looked from one girl to the next. There did seem to be something there, and yet it still wasn’t even close to being the “proof” that Detective Perez wanted.

  “Impressive,” Sawyer said. “Talking to Carly Butler’s mom, the poster board, and finding all those yearbooks . . . Great work.”

  “Then why don’t you look happy?”

  “I guess Detective Perez got to me. I was hoping the police department or the Sacramento Independent would hire a forensic artist to do a rendering of the woman who tried to kidnap Paige, but I can’t get anyone to bite. Something needs to be done to get the public involved and get the tip lines ringing. If I could afford to have it done and then pay thousands to have her face put on the front page of the newspaper, I would do it, but it’s not my decision to make.”

  “Like you said the other day, we need to keep on trucking. I’ll stick with schools, and you work on bus routes.”

  “Any luck with finding Bob Upperman?”

  “Not yet.”

  Sawyer couldn’t pull her gaze away from the pictures. “These two,” she said, pointing at Carly and Riley, “could almost pass as twins.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Aria gestured at the poster board. “All these girls look like they could be sisters. Do you think there is a chance someone out there could be searching for a particular look?”

  “Anything’s possible,” Sawyer said. “If one person is responsible for all these girls disappearing, then he or she is not a kidnapper, but a killer.” Sawyer pointed at the photo of Cora. “She’s dead.” She then pointed at Paige Owens. “She escaped.” Next she pointed to Riley. “And this one, if she’s still alive, is running out of time.”

  Aria nodded her agreement.

  Sawyer picked up the envelope with the picture of Rebecca and the note and returned it to her purse. Out of the corner of her eye, Sawyer noticed Mr. Baguette shuffle his tiny feet as he ran from the kitchen to the mirror Aria had set up for him. The bird enjoyed singing to himself.

  “Ready to go?” Sawyer asked.

  Aria set about putting the bird in his cage, then grabbed her purse, along with her notebook and pen, and followed Sawyer out the door.

  A couple of reporters stood outside the Addison house. Sawyer ignored their questions as she and Aria walked the path leading to the front entry. The door opened as they approached. Introductions were made as Patrick Addison invited them inside his house. The man was five foot ten, stocky, with short, bristly red hair. His eyes were green like his daughter’s. He didn’t smile, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in months. As he led Sawyer and Aria past the kitchen to a family room with couches and a large flat-screen TV, she noticed floral arrangements and plates of cookies and cakes spread out on every available table.

  Music blared from a bedroom down the hall. A boy in his teens poked his head out and then disappeared again and shut his door. He looked a lot like Riley and his dad.

  Sawyer took a seat on the couch. Aria sat too.

  Patrick Addison sat in a green cotton fabric recliner with deep indentations and stuffing bursting at the seams. “I want to find my daughter,” he said flatly.

  Sawyer had to stop herself from saying she understood because she didn’t. If her niece ever went missing, she wasn’t sure she could handle such a thing.

  “Riley knew not to talk to strangers,” he said, his voice vibrating with anger. “My wife and I have been over it a million times.”

  “Over what?” Sawyer asked, daring to cut in.

  “Over dozens of scenarios of what she should do if she were ever approached. We work with criminals every day.”

  He was standing now, jabbing the air with his finger for emphasis. His face turned red and blotchy.

  “My wife and I both know what people like that are capable of! We know! She knows! Irrational behavior, unpredictable tempers, mental health issues. The list goes on. Riley hears about it every day!”

  Patrick Addison’s head fell forward, his upper body shaking. He was crying.

  Aria looked at Sawyer and gave her a what-do-we-do look. Sawyer shook her head subtly, letting her sister know it was best if they sat quietly and gave him a moment to regroup.

  Sawyer also found herself instantly drawn to this man. A father crying for his missing daughter. She simply couldn’t relate to the idea of a father caring so damn much. She thought of her brother-in-law. Nate would cry for Ella. She swallowed the lump lodged in her throat.

  Patrick Addison looked up, wiped his eyes with his forearm, and sat back down. “The cops aren’t looking in the right place.”

  Sawyer straightened. “Why do you say that?”

  “They arrested the wrong man. Mark Brennan is incapable of hurting a fly. I knew that even before I paid him a visit on the day Riley went missing. I was upset. I never would have let her take piano lessons in the man’s house if I didn’t trust him. My wife and I interviewed him before we ever let her step foot in that place. And you know what? Brennan stayed in his kitchen while I tromped through every room, searching every nook and cranny, rummaging through closets and drawers.” He exhaled. “It’s just something I had to do.”

  Sawyer nodded.

  “I checked his car too. But I already knew Brennan wasn’t responsible.”

  “I’m assuming you’ve told Detective Perez all this?”

  “I have. After he called to tell me they had arrested Brennan, I screamed at him, told him it was way too easy! I said if you’ve got your man, then show me my daughter. Where is she? I know monsters, and Brennan is not one. The police are eager to make this an open-and-shut case. Perez is most likely looking to be appointed chief of police. I will not stand for it. Put that in your damn story!”

