Missing Child

by Patricia MacDonald

  ‘That’s a possibility,’ said Sam. ‘Maybe now the school will get serious about it.’

  ‘Too late,’ Noah said.

  The evening was long and miserable. No ransom call came, though everyone jumped when the phone rang. Mostly it was other people in town who had heard the news on television or through the grapevine. A child had gone missing from Hartwell Elementary School. That information spread from one home to another in no time, and there were a lot of people who sincerely wanted to help. Their calls were dispatched instantly to keep the line free.

  At around nine o’clock, Paula and Westy arrived, driven over by one of the officers assigned to their house. Paula announced that she had made food.

  ‘She couldn’t help herself,’ Westy explained. ‘It’s how she deals with stress.’

  Paula took the lid off her casserole, and began dishing it out of plastic plates.

  Noah just stared at it, as if the very sight of food was sickening. On the other hand, the police officers who were coming and going did not need to be asked more than once to take a plate and the serving dishes were empty in no time. The coffee pot held only dregs. Westy sat with Noah, who sat staring blankly ahead, while Caitlin joined Paula in the kitchen and helped her to clean up and organize her kitchen gear.

  ‘I wish I could do more to help,’ said Paula.

  ‘Bringing all this food was a help,’ said Caitlin.

  ‘Haley called. She talked to Dan.’

  ‘Noah did, too,’ said Caitlin.

  ‘I thought Naomi would be here,’ said Paula.

  Caitlin shrugged. ‘She called to say that Travis was too upset about Geordie to come over.’

  Paula looked skeptical. ‘Really?’

  ‘Probably feels guilty for having picked on Geordie so much,’ said Caitlin, putting Paula’s casserole dish back in her carrier bag.

  ‘Well, that boy hasn’t had an easy time of it,’ said Paula. ‘Losing his father in the war like that. And then his mother was depressed for such a long time. All she ever did was sit with her nose in a book.’

  ‘I know. But sometimes I get so mad because Naomi won’t scold Travis no matter how badly he treats Geordie,’ said Caitlin. ‘Noah won’t either. He feels too sorry for him.’

  ‘We’ve all tried to help Naomi out with that child. It hasn’t been easy for them,’ said Paula. ‘We try to include him whenever we can.’

  Caitlin felt as if she had been unkind. ‘I know you have. And Noah really appreciates it.’

  Paula suddenly lifted a soapy hand from the dishwater and patted Caitlin on the forearm. ‘Thank heavens Noah has you,’ she said.

  Caitlin tried to smile as Emily’s mother looked at her with such kindness in her gaze. ‘That’s really nice of you,’ said Caitlin. ‘I mean, especially because . . . because of Emily.’

  ‘Well, it’s not as if it’s your fault. It was just a horrible, horrible thing that happened to my Emily. But I know my girl is up in heaven, and I’m sure she’s happy that Noah and Geordie have someone like you in their lives. I just feel it.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ Caitlin whispered. She could barely speak. Paula is right, she reminded herself. It’s not your fault. But it didn’t matter what she told herself. She felt as if guilt was rising in her throat, and choking off her breath.

  SIX

  Geordie was running down a strand of sunny beach. The water was silvery and calm. The sand was a shade of dusty bisque but, as he ran, his heavy sneakers did not kick up a cloud of it. His backpack bounced against his hoody as he went. ‘Geordie,’ Caitlin whispered. He did not turn around to look at her, but kept on running. She tried to call out to him but her voice, no matter how she tried, would make nothing more than a squeak. She tried to run after him but she was frozen in place, and he was disappearing into the distance.

  Caitlin awoke. Gray light was filtering through the space between the curtains. Day. As soon as she woke up, she remembered. No word from him. No ransom demand. No sightings of him. Nothing. Nearly twenty-four hours had passed. Geordie was still gone. He had vanished completely, as if he had never existed.

  Caitlin rolled over in bed and saw that Noah’s side of the bed was empty. She was not surprised. Still in her clothes, she had succumbed to exhaustion at about five o’clock in the morning. Obviously, he did not join her. She could hear voices in the other room.

