Kate folded her hands in and out of her lap nervously.
“We need to verify that you are Kate Plummer. We can do that with a DNA sample.”
“Oh, I see,” she replied even though didn’t really see. Kate was confused. She looked from one officer to the other, then down at the table, hesitated, then asked, “What if I’m not… Kate Plummer?”
“Well, then we’ll try and find out who you really are,” Sergeant Moeler said confidently.
Officer Rozutto sat in the chair across from the woman, his hands steepled just under his nose, thinking. Eventually he broke the silence that had become uncomfortable for Kate, and said, “Kate, this is going to be very hard for you, and I’m sorry for that, but do you remember how you came to live underground? Can you remember who took you there?”
Kate closed her eyes, flashes of memories played in her mind like a poorly-cut movie. Tears pushed on her closed eyelids. She felt as though she were betraying her mother by talking to them, but something in her mind told her that she had to tell. It was the right thing to do. She’d been taught not to lie, and even though her gut told her not to tell them the truth, she worried what God would think of her if she didn’t. She opened her eyes, took a deep breath, ignoring her own tears, and began telling them about how beautiful and kind her mother was, and of her childhood in the tunnels—playing hide-and-seek and listening to their echoes. Her memories of waking up scared at night, as a small girl, and how her mother would wrap her arms and legs around her from behind, and let her fall asleep like that, safely tucked within her confines, their hearts beating in rhythm.
Officer Rozutto asked her again what her mother’s name was, and she answered honestly, “I never knew her real name. She never told me, and I don’t think I ever asked. She was the little girl in the photograph that you took from our home. I called her mummy, like Tracey calls me.” The sound of Tracey’s name coming from her own lips sent a pain through her chest. She’d failed her mother. She’d failed Tracey.
Officer Rozutto gently persisted, “Do you remember how you came to live with her?”
Again she closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I know I was wearing the dress that Tracey wears to pray. I remember that flowered dress.” Kate’s face contorted, as if a painful memory were weaving its way through her mind. Sergeant Moeler and Officer Rozutto looked at each other.
“It’s okay, Kate. We can take a break if you need to,” Officer Rozutto said.
She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her cheeks flushed red. She stood. Sergeant Moeler and Officer Rozutto came quickly to their feet. She paced nervously. “I—” she said, then went silent. Officer Rozutto motioned for Sergeant Moeler to stay back, let her pace.
“I remember,” her words came out like broken glass, each one hard to piece together. She grabbed the sides of her head. Officer Rozutto came up behind her and guided her gently to the chair. She sat down, clasped her hands together in her lap and began rocking nervously. She didn’t look at Sergeant Moeler or Officer Rozutto. “I remember…I remember playing in the playground by the church. I was there with friends, and I remember trying so hard not to get my dress dirty,” she looked up with sad, red eyes. “I had gotten that dress specifically for that party,” a crooked, pained smile passed across her lips, then disappeared. She reached up and covered her face. “She came to the edge of the cornfield. She was hidden, and I could only see her face. I was so happy. She had played with me before, and I remember being so happy to see her that day.” Tears ran down her cheeks, but she didn’t feel saddened by the memory, just confused. “I walked over to her, in the cornfield, and she took me to the campsite. I remember her telling me that her mummy had died, and she really needed a friend, so I went with her.” She lowered her hands and raised her voice, “I went with her. I went.”
“And she took you underground that day?” Officer Rozutto asked.
Kate nodded, remembering. “She turned it into a game. She said it was her secret hideout, and that no one could find us there, that we could play forever, and I wouldn’t have to go to school or do anything I didn’t want to do. I remember it being…fun. Until I wanted to go home, then—” she turned away. She wiped her tears and looked down at her hands, ashamed that she had been a bother to Mummy, that she had cried and had to be put in the bad spot. She wondered what Sergeant Moeler and Officer Rozutto must think of her—that she had been a bad little girl, or selfish, or something even worse.
“Did you try to get away? Do you remember?” Sergeant Moeler asked forcefully.
