by Kendel Lynn
“Elliott!” Zanna Fischer pushed through the crowd. She clutched my arms when she found me. “Did he tell you where she is? Where is he keeping her? Why did he take her? Where is she?”
“I haven’t spoken to Alex,” I said.
“But he was arrested right?” Zanna said. “He took her? Is that what they’re saying? Where is she? Oh my mercy, he really took her?” Her voice rose with each word, vibrating and breaking with each passing syllable.
“You know it ain’t kidnapping, Zanna,” a man said. His beard was as big as his belly, and a buxom redhead walked by his side. They approached us mid-foyer, the crowd parting as they rambled into the Big House.
“Don’t you tell me what I know, Bob,” Zanna said.
“You must be Bob Fischer,” I said. “When did—”
“We’re not cutting a deal.” He stuck his finger toward my face as if I was personally handling interagency negotiations. “We’ll find her first, before he can cut a deal. You can take that to the bank.”
“A deal?” Zanna didn’t even toss him a glance. She kept her back to him and her gaze intent on me. “What deal, Elliott?”
“You know what deal,” he said. “He tells us where he buried Daphne, and he gets a lesser sentence.”
“You shut your mouth!” she said, and clutched me tighter. “Don’t you dare say those words.”
I placed my hands on Zanna’s arms, my reassuring grip firm to match her desperation. “Alex was arrested on a drug charge, not kidnapping,” I said. “He’s not talking about Daphne.”
“That’s them bargaining,” Bob said. “Police think we don’t know no better. But we’re going to find her. Today.”
“Oh, so now you’re going to help?” Zanna said. “You and Lulu over there? Finally decide to drag yourselves away from that country bar on Fifth to look for your own daughter? She’ll be thrilled when she comes home and finds out y’all didn’t start lookin’ ’til you felt like it. What? The press finally guilt you into it?”
“Don’t you go gettin’ snide, Zanna,” he said. “Bo says she ain’t in Sedona, you know that. If she ain’t home and she ain’t in Sedona, well, only leaves one thing. Now that Sanders kid’s about to strike a trade, it’s time we face facts. Bring my girl home.”
“What the hell you think I been trying to do for a week?” Zanna said. “What we’re all trying to do. Look at this place. You think we ain’t been trying to find her? How do you go from thinking she needs space to—to—this?”
“Never you mind,” Bob said. “We’re here now. Where do we check-in?”
“Up the stairs,” I said. “Zibby, in the pink—hair, hat, pants—she’ll show you where to go, what to do.” I waved up at Zibby and she returned a thumbs up.
Bob and Lulu lumbered up the stairs, and I turned to Zanna. “We will find her.”
“I don’t want to find her,” Zanna said. Forceful, irritated, completely deflated. Tears streamed down her face. “I do not want to find her out there.” She let me go, then slogged up the wide staircase, her shoulders hunched, her will nearly broken.
“I’ll take care of Zanna,” Tod said and jogged to meet her on the steps.
I spotted Corporal Parker’s blonde ponytail above the throng and inched and pardoned my way to greet her. She wore hiker gear, not her usual uniform. Heavy shorts with pockets front and back, side to side, and a wide utility belt.
“Can we talk?” I asked.
She nodded and followed me into the hall outside of my office.
“Look, I know you can’t tell me what’s going on with Alex—”
“Then don’t ask me,” she said.
“You know I have to ask,” I said. “Look at this family. All of her friends. Daphne obviously suspected Alex of something. She probably figured out his whole Charlotte drug dealing scam. Maybe he knew she had? Did he hurt Daphne? Is he cutting a deal?”
“All I can tell you is we keep searching for her. It’s not easy, but she’s a missing person, and we simply keep looking.”
“Can I talk to him?”
“He’s with the DEA now,” she said. “You’d have to ask them, but I wouldn’t advise it. They’ll tell you even less than I’m telling you now.”
“Is that why the Sheriff isn’t here? He’s with the DEA? I was hoping he’d give me something.”