  There was no excited note from those voices. No one had come to wake her. That had to mean that there was no news. By yesterday afternoon a search had been mounted with volunteers from all over Hartwell willingly giving up their time. It had gone on late into the night. The leaders of each group of searchers reported in at regular intervals. Noah and Caitlin had wanted to join the search. Sam advised them that they needed to stay right there in the house.

  Caitlin let herself think about Geordie. Yesterday, of course, she spent the whole day thinking of Geordie. But that wasn’t exactly true. They all spent the whole day thinking about what might have happened to Geordie. Going over mugshots, and surveillance footage, and teacher’s statements and neighbor’s statements. It was like an invisible puzzle that the police were trying to reconstruct out of thin air. They thought about different aspects of the puzzle. But they tried not to think about Geordie.

  At one point she went into Geordie’s room and stood there, gazing at his belongings. Noah angrily told her to get away from the door. ‘Why?’ she had demanded.

  ‘You look as if you’re . . . remembering him,’ he said. She understood his anguish, and closed the door to the room. Geordie existed somewhere out there in the wide world. Not in memory. He wouldn’t allow it.

  Now, lying there, looking at the band of gray light at her window, Caitlin allowed herself to think of him. His small, earnest, bespectacled face. His high voice. His giggle. The way he concentrated. The way his teeth, present and absent, took up all his mouth when he grinned. As she pictured Geordie, tears seeped from her eyes and ran down her face into the pillow. She began to gulp back sobs until it was becoming difficult to breathe.

  ‘Caitlin,’ Noah’s voice called out. ‘Are you awake?’

  ‘Yes,’ she called back, her voice thick.

  ‘Haley’s here.’

  Haley. Caitlin could picture her friend’s sweet, earnest round face, her blond hair, her clothes dusted with flour. It would be good to see Haley, she thought. Get out of bed, she told herself. Change your clothes. Go out there.

  She forced herself out of the bed. She went to her closet, took off yesterday’s rumpled suit and silk shirt and left them where they fell on the floor of the closet. She pulled out leggings, knit boots, a sweatshirt tunic. Clothes for warmth. Clothes for comfort. She put them on, brushed her hair up into a loose ponytail and looked at herself in the mirror over her dresser. Her face was gaunt and gray, her cheekbones jutting out from beneath her dark eyes. Her hair, normally coffee-colored and shiny, looked dull and lifeless. Caitlin turned away from the mirror. With an effort, she opened the door and left the bedroom.

  Noah was seated at the kitchen table with Haley. He looked up at Caitlin, who had appeared in the doorway. ‘Hi, sweetheart,’ he said. Haley got up from the chair and came around to where Caitlin stood. The two women embraced, and Haley rubbed Caitlin’s back briskly, helplessly.

  ‘How are you holding up?’

  ‘One foot in front of the other,’ said Caitlin.

  ‘I brought sticky buns,’ said Haley, pointing to her gooey confections on a doily-topped plate sharing space with paper coffee cups, notepads, and newspapers on the surface of the kitchen table.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Caitlin. ‘You’re so good.’

  ‘I didn’t know what else to do.’

  ‘That was exactly what we needed. They’ll all get eaten, believe me,’ said Caitlin, thinking of the cops who were coming and going from the house.

  ‘Well, I know everybody says this, but if there’s anything more I can do . . .’

  Caitlin hugged her friend again. ‘I know
you mean it.’

  ‘I’m gonna go but . . .’ Haley made a phone receiver out of her hand and held it to her face.

  Caitlin nodded. ‘I’ll walk to the door with you.’

  Caitlin led Haley through the house, past the two cops who were poring over computer printouts in the living room. ‘Good morning,’ she said.

  They nodded gravely as Caitlin walked by. She and Haley stopped at the front door, as Caitlin held it open.

  ‘I can see you’ve been crying,’ said Haley sympathetically, squeezing Caitlin’s hand.

  ‘I was dreaming of Geordie,’ she said.

  ‘They’ll find him, Caitlin. They have to.’ The two women embraced again, and then Haley headed out to her delivery van, passing Sam Mathis who had just arrived in the driveway and was coming up the walk.

  ‘Anything?’ Caitlin asked him.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Sam.

  ‘Really?’ Caitlin cried. ‘What?’

  Sam did not reply but walked through the house to the kitchen. Caitlin followed him, and sat down beside Noah at the kitchen table. Caitlin pulled her folded legs up to her chest and rested her feet on the chair seat beneath her.

