Here and Gone

by Haylen Beck

  ‘The defendant says different,’ the judge said. ‘I need better than your word, Sheriff.’

  Whiteside met her stare, straightened his back, raised his head. ‘My word is all I have, and if that’s not good enough for—’

  ‘No, it is not good enough for me, Sheriff. Let’s try applying some logic to this, shall we?’

  Whiteside seemed to lose an inch in height. A twitch below his left eye.

  A hush fell over the press people who occupied the rear part of the town hall’s meeting room. Tables had been arranged in an approximation of a court layout, one each for the defense and the prosecution, both facing another, where Judge Miller now sat, a weary expression on her face. She removed her spectacles and placed them on the notepad in front of her.

  As soon as they’d arrived, Hendry had gone to the middle-aged man at the other table, the one whose suit was too tight and too old, and they had huddled together, whispering into each other’s ears. The state prosecutor, Audra had guessed. Hendry had explained that Joel Redmond would have shown up expecting a simple plea to a minor offense. He certainly didn’t look prepared for what Hendry told him. The prosecutor had sat back in his chair, shaking his head, then stood and walked to where the judge sat. Judge Miller had shook her head in much the same manner as Redmond, as he went back to the table to pack up his things.

  Now Judge Miller spoke again.

  ‘So, you spot this car that you deem to be overloaded. You pull it over, find a lone woman inside.’

  Audra went to speak, but Hendry took hold of her wrist, silenced her.

  ‘What was it about this scenario that gave you probable cause to search the vehicle?’ She raised a hand before Whiteside could reply. ‘Let me answer that for you: Nothing. You had no good reason to search the vehicle, so you had no good reason to seek consent. Therefore I’m inclined to believe the defendant’s version of events.’

  Whiteside shuffled his feet, fingered the brim of his hat.

  ‘Well, Your Honor, I was already in the trunk, with the idea of moving some of the boxes over to my car, thus alleviating the load on the defendant’s rear axle. Since I was already there, I felt permission to search was implicit.’

  ‘Sheriff Whiteside, did you just become a law-enforcement officer in the last five minutes?’

  ‘No, Your Honor.’

  ‘The last five days? Five weeks? Five months?’

  Whiteside sighed. ‘No, Your Honor. I joined this sheriff’s department when I left the military in 1993.’

  ‘So you’ve been an officer of the law for almost a quarter of a century,’ she said, a hint of a smile on her small mouth.

  ‘Yes, Your Honor.’

  Her face hardened, her eyes fixing Whiteside like green lasers. ‘Then you know damn well that trunk was private property, and you had no business opening it and rooting around, and nothing you found there is admissible as evidence before any court, even one as half-assed as this.’

  ‘Your Honor.’

  Whiteside’s eyes met Audra’s. Another twitch.

  Judge Miller returned the spectacles to her nose, scribbled something on the pad. ‘Mr Redmond tells me he’s going to save wasting any more of our time and drop this stupid case like a hot potato. Sheriff Whiteside, I do not appreciate being asked to drag my ass all the way to Elder County, only to find I’d have been better off staying home. Is my displeasure clear to you, Sheriff?’

  ‘Yes, Your Honor,’ he said.

  Judge Miller turned her attention to Audra.

  ‘Mrs Kinney, as I understand it, you have not been arrested in relation to the whereabouts of your children, nor have you been charged with any other offense. As such, you are free to go.’

  Audra fought the urge to cry. The reporters hummed and rattled like an engine come to life. The prosecutor closed his briefcase, stood, and headed for the exit.

  ‘However,’ Judge Miller said. She slapped the table with a bony palm. ‘Goddamn it, shut the hell up back there. Go on outside if you need to yammer at each other, goddamn pack of vultures.’ She waited a moment for the hush to return. ‘However, I believe Detective Showalter has something for me.’

  ‘Yes, Your Honor,’ Showalter said, getting to his feet. ‘May I approach?’

  ‘You may.’

  Showalter stepped past the desk where Audra sat next to the lawyer. He did not look around at Audra, walked straight to the judge and handed over a manila envelope.