She nodded, giving him an odd look, “I…I don’t remember wanting to get away from her,” she said protectively. “I just remember asking if I could go home.” She looked down again, her voice became faint, “But there was no going home. Mummy explained to me about the toxins, and how they get into your body when you live on the outside, how sometimes you don’t even know you’re sick until it is too late. She told me that was how her mummy died. She lived for about thirty years on the outside, and she was sick when they went underground, and became even sicker as time went on, but she did it to save Mummy…my mother. She didn’t want her to die, and she knew that she was sick a lot, and I guess it was from the toxins, because when Mummy died, she died just like her mother did, in the same way.” She was uncomfortable with their eyes trained on her, hanging onto her every word, disbelieving her, she could tell. “And she told me that I had to save a little girl, that it was my job, that God would be waiting for me to save someone, and if I didn’t, that He might do something awful to me.” She became angry again, “And now I’ve failed her.”
“Kate, I’m sorry you went through all that you did,” Officer Rozutto leaned across the table, “but do you understand that taking Tracey away from her parents was just as wrong as your mummy taking you away from your parents?”
Tears burned her eyes again, and she clenched them shut, speaking through clenched teeth, “But she saved me. What she did wasn’t wrong—and I saved Tracey. Maybe her parents don’t even know about the toxins, I don’t know.” She pulled back from the table, swiping at the hair that had fallen across her face. “I saved her!” she said fiercely.
Molly hung up the phone and flopped on the couch next to Cole. “It was Mike. He called to apologize, again, and then put Sal on. They think Tracey’s abductor is Kate Plummer.”
“Unbelievable,” Cole said, astonished.
“Sal said Tracey’s family is pressing charges,” Molly added, “but they’ll decide what they’re seeking for her—help or jail—after her identity is confirmed—or not.” Molly turned away, but Cole pulled her close.
“I know you’re thinking about Amanda and her family.”
Molly blinked away her tears. “She never had a chance, Cole. I wish I had done something, tried to stop that man. I wish I had screamed, called 9-1-1. Something! Anything!” she wiped her eyes. “But I didn’t, and I know I can’t change that. Amanda’s gone.”
Cole looked into her eyes, “But Tracey isn’t.”
Cole had been at the grocery store for over an hour and Molly had lain on the couch, resting, in his absence. She heard the front door open and lifted her body to an upright position, gathering her energy in order to appear a little less exhausted for Cole when he walked into the room. To her surprise, she saw Erik’s face instead. She jumped up, energized, and ran to him, throwing her arms around his body, “Erik!”
“Ma! I can’t breathe!” he said, laughing.
“How did you get here?” She was overcome with joy. She turned her smile to Cole who popped a grape into his mouth and shrugged.
“I know you, Mol. You needed to see him, to touch him.” Cole winked.
Erik grinned, digging into the grapes.
“You guys are so great!” she exclaimed. “How did you get here so fast?”
“I called last night and made flight arrangements. I was sure you figured it out the other night, when you came back from looking for the dogs? When you walked in and
I was on the cell phone speaking cryptically?”
Molly gave him a puzzled look.
“I had an airport taxi pick him up this morning and drive him to the Carters’. He’s been there for hours.”
“But I just spoke to him a few hours ago.”
Erik held up his cell phone. “That’s the great thing,” his dark eyes sparkled. “With a cell phone, you never really know where I am.” He put his arm around his mother and kissed the top of her head, very parentally.
Molly reached her arm around his back, which felt broader than it had when he’d left for school just weeks earlier. She had needed to see him, to touch him. She had missed his presence.
“Are you hungry? What do you want me to make you?” Molly slipped into mommy mode again so easily, like riding a bike.
“Naw, Dad and I ate a little while ago,” his voice was deep and thoughtful.
“Oh, gosh!” Molly said. “I almost forgot. I have to return a call to Pastor Lett. I’m so sorry! Give me just a quick minute, okay?” She saw a look of disbelief pass from father to son.
“Come on, buddy, let’s watch a movie. She’ll be at least that long,” Cole said.
