And Then She Was Gone

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And Then She Was Gone Page 20

by Noonan, Rosalind


  “Where is she now? Lauren asked. “I mean, if he didn’t bring her back to the compound, where did he take her?”

  “That we don’t know. But we’re working on finding her. We’re interviewing Kevin Hawkins’s family and connections, following every lead. I can only promise that my department will stay on this twenty-four seven until we find her.”

  “Oh.” The little cry escaped Lauren’s throat as her gaze swept over the lake’s surface—water all around them, dark and deep beneath the silver surface—and it all seemed so vast and hopeless. The world, the “out there” that Kevin had warned about, was closing in around her, and somewhere in the process, it had swallowed up her little girl.

  “Lauren? Honey, this is good news.” Paula’s hands were on her shoulders, warm and consoling, but not enough of a tether to safety.

  “She’s out there . . . all alone.” Her mouth puckered as tears stung her eyes. “She must be so scared and lonely. I know how that feels, and I’ve got to find her.” She turned to Paula. “We’ve got to find her.”

  “We will,” Paula said.

  As the police chief described the plan, his words shrank away, so small that Lauren couldn’t catch them. She shivered, suddenly cold. The sun had shifted, putting them in shadow, turning the lake water to gray ink. Only a small patch of sunlight remained, glinting against a window in a cottage on the other side of the lake.

  A distant light—that was Mac. Lauren knew she had to catch that light before it faded, but she didn’t know how to do it. She sobbed, staring at the glimmer across the lake until her tears made it all a blur.

  Chapter 36

  A low-profile search.

  Rachel understood the need to keep the investigation a secret; if Mac was living in the area, they didn’t want to tip off her adoptive parents that the search was on. That was the logic; in practice, it felt like they were sitting on their hands, waiting, wishing, and fooling themselves that a positive turn of events was just around the corner.

  Darkness fell over their small group as Doug O’Neil inched the boat under the low, narrow bridge. The inlets leading from East Bay to the main lake were narrow and tight in spots, but Dan’s father managed the straits with the ease and precision of a man who’d been boating on Mirror Lake for thirty years.

  While the boat was still drifting at low speed, Sierra popped out of her seat in the back and moved forward to sit by Lauren and Rachel in the front of the boat.

  That left Dan alone in the rear. “What?” He lifted his arms and pretended to sniff one armpit. “I showered this morning.”

  His mother swiveled her captain’s chair back toward him. “That’s what happens with teenagers. They don’t want to be seen with you for a few years.”

  “Why don’t you come up here, Dad?” Lauren called.

  Had she said Dad or Dan? Rachel looked at her husband, but was unable to read the expression beneath his sunglasses. It had sounded like Dad. Another inch of progress. Although Lauren was understandably tense and anxious about her daughter, she maintained a kind, polite attitude toward the family. Rachel had to give her credit; if she were in Lauren’s shoes, she would be on the verge of a major meltdown.

  After Dan moved forward, his father put on his captain’s hat with a grin. “Everybody in a good spot?” His bushy gray brows twitched up. “Okay, gang. Hold on to your hats and I’ll get you there in one piece.”

  The boat sped up, sending jets of water spraying back on both sides. The girls shrieked in delight as they soared around the island and proceeded across the main lake. On an ordinary summer day, the family might go tubing or swimming or out for lunch along the downtown strip. But today, their destination was Phantom’s Bluff, where Dan’s father had reported seeing a little girl who “looked just like Lauren when she was a kid.”

  Ever since Hank had pressed Hawkins at the Oregon State Penitentiary, “little Mac” had been a flame of hope dancing in every heart. Rachel knew she wasn’t alone in her desperation to recover the little girl; still, she had to fight every day to keep the mission from becoming an obsession. Divide and conquer—that was what she did best. It was hard not to make the search her own, but she was working hard not to be the controlling “boss of everyone,” hated by her daughters and avoided by the police. Rachel was trying hard to be a team player.

