Missing Since Monday

by Ann M. Martin

  Most people looked at me as if I were crazy and walked on, not even taking a flier. But some stopped, asked questions, and chatted. A lot of the ones who stopped were parents and grandparents with little kids in tow. Obviously they were worried about their own children. “Please keep your eyes open,” I said. “Eventually Courtenay will have to be taken to a doctor or walked through some public place or enrolled in school. She’s almost five.”

  “I surely will,” said one older woman. “And I’ll put your sister in my prayers.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  It was when I returned to David’s car to get more fliers that I first noticed the battered green station wagon. It was double-parked next to David’s car, the motor running, a driver at the wheel.

  The second time I noticed it was about twenty minutes later. I’d been working my way along the street when I turned around suddenly to pick up a handkerchief that a man had dropped when I’d handed him a flier. The car was behind me. Was it following me? The figure at the wheel ducked his (her?) head so that I couldn’t see the face.

  My palms began to sweat. I walked into a store. When I came out, the green car was still there. I ran for a block and glanced over my shoulder. The car was right behind me. I headed for a side street, then turned suddenly and dashed across the main street in front of the station wagon. I was going against the light, so the car had to brake suddenly. And as it did, I turned and faced the driver head-on. It was a woman, but that was all I could tell. She was wearing sunglasses, and the sun was reflected in the windshield. The woman stepped on the gas as soon as I was out of her path and zoomed through the intersection—but not before I noted the license plate. I committed it to memory for Lamberton and ran in search of David.

  14

  Going Nowhere Fast

  “DAVID!” I CALLED. I reached the other side of the street and tried to find David and keep an eye on the green car at the same time. But the car was soon out of sight. As I watched, it screeched to a halt at a red light, then turned and sped out of Hopewell.

  I looked up and down the street. “David!” I called again.

  At that moment he emerged from a coffee shop.

  “Hey!” he greeted me cheerfully. “I just ran out of posters. How are you doing?”

  “We have to get to the police! We have to find a phone!” I cried. “I was being followed. By a—a green car. It’s a clue to Courtenay. I know it. I got the license plate. I mean, I think I did. It’s C-N-O, six-six-one. Or was it six-one-one? No, it was definitely six-six-one. David, come on!”

  “Wait! Maggie! What are you talking about? A green car?”

  “It was following me. There was a lady inside.”

  “Are you sure it was following you?”

  “Positive.”

  “You think it has something to do with Courtenay? Couldn’t it just have been some kook? Maybe it was a guy. You know, some creepo who wanted you to get in the car with him or something.”

  “No, no! It was a woman. And Lamberton said that on the morning Courtie disappeared, someone spotted an old green Ford on the street outside her school. I’ve got to call Lamberton and see if the license plates match.”

  David’s eyes opened wide. “Maggie,” he said slowly. “Does this mean you’re in danger, too? Is this person after you now?”

  “Oh, my God! I don’t know. I was just thinking about how this would help us find Courtie.”

  “Come on. We’ve got to get you home before anything happens.”

  “No, I want to call Lamberton first! I want him to check the license plate right away.”

  David looked frantic. He looked as if he were literally being pulled in two different directions. “Okay, okay,” he said. “There’s a phone booth. Let’s go. I want to do this fast.”

  I’d never seen David so scared, which only made me more scared. He hustled me up the block, across a side street, and into the booth. Then he shoved the door closed and stood in front of it, trying to watch the sidewalk and the street at the same time.

  My fingers shook as I dropped a coin in the slot. I waited impatiently for someone to answer the phone.

  “Hello?” It was Leigh. Her expectant voice made me flinch guiltily.

  “Leigh, it’s me, Maggie. Is Lamberton there, please? I’ve got to talk to him.”

  “Honey, where are you? Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

  “Oh, Leigh.” Suddenly I almost wished she were there with me. “I saw a green car. It was following me. I was so scared. And someone saw a green Ford the day Courtie disappeared. Please. I have the license number for Lamberton.”

