The Innocent

by Amanda Stevens

  Abby’s gaze narrowed. “I’ve never known you to be so solicitous. Especially over a simple broken wrist.”

  He shrugged. “Okay. So I have an ulterior motive. I thought you might want to know that the State Highway Patrol picked up Greta Henley in Biloxi a few hours ago. She was driving a white 1992 Chevy Caprice. They think she was heading for Florida.”

  Abby’s heart thudded against her chest. “What about the children? Or Vickie Wilder?”

  “She was alone. And so far, she’s denying any knowledge of Vickie Wilder or the kidnappings.”

  “I want to talk to her.”

  “Get in line,” Dave said grimly. “We all want a go at her, but the Memphis PD has asked that she be turned over to them. It looks like we may have to wait our turn.”

  “No way,” Abby said vehemently. “We have to get a picture of Greta Henley over to Florence Crowder. If she makes a positive ID, then there’s no way in hell Henley is going back to Memphis. Not until she tells us what she knows about Vickie Wilder. And about those missing children.”

  SAM HAD FINALLY got Karen calmed down, and she was in her bedroom resting. When he’d first arrived, she’d been in a terrible state of agitation. Someone from the sheriff’s department had brought over the hair clip for her to identify, and she’d taken one look at the pink plastic bauble and collapsed into near hysteria. Sam had thought for a moment he might have to call a doctor, but Karen wouldn’t let him.

  She’d clung to him desperately. “He did this. Don’t you see? Curtis is responsible for all this. I crossed him and now he’s making me pay.”

  Sam had tried to reason with her. When he tried to remind her that Luanne Plimpton and Bobby Lee Hatcher were the prime suspects now, she’d become even more frantic. “They didn’t do it,” she said over and over. “He wants it to look that way, but they didn’t take her. I know they didn’t. He killed them, Sam. Just like he’s threatened to kill me. I thought I could protect Sara Beth from him, but now I know I can’t. He’ll do anything to keep me away from her.”

  Finally, she’d worn herself down, and Sam had convinced her to go into her bedroom and rest for a while. A deputy still monitored the phone in the kitchen, and Sam nodded to him as he poured himself a glass of water. Then, going back into the living room, he opened Sara Beth’s file, flipping through copies of witness statements, detectives’ notes—most of them Abby’s—photographs of the drugstore and parking lot, FBI documents. There were background checks on the family, namely Karen and Curtis. It had been Sam’s experience that the background reports on the immediate family were where clues often turned up. Deep debt. A history of violence. It pained him to think that Karen, his own sister, was almost as much of a stranger to him as Curtis was. Her past was certainly as troubled.

  Sam read back over the statements given by Luanne Plimpton and all the school personnel, including Vickie Wilder.

  Something had been bothering him ever since he’d interviewed Vickie. He’d told Abby he thought Vickie was holding out on them, but it was more than that. Sam couldn’t put his finger on it exactly, but there was something a little familiar-looking about her. He hadn’t met her before that day. He knew that. But it was as if he’d caught a glimpse of her somewhere, just a brief glance that had formed a subliminal impression.

  He closed the folders and decided to go check on Karen. Opening the bedroom door, he glanced inside. The bed was neatly made. It didn’t appear as if anyone had lain on top of it, much less crawled beneath the covers.

  Maybe Karen had straightened the spread when she got up. Maybe she was in the bathroom.

  Sam listened for a moment. He couldn’t hear water running, so he didn’t think she was in the shower. He knocked on the bathroom door. “Karen?”

  No answer. He knocked again, then pushed open the door. The bathroom was empty. He went back into the bedroom and glanced around. Atrium doors opened onto the patio, and Sam walked over to check the locks. One of them was open.

  Karen had slipped out without his knowing.

  And suddenly, a memory came crashing over him. In a flash Sam knew exactly where he’d seen Vickie Wilder.

  WHEN ABBY couldn’t reach Sam on his cell phone, she dialed Karen Brodie’s number. A deputy answered, and Abby identified herself, then asked to speak to Sam.

  “He’s not here, Sergeant Cross. He left a little while ago.”

