by CJ Lyons
Roy sniffed hard, head hung low. "Sally? Did you find her?"
"Not yet. They're still searching the debris," O'Hara said.
Roy gave another cry of anguish.
"Who's Sally?" Jenna asked.
"Rachel's little girl. Just turned four."
"She was in the trailer?" The memory of that blast, the heat, the fireball, seared her vision. No way anyone survived inside that trailer. If she hadn't been killed beforehand when the automatic weapons the bikers used ripped the thin walls to shreds. "Christ, who would raise a kid in a place like that?"
Bob looked away.
"It wasn't your fault," Jenna said. "You tried to help her, help them."
"It wasn't my fault," Roy shouted at O'Hara. "I was trying to save her! You can't hang this on me. It's not my fucking fault! If those bitch cops hadn't of shown up, none of this would have happened!"
Suddenly everything became crystal sharp for Jenna. Sitting in the dark, watching a man fall to pieces.
Roy was right. This wasn't his fault.
If Lucy hadn't let Adam go, they would have never stopped to see Rachel. They would have headed back to the city and Jenna would never have killed another human being. Rachel and her little girl would still be alive, and this awful taste of cat piss that kept filling Jenna's mouth, making it hard to swallow or breathe, would never have come, and she would never have pulled the trigger and…
She scraped her chair back and stood so fast the table rocked. "I have to go."
"I thought you wanted to hear—" Bob opened the outside door for her. "Jenna, are you all right?"
There was a restroom across the hall. Jenna plunged through the door and fell to the floor in front of the toilet, dry heaving. No, she wasn't all right. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be all right again.
Bob followed her inside. Held her hair, mopped her face with a wet paper towel, then helped her to her feet when it was clear nothing was coming up. It was all too deep inside her. Living there, festering, ready to ambush.
How could she have imagined she was in control? Jenna splashed water on her face and gave a weak laugh. Bob pressed his palm against the small of her back, supporting her.
Funny thing was, she didn't feel embarrassed that he witnessed her weakness. As if it didn't matter. Or he didn't matter.
All she felt was relief that it wasn't Lucy, the super hero, all-star FBI agent who probably never felt out of control in her entire life. Damn her to hell. Who'd she think she was, letting Jenna's fugitive escape?
"Can I get you anything?" Bob asked.
Jenna shook her head. Bob didn't have what she needed.
She needed to find the person really responsible for all this mess. Adam Caine.
<><><>
The deputy led Lucy and Zeller next door to a conference room. A blonde in her mid thirties paced behind the table, her LL Bean parka unzipped to reveal maroon hospital scrubs.
"Colleen Brady," the deputy made introductions.
Zeller strode forward, hand stretched out, and took the woman's palm. "Sheriff Zeller, ma'am. So sorry to meet you under these circumstances. Why don't you sit and tell us what happened?"
The woman nodded, wiped her nose with the back of her hand, and dropped into a chair. "My mother, she watches Marty when I'm at work and I was on eight to four, but she's had a real nasty cold and took some cough medicine and fell asleep, and as I was leaving work she called and when she woke, Marty wasn't there, so you were on the way and I just, I just…" She ran out of steam, tears choking any further words.
"So you haven't been home yet yourself?" Zeller asked.
She shook her head.
"Let's start there." He nodded to the deputy who excused herself to dispatch a unit over to the house. "You and Marty live with your mom?"
"We moved in with her when Martin was deployed."
"Your husband, he's overseas?"
Another shake of her head. "Killed. In action. Four months ago."
"Sorry for your loss." He pulled the phone between them and put it on speaker. "What's your mother's name?"
"Cathy. Cathy Silvetti." She dialed the phone, her finger trembled. "Mom? Did you find him? I'm with the sheriff."
"Colleen." The older woman's voice was pitched with panic. "I can't find him anywhere. I looked all over."
"Mrs. Silvetti," the sheriff put in, "we're sending a car out there, so you just sit tight. What time were you expecting Marty home from school?"