“I’m giving you something,” Parker said.
“I need more, Parker,” I said. “Daphne’s father is convinced Alex is cutting a deal, and her mother is convinced she’s locked in a basement somewhere. And I have nothing to go on. At least tell me if this is still a search and rescue. Or is it recovery?”
“Keep looking for her,” she said.
“Elli,” Carla said over Parker’s shoulder. “Mr. B is on the phone.”
“Okay, two seconds,” I said, but Parker was already walking away.
I exhaled slowly. I’d been holding my breath a lot lately. The burden of anxiety faced with the unknown was manifesting as bated breath. I retreated to the quiet of my office, the streaming sunlight warming the interior in complete contrast with the chill I’d started to feel.
“Mr. Ballantyne,” I said. “How happy I am to hear your voice. How are you both?”
“We’re well, my dear,” he said. “It’s been a rough one for you. You holding up strong?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “Mostly. The air feels heavier with each day that passes. The number of volunteers is growing, but without any news, concern is evolving into dread.”
“We’ll be home tomorrow morning,” he said. “Perhaps we can ease some of the weight.”
“We put a $10,000 reward on the flyer for Daphne. I hope that’s okay.”
“Let’s up it. Doesn’t seem to be doing the trick. Double it—no, triple it. And we can discuss other options when I land.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Her family thanks you, too. Using the Big House has made all the difference.”
“Not all the difference, my dear,” he said.
He was right. There was barely a difference between the minute Juliette said Daphne was missing until now. “Alex Sanders, Daphne’s boyfriend, was arrested.”
“Yes, yes, I heard. But I also heard he’d stopped assisting in the search for Daphne.”
“I think he’s using it as leverage,” I said. “Which is terrible on so many fronts. The DEA has a big drug case. I almost blew the whole sting in Charlotte. Inadvertently, of course. For not having much to go on, this entire case seems to be getting away from me. I’m sorry for any trouble, especially for you.”
He boomed his hearty laugh. “You keep doing what you’re doing, my dear. Daphne is our priority.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I cannot wait to see you tomorrow.”
He sent his love, along with Vivi’s, and I felt better than I had in days. His warmth and kindness and generosity enveloped me, restored me.
I joined the search team briefing in the second-floor ballroom. Wide crystal chandeliers graced the painted ceiling and polished parquet covered the floors. Thick white linen covered long tables in rows, like an elegant executive classroom. In the far corner, a dozen people surrounded a poster station with vibrant papers, markers, flyers, and photos.
Carla’s egg wraps were the highlight of a protein breakfast station. Fluffy scrambles, hearty sausage and bacon, fresh chopped veggies, and a tortilla press. Another buffet table held filled water bottles, the good kind with sippy straws and carabineer hooks.
“Divide by color code,” Parker instructed the room. “If you didn’t receive your team tag, please see Zibby Archibald in the gallery. That’s right here on the second-floor landing. Each color coordinates to a grid zone. Follow it carefully and stay in your own zone.”
I slid a water bottle into the side netting of my backpack, then asked Zibby for a team assignment.
“W
e’ll give you blue to match your car,” she said. “It’s the Cabana Boulevard zone, dear, in Summerton. Check the crisscross for essentials.”
“Set your phone ringers on high,” Parker said, her voice fading as I descended the stairs. “Call your zone leader if you see anything and remember to mark everything.”
The car procession stretched across Palmetto bridge into Summerton. Most of the vehicles had Find Daphne flyers taped to their car doors and trunks. Light poles and stop signs along the route all bore the same Find Daphne flyers, blowing and fraying as traffic zipped past. Did anyone even look at them?
My grid section of the blue zone started a mile beyond the Cake & Shake. Its own lot overflowed with cars and people and signs. The shift in energy, specifically ignited by the news of Alex Sanders’ arrest, seemed to have sounded the call, galvanizing locals beyond friends and family, to find Daphne.