  After he settled down, Sawyer asked him about Riley, about her favorite things, friends, and what kind of person she was.

  “She’s one of a kind. She loves people. Smart, like her mother. Loves all subjects at school, including math. Above all else, she’s kind.”

  Sawyer took it all in, noting how determined and strong he was, obviously driven to keep his daughter’s story alive despite Mark Brennan’s arrest. “Any other extracurricular activities besides piano lessons?” she asked.

  He clapped his hands together. “None. Riley plays the piano, reads, and studies. That’s her life in a nutshell.” He pointed a finger. “And her brother. She likes to tease her brother.” He shook his head. “I think maybe she decided to walk home and someone offered her a ride. I can’t get the image out of my head. Someone took her. I’ve talked to friends and family, even neighbors, asking if they saw Riley that day or talked to her on the phone. Riley knew better than to accept a ride from a stranger, but one second of bad judgment was all it took for her to take the bait.”

  Patrick Addison’s son strolled into the room. He was taller than his dad and had a mop of reddish-brown hair. He looked at his dad. “Are we going to go see Mom soon?”

  “Yeah,” Patrick Addison said. “We’re done here
.” He walked Sawyer and Aria to the door and said, “Help me keep my daughter in the news. Help me find her.”

  And then he shut the door.

  “Wow,” Aria said as they walked to Sawyer’s car parked on the street. “That was intense. I was speechless.”

  Once they were in the car, Sawyer said, “Riley was not in Mark Brennan’s house, so if he’d taken her somewhere in his car, the blood would have already been on the steps and gardenia bush.” Her jaw felt tight. “Perez knew that when I talked to him.”

  “Maybe Patrick Addison is right about Perez and his team looking for an easy arrest.”

  “I have no idea,” Sawyer said.

  Aria’s phone buzzed. She picked it up, listened to the caller, and then said, “Someone will be there within the next fifteen minutes.” She ended the call. “Shit.”

  “What is it?”

  “That was the nurse from Ella’s school. Ella’s not feeling well and needs to be picked up.” Aria looked at her Fitbit. “I have to be at work in thirty minutes.”

  “I can get her.”

  “Thank you,” Aria said.

  Sawyer drove up to her sister’s place five minutes later. Before Aria climbed out of the car, Sawyer asked, “When does Harper get home?”

  “I have no idea. Things have changed around here.”

  “How so?”

  “Harper is rarely home. And when she is, she’s always in a hurry and never has time to talk. And get this? She was wearing a turtleneck the other day.”

  Sawyer wrinkled her nose. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “She’s always complaining about the heat, and the temperature was in the mideighties. And then early this morning, I saw Nate toss two travel duffel bags into his truck and take off. Something’s going on, but I have no idea what.”

  Sawyer wondered if her niece and nephew knew what was going on. “How was Ella when you took her to school this morning? Did she seem upset?”

  Aria shook her head. “No. Ella was great, as always. Excited about school. Don’t you dare tell her I told you, but she likes a boy named George.”

  “Maybe that’s why she’s not feeling good,” Sawyer said. “I remember having a crush on a boy when I was her age. I couldn’t look at him without feeling sick to my stomach.”

  Aria smiled at her as she opened the door. “You better go before she runs off and elopes with George.”

  “Thanks again for all your help,” Sawyer said, impressed with all she’d done. Aria was a fast learner. She’d interviewed Carly’s mom, collected yearbooks, and made a poster board to show the missing girls’ resemblance.

  “You’re welcome. Once I have all the yearbooks gathered, we should set up a meeting with Paige Owens. Do you think her mother would allow her to meet with us?”

  “Not in a million years. But I’ll talk to Paige and see if she can meet us somewhere.”

  They said goodbye, and Sawyer drove off, thinking about Riley Addison. Without witnesses or tire tracks or fingerprints, there was little to work with. The blood found at Mark Brennan’s house was the only thing telling them that Riley had not vanished without a trace.

  So where was she?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Harper was reading Stephen King’s The Institute on her Kindle. She didn’t know how the author managed to suck her in, but he’d done it again. And she was thankful. It wasn’t easy, losing herself in a book when she could hear QB downstairs, pleading for his release.

  She hated that she actually felt sorry for him. After nearly choking her to death and then everything he’d done to Bug, he didn’t deserve her sympathy. If Cleo hadn’t shown up, she could have died.

  “Holy shit. Is that smell coming from QB’s cell?” Bug asked as she entered the empty house holding a bag from Taco Bell. The clack of her shoes echoed off the walls as she came forward.

  Harper shut her Kindle cover and slipped it into her backpack. “The smell is bad, but nothing is more annoying than his constant pleas for help. Come on,” Harper said as she got to her feet and reached into her bag for her Taser and pepper spray. “Let’s clean out his cell before I leave.”

  Bug headed for the stairs.

  Harper frowned. “What about your wig and mask?”

  “No need,” Bug said. “He’s already figured it out. He knows who I am.”

