Frog

by Stephen Dixon

  Howard makes calls to everyone he knows in the area whose number he remembers. Help look for Olivia. Go to the lake. Search with the troopers and firemen in the woods. Tell as many people as you can to help. Don’t give up till it’s declared hopeless. Tells Denise to look up the numbers of other people they know in the area and say the same things. “Also ask if they know a Lita. I forgot about that. And call the police every so often just to make sure they haven’t been trying to get through to us and to keep after them. But make all your calls quick so the lines aren’t tied up. Of course, you know that,” and runs out of the house, drives around the area, asks everyone he speaks to at the various drive-ins and shops, after he’s told them about Olivia and given her description, if they know or ever heard of a young woman named Lita. Nobody has. Goes to the post office, tells his story to the postmistress and asks if she knows of a woman named Lita. She doesn’t but she calls several post offices in surrounding towns and none of the other postmasters have received mail for her. “Maybe that’s her nickname,” she says.

  Goes to the lake. Lots of cars and people, couple of fire trucks. He speaks to the police chief he spoke to on the phone. “No trace of her so far. We ordered some hounds and a helicopter in. When it gets dark we’ll try best as we can with searchlights and bullhorns, but I think by nine or ten we’ll have covered every foot of these woods. That woman Lita was still here. She’s in her car. It’s not the Opel. Hers was parked along the main road and she said she walked in, so we let her go out and bring it to the lot. Your Opel wasn’t here when we got here, so it could have been anyone’s—another visitor, but in his own private spot—and not seeing any commotion yet, just drove away. We put a call out on it with the plate number you gave. That Miss Reinekin—” “That’s it, that’s the name.” “Well, she said you attacked her real bad, and showed the bruises to prove it, and that she had nothing to do either with the girl or provoking you to threatening her life. That it’s all in your head, she said, which is why she stayed—to tell us. Or that you did something previously to the girl and are trying to put the blame on her. Because you came to the lake alone, swam alone and when you came out of the water you went straight up to her and asked where’s your daughter. She’s from near Hartford, only here for a long weekend. Friends she’s staying with are with her now. They’re very respectable summer people, been coming up for years and before then the parents and grandparents of the man, and they say the woman’s as truthful and right-minded as anyone they know. That she comes from a good family, well brought up and educated, never hurt anyone, and is a teacher engaged to a governor’s assistant; the woman friend’s known her since childhood. Just hearing all this and talking to Miss Reinekin, she doesn’t seem like a child molester or kidnapper, but that’s not for me to judge.” “Let me speak to her.” “If you don’t mind someone taking down what you two say; and also no rough stuff from you, words or force.” “Take down anything, and don’t worry.”