I arrived at my zone and parked on the shoulder on the right side of Cabana next to a row of orange cones. I kept the top down and popped the trunk to retrieve my largest brimmed hat and a walking stick.
Juliette’s car bumped onto the grassy shoulder ten feet in front of me. She climbed out with a weak wave.
“Hey,” I called. “You alone?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Divide and conquer, right?”
“You’re supposed to be in a team,” I said.
“Tucker had to work. Finish a job at his grandfather’s shop before the wedding. Which is in two days.” She choked on the last word, then cleared her throat. “This isn’t how this week was supposed to go, you know? We planned that he’d work all week so we could have a honeymoon, and me and Daphne would bake cakes so we could have a wedding.”
She fell into my offered hug and cried into my shoulder. “I know, it’s not about my wedding,” she said. “It’s just, I don’t understand why this is happening. I want her here with me baking cakes and drinking martinis and gossiping about Farrah and Jona and Alex and Tucker.”
With a soft touch to her shoulders, I pulled back. “It’ll be okay. We’ll find her.”
“I’m with Zanna,” she said and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “I do not want to find her out here.”
We each checked our backpacks. Secured and tightened, we entered the grove of thick scrub pines. It ran for miles. Thousands of trees—loblollies, sweet gums, oaks, wax myrtles—bordered the road from the bottom tip of Sea Pine Island all the way to the highway and beyond.
Juliette stayed close to me, and we could see and hear other people walking through brush stretching west and north.
“How is Millie Poppy doing?” I asked.
“She’s built pretty tough,” Juliette said. “Plus, she has Sam. He’s been by her side almost constantly. She doesn’t always know when to lean on people, but he’s there when she does.” Dry pine needles crunched softly beneath her steps. “I can’t believe it’s been a week.”
“Only a few days,” I said. “There’s still plenty of time—”
“No, I mean, we were just getting ready for my bridesmaid brunch. It’s seems like forever ago I delivered cakes to the Big House for your tasting party, and Daphne was finishing the beads on my veil.” Her voice sounded flat, almost numb. “How did it all go so wrong? So fast?”
I didn’t have an answer for that, and it was frustrating. Her family asked me specifically to find out, and I’d yet to uncover anything useful.
“I want my phone to ring and her brother to say, ‘Hey Jules, she’s here. Got caught up in Texas, you know how she loves those farmer’s markets.’” She laughed, sort of. “God, she’d be mortified to find out every person she knows is on the side of the road looking for her.”
A clear plastic cup poked out from beneath a scraggly bush. A matching lid and straw were tossed nearby.
“How do we know what to mark?” Juliette asked. “It’s all so random.”
“We mark it all.” I placed of colored paper slip near the cup and took a photo. Did the same for the lid and straw. “We let the investigators decide what matters.”
It was hot, summer hot. The dense forestry began to thin. We ambled farther from the highway, closer to Loggerhead Bluff, a golf community in the distance. She spotted another cup while I tagged a torn fast food wrapper.
My phone vibrated.
A text from Parker: Call me.
I dialed her number and held the phone tight against my ear. As it rang, Juliette noticed I’d stopped walking and backtracked to meet me.
“We found someone,” Parker said. “Green zone, about two miles from your grid.”
“What is it?” Juliette asked.
I kept my face as neutral as I could and held up a finger.
“You alone?” Parker asked.
“No, Juliette’s right here,” I said.
“What’s going on?” Juliette asked and grabbed my arm. “Tell me.”
“I hear her,” Parker said. “Okay, keep it quiet as you can, but head this way. Quickly. News will spread as the emergency vehicles arrive. I’m just down Piedmont Lane, off Glen Falls. Bring Juliette. She might be able to help.”
The words “identify the body” went unsaid.
“We gotta go,” I said.
I jogged atop the pad of pine needles and tangled shrub vines, Juliette at my shoulder. We had traveled farther from the road than I’d realized. About a half mile. The heat made it difficult to move swiftly. We arrived at the orange cones sticky and red-faced.