  “Did he say where he was going?”

  “No, but he kind of left in a hurry.”

  Abby frowned. “What about Mrs. Brodie?”

  “She’s in her bedroom resting. Should I get her up?”

  “No, don’t disturb her. She needs her rest.”

  Abby hung up, then tried Sam’s hotel room. He wasn’t there, nor was he at the station or command post. No one had seen him, and he still wasn’t answering his cell phone.

  Fresh out of ideas, Abby called Naomi. “Can you come back over?”

  Naomi was instantly alarmed. “Why? What’s wrong? Do you need to go back to the hospital?”

  “It’s nothing like that,” Abby assured her. “I need you to drive me somewhere.”

  Naomi was immediately suspicious. “Where?”

  “Just come over. I’ll tell you when you get here.”

  “Abby—”

  “Hurry, Naomi. I think I may have figured out where Sara Beth Brodie is.”

  She heard the sharp intake of Naomi’s breath. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  She made it in five.

  Abby was waiting for her out in the driveway. She wore a lightweight jacket over her shoulder holster, but she knew the gun wouldn’t do her much good since she couldn’t use her right hand. Still, the weight of it was comforting as she maneuvered the door handle with her left hand and slid inside.

  Naomi gave her an anxious look. “Where are we going? The sheriff’s station? The command post?”

  “No. We’re going to Vickie Wilder’s apartment.”

  Naomi lifted her brows as she backed out of the driveway. “Why are we going to her apartment?”

  “Because I’m trying to find a missing little girl.”

  “I got that part. But why do you think Vickie Wilder has her in her apartment?”

  “Not in her apartment. But somewhere.”

  Naomi scowled at the road. “I thought Luanne Plimpton and Bobby Lee Hatcher were the kidnappers. Their pictures have been all over the news today.”

  “That’s what someone wanted us to think. And that same someone killed Luanne and Bobby Lee to keep us from finding out the truth.”

  Naomi drove in silence for a moment. “Abby, I don’t like this. I think we should call Sheriff Mooney. Or Sam.”

  “I couldn’t find Sam. But don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything to put either one of us in danger, okay? I’m just playing a hunch. If it pans out, then I’ll call Sheriff Mooney. He’s got enough to worry about right now, dealing with the press after today’s debacle. I don’t want to waste his time until I have something concrete.”

  “All right,” Naomi agreed. “I guess I can see your logic. But how are we going to get into Vickie’s apartment?”

  “You let me worry about that.”

  As it turned out, that wasn’t much of an obstacle after all. Florence Crowder remembered Abby, and she put up little more than a token resistance about letting her back into Vickie’s apartment.

  “What’d you find in there, anyway?” Mrs. Crowder asked as she led them up the stairs.

  “I just want to have another look around, that’s all.”

  “That’s what your partner said when he came by earlier, but I know how cops operate. If there wasn’t something mighty suspicious about Vickie’s apartment, you wouldn’t be wasting time coming back here.”

  “My partner?”

  “Yeah, the tall fella. Dark hair. Receding hairline. Kind of reminds me a little of Bruce Willis. I’ve had a thing for him ever since that first Die Hard movie came out.”

  Naomi and Abby exchan
ged glances.

  “When was he here?” Abby asked.

  “Just a little while ago. We’d just finished eating. Ernie’s in there right now stretched out in his recliner watching X-Files.” She let them in with her passkey, then stood back. “Be sure and lock up when you’re finished.”

  “We will.”

  “You have any idea when she’s coming back?”

  “Vickie?” Abby shook her head. “No.”

  Mrs. Crowder gave her a hard look. “Did she take those little girls?”

  “We don’t know who took them, Mrs. Crowder, but we’re not leaving any stone unturned until we find them.”

  “I never would have thought it of her, you know. She had me buffaloed. Just goes to show you, I guess. Seemed like such a sweet girl.” She shook her head sadly. “And she just loves kids to death.”

  Abby winced at the woman’s unfortunate choice of words.