  “Okay, sweetheart,” said Leigh calmly. “It’s all right. Here he is.”

  But when Lamberton got on the phone, he said the last thing I wanted to hear. “The person who spotted the car gave us a very general description and didn’t get the license plate. If he had, we would already have traced it or tried to trace it.”

  “Didn’t get it?” I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice.

  “No, but that’s all right. We’ll check into the number you noted and see what’s what. Very likely it’s nothing at all.”

  “This car was old and beat up,” I persisted. “Is that what the other person said?”

  “Yes.”

  “And it was a Ford station wagon?”

  “Yes.”

  “It has to be the same car! Do you think they’re after me?”

  “It’s unlikely, Maggie, but why don’t you come on home now. Is anyone with you?”

  “Yes, David.”

  “Good. Try to calm down. We’ll see you in about twenty minutes, okay?”

  “Okay.” I hung up. “David, let’s go. Lamberton wants me home.”

  “Right.”

  We tore back to the car and jumped in. I’m not sure why we were so afraid, since the green car was out of sight. I think it was just that any little incident could make all our fears come pouring forth. It’s amazing how vulnerable we can feel.

  “Lock the doors,” David said urgently.

  I did so, and he floored the car. I mean floored it. We roared out of Hopewell at a speed that probably hadn’t ever been recorded there.

  “Watch out the back. Make sure we’re not being followed. I can’t watch and drive at the same time,” said David.

  I watched, but I didn’t see anything suspicious. Even so, neither of us began to breathe easier until we turned into my driveway.

  I ran inside with David close behind me and, much to my surprise, ran right into Leigh’s arms. If Dad had been there, I might have run to him, despite all our bad feelings, but he wasn’t home.

  “Leigh, that was so scary!” I cried. “What if they’re after me?”

  Leigh didn’t say a word. She just held me and patted my back.

  After several seconds I heard Lamberton say gently, “It won’t hurt you to be extra careful from now on, Maggie. Mike, too. I know this is a touchy subject with you, but if your mother is involved, it would make sense that she’d want to take you and Mike. You’re the ones she’s really after.”

  “That—that person in that car was not my mother,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “Maybe not,” replied Lamberton, “but she could have hired someone to abduct you. That’s not uncommon.”

  “My mother wouldn’t do that!”

  “Honey, calm down,” Leigh said soothingly. I was still clinging to her.

  I sighed and smiled at her shakily. Then I turned to Lamberton. Before I could utter another word, he said, “We already ran that license plate through our computers.”

  “You did?” I forgot to be angry with him.

  “It belongs to a car that’s leased through a rental agency.”

  “Someone paid to drive around in that wreck?” I exclaimed.

  Leigh and Lamberton smiled. “It was a cheap car rental agency,” Lamberton explained. “Very cheap. At any rate, the car was rented about two weeks ago to a Miss Jean Farmer of Lawrenceville. We ch
ecked the street address she gave. It doesn’t exist. And apparently she paid with cash, so there are no credit cards to check. There’s no way to trace her. Fake name, probably, and fake address.”

  “Are they sure it was a woman?” I asked. “Jean can be a man’s name.”

  “Probably not spelled that way, though,” said Lamberton. “And I’ll admit that the car rental agency is a bit of a dump, but someone there would have noticed if a man filled out the forms using a woman’s name.”

  I glanced at Leigh. “It’s just that I was thinking that Jack … Mr. Tierno … well, he lives in Lawrenceville and …”

  “True enough,” said Lamberton, “but he has an airtight alibi.”

  Leigh let out the breath she’d been holding. We were both glad Jack wasn’t in trouble, but my mother wasn’t off the hook yet. All our clues seemed to be leading us nowhere fast.

  I turned to David.

  “I better go,” he said. (I was about to ask him to stay.) “I don’t want to be in the way.”