  They go to the woman’s car. She’s in the back seat sitting between a man and woman, has a sweater on now, pants, glasses. “This is the man—” “She didn’t wear glasses before,” Howard says. “She only uses them for distance,” the man says. “Let her speak. Can’t she speak? Why isn’t she speaking?” “She can speak but I chose then to speak for her. She’s emotionally shaken. That rock over her head didn’t help any.” “I didn’t hit her with it.” “Held it over. Three inches away, if not two.” “And strangling her,” his wife says. “Strangling her, and nearly breaking her arm. She doesn’t have to answer any more of your asinine charges or be talked threateningly to. She can even be demanding you be locked up and then suing you if she wants.” “Gentlemen, let me continue,” the chief says. “For the record, Miss Reinekin, this is the man you said accused you of doing something terrible to his daughter and then—” “If I hurt her, who wouldn’t for his daughter? She’s lucky I didn’t do worse.” “Anyway, I had nothing to do with it,” she says. “But if this girl truly is missing—” “She’s missing,” the chief says. “We spoke to his wife. There’s an older daughter, same description and age he gave, who’s not home or anywhere to be seen. The whole county’s out looking for her by now.” “Then I’m sorry. It has to be the worst possible thing for the mother. But I’ve told everything I know of it. And Mr. Kaden here—he’s not a lawyer but he knows something about it—has advised me not to talk about it further except in front of a lawyer. But a girl’s missing, we all pray she’s safe—” “Oh shit, just listen to her,” Howard says, “—and I’ll answer any more questions you have if it’ll help find her. First, yes, he is the man who did all the things I said he did. I still don’t know why. We hadn’t said a word or even looked at the same time to one another till he came out of the water, though I did notice him go in and then swimming. Mostly the crawl but occasionally the breaststroke and once the butterfly stroke—” “I did no such stroke. I don’t know how.” “Well, it looked like the butterfly stroke by someone not that good at it, all that splashing and arm-flopping. But after he came out—” “He accused you and grabbed your arm and so on?” the chief says. Nods. “Nothing new to add?” Shakes her head. “Then you ought to go home, rest—we have your statement and now your identification of Mr. Tetch—and well go on with our search as though the girl were lost in the woods and no doubt contact you later.” “You going to let her go just like that?” “It’s been more than ‘just that,’ Mr. Tetch.” “And I didn’t say Olivia was lost in the woods. I said it’s one of the main possibilities. I don’t know where she is. She can be in that freaking water. She can be under a rock or down a well. This one knows though.” “You said I may go, officer? It’s been, as you can see, too much of an afternoon for me and I don’t want to say now what I really think about him.” “Do you have any evidence for what you don’t want to say?” the chief says. “I definitely suggest you don’t say anything, Lita,” Kaden says. “If there’s an inquest or trial or anything like that—” “You fucking liars, with your inquests and trials,” Howard says. “You fucking murderer and kidnapper,” he says to her. “Or you’re all murderers or kidnappers. Now where is she already? Where the goddamn fuck is she?” and tries opening the door, Kaden pulls it shut and locks it while his wife rolls up the window and Lita screams and covers her eyes. Howard bangs on the window, is led away by the chief and made to sit on the grass.

  Lita drives off with Mrs. Kaden, Kaden drives behind them in Lita’s car. Mazda, NXH 107, dark red, Connecticut. Search goes on for hours. He calls Denise every half hour from a police car. Last call she says friends have come and gone and been very kind but she needs to be with him. He’s given his and Olivia’s beach things and goes home. She puts some dinner on the table for him, weeps, checks the baby, weeps, says she has to control herself so she can think straight while there’s still a chance Olivia can be found, says she doesn’t understand any of it. “Now go over it, once more, maybe there’s something we missed.” He goes over it thoroughly. She says “How can anything like this happen to her?” “Nothing has—I’m sure she’s alive and we’ll find her—but how can anyone do anything like that to her? How come they don’t press that woman more? How can her friends protect her like that when they must know she’s lying? The police should give her a lie detector test. They should have done it immediately. Or get a hypnotist to work on her—drugs, even, to draw out the truth—if she’s crazy or has a mental or physical disorder where she can’t remember things and one of those means would get her to say where Olivia is or what she did with her. What about where she’s staying? Maybe the Kadens are involved. Some kind of satanic cult or just selling beautiful children or a ring for whatever kind of devious or moneymaking purpose—but in a basement there or some place. Am I thinking straight or is all this part of my own growing craziness?” He says no, it’s valid, “We have to try everything that’s reasonable or possible,” calls the police station, hoping it would relay the call to the chief’s car, is told to call him at home. “The search has bee
n called off, the chief says. “We’ll resume it early tomorrow if you want.” “I want.” “Not even the dogs could turn up anything. They smelled blood but nothing human. They started digging up the ruins of an old cabin. That cabin must be three hundred years old. Nobody even knew an earlier settlement had been there—” “I’m not interested. Listen, my wife and I think you should give Miss Reinekin a lie detector test, and immediately. Or just get a hypnotist to hypnotize the truth out of her, or some serums or drugs to do it.” “No can do. She’s got to be suspected of a crime first and then agree to the test or drugs or hypnotism, and she’s not.” “Then what do you say to going to the Kadens’ house where she’s at? Anybody think of that? Olivia could be there. A satanic cult, let’s say. Maybe they sell babies or slightly older children or are into all sorts of ugly things. The respectability and old-family stuff and all that lawyer-knowledge and holier-than-thou protest shit could be some kind of cover—some ruse.” “Again, it wouldn’t be a bad idea if anyone in the state or county police departments believed that, but we don’t. The Kadens would have to be suspects too and they’re anything but that. We put out queries on them and Miss Reinekin and they’re as clean as they come. Try to listen to me now, Mr. Tetch—don’t make trouble. We know how you both feel and our hearts go out to you as if she were our own child, but you don’t want to be jailed at a time when your wife and other girl need you so much. A state’s attorney and detectives will be out to see you tomorrow morning. Please be there. Then if you want to come where we’ll be searching, you’ll be more than welcome.” “I’ve complete confidence in all your and your people’s abilities, so of course I’ll do what you say.”

