Shadow Falls

by Wendy Dranfield

  “That’s not really how it works with a private investigator,” he says. “We have other means of tracking people down and we look into the background of everyone at the scene of the disappearance. Can I ask what you both do for a living?”

  Grant seems surprised by the question. “I’m a financial adviser and Anna is a teaching assistant at a nearby elementary school. We’ve been married for fourteen years.”

  “Does Jenny have any siblings?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Was she happy to go to summer camp?” asks Madison. “Has she been before?”

  Anna looks at her. “It was her first time and she was looking forward to it. She doesn’t have many friends at school because she’s… shy. So we thought it would help her to open up. Camp is meant to teach children social skills and enrich their lives.”

  “Is she on the autism spectrum?” Madison presses.

  Nate stops writing and looks up at the parents. He wouldn’t have thought of asking that.

  Anna looks like she’s going to cry again, but she shakes her head. “No. She’s just a sensitive girl. It’s not her fault. Some kids are just like that. She’ll blossom eventually, I know it.” She covers her mouth.

  Nate takes a deep breath. It’s good that she’s not given up hope of seeing her daughter again. Hope will give her strength. Sensing how difficult it is for them to rehash their daughter’s disappearance, he decides it’s time to wrap things up. “Okay, I’ll need the name of the local police department, and the detective who’s investigating the case. Here’s my email address and cell number.” He stands up and hands Esme his business card. “Please email me anything of importance: where Jenny might have run away to, who she liked to hang out with, or anything the police have told you so far that you haven’t told us.”

  “Will you be visiting the summer camp?” asks Esme.

  “Absolutely. We’ll head up there next and I’ll keep you updated.”

  “We really hope she’s just attention-seeking.” Grant stands up. “Do either of you have kids of your own?”

  Nate shakes his head, but he notices Madison doesn’t respond.

  “Well,” says Grant, “twelve-year-olds are at that experimental stage where they’re testing boundaries and people’s patience. I heard the term ‘tweenager’ recently and laughed, because it describes her perfectly. She’s battling between wanting to stay Daddy’s little girl and wanting to be cool in the eyes of her school friends. So let’s hope she’s just camping out in the forest on her own adventure, and existing by stealing supplies from the campsite. I have every faith she’ll reappear with her tail between her legs.”

  Nate is a little surprised by his attitude. Most parents would assume the worst for their missing daughter. Grant is probably putting on a brave face for his wife and mother, and it’s understandable that he wouldn’t want to entertain the thought that his daughter could be with a child abductor. But Nate is pretty sure that if Jenny was just camping in the woods, the police would’ve found her by now.

  “Before we go, can we look in her bedroom?” he asks.

  Anna looks up, shocked. “Why?”

  “Just to get a feel for what she’s into.” He doesn’t tell them the real reason, of course. He has to check whether the girl is, or ever has been, lying in there dead; and whether there’s anything of interest to be found, like posters indicating a dark obsession with death, or a diary that could explain where she might be.

  He would rather Jenny had run away than been abducted, and a kid’s bedroom holds vital clues about their personality that you won’t get from a parent’s perception of them.

  Twelve

  Grant and Anna share a look, but Grant reluctantly agrees. “Mom, would you show them upstairs?”

  Anna remains seated, pulling her wrap tighter around her shoulders.

  Nate follows as Esme leads the way, clearly glad to be of some use. “She’s a quiet girl, but she does ever so well at school, especially in biology. She wants to be a doctor. She’s a bit of a tomboy and isn’t into dresses or Barbies. Here are some photos of her.”

  All the way up the stairs are family portraits showing Grant, Anna and Jenny. Nate takes his cell phone out. “Can I snap a photo of her to save you giving me one of these?”

  Esme nods, but looks upset. “She loves her father, you know. Before she started acting a little more like a teenager, they would spend so much time together. She’s definitely a daddy’s girl. Grant taught her to fish last summer, and they enjoy sitting on the beach together with their fishing rods.”

