The Day I Lost You: A totally gripping psychological thriller

by Alex Sinclair

  Without another word, Camille walks off toward the elevator, leaving me speechless.

  Eight

  Camille is gone, having dropped the confusing piece of information that Alan is not really the head of the neighborhood watch but is instead a compulsive liar and possibly helping his felon neighbor to hide his past. What have I done? We shouldn’t have split up. I shouldn’t have trusted that old man so quickly. I always do this. I always believe people. What kind of danger have I put Alice in? And what about this criminal living on the seventh floor?

  I need to get to a phone as soon as possible and call the police. I stumble toward the next apartment on the top floor.

  I bang on the door of 1403 several times, my fist thumping loudly and rapidly. I realize after a moment that no one would be expecting a knock on their door. They would have someone call them on the intercom first. The only people with this kind of access would be the maintenance team or Henry. Even if anyone is home, they’ll look at me through the peephole and decide against opening up to the crazed woman interrupting their Sunday. What was I thinking? I need to keep moving, but I have one other idea left.

  Desperate, I call out to whoever might be home. “Hello? I need to use your phone. My daughter has gone missing in your building. She’s only four years old. Please help me. I need to call the police.”

  I keep knocking. No one makes a sound. Are they home? Are they pretending to be out to avoid me? It doesn’t matter. I give up and head for the stairwell again.

  I need to go back down to the lobby and see if Alan is there with Alice. All I can hope is that Camille was either lying to me or that she has been misinformed. I am so wired up with thoughts of Alan and the criminal he lives next to that the only way I will silence the voice in my head is by rushing back to the lobby. I don’t have time to check each floor for Alice. He might have her.

  I push through the stairwell door and charge down the first flight of stairs. If Alan isn’t the head of the neighborhood watch, then why did he tell me he was? What kind of person lies like that? I feel sure I’ve led Alice into the hands of a dangerous man, like the gullible idiot that I am.

  I stumble down one step, but regain my footing, breaking the thoughts rattling around inside. Alan wouldn’t harm Alice, right? He didn’t seem the type. Then again, most criminals don’t look like criminals, do they?

  I catch sight of my face reflected in a big, blurry metal sign that shows the fire exits on each floor’s landing. I can still see how much of a disgrace I am, but I keep moving, taking the steps two at a time. The level numbers whiz by in a countdown as I spiral toward the lobby.

  I don’t know what I will say to Alan. Should I just come out and tell him that I know the truth? That I know about the lies, and the criminal he’s helped to hide? Or do I play along and see what he’s really up to? But what if that’s not the truth? Either way, it doesn’t help me to find Alice. She’s the only one I truly care about in this mess. If I see her there in the lobby, I’ll scoop her up and leave without another word. I don’t need to get involved in any drama going on in this building. If she’s not there, I’ll use Henry’s phone at the front desk and call the police. Too much time has been wasted.

  A thought grabs me and slows me down: Alan used to be the head of maintenance here. Could he have tampered with the elevator to make it stop on a floor with only a few occupants? A level he lives on with a criminal? What possible reason would he have to do that?

  I shake off my paranoid thinking and reconcile the two facts as coincidental. An old man like that would have no business taking a little girl. I know there are some freaks out there in this dark world of ours, but Alan isn’t one of them. I try to convince myself of this. Surely my assessment of him wasn’t so far off base that he could be a child abductor? Maybe Camille was messing with me. She did just spew out a lot of gossip to a complete stranger. How often were such dark rumors ever true?

  I reach the lobby and throw myself out into it. I stare around the empty floor only to find Henry standing at the reception desk alone. I feel my chest tighten as I rush out into the open space. Where is Alan? He should be here by now. Did I go right by him when he was checking a floor on his way down? Where the hell is Alice?

  I rush toward Henry, knowing I need him to call the police. Do I tell him about Alan or keep my fears to myself? Alan was all too keen to get involved in my problem, considering we don’t know each other apart from the possibility of passing each other by in the corridors of this building several years ago. The only thing keeping my head on straight is a single question: why? Why would anyone in this place want to take Alice from me?

  “Miss Rice? Did you find your daughter?” Henry asks as he sees me. He gives me a professional face full of concern. I rush toward him and plant two hands flat on the counter. I’m out of breath.

  “What is it?” he asks me.

  Nine

  I stare Henry in the eyes. “I need you to call the police, right now.”

  “The police? Are you sure about that?”

  “Yes,” I blurt out. “Please call them now. I want Alice found.”

  Henry nods sharply as he lifts the phone to his ear and dials the police. I stand back and feel a wave of heat attach itself to my skull. The reality of Alice being abducted beats me in the face like a crowbar. I’ve let this happen on my watch. My only child may be in the worst danger of her life and it’s all my fault. My lungs begin to suck in air via short, rapid breaths as my chest continues to tighten.

  “I’m on hold for the moment. There’s some sort of automated message about a delay.”

  “A delay?”

  “I’m not sure what it means, but you should take a second to calm down. You look as white as a ghost. Why don’t you splash some water in your face in the restroom while I wait to get through?”