  He looks up the Kaden address, tells Denise to take a couple of aspirins and maybe some port and try to get some sleep. “I know what I’m doing, honestly,” when she says what he’s doing probably isn’t such a good idea, and drives to the road the Kadens’ driveway leads to, parks, walks in a few hundred feet, ample moonlight, looks around, no outbuildings about, down to the beach, boathouse with a kayak and canoe, sailboat anchored in the water, different colored sail than one he saw in the lake, wades out to it and looks inside, back up the path, looks through all the first-floor windows, sees them sitting beside a fireplace in the only lighted room in the house, Kaden reading a magazine and drinking wine or something pale in a wine glass, two women talking, fireplace going. Knocks on the door. Kaden comes to it. “You.” “Listen, you’ve got to believe me, I’m not nuts. I had my daughter. I went for a swim. I left her with your friend. She’s lying about everything. My wife and I are desperate. Right now she’s going crazy from it. I’m about to too. You know what it means to lose a child like this? It’s the worst feeling in the world. There is no other. Maybe if she got hit and killed by a car right in front of me. That’s what it’s like. Or the doctor’s just told me she has cancer and only a month to live. If you have kids—” “Excuse me, but if you don’t leave our property—and I mean right up to the public road—this minute, I’m phoning the police.” “Hell with the police. Olivia might be here. There might even be a chance you don’t know about it. Now you have to—” but he can see by his face he won’t, so he pushes past him and goes inside. Kaden grabs his arm. He throws him against a wall, puts his fist under Kaden’s nose and says “I’m only going to look around for my daughter. Don’t stop me or 111 bust you, I’ll even break you in two,” and shoves him out the door, kicks but misses him, slams and latches the door, runs through the first floor turning on lights and opening doors looking for the basement, finds it, from another room the women are screaming for him to go. “Scream your bloody heads off; I’m looking, I’m looking.” Goes downstairs, yells “Olivia, are you down here? Are you anywhere around here, Olivia?” Turns over boxes, looks behind a huge wine rack and stacks of newspapers and magazines, only door is to a toilet, nothing else to hide someone in or behind, nothing he can see to show anything strange going on. Runs upstairs; nobody’s around. Runs through the first floor opening cupboards and a bathroom and closet doors. Runs upstairs to the guest bedroom, hallway bathroom, master bedroom, unused bedroom, kids’ bedroom where when he turns the lights on two boys in double-decker bunks and the women start screaming. Checks every room and closet for an attic entrance. Guest bedroom a third time. Dresser and night table drawers for anything that might lead to something, woman’s valise and handbag and under the bed and once more the shower stall. Goes downstairs. “Yes, this moment, walking right past me,” Kaden says on the hallway phone. “Maybe he’s now going to make good on his threat to bust me in two. Well, let him, since I’m not about to fight back. That’s not what I do, and you’re my aural witness on that, Chief Pollard… Now he’s leaving the house. Good riddance I want to say to him … No, the children and women all seem to be OK—Sure you’re all right, boys? Doris?” he yells upstairs. “We’re fine, Daddy,” a boy says. “Is he gone?” his wife says.