  Leigh looked sort of relieved to hear this, so I decided not to push anything. All the excitement must have been making her nervous. And she was just beginning to get better. She was even dressed that day, and had eaten breakfast.

  “Okay,” I said to David. “Listen, would you mind tracking Mike down on your way home? He’s probably still at Paul’s, but he might be over at Andrew’s. He should come home so we can tell him about the car and warn him to be careful.”

  “No problem.”

  I walked David to the front door. He kissed me quickly, then pulled me to him and held me close for a long time. “Please be careful,” he whispered as we drew apart.

  “I will.”

  David turned and at that moment the front door burst open.

  I screamed.

  Lamberton and Leigh came running.

  “What is it?”

  “Hi! I’m h—” Mike started to say as he bolted inside. Andrew was behind him. They stopped short. “What’s wrong?”

  David, Leigh, Lamberton, and I all went limp, as if we were deflating balloons. “Nothing,” I answered. “We’re just a little jumpy. Listen, Mike, Detective Lamberton and I have to talk to you. Something happened this afternoon.”

  “Courtie?” he asked quickly.

  I shook my head. “No. No news, but we have to talk.”

  David stepped out the door. “Come on, Andrew. We’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  The boys left, and Mike followed me into the living room to hear about Miss Jean Farmer and the green car.

  15

  Caught!

  RING, RING.

  It was three o’clock on the Saturday after the green car episode. Lamberton had just shown up and was talking to Dad, Leigh, Mike, and me in the living room. He had no real news, though.

  The phone interrupted us. “I’ll get it,” I said, standing up. Don’t let it be Mrs. Simon, I prayed as I dashed into the kitchen. And please let it be David.

  “Hello?” I said.

  There was a pause. “Hi, baby. Are you there alone?”

  I froze. Then I waved frantically at Lamberton, who figured out what was going on and gestured to me to calm down and to keep talking. He dashed up to Leigh’s studio to make a call on her private line.

  I fingered the little device that was still attached to the phone, and tried to think of something to say to the caller. “I’m—I’m—” Would he want me to be alone or not? I took a chance. “Yes, I am alone … are you?”

  “I’m always alone, baby. Why don’t we get together?”

  “I … don’t have a car. What do you mean you’re always alone? Don’t you have any”—asking if he didn’t have any friends was sort of pathetic, and I didn’t want to make him mad—“a family? Or a job to go to?”

  “It doesn’t matter, baby. No one understands me. That’s why I’m always alone—in my head, you know? … So what are you wearing?”

  “Well, I’m wearing my jeans and a sweat shirt—”

  “The yellow-and-white one?”

  The yellow-and-white one? I was wearing my yellow-and-white sweat shirt. Could the caller see me? And if not, how did he know I had a yellow-and-white sweat shirt in the first place? My heart skipped several beats. Little drops of cold sweat formed on my upper lip.

  I tried to keep my voice from shaking, as I replied, “Yes, it’s the yellow-and-white one. And I have gold hoops in my ears, and barrettes in my hair.”

  “Very nice.”

  Mike, Dad, and Leigh were all watching me tensely.

  The voice spoke again. “If you’re alone, baby, I could come over to your house.”

  My mind was jumping around as if it were wired. “If you come over,” I finally said, “what, um, what do you want to do? We have a VCR—”

  “I know you do, baby.” He knows? “I just want to be with you, that’s all. What do you need that boyfriend for, anyway?”

  “Who, David?”

  “Yeah, him.”

  I swallowed hard. My fingers were gripping the phone so tightly that my knuckles had turned white. I laughed nervously. “Oh, he’s just a good friend, you know? We just hang around together.”

  “Well, I don’t like it. You stay away from him.”

  “Sure. Whatever you say.” I giggled.

  “It’s nothing to laugh at, baby.”

  “No. No, of course not,” I said quickly. At that moment, Lamberton returned to the kitchen, making a slashing motion at his throat to indicate that I could hang up.