As he began to work the particulars, Lucy slid her notebook from her pocket and made notes of questions that would be helpful and slid the page to Zeller.
"And what was Marty wearing today?"
"I'm not—I can't—" Panic flooded the grandmother's voice.
"Green fleece top over a Spiderman tee," the mom supplied. "Blue jeans, gray—no, black—sneakers. Navy blue jacket and a red and blue backpack with a glow in the dark Spiderman decal."
"Are any of those in the house, Mrs. Silvetti?"
There was the sound of the grandmother walking. "No. They're all gone."
Zeller read from Lucy's notes. "And do we know for certain he went to school this morning?"
Colleen jerked at that. "You mean, maybe he—oh no, this is all my fault." New tears shook her. Lucy scooted her chair closer and handed her a box of tissues.
"What happened?"
"I got called in to work an extra shift last night, didn't get home until after midnight." Colleen gasped for air as if trying to stop her words and failing. "I woke Marty. He came running out, so excited and happy—thought I was his father home at last. When Marty saw I wasn't his father, he threw a tantrum, screaming, crying for his daddy, demanding him. He wouldn't even let me hug him or anything. And I, I just miss Martin so much, I lost it."
She paused, looked up in regret. "I yelled at him. Told him his dad was never coming home. Then I sent him back to bed."
"Was there any physical contact?" Lucy asked gently.
"No—no, nothing like that. When he was flailing about, so upset, I gave him a bear hug, held him until I knew he wouldn't hurt himself. He kept hitting me, screaming for his dad, and when I said he wasn't coming home, he just stopped. Looked at me like I was a monster. And ran back to bed."
"How was he this morning?"
"Seemed fine. Like it had all been a bad dream. He was prone to night terrors and sleep walking when he was a toddler, I kinda hoped he really had slept through it."
"But now?"
"Now I can't help wondering if he ran away. Maybe to look for his dad? Because of me."
<><><>
Dad made it seem so easy. So typical of Adam to screw up. Who'd he think he was, thinking he could be as good as Dad?
Fear and worry forced him into a rapid pace. He stomped down the snow until he saw the tracks he left behind. Not good. Leave no trace, Dad always said.
He tore free a hemlock branch and erased all traces of himself and the kids, backing into the secret entrance to the cave. He left the branch against the boulder in the foyer—he'd use it to cover his tracks when he left again.
He snuck through to the rear cavern and peered over the edge of the pit, keeping to the shadows on the opposite side from the lantern. The fire appeared totally out now. Marty and Darrin sat with their heads together, their voices low murmurs. Conspiring against him. He was family. They were supposed to love him, not defy him.
He remembered all the times he'd questioned Dad. Even though he never voiced his doubts out loud, Dad always knew when he wavered.
He'd sit Adam down and grill him, not letting him move until Dad was satisfied with his answers. The sessions went on hours, long enough that once or twice when Adam was just a kid, he'd soil himself. Why couldn't Adam be a good son? Hadn't Dad earned his trust? What would Adam do to regain Dad's trust? Would he follow Dad's instructions no matter how painful they were?
Eventually Adam saw the light and repented any doubts. Then Dad would test Adam. Sometimes it was something gross like eating a
bug. Other times it was something painful like holding his hand over a candle until Dad said he could move it.
The worst times involved a fish. Pick one out and reel them in without Dad's help. Or deciding what Dad would use on them first: the cattle prod or the knife.
Their fate in Adam's hands, Dad would say. That's how it felt to be a parent. That was the responsibility Dad faced every day with every choice he made. Was Adam really ready to take all that on himself?
No, he whispered. But Dad forced him to make the choice, pass the test, before he'd give Adam what Adam craved: the faintest hint of a nod and smile, Dad's hand surfing through Adam's hair, letting him know all was forgiven.
"I'm not ready," Adam whispered as he crept over to the lantern. He took it, leaving the kids in darkness except for the light of the heater. Darrin's shrill cry spiraled up, but Adam steeled himself to ignore it. Being the grownup was tough, but he had to do the right thing and keep the family safe.