  These days, she and Paula worked well together, and Lauren seemed a little more open to her ideas when it came to finding Mac. But often Lauren seemed more lost than ever, overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness as she thought of the difficulties they faced in finding her little girl. Rachel desperately wanted to break through. If only she could get Lauren to see that she understood the torture of worrying about a missing child. As the boat shot over a swell, Rachel pulled back her wind-tossed hair and rethought that. It really didn’t matter so much that they commiserate together. None of that would matter if Lauren got her daughter back. That was the true goal.

  Now that the search was on, their days often ended with a small gathering at the lake house, with Hank stopping by to give them the latest. It was hard to focus on anything else with the prospect of Mac out there—another child who needed to be rescued. But as Wynonna insisted, the therapy had to go on. Lauren needed to relearn the world and define herself; it would make her a better mother when Mac was finally located.

  After maneuvers that included bumping over a few wakes, spraying the passengers, and turning in a wide circle, Doug cut back the engine and grinned. “Nobody overboard? That’s always good. But the evening is still young.”

  The girls exchanged a wide-eyed look and Sierra giggled.

  “So let’s see.” Dan stared at the coastline. “We just passed Half-Moon Bay. See that house with the curved roof that looks like a Safeway? That’s my landmark for Crescent Bay.” He pointed out a few other landmarks as they chugged along. Lauren had never been out on the lake, and Sierra had never taken notice of the lake houses. A stone-covered mansion, complete with turrets and towers, had been dubbed the Castle. A small contemporary home that seemed to be built into the hillside was known as Hobbit Town. There was the Tudor, the Japanese Garden, the Resort, and the Beach House, complete with its own shoreline of trucked-in sand. “And this half bay here is known as Phantom’s Bluff.”

  “Where did you see her, Dad?” Rachel asked.

  “Over to the left. See that paved patio that leads out to the dock?”

  Everyone looked over to a lounge area with a small building that probably contained a bathroom. A bright red umbrella sat open, as if someone had been hanging out recently.

  “Do the people live in that little building?” Sierra asked.

  “That’s just a pool house,” Dan explained. “See the two-seat contraption a few steps up the hill? It looks like a double swing? It’s a lift, sort of like a ski lift. Takes people up and down the hill so they don’t have to climb that path with all the switchbacks.”

  It was one of those lots built on a cliff. Mirror Lake had quite a few of them. A hundred feet above the shore, the houses featured magnificent views of the lake, the trees, and the sky. The only drawback was getting down to the lake. Even with switchbacks evening out the trail, it was a steep climb.

  “Have you ever ridden on one of those lifts, Grandma?” Sierra asked.

  “A few times,” Doug’s wife, Alice, said. “We used to have friends in a cliff house. The view was nice, but they didn’t really use the lake much. Just too much work to get down here.”

  “You can’t even see a house up there,” Lauren said.

  “It’s hidden in the trees, but it’s there.” Dan rubbed his chin, looking up. “I think that’s the cathedral house.”

  Rachel nodded. The dark, gothic house set back from the road had lots of stained glass, gargoyles, and a spire visible from South Shore Drive.

  “That’s right.” Dan’s mother narrowed her eyes. “I’ve heard the place is stunning and brutally cold. My friend Haddie always jokes that it’s occupied by some ex-nuns.”
/>   “Do you know who really lives there, Grandma?” Sierra asked. “Maybe we can knock on their door.”

  “Nope. I’ve never even seen a car turn into the drive.”

  “But there are signs of life down here.” Doug tipped back his hat and stood up to lean over the boat’s windshield. “Too damned bad they’re not here right now. I’m telling you, I’ve seen the lady and the little girl down here the last three times I took the boat out.” He turned to Lauren, apologetic. “Sorry, but when I heard about Mac, well, I just wanted you to see this little girl.”

  “It was worth coming out, Dad,” Rachel said. “And that’s what we have to do right now. Everyone keep your eyes open, check out every lead.”

  “We can come out another time,” Doug said, squinting over toward the empty terrace. “First time I laid eyes on that little girl, I swore I saw a family resemblance right away. It was you as a toddler, Lauren.”

  “Did she have blond hair that curled around at the end?” Lauren asked hopefully.