  “Okay, fine, I will,” I say, “but you need to get through to the police as soon as possible.”

  Henry nods at me. “I’m connecting now. Yes, I need the police. A child has gone missing at Stonework Village.” I listen as Henry continues to describe the situation in full. He relays to me that the police will send a few officers to the scene as soon as they can. He places the phone down and lets out a long breath.

  Henry scratches his head for a moment and faces me. “Miss Rice, I seriously think you should go to the restroom and freshen up. You’ll feel better for it. Trust me.”

  “Okay,” I say, both hands raised. He won’t let up until I do what he wants me to. It’s not the worst idea in the world, either, so I turn and walk toward the restroom. I glance back to reception and see that Henry is watching me. He gives me a quick smile for reassurance, which I cannot return.

  I pull open the door that leads to the male and female restrooms. No one is around. Inside the female restroom, I find the nearest stall. Once I make it in and take a seat, I close my eyes and remember to breathe. How did this day take such a dive?

  The headache I came here with has tripled in size. Everything that has been forced upon me today has only amplified its power. How could I have let any of this happen to Alice? I should have taken the stairs when she asked. I should have been more organized and not worried about some silly doll in the first place. I failed her.

  I push up to my feet before fatigue claims me. I don’t want to go back out there and face the world when I could stay in here and continue to criticize my actions. But I have to move. I have to keep trying. There will be time to blame myself for everything once Alice is found. For now, though, I have to keep fighting for her. No one else will.

  I go to the sink and run the tap, dully staring at my reflection in the mirror. Two flat eyebrows cut across my forehead in straight lines. I look broken. Shattered by the fact that my little girl is out there alone.

  I think about the felon on the seventh floor. I should have asked gossiping Camille what crime the man had committed that had landed him behind bars. If he was trying to hide it from the world, how severe a violation was he put aw
ay for?

  Without knowing what wrong the man had committed, I can only imagine something awful in my head. I try to forget the terrible possibilities and concern myself instead with why Alan would help out an ex-con like that as willingly as he would help a semi-stranger like me to find my missing child. He was the only one to volunteer earlier, while the rest of the people in the lobby preferred to watch the drama unfold.

  I leave the restroom and walk back to the door that opens out into the lobby. I open the door slightly to see Henry sitting down and on the phone again. Is he checking in with the police? Had he forgotten to mention something before?

  “The situation is under control,” he says quietly into the receiver, glancing around the lobby. Henry pauses for a few moments, then nods. “Yes, she’s in the restroom now. I’ll make sure she doesn’t bother anyone.”

  I don’t move a muscle as I listen to Henry’s conversation. Who is he talking to? His boss? It must be. I suppose he had to report the police call up the chain to avoid any problems. I don’t know if I should feel offended or not that he ushered me off to the restroom so he could complain about me to his superior.

  Not wanting to let Henry know that I was eavesdropping, I close the door as quietly as possible and wait a few moments before I loudly open it again. Henry swivels in his chair and stands, placing the phone down a moment later.

  “Did that help?” he asks me.

  “A little,” I say, as I watch him shift uncomfortably. “Do you know how long it will be before the police arrive?”

  “Not exactly. I’m sorry. They sounded frantic, but I’m sure someone will be here soon.”

  He isn’t sure? What did he mean by them being frantic? I try to show him I understand as my chest begins to squeeze inward. Air struggles to make its way into my lungs while a tightness grabs hold of my shoulders. Before I know it, I’m stumbling back and tripping over my own feet.

  “Are you okay?” Henry asks. The possibility of a lawsuit must be ever present in his mind.

  “Alice?” I whisper. “Bunny? Where are you? Come to Mommy.” I feel the power drain from my legs as they buckle. Two arms wrap themselves under my armpits and lift me off my feet. I am guided behind the reception desk to a chair on wheels. Henry offers me a drink of water from a bottle that he has tucked behind the counter. I take it with shaky hands and spill some liquid down my throat. What just happened to me?

  “Are you okay?” he asks me, over and over. All I can do is stare. I’m beyond useless. Alice would be better off without me.

  “Miss Rice? Are you okay? Please, talk to me.”

  “I’m okay,” I mutter. “I’m okay. Just get the police here to find Alice. They have to find her.”

  Henry nods at me. “Okay. They’ll be here soon, I promise you.” He would agree to anything at this moment to keep me calm. I can see it in his eyes.

  “Thank you,” I say. I think about Alan and try not to assume the worst. Maybe he is just taking his time to reach the lobby. Maybe the felon on seven is just a man trying to start over. Perhaps Camille is just a gossip. Alice is simply missing, having gone on an adventure on her own. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s run off on me. The thought brings me to a state of relative calm after a few moments. It doesn’t last.

  “Henry?” I ask.

  “Yes,” he says, his eyes locked on to mine, as if my every word is of the utmost importance.

  “What do you know about Alan? And what do you know about the criminal who lives on the seventh floor?”

  Henry steps back a pace. “Criminal on the seventh floor? What are you talking about?”

  “Never mind,” I say, absorbing his reaction. What was I thinking? I came close to accusing a sweet old man of child abduction. I was about to claim that he conspired with some former criminal on the seventh floor to take Alice away from me. How would he have known I was even coming here today with her? No one did.