  ‘Your Honor,’ he said, ‘as you know, Audra Kinney is at the center of an ongoing investigation into the disappearance of her children. I travelled back to Phoenix this morning and applied to the Family Court for a special order against Mrs Kinney, barring her from leaving the town boundary of Silver Water until our investigation is concluded.’

  Judge Miller pulled a letter and a form from the envelope, gave them a cursory glance.

  ‘Does Mrs Kinney have accommodation?’

  ‘Your Honor, I spoke to Mrs Anne Gerber, proprietor of River View guesthouse. She hasn’t let a room in some time, but she has agreed to rent a room to Mrs Kinney for the next few nights.’

  ‘Very well,’ Judge Miller said. ‘Mrs Kinney, do you understand? You are free to leave this court, but you are not free to leave this town. If you put one foot beyond the town boundary, you’ll be put straight back in a cell. Is that clear?’

  Audra had stopped listening.

  Out.

  She gripped the table as a dizzy wave washed through her.

  I can get out of the cell.

  No matter that she couldn’t leave the town, she didn’t want to. But now she could try to find her children. She had no idea how, but at least she’d have space to think.

  ‘Yes, Your Honor,’ she said.

  Judge Miller went to gather up her things. ‘This court is dismissed,’ she said. ‘Good day, everyone.’

  Audra stood. ‘Ma’am, may I speak with you, please?’

  Judge Miller removed her glasses once more, sighed, then beckoned with one long finger.

  Audra approached, unsure if her legs could support her for the few steps that would take her to the judge’s table. But she reached it, and once there, she lowered herself so that their eyes were on a level.

  ‘Ma’am, I—’

  ‘Please, address me as Your Honor.’

  ‘Your Honor, I need help.’

  ‘Sweetheart, that ain’t news to anyone.’

  Audra pointed back over her shoulder at Sheriff Whiteside. ‘That man, him and the deputy, they took my children. Sean and Louise. I think my husband paid them to do it. I need to get my kids back. They’re all I have in the world. I’ll die without them. Please help me. Please do something.’

  Judge Miller gave her a kind smile. She reached across the table and took Audra’s hand in hers.

  ‘Honey, the only help I can give you is advice. Just tell the truth. Whatever happens, whatever they say to you, just tell the truth. It’s the only thing that ever helps anyone. You hear me?’

  Her fingers tightened on Audra’s wrist.

  ‘Just tell them what you did with your children,’ she said. ‘Just tell them where the bodies are and it’ll all be over. I promise.’

  21

  THE WALK FROM the town hall to the guesthouse took less than five minutes, but for Audra it lasted a lifetime. Hendry had refused to escort her, saying as he walked away that he’d discharged his responsibilities. As they huddled around the table in the makeshift courtroom, Sheriff Whiteside offered to do it, but Audra said no, she’d rather brave the journalists on her own.

  ‘Shit,’ Special Agent Mitchell said. ‘I’ll do it. Detective Showalter, Special Agent Abrahms, you’re coming too. Let’s go.’

  Showalter stood back from the table, said, ‘Nuh-uh, not me. No, thank you.’

  ‘I wasn’t asking, Detective,’ Mitchell said. ‘Abrahms, take off your jacket.’

  Audra resisted for a moment as Mitchell’s strong fingers gripped her upper arm and hoisted her up out of the s
eat, but then she allowed herself to be guided toward the door. The press had mostly left the meeting room, and Audra could hear them buzzing outside the town hall’s main entrance, waiting to get a shot of her, maybe throw questions at her. They had all been crammed into the makeshift courtroom when she arrived, a constrained murmur running through them as she entered, wrists cuffed, a state patrolman at each arm. Now they were out in the wild and sounded ready to bite.

  Mitchell spoke to Whiteside. ‘Is there another way out?’

  ‘Fire exit out to the side,’ he said, jerking a thumb in that direction. ‘Through the main hall there, over to the right. Probably alarmed, but—’

  Mitchell didn’t wait to hear the rest. She dragged Audra toward the large doors to the hall, then through, letting them swing closed. One caught Showalter on the knee and he cursed.

  A dozen or more police officers turned to look. The hall had been turned into some kind of operations center, a large map of Arizona mounted on an easel, red pins tracing a line across the state. The cops watched as Mitchell guided Audra through them toward the pair of doors to the right-hand side. A green sign above the push bar declared it an emergency exit. Mitchell didn’t break stride until they reached it. She paused there, nodded to her colleague.