  ‘They might know something,’ she said to Noah.

  Noah looked up. Before he could blurt out his question, Sam raised his hands as if to calm their expectations.

  ‘A teacher’s aide who is new to the school came forward. She’s young – just out of college – and she doesn’t know Geordie so she couldn’t be sure. But she was coming out of the ladies’ room on the morning of the festival and she saw a boy matching Geordie’s description – a boy with glasses, skinny, wearing a hoody, leaving the auditorium with a man in a ball cap.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ Caitlin gasped.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Noah demanded, jumping up. ‘Was he being dragged away? Why didn’t she stop him?’

  Sam shook his head. ‘The child appeared to be accompanying the man willingly. It seemed perfectly innocent. She thought it was a parent, walking the child back to his class.’

  ‘And she’s sure it was Geordie?’ Noah demanded.

  ‘As I said, she doesn’t know Geordie, so she couldn’t be sure.’

  ‘Jesus,’ said Noah.

  Caitlin briefly rested her forehead on her knees.

  ‘What did the man look like?’ Noah demanded. ‘Young, old, what?’

  ‘She only saw them from behind,’ said Sam.

  ‘Did she see them leave the school?’ Noah persisted.

  ‘No. She said the only reason she noticed them at all was because the man was wearing an Eagles cap, and she’s an Eagles fan. She just noticed it in passing.’

  ‘She and every other football fan in South Jersey,’ Noah said disgustedly.

  ‘I have to ask,’ said Sam. ‘Do you have an Eagles cap?’

  ‘Do I?’ Noah cried, his eyes widening.

  Sam’s gaze did not waver.

  ‘Yes. Of course I have an Eagles cap,’ said Noah. ‘Don’t you?’

  Sam did not reply. ‘We’ve asked the witness if she is willing to be hypnotized, to see if she can recall any more details. She said she would be.’

  ‘Does that work?’ Caitlin asked.

  ‘In some cases, it’s been helpful,’ said Sam.

  ‘And in others, it’s a complete waste of time,’ Noah said in a hopeless tone.

  ‘Testimony under hypnosis isn’t even admissible in court.’

  ‘We’re not in court,’ said Sam. ‘We’re trying to find your boy.’

  Noah sighed. ‘I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m just so frustrated.’

  ‘Someone took him,’ Caitlin whispered. The idea of her son being led off by a stranger to God knows where . . . Her heart felt like it was being crushed by fear. She glanced at Noah, her eyes wide. She saw the answering fear in his gaze.

  ‘We don’t know for sure that it was Geordie,’ Sam cautioned them. ‘I have my detectives checking to see if any kids were taken out of school that morning by a parent for any reason. Meanwhile,’ said Sam, ‘I was talking it over with the chief and we think it’s time to make a direct appeal.

  ‘One, or both of you, can prepare statements to read in front of the television camera. Basically, you’ll be asking for anyone who might know anything to come forward. All you want is your child back. No questions asked.’

  ‘Like hell they’ll be no questions asked,’ said Noah.

  ‘We’re trying to lure anyone who may know something out of the shadows,’ said Sam.

  ‘I know, I know,’ said Noah. ‘I understand.’

  ‘Also, you want to appeal to Geordie, in case there is a TV on wherever he is being held. Urge him to call you. The numbers will run constantly on the screen.’

  ‘He knows our numbers,’ said Caitlin.

  ‘Just in case,’ said Sam.

  ‘We’ll do it,’ said Noah grimly.

  ‘Caitlin?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘When can we do this?’ Noah asked.

  ‘As soon as possible,’ said Sam. ‘The sooner the better.’

  ‘Make it happen,’ said Noah.

  ‘All right then,’ said Sam, getting up from the table. ‘I’m going to set it up. Excuse me.’ He pulled out his phone and began to tap in numbers.

  Caitlin looked at her husband. He had not shaved, and he was wearing a sweatshirt over the dress shirt he had worn to court yesterday, before their world collapsed. His cheeks were sunken and his complexion had a yellowish cast.

  He smelled stale, like sheets left too long on the bed.

  She reached her hand out and put it over his. Their eyes met briefly, and then he shook his head and looked away.