  Nate takes photos of two of the portraits, which look as if they were taken a couple of years apart. In the first, Jenny is almost angelic-looking, with her porcelain skin, blonde hair and winning smile. She’s wearing a white summer dress with yellow sandals and must be about nine or ten. She’s standing next to Grant, but Nate can’t see an obvious resemblance to her father.

  “She’s pretty,” says Madison behind him.

  “She is,” says Esme. “So photogenic.”

  In the second portrait, Jenny’s a little taller, and tanned, her hair now a slightly darker shade of blonde. She’s staring at the camera with a combative look in her eyes, and Nate can see what they mean about her change in attitude. He supposes it’s inevitable as kids near their teens, but she doesn’t look as happy as in the earlier photo. Her smile is strained. Both parents seem oblivious to her mood as they smile for the camera. Jenny is skinny for her age and her clothes look designer. Grant is resting one hand on her shoulder. Anna has a hand on her other shoulder.

  He can tell these shots were professionally done. The photographer has succeeded in making them appear like a wholesome American family. It’s only when you look closer that you see how much Jenny would rather be anywhere else.

  Esme notices him inspecting the photo. “She was in a bad mood that day, poor thing. Probably her hormones starting to kick in. It’s rare that she’s not smiling or giggling about something.”

  “Does she have any distinguishing marks?” asks Madison. “A mole, or a birthmark?”

  Esme nods. “I forgot to tell the detective this—perhaps Anna did—but she has a long, straight scar down her left forearm from an accident she had when she was younger.”

  When they reach the spacious hallway upstairs, Nate glances around. It looks like anyone else’s house, with neutral walls and wooden floors, and a large potted plant on the landing. It’s extremely clean and tidy, almost like it was prepared for their visit. There are seven closed doors, suggesting five bedrooms and two bathrooms. It’s a large house for just three people.

  “Do you live here?” he asks Esme.

  “No, I live a couple of miles away.” She lowers her voice. “I’d like you to send your invoices to me. Here are my contact details.”

  She hands Nate a piece of paper with her full name, address, email and cell number on.

  “As I’m the one paying for your services, I’d like to be the primary contact for any updates you have.” She stops and looks at them both. “I’m just trying to minimize the distress to my son and daughter-in-law. I’m sure you understand.”

  They both nod, and Esme opens the door to Jenny’s room. It’s just as tidy as everywhere else. It’s a large room with wooden floors and another panoramic view of the hills and ocean. There are posters on the walls depicting the anatomy of the human body, complete with medical terminology and an explanation of the different bodily functions. There is even a full-sized plastic skeleton in the corner, though it’s wearing a pink cowboy hat from some cheap beachside store. Nate picks up a notebook from the small desk under the window. Algebra. He flicks through it, but it only contains equations and doodles. Jenny’s noticeboard is showcasing some heart-warming paintings, mostly of her family. They seem a little young for a twelve-year-old girl, and he imagines they’ll soon be replaced by posters of boy bands. Her bed is made up, ready for her return.

  As Nate looks around, Madison quizzes Esme.


  “What kind of things is Jenny interested in at the moment? Does she have any favorite books or TV shows?”

  Esme grimaces. “Oh well, now there’s a topic! She used to love reading Young Adult novels, but Grant recently found a horror novel in her backpack. Can you imagine that!”

  Nate laughs. He loves a good horror novel. “Let me guess. Stephen King?”

  Esme looks surprised. “Yes. How did you know that? It had a murderous clown on the front. Why on earth would a twelve-year-old girl want to read something like that? It would give me nightmares.”

  Madison smiles. “Trust me, you don’t need to worry about Jenny enjoying books like that. It’s perfectly natural for teenagers to want to read about death. It sounds gruesome, but they’re just trying to scare themselves. I read all sorts when I was her age.”

  Esme looks unconvinced.

  “How would you describe Jenny’s personality?” asks Madison.