  “Listen,” I told the caller, “I have to go. We’ll get together soon, I promise.” I hung up and sank into a chair.

  Lamberton looked grim, but he said, “Beautiful, Maggie. You did that perfectly … just right. We got it all—phone number, address. The caller doesn’t live too far away.”

  “I’m not surprised,” I managed to say. “He knows me.

  “What do you mean?” cried Leigh.

  “He knows we have a VCR. He knows I have this yellow-and-white sweat shirt. He even guessed that I was wearing it. … I thought maybe he could see me,” I said with a sob. “Oh, God. I’m so scared. There are people following me and people threatening me over the phone. They took my little sister. Why are they after me? No one’s safe anymore. No one’s safe.”

  With a single movement, Dad and Leigh came toward me, enfolding me in their arms. “I tried to protect Courtie,” I cried. “I tried to. And it didn’t work. I can’t even protect myself. It’s so unfair. If someone’s after you, they can get you, as long as they’re on the offensive and you’re on the defensive. They just need a little violence or some threats and that’s it.”

  “It makes you feel violated, doesn’t it?” Leigh murmured in my ear.

  “I guess so. It’s like they have some power over you. They can see you and they can reach right into your life and scare you or hurt you or … worse.”

  I sensed that the discussion wasn’t nearly over, but Lamberton cleared his throat and announced, “The call was coming from five-five-five-two-one-eight-three at Forty-six Rosedale Road. That’s not too far away, is it?”

  Mike, who by then was rummaging around in the refrigerator, dropped the platter holding the remains of Mrs. Simon’s brisket.

  And I shrieked.

  “What—” Lamberton started to ask.

  “That’s the de Christophers’ number.” Mike’s face was ashen. “Andrew?” he croaked.

  I shook my head. “Brad. The caller must be Brad.”

  I was right. The police went over to the de Christophers’ house that afternoon and arrested him. He was the only one home. I was glad of that, because it meant there was no chance of Andrew being a suspect. Brad was clearly the guilty party. Also, Jane and Andrew didn’t have to see their brother being arrested. Small blessings, I guess.

  Brad was taken to the police station, questioned, charged with harassment, and released on bail. The biggest mistake he had made in his phone calls was asking about Courtie, even if he had don
e it only once. It didn’t look great that he’d been hanging around our house the afternoon of the television interview, either, but that was explained away later. The important thing was that Brad had not taken Courtie. He had nothing to do with her. I was almost sorry. I wanted the kidnapper to be Brad, just to prove that my mother wasn’t guilty.

  “Brad used the oldest trick in the book,” Lamberton told us later as we gathered in the living room to hear his news.

  “The oldest trick?” I repeated.

  “He put a handkerchief over the phone when he spoke to you. Otherwise you’d have recognized his voice.”

  “But why? Why was he harassing me?”

  “He said he wanted you to be his girlfriend.” I shuddered. “He said he’s always liked you, and that when you started going out with David, he felt he had to do something to get your attention.”

  “Well, why didn’t he just call and say, ‘Hi. Maggie, this is Brad. Would you like to go out with me sometime?’ I’d never have gone out with him, but that seems to me to be the normal way to approach things.”

  “Maggie,” Mike spoke up, “you know he’s not normal.”

  I saw my father look at Mike sharply.

  “Well, he’s not,” said Mike, “and I’m glad somebody finally got to him. He’s had the rest of us trapped for years.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Leigh. “He’s so much older than you. I didn’t know you saw him that often.”

  Mike explained. I joined in. All the years of torturing and threatening and blackmail came pouring out. Dad and Leigh shook their heads.

  “What was he doing watching our house last week?” I asked Lamberton. “Was he curious about Courtie?”

  “Not really. He used the curiosity-seekers as an excuse to watch for you. He just wanted to see you, to see what you were doing.”

  “I wish he’d had to stay in jail. I’m afraid of him.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Lamberton. “His bail’s been paid. There’s no reason to keep him in jail.”