  “She did.”

  “And chubby little cheeks?”

  “Like a chipmunk. The girl’s as cute as a button. Seemed to be around three or four now.”

  “Mac turns four September first.” It sounded so hopeful, the way Lauren said it. It made the little girl seem so real.

  “I still think we should knock on their door,” Sierra said. “Or tell Chief Todd. He’ll make the police storm their house.”

  “The cops try not to barge into homes without a warrant,” Dan said. “Remember that historic document called the Constitution?”

  Lauren looked from Dan to Sierra, watching curiously.

  “I never liked history,” Sierra said.

  “Well, I’m sorry we didn’t get to see your little friend,” Alice teased her husband. “But we’re going to keep praying for her, praying to find her.”

  Praying for a miracle, Rachel thought, as everyone took their seats for the return trip. Praying for a second miracle.

  The next day she met Lauren at the ranch for another back-riding session. This would be the first time Lauren would ride without her cast. She had been to the orthopedist, and since the X-rays had shown the bone healed, the orange cast had been removed. Checking her messages on her phone, Rachel hung back by the door of the stables while Lauren and Jazz saddled up the horse.

  As she brought the saddle blanket over to Yoda, Lauren moved without a trace of a limp. In her matched pair of cowboy boots, she looked trim and healthy and confident—so different from the girl who had been rescued a month ago.

  “Do you need help with the saddle?” Lauren called to Jazz.

  “I got it.” His voice was slightly strained from the weight as he hoisted it from the fence. Lauren moved beside him to help lift it high enough to sit on Yoda’s back. “Thanks.” He shifted the saddle, making sure it was secure, while Lauren went to stroke the horse’s neck.

  “Pretty soon, I’m going to be riding you on my own,” she told Yoda.

  The horse gave a gentle snort, as if answering her.

  Lauren leaned into him. “Oh, Yoda. Mac would really love you.”

  Jazz pulled the saddle strap tight under the horse’s belly. “That would be so cool to have Mac here. We used to do riding classes for little kids, but now Mom focuses on veterans mostly. Sometimes the little kids get scared by the horses.”

  “Mac was fearless. She wasn’t scared of bugs or animals. Sometimes when I was working in the garden, she would sit and watch ants crawl in a line, doing their thing. But with Yoda, I think I’d be the one a little scared, seeing her on top of a tall horse like him.”

  It was such a maternal reaction; this was something Rachel understood.

  “I guess she could start with Penny,” he said.

  “I guess so.” Lauren took her helmet from the post. “Of course, she would have to wear one of these.”

  “Yup.” He wrapped his hand around the saddle horn and tested it. “How’s all that going? I mean, I know it’s a secret and all, and maybe I shouldn’t butt in.”

  “That’s okay. It’s all up to the police to find her. I’m supposed to just keep doing my therapy, which would be fine, except I can’t stop thinking about her. I wish I could go looking for her.”

  “You want me to take you some time? Mom would let us use the Jeep. Where would you look for her?”

  Lauren tugged the riding helmet on her head. “That’s the problem. I don’t have a clue.”

  That day, Lauren’s body offered no resistance as they rode along the ridge. Girl, woman, and horse were like one big muscle, flexing and releasing as Yoda followed the path between green fields and tall fir trees.

  “You’ve really learned how to sit a horse,” Rachel said. “Look at you. Cast gone and you’re gripping Yoda’s sides like a pro.”

  “Therapy at the ranch is the highlight of my day.”

  Because of the horses? Rachel wondered. Or because of a certain boy?

  “I hope Wynonna will let me ride on my own soon.”

  “I’m sure she will. Although that will be bittersweet. I’ll miss this.”

  “Me too.”

  The words were a sunrise, a slow dawn in Rachel’s heart. Wynonna had been right; the blame was lifting.

  “I heard you talking to Jazz,” Rachel said before she lost her nerve. “I’m not supposed to be pushy, and if I’m over the line, just tell me to back off. But I want you to know, I’ll take you out looking for Mac. I’ll take you to the ends of the earth, if that’s where the trail leads.” She wanted to tell Lauren that she understood her desperation; she knew the feeling of violation—the sting of someone having stolen your soul.