  “I’d say she’s different to other girls her age.” Esme pauses and takes a deep breath. “She’s so shy and quiet in front of outsiders, but in the house she puts on these fabulous productions where she plays all the characters. She’ll see a TV show or a movie that sparks her imagination, and she’ll adapt it slightly and then invite us to watch it in the living room.” She laughs as she wipes tears from her watery eyes. “When I watch her flip perfectly between the different characters, I can’t help but marvel at how she can portray so many different people just by changing the intonation of her voice, or her mannerisms. I told her more than once that she could be a movie star one day.”

  Madison is smiling at Esme’s memory. “Did that appeal to her?”

  “At first, but then she decided that she wouldn’t be able to handle the critics. She said that if she was singled out for a poor performance, or if the movie flopped, she’d blame herself. Unfortunately, she does have a thin skin. But that’s something that will improve as she matures. I’m in my sixties and I don’t give a hoot what people think of me anymore.” Esme attempts a laugh, but it comes out as a sob.

  Nate feels for her. He tries to change the subject. “It’s tidy in here for a kid’s room.”

  “I tidied it when she left for camp,” says Anna.

  They all turn around. Nate hadn’t heard her join them.

  “It’s the only opportunity I’ve had for a while to give it a proper clean.” She leans against the door frame. “My husband might sound sure of himself, but we really don’t know where Jennifer could be. He’s trying to pretend everything is okay because he’s worried about Esme’s health.”

  They all look at Esme, who appears almost ashamed at being a bother.

  “Being outnumbered by three women, he likes to take care of us and perhaps underestimates our ability to cope. Don’t judge him as uncaring or delusional. Knowing he can’t help his daughter is hard on him, so he’s pretending he isn’t too worried yet. As you don’t have children, you won’t know how it feels when your child goes missing.” Anna pauses. “I’m not going to lie: Jennifer can be challenging at times, and if she has run away just to get some attention, I’ll find it hard to forgive the pain she’s caused. Perhaps she’s figured out she’ll be in trouble for that, and that’s why she’s staying away. But whatever she’s done, I still want her home. It’s unbearable not knowing where she is. Please find her as soon as possible.” She breaks down and covers her face.

  Esme hugs her tight whilst holding back her own tears, and Nate notices that even Madison is struggling to remain composed. He takes that as their cue to leave. He indicates to Madison and they make their way downstairs, where Grant lets them out.

  “I’ll be in touch,” Nate says, shaking his hand. “Call me if you hear from Jenny or the police.”

  “We will.”

  Nate senses exhaustion coming from Grant, and realizes how much this family are suffering.

  Thirteen

  When they leave the Lucas house, Madison opens the trunk of Nate’s car to get her bottled water. She leans against the car as she drinks. “I can’t take this heat.”

  Nate slips his shades on. “It’s beautiful. You don’t like summer?”

  She looks up at the house and realizes they’re being watched by Esme from the front window. “I think we’d better leave.”

  Nate follows her gaze and they hear the sound of the electric gates opening behind them.

  Once they’re on the road, the coastal breeze through the windows feels good on her face.

  “What did you make of the family?” asks Nate.

  She thinks about it. “Esme’s a little high-strung and the parents are standoffish, but most families are when their kids go missing. They don’t know who to trust and it’s not like they get a manual on how to react. Some families court the media, others hide in their shock. The husband was somewhat domineering over his wife and I sense the grandmother knows more than she’s letting on. We need to secure her confidence so she’s honest with us sooner rather than later.”

  “Okay,” says Nate. “Maybe Grant’s a control freak and Jenny ran away to escape her dad. I know my room didn’t look that tidy when I was a kid.”