  ABBY AND NAOMI studied the picture of Vickie and her boyfriend, the same photograph that had puzzled Abby the first time she saw it.

  “What a sweet couple,” Naomi murmured. “And she looks so sincere. I can’t believe she’d do anything to harm an innocent child.”

  Abby didn’t want to remind her sister that some of the most pleasant-looking people in the world were also the most hardened criminals.

  “There’s something about that picture that bothers me,” she said. “But I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “Oh, I know what it is.”

  Abby looked at her sister in surprise. “You do?” Naomi nodded. “Of course. You probably recognize that cabin in the background.”

  Abby stared at her sister in confusion. “What?”

  “Sure, you do. It’s Half Moon Bay Camp, out by the lake. See the crescent moon on the building? And, look, you can even see the emblem on their shirts.” When Abby still didn’t respond, Naomi said impatiently, “Don’t you remember? Mama sent you there one summer, and you hated it. You pitched such a fit, she had to go get you the second day. You swore you’d never go back.”

  Willa Banks’s words came back to Abby. When she was seventeen years old, she worked as a counselor at a summer camp. She fell madly in love with a boy there, another counselor, and she told me that was the happiest time of her life.

  Of course, Abby thought. Half Moon Bay Camp, where Vickie Wilder had fallen in love the summer she turned seventeen. The place where her child had been conceived. The place where she’d spent the happiest time of her life.

  Abby hadn’t thought about that camp in years. It was run by a local church, but it would be closed now for the season. No one would be there.

  She conjured an image. Remote, deserted, surrounded by woods on three sides and the lake on the other.

  The perfect place to hide a child.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Twilight had fallen by the time they got to the narrow lane that led back through the woods to the campground. Naomi pulled to the side of the road and parked. “I haven’t been out here in years. I’d forgotten how spooky it is.”

  The countryside was a little eerie, Abby thought. Or maybe it was just their frame of mind.

  “Now do we call Sheriff Mooney?” Naomi pressed her.

  “Give me ten minutes,” Abby said. “I want to take a look before we get squad cars charging down through here. If Vickie has Sara Beth in one of those cabins, I don’t want to risk her making a run for it. Or worse, panicking. I don’t want to put Sara Beth in the line of fire.”

  “Abby, this is crazy,” Naomi said a little desperately. “You can’t go traipsing off through those woods alone.”

  “I’m not alone. You’re going to wait for me right here, and if I’m not back in ten minutes, you’re going to call Sheriff Mooney. Come on, Naomi, give me a little credit here. I’m a cop.”

  “A wounded cop. You can’t even use your weapon.”

  “I hope I won’t need to.” Abby opened the door and got out. “Pull the car up around that bend so if anyone comes along, they won’t see you. And for goodness’ sake, keep your doors locked.”

  “I’ll roast in here if I don’t roll the windows down,” Naomi complained.

  “And you’ll get eaten alive by mosquitoes if you do,” Abby warned.

  “Oh, just go.” Naomi gave her an impatient wave. “I’ll manage. Just hurry up. And Abby, you be careful, you hear me? You’re all I’ve got left in this world.”

  Abby started to return the sentiment, but then she thought about Sam. She didn’t have him, but it was becoming painfully apparent that she wanted him.

  THE WOODS were heavy with darkness, but Abby didn’t dare turn her flashlight on because she didn’t want to alert anyone to her presence.

  Through patches in the trees, she could see light glinting on water. Somewhere in the distance, a boat motored across the lake. The sound grew louder for a moment, then faded, and the silence seemed magnified in the aftermath.

  A mosquito buzzed her face, and Abby swatted it away. But there were plenty more where that one came from. She thought about Naomi sitting in the car, either sweltering or putting up a valiant battle against the pesky insects.

  Naomi, waiting for her.

  Naomi, waiting all these years for Sadie to come home.

  Abby felt the familiar pain inside her chest. She couldn’t bring back Sadie, but she could find Sara Beth. Please God, she could find Sara Beth, and then Emily.