  Abrahms draped his jacket over Audra’s head and shoulders, leaving her a narrow opening to see through. She heard rather than saw Mitchell hit the push bar, then the blare of the alarm, felt the heat of the afternoon sun as she was guided out. Not far away, reporters shouted, ‘There, down there, there she is.’

  ‘Move,’ Mitchell said.

  Abrahms holding one arm, Mitchell the other, Audra’s feet skipped over the ground in the alleyway, out through a parking lot, then turning onto a sidewalk. Behind, the sound of running feet. And the voices, calling her name.

  ‘Audra, where are your children?’

  ‘Audra, did you hurt them?’

  ‘Audra, what did you do with Sean and Louise?’

  Mitchell’s hand tightened on her upper arm. ‘Just keep your head down, keep moving.’

  All Audra could see were her own feet skimming the cracked sidewalk. The footsteps coming from behind, running, passing her.

  ‘All right, get back, out of the way.’ Showalter’s voice, hard and angry.

  ‘Audra, where are the bodies of your children?’

  Had it not been for Abrahms and Mitchell holding her upright, she would have fallen then. The realization hit her: They think I killed my children. Of course the authorities believed it, but now she knew that the world believed it too. The thought horrified her.

  Mitchell said, ‘This way,’ and pulled Audra along another alleyway, back to the main street. Still the footsteps all around, the questions, the shouts, the accusations. Audra focused on keeping her feet moving, not stumbling. All she could think of was getting off the street, out of the way of the reporters.

  The dogs, the dogs, they’re chasing me.

  A flash of a memory, a little girl near her grandfather’s yard, a neighbor’s terriers scrabbling after her, barking, teeth bared.

  Help, they’re chasing me.

  She wanted to run, adrenalin hitting her hard along with the fear.

  ‘Almost there,’ Mitchell said. ‘Almost there.’

  They reached a short flight of wooden steps, and now Audra did stumble, her fall caught by her escorts, but not before the edge of a step caught her shin and knee. The voices all around, the questions, reached a crescendo, and she heard the same words over and over, hurt, bodies, harm, children. And their names. They kept shouting her children’s names and she wanted to scream at them to shut up, to leave her alone, to never utter another word about Sean and Louise.

  As Abrahms and Mitchell hauled her upright once more, a door opened, and Audra was swallowed by the building’s cool interior. She heard the door slam shut behind her, Showalter’s voice on the other side telling the reporters to back off, now, that’s enough, just back off.

  Her arms free, Audra pulled the jacket from over her head, threw it down on the floor. Her heart thundered so hard she felt it in her head, in her neck. The adrenalin had turned to a queasy rattle around her body as she tried to breathe. She leaned against a wall, her forehead against her forearm.

  ‘You’re all right,’ Mitchell said, breathless herself. ‘Just take it easy.’

  ‘What was that?’ Audra asked between gulps of air.

  ‘You’re big news,’ Mitchell said. She bent down, picked up Abrahms’ jacket, and handed it back to him. ‘Didn’t you know that?’

  Audra looked to the door, through the glass, and saw the wall of men and women. The microphones and cameras. Showalter with his hands up and out, trying to placate them.

  ‘Jesus,’ Audra said.

  ‘Worry about them later,’ Mitchell said. ‘Let’s get you somewhere to sleep.’

  Audra looked around, found herself in the hallway of what was once a grand old house, with its wide staircase and high ceilings. A small reception desk at the foot of the stairs, a dozen empty hooks that once held keys on a board behind. A musty scent about the place, the smell of disuse, abandonment, of doors kept closed.

  An elderly lady stood by the desk, her gray-eyed gaze hard on Audra.

  Mitchell placed her palm at the small of Audra’s back, guided her deeper into the hallway, closer to the desk.

  ‘Audra, this is Mrs Gerber. She has very kindly agreed to let you a room for a few nights.’

  Audra was about to thank her, but Mrs Gerber spoke first.