  At that moment, Sam Mathis came back into the room. ‘All right. It’s all set for . . .’ He glanced at his phone. ‘Two hours from now.’

  ‘Do these appeals ever work?’ Noah asked angrily.

  ‘Well, there’s no guarantee. But you never know what you’re going to shake out with one of these,’ said Sam.

  ‘We have to try,’ said Caitlin.

  ‘Anything,’ Noah agreed.

  Sam Mathis had warned them that the TV studio would be crowded with police and reporters, but they were unprepared for the crush of people who had assembled to hear them plead for information. Sam instructed them not to speak to individual reporters, but to simply deliver their prepared statements.

  Caitlin held Noah’s hand as they sat down behind the bank of microphones at the cloth-covered table. The lights all around them were blinding. Noah was asked to sit in the chair beside an easel bearing an enlargement of Geordie’s photo, and Caitlin was directed to the seat on his left. Sam Mathis stood at the microphone and called the noisy crowd to order.

  ‘As you all know,’ Sam said, surveying the room with his gaze, ‘George Eckhart, six years old, known as Geordie, disappeared from the Hartwell Elementary School yesterday morning. He was last seen entering the school that morning by his stepmother, Caitlin Eckhart.’ At this Sam nodded in Caitlin’s direction. She wasn’t sure how to respond. A wave? A smile? Nothing could seem less appropriate, she thought. She licked her lips and stared straight ahead.

  ‘We’ve asked his parents to address you all today, to ask the public for some help with this baffling disappearance. If you have seen George Eckhart, there is a number on your screen for you to call. Please don’t hesitate. Even if you’re not sure, we welcome any tips you might be able to provide for us. Anything at all. Call the number on your screen. Write it down. Geordie’s life may depend on it.’ He turned to Noah. ‘Mr Eckhart? Would you like to speak first?’

  Noah nodded and cleared his throat. He had showered, shaved and put on a clean shirt and a tweed jacket. He looked almost presentable, but for the circles under his eyes and the lack of color in his skin. Caitlin was glad he was speaking first. She was not normally shy, but today her stomach was in spasms, and she wasn’t sure that any sound would come out when she opened her mouth.

  That would no
t be a problem for Noah, she thought. He was used to being in court, speaking to crowds. He never had a moment’s stage fright. He would speak calmly, persuasively. But when he opened his mouth, she felt almost alarmed by the halting way he began. It seemed to be torture for him to release each word of his statement. ‘My son, Geordie,’ he said, ‘is only six years old. He is a wonderful little boy who never hurt anyone in his life. I’m speaking now to the . . . person who took my son from me. From us. Please, I don’t know why you took him but, if you have any human decency, I beg you. Let my son go. Let him come home to me. To . . . us. To his . . . to Caitlin and me. We love Geordie more than we can say. I don’t care about punishing you for what you’ve done. Just . . . let Geordie go. Let him come home. Leave him somewhere. Anywhere. I’ll come and get him. Please don’t hurt him. He never hurt anyone. Please.’

  Noah drew back from the microphone and covered his eyes with one hand.

  Sam nodded to Caitlin.

  She wrapped both hands around the microphone, as if it were going to jump up and try to escape. She put her mouth close to it, and she looked straight ahead into the camera, as Sam had told her to do. Her whole body was shaking.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘Geordie, if you are listening to this, if you can see me, I want to tell you something. You are a very brave boy, and a strong boy and I want you to stay brave, and try not to be afraid. We’re going to find you. I promise you. Daddy and I are going to . . . bring you home. You just keep remembering that. We love you more than anything, and don’t you forget that. If you can hear me.

  ‘As for the person who took Geordie . . .’ Her voice trailed off, and she averted her eyes. Sam bent down to her.

  ‘Are you OK?’ he whispered.

  Caitlin nodded and continued: ‘I assume there is something terribly wrong with you, to take an innocent little boy like that from his family. To take him from his school. All I can ask of you, from the bottom of my heart, is that you don’t hurt Geordie, and that you let him go so he can come home. He’s only six years . . . old.’

  Her last words came out in little more than a squeak, like in her dream, when she was trying, in vain, to call out to Geordie. She let go of the microphone and sat back, drained by the effort. Noah put his arm around her, and pulled her to him.