Even if that meant letting the kids learn the hard way to listen to him. Obey him. Like he had obeyed Dad.
If only Dad were here. Adam curled up on his sleeping bag, toasty warm and unable to hear the kids now that he was in the front chamber of the cave. Usually he wasn't afraid of the dark, not here in his sanctuary. But tonight he left the lantern burning.
Just in case the kids needed anything, he lied to himself, hugging his knees to his chest. His heart ached like it hadn't since that first night when Rick the Prick tiptoed into his room.
A tear stung his eye. He wanted his Dad. Now. He didn't want to be the adult anymore. It was too damn hard. Someone was going to get hurt and he wouldn't be able to stop it.
"Please God," he prayed. "Please let him find me. Soon. Please send my dad."
The prayer still echoed through his mind as he drifted to sleep, more comforting than any lullaby.
Chapter 20
So this was what limited duty meant, Jenna thought as she stomped her feet and hugged her body against the night wind and waited for the school janitor to open up.
The entire sheriff's department searched for little Marty Brady. Both shifts of deputies canvassed his neighbors, called his classmates, alerted the media. And they sent Jenna to search his school. The vice principal was supposed to meet her here and check the attendance records as well as footage from the security cameras. See if they could pinpoint a time and place when Marty was last seen.
If the kid even made it to school. They had no proof he'd made it out of the house alive. Not that Jenna was cynical or anything. But after seeing the stuff folks put on film and sent through the mail, doing unimaginable things to their own kids, she wasn't taking anything for granted.
Neither was Lucy. When she called Jenna in, she'd been gently interrogating the mother, asking about grandma’s drinking habits and health issues, and getting a feel for the family dynamics. Said she had a good vibe about mom and so was sending Jenna to the school instead of the house.
Yeah. To stand out here in the cold and dark, hungry since she missed lunch and now was about to miss dinner, while Lucy was nice and warm inside the sheriff's station where no doubt some local merchant would spring for pizza to curry good will with the local law enforcement.
She kicked at the door, her hands too cold to rap on it with bare knuckles again. She'd spotted a Walmart in Huntingdon, was half tempted to run over and grab gloves and a warmer coat. Especially as neither the janitor nor the principal were anywhere in sight.
Just as she was trudging back to her car, she spotted someone peering through the windows of the school. From their height, a teenager or short adult. She couldn't tell if they were male or female, not at this distance.
One way to find out. Jenna approached them from the side, staying in the shadows cast by the spotlights arranged around the roof. A girl. Moving from one classroom to the next, shining a flashlight inside as if looking for something.
Or someone.
Jenna got close enough to grab her. "Mind if I ask what you're looking for?"
The girl yanked her arm free but didn't bolt, although her feet were turned away from Jenna as if she wanted to. "My brother. I thought he might be hiding in there."
"Your brother?"
"He didn't come home from school today. But after what my dad did last night. Well, he loves school, is always saying he wished he could live here…" She trailed off, her gaze locked onto Jenna's badge. "Oh my God! Has something happened to Darrin? Do you know where he is? Please tell me he's okay."
"Come with me." Jenna led the girl back to the Taurus. "What's your brother's name?"
"Darrin. Darrin Harding."
Harding? She knew that name. From the case files. "How old's your brother?"
"Six. He's in second grade."
"Does he know Marty Brady?"
"Yeah. Marty's his best friend." She hesitated as if caught telling a fib. "Actually, Marty's his only friend. Why?"
"Get in the car and give me a minute." Jenna pulled out her phone. Seemed like this end of the valley had the only cell reception. Two bars. Which was good because she sure as hell didn't want to drive around searching for a signal and delay things even more. "Lucy? It's me. I'm at the school. No, haven't had a chance to search it yet. But there's a girl here. Looking for her brother who never came home from school. Marty Brady's best friend. We have two kids missing, not one."
"Who’s the other boy?" Lucy asked.