  He starts up the driveway. “You should wait for them here,” Kaden says from the porch. “Or they’ll meet you at your place, Pollard told me to tell you. But they’re on their way. You’ve got a number of serious complaints against you, sir. You’d better get yourself a good lawyer—one who’ll be able to get you off with only a few years, for you can be certain I’ll see that you’re charged with everything that can be thrown at you. For slander, trespassing, verbal intimidation, assaulting Miss Reinekin, barging into a private home and tossing the occupants around like an ape. Whatever you’ve gone through and are going through, you can’t do these things to people because of it. You have—it gives you—no moral license to, do you understand that, sir? No, you wouldn’t.”

  Drives home, Pollard’s waiting for him there, is arrested, taken to the police station, jailed overnight, state’s attorney and detectives question him the next day, released on is own recognizance, search continues, he drinks himself to sleep every night, Denise is on medication for a while, search is ended, woman’s exonerated, he’s indicted for the disappearance of Olivia, Kaden never presses charges, Miss Reinekin drops hers, he asks for a lie detector test and passes it unqualifiedly, he asks to be hypnotized by a court-appointed hypnotist and is told his story didn’t change one iota from the one he told before being hypnotized, state drops its case against him: no body or witnesses or evidence of any wrongdoing beyond parental neglect no matter how hard they looked, though the state’s attorney feels sure, he tells reporters, that Howard’s guilty of some heinous crime against his daughter which they’ll find out about in time and charge him with and send him to prison or even execute him for. Denise doesn’t know what to think through all this. She doesn’t believe the woman was involved in Olivia’s disappearance, but how couldn’t she be if Howard says she was? That’s not saying she thinks he had anything to do with it, she says, other than being irresponsible in leaving Olivia with a stranger, but how couldn’t he have anything to do with it if the woman didn’t? Did he lose Olivia someplace, she says once—“Quick, answer me now, no time to think of one, no or yes?” “No, absolutely not.” Maybe, she says, both he and the woman are responsible in a way she hasn’t figured out yet. “Are you lovers, and an accident happened with Olivia and you’re covering up for each other in some way where you both assumed you’d get off?” “What am I supposed to answer to that?” “Of course; that was ridiculous of me, but I simply don’t know what to think. I’m not afraid of you for Eva, but I’m also not entirely comfortable with you for her and myself. I’m just confused.” Goes on like that. She won’t make love with him anymore, the few times he’s felt like it since Olivia disappeared, and then she won’t sleep in the same bed and then the same room with him. Then she brings Olivia’s bed into Eva’s room and sleeps there. She puts it all down as just part of her continuing grief and confusion.

  Fall’s come, it’s cold, cottage isn’t insulated, everyone they know has left, she wants to return to their apartment in the city, he wants her to stay with him here but in a heated house. “Maybe Olivia will turn up som
ehow. At the very least, if we’re here and badgering the police, they’ll continue looking for her more than they would if we weren’t here, or at least not give up looking for her completely or investigating what might have happened that day. Maybe, while Miss Reinekin wasn’t looking, someone came and snatched Olivia away—possibly one of the persons or a group of them sunbathing on the grass that day; or even the sailor of the sailboat I saw when I swam in the lake—and will want to turn himself in for whatever reason and also give up Olivia. Or Olivia could escape from her kidnapper—a door left unlocked a first time and she just walks out or something. I’ve read about such things—sometimes happening weeks later, sometimes years. That wouldn’t explain why Miss Reinekin insists I was never at the lake with Olivia. Maybe she was threatened by this person or group not to say anything about the kidnapping or they’ll kill her and maybe kill Olivia also, and that’s why she’s been lying all this time. Maybe Olivia was taken away at gunpoint. Lots of maybes, maybe one of then on target, or one future one. But I can’t leave feeling Olivia might still be around here or in an area near here and that I might, by just sticking and looking around, think of or do something to get her back.”