Juliette ran to her car and whipped open the door.
“Wait,” I said. “Drink your water first.”
“But—”
“Take care of yourself,” I said. “It’s hot out here. And I’ll drive. You’re in no shape.”
Her shaking hands tilted the sippy straw, and she gulped a third of the water. She locked her car and strode to the Mini. “They found her, right?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know something. They found something. They found her? Oh God, just tell me.”
“Juliette, I don’t know. You’re right. They found something. Parker wants me to come help, that’s all I know.”
It was the longest two-mile drive in all my life. We passed dozens of cars and search teams. We turned right onto Glen Falls, then another right onto Piedmont. The volunteers in this zone had thinned out, but the police presence had recently increased.
Police vehicles, both cruisers and SUVs, were parked caddywhompus along the shoulder. Two fire trucks rolled up behind us, one ladder truck, one search and rescue.
“Why are there no sirens?” Juliette asked. Her voice shook. “That’s not a good sign. Means she’s not alive, right? If she was alive, they’d have sirens.”
I put my hand over hers. “Slow down. It only means they don’t want to alert every person within a five-mile radius. The use of sirens doesn’t change their speed. They can still drive fast.”
Parker emerged from the brush and Juliette flung herself out of the car. She abruptly stopped and dirt flew. “What am I doing? I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know. I can’t go in there.”
I put my arm around her and walked her back to the Mini. She leaned against the hood.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll find out what’s going on. You wait here.” I pulled her water bottle from the side of her pack. “Keep drinking.”
Parker led me a hundred feet into the brush. It wasn’t as dense as the border along Cabana Boulevard, and I could still see Juliette by the car.
Parker stopped before a wider clearing where evidence techs were stringing yellow crime scene tape. Other techs placed squat numbered cones in various spots. Cameras clicked and flashed.
“Is it Daphne?” I asked.
“We’re not sure,” Parker said.
I looked at her. She looked at me.
“I see.”
<
br /> “There’s a beaded earring, like Daphne makes. I think. It’s near the body of a woman. About her age. But she hasn’t been here long.”
In the space of our five-minute walk and talk, cars had raced down Piedmont and skidded to a stop in the dusty grass. Car doors slammed and thumped as voices grew louder.
Zanna, Bob, and Lulu ran toward us. Then Millie Poppy and Sam. Then Tucker, and finally Juliette, her water bottle still clutched in her hand.
Parker and I jogged toward them. We stretched our arms wide to form a human blockade. One built more of will than physicality.
“Where is she?” Bob yelled.
“Oh my mercy,” Zanna cried. “Please tell me. Please tell me. Just tell me.”
“Stop, everyone, please stay back,” Parker said, then she hollered over her shoulder. “Get some help here?”
“Wait,” I said to Daphne’s family. “You’ll ruin the integrity of the scene. There’s evidence out here. You’ll make it worse, not better.” I found Millie’s gaze as the family continued to shout. “Please, Millie Poppy. Help them understand. They cannot go back there.”
“We gotta see,” Bob said.
“We gotta know,” a male voice from the crowd yelled. “We have a right to be here.”
“Hey, Tucker,” Bob said. “Grab your friend, maybe two. Go ’round the other side. Take the brush, through the trees. We’ll hit it this way.”
“Who has binoculars?” another voice shouted.
“Please, please, please,” Zanna begged. “I know I said I don’t want to find her, but I have to know. I have to find her.” She clung to Millie Poppy on one side and Sam on the other.
“You can’t keep us away!” Bob shouted. “This is ri-Goddamn-diculous! It’s a free country and that’s my daughter!”
Sheriff Hill arrived mere seconds before Ransom. They jogged up to the throng scattered midway between the car line and the clearing.
“I brought barricades,” Sheriff Hill said to Parker. “We’ll get this moved back.”
Several officers formed a half-circle on both sides of Parker and me. Their arms spread wide like ours.