"Wasn't the whole reason you came to New Hope four years ago was to interview Karen Harding? And her asshole husband threw you out of town? It's her kid. Darrin Harding."
Jenna smiled at Lucy's silence. Nice to know even the superstar FBI agent could be caught by surprise.
"Sonofabitch," Lucy finally said. "I'm on my way."
<><><>
Shadows danced around Darrin down in the pit. Worse than being the target in dodge ball. The light from the little round heater only made them worse. He held his breath and pulled his knees in, not sure which direction the attack would come from.
Marty sat down on Darrin's sleeping bag. "Here. My dad's watch." He pressed his treasure into Darrin's hands. "Look. It glows in the dark."
"Thanks." But that didn't help stop the shadows. "I'm sorry."
"I don't like your big brother," Marty said. "He's mean." He stood and shouted once more into the black, "I want my mommy!"
The echoes rang back down on them like a rain shower, distorting Marty's words into "Iowa salami."
Darrin laughed. "Let me try." He stood beside Marty. "Daffy Duck stinks!"
"Taffy yuck ink," the cave answered back.
Darrin sat back down on top of something hard and plastic. He grabbed it. The cool crank-it-up flashlight Adam gave him. Soon the pit filled with light. And they saw the other flashlights Adam bought them. The colored LED ones they played tag with earlier, a pink one with a tiny grip that fit Sally's hand, and big ones for Darrin and Marty.
"Maybe he wanted us to figure out we don't need to be afraid of the dark," Darrin said. He handed Marty back his watch.
"I think he's just mean. We need to find a way out of here." Marty explored the pit even though they'd already run around the entire area when they were playing.
Darrin experimented with his light. A shadow lunged from the other side of the ring of stones they'd built the fire in. A bear or a monster? His breath caught. He aimed both lights at it.
Then he laughed. Just Sally rolling over in her sleep. No monsters here.
<><><>
Sheriff Zeller was walking a tightrope that just caught on fire. Lucy felt bad for him, but that was the lot of politicians. He wanted her help—although truth be told, he was doing a fine job with the limited resources he had—but also he needed to keep her name quiet for now, keep the press and public focused on today’s situation, not the one that happened four years ago.
If things went well, he'd be a hero. If they went wrong, he’d let Lucy take the blame.
Lucy understood all of this. It was
the way of the world. The path an elected official needed to tread.
She told Zeller about Darrin Harding, knowing she'd just made his already complicated job worse.
"I'll go to the school, review the video tapes and interview the sister," she offered. "But sooner or later, Kurt Harding is going to know I'm here. You remember what happened last time."
Harding had gone over the local officials and used his Washington connections to reach Lucy's boss. He ordered her immediate return to Quantico, despite the fact she used personal leave pursue her theory in New Hope. Harding kicked up such a fuss, the previous sheriff sent a deputy to escort her out of the county.
Until they stumbled upon Adam Caine.
"I remember," Zeller said with a sigh. "Doesn't change the fact that two boys' lives are at stake and we can use all the help we can get. Besides, Karen is going to be devastated and she's a fragile lady to start with. I seem to recall you were the only person able to calm her down last time—Lord knows Kurt can't. We'll just tell him his son's disappearance is so important we called the big guns in right away."
"Good idea. Make it all about him and how important he is. He'll probably enjoy the chance to order me around again."
"I'd like to see him try." Zeller glanced through the window where the snow fell heavier than ever. She knew he was thinking the same thing she was: what were the odds of two six year olds surviving a night in the cold?
"I'll send a deputy with you to the school. Get started there while I head to Harding's and pave the way. Meet you there when you're ready."
"Thanks, Sheriff."
"I'm the one who should be thanking you. If this goes wrong, Harding will have your badge."
<><><>
When Lucy and the deputy arrived at New Hope Elementary, the single-story building was a blaze with lights. The janitor and principal bustled about inside, obviously upset by the sudden turn of events.
"We've never had anything like this happen," the principal kept repeating.
Lucy sent the deputy and janitor to search the premises while she had the principal check attendance records and gather the security footage.