Home is different now, Tracey wrote in her new journal. Everything felt different to her. The warm bubble bath had felt good; the clean clothes, her soft sheets, and her favorite toys comforted her, but she still felt funny. Her mother and father treated her too carefully, as if she could break. Tracey missed Mummy. She wanted to know where she was, if she was okay, and if she was worried about the toxins. She knew she wasn’t supposed to worry about Mummy—her parents told her that she was a bad person and that taking her had been wrong, but Tracey didn’t think she was all bad. After all, she really hadn’t hurt her—and the toxins! Tracey was so confused. She tried to explain to her mother and father about the toxins—how they killed Mummy’s mother and her grandmother—but they didn’t believe her. Tracey felt sure that they just didn’t know about the toxins. Her mother told her that what Mummy had said about the toxins was just a story that she’d made up to keep Tracey with her, but Tracey didn’t believe her mother. She really wanted to see Mummy, and she needed to learn the right way to talk to God, just in case.
Tracey’s mother told her that they’d have to see the police officers again sometime soon to answer their questions about where she had been kept and how she had gotten there. She said that they’d had loads of people looking for her and everything! Tracey wondered why all those people couldn’t find them; they always did in the police shows. She told her mother that Mummy had never hurt her, but she didn’t tell her about the bad spot. She didn’t want Mummy to get in trouble. When her parents asked her why she went with Mummy into the tunnels, Tracey couldn’t tell them. All she could remember was that she’d wanted her necklace. Her mother cried, then, and told Tracey that she needed to understand why she went and that she was sorry that she wasn’t a good mother. Tracey felt horrible! She told her mother that she was a good mother, and that even if she didn’t know about the toxins, that wasn’t really her fault, but her mother just threw her hands up in the air and walked over to Tracey’s father and cried. Tracey was trying so hard to be good that she couldn’t understand why her mother was so sad. Maybe she was worried about the toxins.
Emma had crawled into Tracey’s bed the night before. She came right in when she thought Tracey was asleep and curled up in front of her. Tracey didn’t mind. She had missed Emma a lot and grew sad when she’d heard her sniffling, like she was crying. Tracey had reached her arms around Emma and had held her like she was a giant doll. Then Tracey had cried, too.
She and Emma were playing now, but whenever Emma took one of Tracey’s toys, their mother yelled at Emma. Tracey didn’t need her mother to yell at her. She didn’t mind that Emma took her toys except for the dolly that Mummy had given her. That one was not for sharing. It was special.
Tracey wanted to see Molly again, too. Her mother told her that she could, as soon as the people with the big cameras left their front yard. Tracey peeked out of the curtains when her mother wasn’t looking—she didn’t understand why their house was suddenly so special, but she liked knowing it was on television, even if she wasn’t allowed to watch it. She wanted to go outside and let them take her picture, but her mother wouldn’t allow it. She called them sharks, but they didn’t look like sharks to Tracey.
Who knew this house could feel so warm? Pastor Lett thought to herself as she scrubbed the shelves in the library of the Perkinson House. It was just after four o’clock in the afternoon, and she, Hannah, and Newton had been cleaning the home for most of the day. They cleaned and dusted each room, polishing the floors and scrubbing away years of idle dirt. She was pleased to be making the home livable once again. Pastor Lett refrained from going into the upstairs bedroom, the images of Mrs. Perkinson and her daughter, coupled with her current anxiety, were just too much for her to fathom. Thank goodness for Hannah, who was more than happy to take over the cleaning of the bedrooms, and she had yet to mention seeing anything out of the ordinary. Newton had been busy repairing the outside of the house, rebuilding the steps, replacing rotten wood, and unsheathing the windows. Hannah had brought a few old throw rugs, and Newton and Betty had purchased several pieces of used furniture.
Pastor Lett was once again thankful for the loyalty of her friends. She knew she would not have been able to go through this coming out on her own. She stepped outside and the brisk afternoon air refreshed her. The gloom she had felt for so many years around the house began to lift, and it seemed that even the air itself had become lighter and less burdened. She walked off the wide porch and into the yard, astonished at how welcoming the house looked without the windows boarded up—or perhaps it was the relief of knowing the ominous lies that had been tied to the house were soon to be lifted.