  ‘As a mother, I’d like to kick you out on the street,’ she said. ‘But as a Christian, I won’t turn you away. Now, it’s almost a year since I let a room, so don’t expect much. I’ve aired it best I can, changed the sheets and whatnot. There’ll be no meals prepared, I’m not willing to share a table with you, so you’ll have to figure something out for yourself.’

  Mrs Gerber reached into the pocket of her cardigan and produced a long brass key with a leather fob attached, the number three barely legible. Audra reached out her still-shaking hand, but Mrs Gerber ignored her, instead placed it in Mitchell’s palm.

  ‘Thank you, ma’am,’ Mitchell said. ‘We can find it.’

  She told Abrahms to wait there, then guided Audra to the stairs, up to the second floor. Audra waited while Mitchell unlocked the door, opened it, stepped aside to let her in. The room was modest, a queen-sized bed, a bathroom. The sole window overlooked a garden and the rear of another property, an alley in between.

  Mitchell placed the key on a dresser. ‘Lock the door behind me when I leave. I’ll come back this evening, bring you something to eat, some more clothes, some wash things. All right?’

  ‘Thank you,’ Audra said. ‘For everything.’

  Mitchell’s expression hardened, as if Audra’s gratitude offended her. She came a step closer. ‘While I’m gone, I want you to think very hard about what you’re going to tell me. Your children have been missing for at least forty-eight hours now. I hope they’re alive, but everything in my experience tells me they’re not. And everything in my experience tells me you know where they are. When I come back, I want you to tell me. I’m running out of patience with you, Audra. There’s only one way to fix things now. You know what to do.’

  The agent walked back to the corner, where an old cathode-ray television sat on top of a dresser. Mitchell pressed a button and its screen flickered into life, the image distorted and jittery. She scrolled through the channels until she found a news station.

  Audra saw her own face and felt a cold dread.

  ‘You better watch this,’ Mitchell said, tossing the remote control onto the bed on her way to the door. ‘Maybe help you think.’

  22

  ‘UP NEXT,’ THE female anchor said, ‘disturbing new details emerge in the case of missing children, Sean and Louise Kinney, in Silver Water, Arizona.’

  The male anchor turned to camera. ‘And, believe me, you don’t want to miss this latest turn in a story that ha
s already gripped the nation.’

  ‘Oh God,’ Audra said, putting her hands either side of the screen as if the images would burst it at its seams.

  A fanfare, the station’s logo spinning through space, then an ad break. A pharmaceutical commercial for a prescription antidepressant. A grayed-out woman turning to beaming color as she said how glad she was she talked to her doctor about it. Then a man’s voice with a long list of possible side effects, including suicidal thoughts. Audra might have laughed if she wasn’t holding her breath, waiting for the next news segment.

  Another fanfare, another spinning logo, and the hosts reappeared.

  ‘Welcome back,’ the woman said. ‘As we said before the break, disturbing new details have emerged in the case of the missing Kinney children, ten-year-old Sean and six-year-old Louise. The children’s mother was arrested on Wednesday evening just outside the small Arizona town of Silver Water, for possession of an illegal drug. The thirty-five-year-old woman left Brooklyn, New York, four days prior to that, with her children in the backseat. When the Elder County sheriff stopped her car for a minor traffic offense, the children were nowhere to be seen. In a surprise twist today, the possession case was thrown out of court, Judge Henrietta Miller ruling the search of the car to have been illegal. Our reporter in Silver Water, Rhonda Carlisle, has more.’

  Cut to an attractive young African-American woman on the town’s main street, other press people milling around in the background.

  ‘Yes, Susan, dramatic scenes here in Silver Water today, as Judge Miller found that Sheriff Ronald Whiteside had not sought proper consent to search the station wagon Audra Kinney was driving, thus rendering the physical evidence inadmissible. She had no choice but to throw the case out, leaving Mrs Kinney free to go. But not quite.’

  Cut to Audra hunkered down before the judge, the judge holding her hand. Then Audra being rushed along the street, the jacket over her head, flanked by Mitchell and Showalter. The reporter spoke over the footage.

  ‘A detective from the Arizona Department of Public Safety, Criminal Investigations Division, had obtained an order from the Family Court in Phoenix, forcing Audra Kinney to stay within the town boundary of Silver Water while the investigation into her children’s disappearance is ongoing.’