  Henry looks me up and down with a raised brow, cutting through my thoughts. “I figured Alice would have been found by now, but I’m sure she’ll turn up soon. Kids have a tendency to run off when they shouldn’t, don’t they?”

  I frown at him. I know he is just trying to reassure me everything is okay, but I don’t want to hear it right now. I want to find Alice.

  “Miss Rice?” Henry asks.

  “Sorry?” I say.

  “No, don’t worry.”

  I wave him off and try to regain some strength. I look up and see he has something he wants to ask me. It’s itching to come out.

  “What is it?”

  Henry loses his confidence for a moment as he struggles to speak. “I wanted to talk to you about Alan.”

  My heart skips a beat. Is there something Henry knows about Alan? “What about him?”

  “Well, the thing is, he isn’t answering his cell. I was wondering if you knew why. I know he was helping you to search for your daughter. Did he go back to his apartment? I’ve tried calling him a few times now.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you. He’s somewhere up there, looking for Alice.” The voice in my head still questions his motivations. Alan’s face swirls around in my head. Did Alan know I was coming here? Was his volunteering all part of the act to abduct Alice? He sent me off in the wrong direction, only to disappear. The idea sounds more and more insane every time I think about it. I have to stop thinking this way. The only way to stop my brain from running around in circles is to go back up and find Alice.

  “I need to go.” I jump to my feet and walk away from Henry to the stairwell, dropping his bottled water in the process.

  I decide it’s time to search the seventh floor without any outside influence. I’ll search the rest once I’ve made certain Alice isn’t up there. She is probably just missing and nothing more. There’s no reason that Alan or some criminal would take her.

  I try to push the worrisome ideas out of my head. All I can hope is that Alice has ended up in one of the apartments up there and is waiting for her mother to find her and take her away. Otherwise, I’m going to have to come to terms with a suspicion that has been itching in my brain for the past few minutes. I can’t bring myself to think it, but it comes out on its own.

  What if Alan and this criminal really have taken her?

  Ten

  Then

  My pregnancy failed to improve. After the three-month mark, my morning sickness had gotten worse. It should have eased up a little by then. The stress of it was beginning to take its toll on my body.

  I was also starting to show, to the point where I could no longer hide the fact if I wanted to. Instead of covering up, I embraced my bump. I was proud of the little bundle of joy that was growing inside me. Proud and scared at the same time. I couldn’t wait to meet the tiny person who would, in my mind, look like a perfect balance between Michael and me. But I also stayed awake at night, fearing how I would get through labor when the time came.

  We had no idea of the sex then, and had to wait another month to find out. I secretly wished for a girl, while Michael was confident it would be a boy. He spoke about his son all the time, as if there were no possibility the baby would be a girl. Either way, I didn’t care. I just wanted a healthy child to hold in my arms and love forever.

  I was at home, having quit my job as Michael suggested. I felt uncomfortable doing it, but I guessed he was right. I was taking on a lot of stress without meaning to, which would only serve to harm the baby. I couldn’t explain why, but I was constantly on edge about the whole pregnancy. I seemed to be my own worst enemy when it came to being nervous about a situation.

  Resting on the two-seater in our old apartment in Brooklyn, I was constantly thinking about the big move we had planned. It was another thing in my life that filled me with dread, and which I couldn’t avoid. Our current one-bedroom place suited our former child-free lifestyle, but with the little one on the way, we needed more space to live.

  Michael was commuting to his new firm each day for over thirty minutes, while I staye
d in the cramped apartment. There wasn’t much to do in the small space, so I usually went out whenever I could, despite Michael wanting me to stay home as much as possible and rest. Being stuck in the apartment was its own kind of stress, which could only be fixed by escaping to the world outside.

  One day, I was researching nearby schools and daycare options for when we moved to the new place in Brooklyn Heights as we’d discussed. I was also hoping to get back to the workforce when the baby was old enough—not for the money, but to show Michael I could contribute. I couldn’t be unemployed like this forever. It wasn’t in me to show our child that only Daddy worked while Mommy stayed home.

  We’d found several apartments in the area that suited our new budget and lifestyle. I had my eyes set on a few brownstones that were child-friendly while capturing that old-style charm of the city. The neighborhood was the perfect place to raise a family.

  Michael had talked about moving to the Upper West Side one day, but I doubted his firm was suddenly going to give him some big promotion after such a short time. I waved off the idea every time it came out of his mouth. Anyway, I didn’t want to be part of the wealthy elite, with our own private driver. I just wanted a place that felt like home.

  I grew up out in the suburbs of Rhode Island. I would do anything to take our baby to live in that carefree region, but Michael loved the city too much to move another inch in the wrong direction. I shouldn’t have been surprised by his desire to reach the pinnacle of New York living. He’d grown up in the Bronx and only ever imagined himself working his way out of the area and into Manhattan. I tried to tell him he didn’t have to work so hard to impress me, but he wouldn’t listen. What I really wanted was for him to spend more time at home, with me and the baby.