Twenty Eight
Molly held Cole’s hand as he drove past the Boyds Presbyterian Church, following Pastor Lett’s car, on the way to visit Rodney. Molly looked beyond the church to the spider’s web of yellow police tape. A chill ran through her. Molly was thankful to Pastor Lett for allowing her to meet Rodney, at the same time, she felt apprehensive about visiting him. She was glad Cole was going with her. She glanced behind her at Erik who was busy texting in the back seat. After so many days of bedlam and confusion, she almost felt a sense of calm.
They drove up to the familiar Victorian home. The front porch had three colorful rocking chairs and a sign that read: Everyone Is A Friend, And All Friends Are Welcome. There were green pastures with outcroppings of rocks peppering the ground. An enormous willow reached its long slim branches over a running creek just to the right of the house, with an iron bench under the umbrella of its limbs. Molly was astonished that Newton and Betty had been able to successfully hide Rodney for all those years.
Rodney shuffled out of the front door and into the outstretched arms of Pastor Lett, her eyes aglow with love and delight, her quick pace one that Molly could not have envisioned had she not seen it with her own eyes. She was dwarfed by Rodney, who effortlessly wrapped his arms around his older sister’s body and spun in a circle, gleefully yelling, “Carla, come back! Carla, come back!”
Eventually, Rodney released her, and Pastor Lett landed with a thud. Rodney moved like an excited child, his hands wriggling at his sides, his feet marching quickly up and down. The jeans he wore were baggy at the knees and bunched around his ankles, as if he were wearing someone else’s clothes, though his shirt was tightly stretched across his enormous chest and fleshy stomach.
Pastor Lett put her arm around Rodney’s waist. Rodney’s eyes grew wide, spying Molly, and he pushed out of his sister’s grip and approached Molly with an enormous grin. In the flash of a second, he swooped her into his arms and lifted her off the ground, laughing, “Molly find girl!” His jubilant voice boomed, ricocheting off of the clouds.
Pastor Lett came to her rescue, pulling on Rodney’s arm, urging her release.
“Ma?” Erik yelled. Co
le looked at Pastor Lett expectantly.
Rodney continued to spin, and Molly thought she might be sick. “Rodney! Put Molly down!” Pastor Lett demanded.
Betty hurried to Molly’s aid, “Rodney Lett, you put that girl down right now,” her voice left no room for negotiation.
Rodney stopped, mid-spin, and lowered Molly toward the ground. She stumbled, dizzy, and lowered herself to the safety of the still ground beneath her. Rodney stooped next to her, his brown eyes open wide, concerned. Betty and Pastor Lett had their hands on Molly in seconds, insuring that she remain on the ground.
“Molly hurt?” Rodney asked nervously.
“I’m okay,” Molly said in a whisper. She eased herself up to her feet. Rodney rose to his feet and locked eyes with Molly’s.
“Rodney hurt you?” he asked sheepishly.
Molly reached out to Rodney and put her hand on his massive arm. “It’s okay, Rodney,” she said, forcing a smile. “It was fun. I’m okay.” She watched the smile spread across his face.
“Molly like it?” Rodney asked in his husky voice.
“Yes, Molly like it,” she nodded. She gave Pastor Lett and Betty a look that said she was alright.
“Erik?” Rodney asked simply.
Molly nodded toward her son. “Erik,” she confirmed, “and my husband, Cole.”
Betty was flawlessly efficient, serving turkey sandwiches and fruit and ensuring that everyone had a substantial amount of food, drinks, and properly-set silverware. She and Molly had a comfortable conversation about how long she’d been caring for Rodney, which, it turned out, she’d been secretly doing since two months after he’d been beaten. Their secluded property had provided the perfect cover. She was cheerful yet proper, sitting with knees bent and her legs crossed at the ankles and jumping up when Pastor Lett could not reach the salt, passing it to her promptly. It was evident that she was a natural caregiver and seemed to enjoy every aspect of it. Betty excused herself to get something from the kitchen, and Molly watched her hustle into the house.
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