  But she couldn’t push. And Lauren’s pain may have been different from her own. It might seem selfish to assume she understood what her daughter was going through.

  “I don’t know.” Lauren paused; silence yawned. “Where would we even look?”

  Rachel let out the breath she’d been unconscious of holding. “We could start with Kevin’s girlfriend . . . the young woman you met? And her sister, who works at the adoption agency. And Kevin’s Aunt Vera.”

  “Didn’t the police talk to them?”

  “Yes, but they may be willing to tell you things they wouldn’t mention to the police.”

  “But won’t Hank get mad?”

  “Learning about Kevin is part of your therapy. And you’re supposed to be doing more outings, interacting with the public. It makes sense to me.”

  “Okay.” Lauren’s voice sounded small, but decisive. “I have to learn something from my therapy. Wynonna says I have to accept help from people I trust. Let’s try that—the girlfriend. Do you know how to find her?”

  Rachel felt herself misting over behind her daughter’s back. “I can figure it out. I’ll track her down.”

  “And Mom?”

  The word Mom seemed to echo through the fields and trees.

  “I think it’s time for me to move home.”

  Home. Rachel breathed in traces of summer grass and horse and shampoo and hope.

  Hope came along in surprising ways.

  Chapter 37

  Sierra could not believe that Lauren was really home.

  After almost a month of keeping her distance from the family, Lauren had packed her new clothes in shopping bags and transferred them to her old room upstairs. Dad had said he wanted to bring Lauren home with a minimum of hoopla, and since the local media had agreed not to publish or air photos of Lauren or Sierra because they were both under eighteen and Lauren was a sex crime victim, their dad sort of got his wish. The day Lauren came home, Dad did a press conference with Chief Todd and some dude from social services—a balding guy with a stringy ponytail in the back. Turned out he was Paula’s boss, Truman. Anyway, they did the press conference at the police station—a diversionary tactic to draw the media away from the house while Lauren pulled into the Wildwood Lane driveway in Paula’s car. That had been an awesome trick. It had reminded Sierra of some strok
e of sabotage by one of the competitors on Project Runway.

  Mom had hung a giant yellow ribbon around the tree out front, and Sierra used butcher paper to make the banner taped to the stairs that said: WELCOME HOME, LAUREN! Her name was surrounded by tiny foil heart stickers, which Sierra added on at the last minute because the bubble letters took her so long to color in.

  And one of the weirdest things had happened when Sierra was wildly trying to finish the poster and make it look good. Mom had come in and picked up a crayon and helped. Okay, that wasn’t so weird. But then Mom had started opening up. She told Sierra she was sorry.

  Mom had actually apologized for focusing so much attention on Lauren. “Not just recently, I mean in the last six years . . . since she went missing. You know I love you, honey. I admire your adaptability and grace. Who else could excel at soccer and piano?”

  Sierra kept her head down, her eyes on the poster so Mom couldn’t see the raw emotion in her face. Had Mom really noticed her all these years? Yes, her mother had never missed a big soccer game or a piano recital. But much of the time Mom had been there in body only. Her mind was usually on other things: her new batch of students, the next rally to find Lauren, the broken vacuum, or the seminar on missing children.

  Although Sierra wanted to brush the topic aside, she couldn’t resist a jab. “You know, Mom, I used to think you love Lauren more.”

  “What?” Mom’s hand landed on her shoulder. “No!”

  “And then I realized that it wasn’t about me. It’s really about you, Mom. You tuned everything else out to focus on searching for Lauren. I guess that was what you needed to do. And now that Lauren is back, now you’re just noticing that I’m still your daughter?”

  “Sierra, no. I was never that far away. Distracted, yes, but I wasn’t emotionally unavailable.”

  Whatever, Sierra thought as she kept coloring in the giant L. Mom would always see it her own way, but Sierra knew the truth. Tragedy could crack a family in half like the San Andreas Fault. Still, she gave Mom credit for trying. It was still an apology, right?

 

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