  Madison smiles, remembering how messy Owen’s bedroom was. She misses tidying up after him. She misses everything about him and realizes she might not even recognize him the next time they meet. Before she can dwell on it, she pushes him from her thoughts. “If Jenny vanished from the lakeside after swimming, it could mean that she fell into the lake by accident after everyone left, in which case she drowned. But the fact she might have slept alone at the campfire is worrying, because it would have been easy for someone to grab her. I guess until we get there we won’t know what the campsite is like and how accessible it is to outsiders. If she was abducted by someone, they had a good head start, with about fifteen hours between when Jenny was last seen and when the cops were called.” She shakes her head. “And that was two weeks ago. They could be anywhere by now.”

  “If she’s in the lake, wouldn’t her body have emerged before now?” asks Nate.

  She nods. “I’m pretty sure the police would’ve sent divers down to look for her body, but lakes are difficult to search. There’s usually a lot of debris down there: fallen branches, discarded garbage and dead animals. Her body could be trapped under something.”

  “What about her missing backpack?”

  “That could’ve just been stolen by one of the other kids, or maybe it was never with her. We’re relying on the memories of children, remember.”

  Nate focuses on the road signs.

  “Have you ever been here before?” she asks.

  “No. I don’t know any of California well.” When he gets onto the correct exit, he seems to relax. “I think the best chance we’ve got of knowing what happened is to speak to the staff and the kids who were there that night. With a little luck, the other parents didn’t pull their kids out of camp after her disappearance. Someone must’ve seen something. Kids don’t just vanish without a trace.”

  Madison looks at him. “I can tell you’ve never been a cop.”

  He smiles. “Thanks. That’s a huge compliment.”

  “I didn’t mean it to be.” She lets the dig slide. “You’re being naïve, Nate. People vanish without a trace every day. If the police didn’t find Jennifer Lucas, it’s unlikely we will, unless we get lucky. We need to investigate a potential motive for her disappearance first of all.”

  Nate takes his eyes off the road and glances at her. “You’re already convinced she was abducted?”

  She nods. “If there’s no body at the scene, she’s probably been taken.”

  He thinks about it. “Are tracking apps on cell phones really a thing?”

  She smiles. He’s so out of touch. “Sure. I’d use one if…” She stops herself. “But I know from working with detectives in the past that these app companies do not like giving out users’ data. Just like the social media giants don’t like giving police access to people’s accounts, even when the user’s life is a
t risk. It’s disgusting, if you ask me, and hopefully that’ll change at some point, as I believe it could save lives by helping us find missing kids quicker. But in Jennifer Lucas’s case, her dad said her cell phone was found switched off in her cabin, so it’s unlikely to yield anything important about her current location. It would be interesting to read her text messages, though, and to see if she’s got any social media accounts.”

  “Surely she’s too young for those?”

  Madison rolls her eyes. “Not really, Grandpa! Sure, there’s a minimum age, but all the kids are doing it. Most parents don’t even vet their accounts. How do you think pedophiles get away with grooming kids online?”

  Nate shakes his head.

  She types the zip code of the summer camp into the sat nav. “Shit, it’s an eleven-hour drive. I’m glad you’ve got A/C in this thing.”

  “We can stop for breaks along the way. Why don’t you find us a motel to stay at when we get there?”

  She calculates what time they’re likely to reach Shadow Falls. “If we stop for breaks, we’re not going to arrive until about three in the morning, and if we hit traffic, it could be even later. It’s not worth wasting money on a motel room for less than half a night.”

  He looks over at her and she can tell he’s trying to figure her out. “Money’s that bad?”

  “What do you think?”

  He doesn’t smile and she knows it’s because he’s been there. She can only imagine how it felt for him to be handed a substantial payout. The relief must’ve been immense.

  “I’m not asking for money,” she clarifies. “I just don’t want to waste mine on a room for a couple of hours’ sleep. I’ll sleep in the car, or stay awake. I can find you a room, though?”

  He looks back at the road. “I think you’re right. Let’s see what time we get there before we think about sleeping. Maybe we can head straight into camp and see who’s around. We can always catch up on sleep tomorrow night. You could even grab a couple of hours while I drive if you like.”