  The cabins loomed ahead of her. Surrounded by woods, they were set back about fifty yards from the lake. As Abby approached the nearest one, she could hear water lapping against the dock, and for a moment, she could have sworn she heard voices, the sound of a child, but she knew it was her imagination. Her desperation to find the missing girls.

  The cabins were all dark. Abby moved silently between them, glancing in windows, trying to detect some movement, no matter how slight, in the inky blackness of their interiors.

  There were six cabins all together, and the last one was set a little farther back into the woods. Abby paused, listening to her surroundings. She’d heard something again, a sound too slight to startle, but she knew how vulnerable she was out here. She didn’t want to take any chances.

  Glancing around, she calmed her nerves. All was silent. All was still. And then, as she turned back to the cabin, she saw something flicker in the window. A tiny thread of light where a blackout blind hadn’t been pulled all the way to the sill.

  Her heart pounding, Abby started toward the light. She drew her weapon, but in her left hand, it was virtually useless.

  She made her way up to the cabin. The opening beneath the blind was so small, she couldn’t see inside the room. After a moment, she pressed her ear to the glass. She heard nothing at first, but then, like the tinkle of a wind chime, came the sound of a child’s voice.

  Abby’s pulse thundered in her ears. She wanted to rush inside that cabin and sweep the child up into her arms, hold onto her tightly until they were both safe and far away from this place.

  But then another sound came from inside. A voice that sent a chill up Abby’s spine.

  Sam’s voice…

  But what was he doing inside the cabin with Sara Beth?

  How had he found her?

  When had he found her?

  Or had he always known where she was? Abby wondered, a sickening betrayal washing over her.

  Had he known, and deliberately steered her in the wrong direction, as Sheriff Mooney had warned her? Had he fed her information that would keep her away from the truth?

  Distracted by the revelation, by her shock, Abby was too late to react to the snapping of a twig behind her. She whirled, but at that exact moment, something collided with her right temple, hard enough to drop her to her knees.

  And for a moment, she saw nothing but darkness.

  SAM KNEW that he would never forget the sound of the cabin door being kicked open or the look of betrayal on Abby’s face as she stood in the doorway. He’d automatically reached for his weapon, but when h
e saw Abby, he’d hesitated. And then it was too late.

  He registered the blood streaming down the side of her face at the same moment he saw a shadow move behind her. And then she was shoved violently into the room and landed sprawling at his feet.

  He went for his gun again, but Curtis Brodie said coldly, “Don’t do it. Don’t even think about it. I’ll drop you where you stand if you make one false move.”

  Sam glanced back down at Abby. Her eyes were closed. She wasn’t moving. Dear God…

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a scurrying movement beneath one of the bunks. At the first sign of danger, Sara Beth had gone immediately to her hiding place. Just as she’d been instructed.

  In another corner of the cabin, Karen and Vickie Wilder stared in terror at Curtis Brodie.

  “Well, well, well,” he said, gazing around. “What a cozy little setup we have here.” Keeping Sam in his line of sight, he crossed the room to Karen and placed the gun against her temple. He grabbed her arm and jerked her to her feet. “Did you think I wouldn’t know you were the one who took her? Did you think I wouldn’t find out where you were keeping her? God, you’re so stupid and pathetic. So easy to figure out. All I had to do was up the ante. Make you sweat a little. After the ransom demand, you knew you had to move fast, didn’t you? All I had to do was watch and wait.”

  “You were behind the call,” Karen said, her voice surprisingly defiant. “But don’t pretend you did it to find Sara Beth. You wanted the money. That’s why you said you couldn’t raise it, that I’d have to get a loan from the bank.”

  Curtis gave a low laugh. “Maybe you’re not so dumb after all. I needed a little extra cash to get me started somewhere else. Someplace where the IRS has no jurisdiction. Mexico sounds pretty good.”

  Sam, conscious that Abby still lay prone at his feet, said, “So you recruited Luanne Plimpton to help you.”

  Curtis laughed again. “Didn’t take much convincing, considering her greed. And her taste for the finer things in life. She told me she knew someone who’d be willing to pick the money up at the drop for a small cut. An old friend, she said. Someone we could let take the fall if things went bad.”