  “What the hell?”

  Bug turned around and walked back to where Harper stood and grabbed hold of her shoulders. “Once the asshole downstairs understands the frustration of having absolutely no control over what’s being done to him, I’m going to blindfold him and release him into the wild,” she said, her arms in the air, “where he won’t be found for days.”

  “You’re not making any sense,” Harper said as an unshakable sense of doom fell over her. “If he knows who you are, he’ll come after you. And finding you will lead to—”

  Bug cut her off midsentence. “By the time he finds his way out of the woods, I’ll have a new identity, and I’ll be long gone. I swear on my life that you and the rest of The Crew will be safe.”

  Harper’s stomach churned. She wanted to take hold of Bug’s shoulders and shake her. “How can you be so sure?”

  She sighed. “You’ll have to trust me.”

  “You can’t leave until we’ve finished what we all promised to do.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t leave until Cleo’s frat boys have been taken care of.”

  “What about the other men you were dead set on kidnapping along with QB?”

  “I’ve changed my mind. QB will be enough.”

  “What if he finds his way out of the woods before you escape?”

  “I’m going to drug him. He’ll be out for a very long time. You have to trust me.”

  Harper answered with a robotic nod, but she wasn’t sure what to think or what to do. Bug had gone completely rogue. Her insides wobbled like Jell-O as she followed Bug downstairs. Bug was smart, but not street smart. If Bug ever took off before finishing the deal they had made with one another, certain members would make her pay, and it wouldn’t be pretty.

  “Come on, Myles,” Bug said, banging both hands against the bars at the far left of the cell door. “You know the drill. Get over here so I can bind your wrists.”

  He did as she said. “When are you going to let me go?” he asked. “You’ve made your point. I’m a shitty guy who has done a lot of bad things, really horrible things.”

  “Go on,” Bug said, obviously enjoying what he had to say.

  “Not so tight,” he said when she yanked on the zip tie attaching his wrist to the bar.

  “Sorry,” Bug said with a roll of her eyes.

  Harper stood at attention with pepper spray and a Taser, ready to take him down if needed.

  “My arm is infected,” he complained. “That crazy bitch who bit me passed all her viruses and bacteria on to me. I need to see a doctor.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to kill my friend.”

  “I wasn’t going to hurt her. I just want out of here.”

  Once both wrists were bound, Bug unlocked the cell door and walked inside to collect the dirty buckets while Harper remained frozen in place.

  Awkward silence followed. Myles didn’t say a word until Bug returned with clean buckets, and then he started jabbering again. “A lot of people are looking for me.”

  “That’s not true,” Harper lied, unable to stop herself. “Your disappearance didn’t even make the news. People are too busy looking for an innocent young girl who’s gone missing. Nobody cares about you.”

  “I’m sure my brother is rallying the troops as we speak.”

  Harper laughed. “Your brother is glad you’re gone.” She had no idea if that were true or not. Although she had spotted QB’s brother on the news the other day when he awkwardly admitted to the press that he and Myles weren’t close, but he loved him and wanted him back home where he belonged.

  Myles looked at Bug. “I’ve had a lot of time to think,” he told
Bug as she placed the buckets on the floor in his cell. “I woke up last night, crying. And it wasn’t because I was cold and stuck in this shithole. I was crying because of all the suffering I’ve caused you and others. If you let me out of here, I promise never to touch another woman in my life.”

  He tried to look over his shoulder so he could fixate his sorry eyes on Bug, but she was directly behind him, and the restraints stopped him from being able to make eye contact.

  Bug walked out of the cell and shut the door with a clang. It took her a minute to wrap the heavy chain in place and close the padlock tight. She grabbed a pair of scissors they kept next to a plastic bag filled with zip ties, then walked back to where QB was tied up.

  As Bug set about cutting him loose, his eyes met Harper’s.

  The look on Myles Davenport’s face made it clear he wished he’d finished her off when he’d had the chance.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Sawyer found a parking spot near the front of the school and climbed out. As she reached the front office, she held the door open for a woman carrying a paper bag with the name MASON written on it in big black letters. The last time Sawyer had been to the school was to watch Ella sing in a Christmas concert. Poor Ella had inherited her voice from Harper’s side of the family and couldn’t carry a tune.

  The office was crowded, adults and kids coming and going.

  Sawyer stood behind two women waiting in line and thought about her conversation with Patrick Addison and what he’d said about Detective Perez. Although Sawyer didn’t know Perez well, she could easily imagine the detective discounting whatever Patrick Addison told him and putting it all down to high emotions.

  She then attempted to see it all through Perez’s eyes. Patrick Addison was going through an incredibly stressful situation. His wife was in the hospital, and his daughter was missing.

  And Detective Perez had his entire team to consider. Overworked and understaffed. For many police departments across the country, morale was low because they worked long hours with little pay. Maybe, she considered next, the most obvious answer was actually the correct answer. Detective Perez was probably under a lot of pressure to close the case, especially since they had evidence.