Caitlin looked at him ruefully.
‘You’ll get it back,’ he assured her.
Caitlin sighed. It wasn’t the phone that mattered. It was that letting go of it felt like letting go of Geordie. She knew that it made no sense. She closed her eyes, and handed it over.
The trip downtown was fast. They traveled with red lights flashing and the siren blaring. Caitlin sat in the back seat, while Officer Wheatley talked on the radio in the front, and his partner drove.
A man walking his dog stared at the squad car as they reached the station, trying to peer in at the criminal who was being brought in. He walked away, disappointed, when Officer Wheatley opened the car door for Caitlin politely.
Escorted by the two officers, Caitlin went up the steps and into the old sandstone police station. They hurried her past the evening’s crew of officers on duty and miscreants who looked at her curiously. They arrived at Chief Burns’s office and knocked on the door. They were told to enter.
Chief Burns sat behind his desk, and Sam Mathis stood beside him. Noah was seated in a chair in front of the desk. He looked at her as she walked in, his gaze wary but hopeful. A young man in street clothes stood by the American flag in the corner, his arms folded across his chest.
Caitlin spoke directly to her husband. ‘Noah,’ she cried. ‘He called me. Not half an hour ago.’
Chief Burns held up a hand to silence her. ‘Where is the phone?’ he said.
Officer Wheatley held up a plastic bag with the phone in it.
‘Give it to Detective Thurman there.’ He pointed to the young man by the flag. Officer Wheatley handed the detective the phone. Thurman took it and left the room.
‘Thank you, officers. Wait outside, please. Close the door.’
Caitlin sensed the negative current in the room. No one offered her a seat. She looked at Noah. He looked away from her.
‘What’s going on here?’ she asked.
‘Tell us what happened,’ said Chief Burns. Caitlin noted the lack of pleasantries, the chill in his voice.
‘My phone rang. I answered it. And I heard Geordie’s voice.’
‘What did he say?’ Sam asked.
‘He said, “Hi, Mom,” she recounted, and then, almost to her embarrassment, she started to weep. Noah was leaning forward, gripping the arms of his chair as if he was going to stand up, but he remained seated.
Caitlin wiped her eyes and tried to compose herself. ‘He asked where his father was. I said he wasn’t with me at the moment. I asked him where he was, and if he was all right. He said he couldn’t talk. That was it. That was all.’
‘Did you look at the number he was calling from?’ Sam asked.
‘Of course,’ said Caitlin. ‘I didn’t recognize it.’
‘Area code?’
‘It wasn’t local. I tried to call him back. The phone rang and rang.’
‘Detective Thurman is our electronics expert. He’s going to determine exactly where the last call on your phone originated,’ said Sam, who spoke in a kinder tone than the chief.
‘Can he do that?’ Caitlin asked.
‘If there was such a call,’ said Chief Burns.
Caitlin looked at the chief, startled. ‘Excuse me?’ she said.
The chief did not reply.
‘Do you think I would lie about this?’ She turned and looked at her husband. ‘Do you? Noah?’
Noah did not meet her gaze.
‘Geordie called me, goddammit. I heard his voice.’
‘It could have been a prank,’ said Sam, with a hint of apology in his tone. ‘People do some really rotten things around a crime like this.’
‘No,’ she insisted. ‘It was Geordie.’
‘I sincerely hope so,’ said Chief Burns.
‘I know so,’ Caitlin cried. ‘I know my own . . . boy.’
‘I keep asking myself, why would he call you and not his father?’ said the chief.
Caitlin stuck out her chin. ‘Meaning, because I’m not his “real” parent?’
‘Yes, frankly,’ said the chief.
‘Sometimes his father is in court, or can’t be reached. He knows that he can call me if he needs me for any reason. He has my number memorized. For emergencies,’ said Caitlin evenly.
Chief Burns sat back in his chair, his hands folded over the belt buckle of his uniform. ‘Kind of makes you a hero, doesn’t it? Being the one to hear from the victim. The one chosen to receive that call which, by your own admission, gave us virtually no information about his condition or his whereabouts.’
‘I asked him those things. We were cut off immediately. As if someone were right there with him, monitoring what he said.’
The chief frowned. ‘So, why would the captor allow him to make such a call at all? Just to let you know he was doing OK?’
‘I don’t know,’ Caitlin protested. ‘I have no idea how someone like that would think. I’m just telling you what happened.’
‘I learned today,’ said Chief Burns, ‘that you have already thwarted one police investigation, Mrs Eckhart. Naturally, as a result, I am somewhat skeptical . . .’
Caitlin looked at him defiantly. ‘I’m telling the truth.’
The phone rang on Burns’s desk and he picked it up. ‘That was quick,’ he said to the caller. He listened quietly to what his caller was saying. ‘All right. Keep after it.’
Burns hung up the phone. ‘That was Detective Thurman. The call was made from a tracfone purchased in Chicago.’
‘Chicago,’ Caitlin groaned.
‘So we know he is in Chicago?’ Noah exclaimed.
‘We know the phone was purchased there,’ Chief Burns said cautiously. ‘We’ll contact the Chicago police and put them on high alert. In the meantime, we’ll attempt to trace the phone to the store where it was purchased.’
‘A tracfone,’ said Noah. ‘People buy those things and throw them away.’
‘That’s correct,’ said Burns.
‘Is it possible to trace the place where it was purchased?’ Noah asked.
‘It is possible,’ said Burns. ‘But with a throwaway phone, that information can be misleading. For example, a person could use a tracfone to call their own cell phone.’ The chief turned back to Caitlin. ‘Is that what you did, Mrs Eckhart? Did you buy a phone and call your own number?’
Caitlin’s mouth fell open. ‘I can’t believe . . . Why would I do such a thing?’
‘I’m just asking,’ he said. ‘Because there’s a level at which this doesn’t make any sense. The only way the boy could have a tracfone is if his captor bought it and let him use it. And why would he do that? Why would he want us to know that Geordie is alive? There’s been no ransom demand. What else could a call like that serve?’
Caitlin did not want him to see how bitterly painful his words were to her. ‘I understand what you’re saying. I understand that it sounds bizarre. But the answer to your question is “no.” I did not buy a tracfone and call my own phone. I have never even been in Chicago,’ she said evenly.
Chief Burns regarded her coolly. ‘An associate, perhaps . . .’
She reached out and put a hand on Noah’s shoulder He flinched, as if he had been burned. He looked up at her.
She met his agitated gaze. ‘I don’t care what they think. But I do care if you believe me. Listen to me, Noah. No matter how angry you might be at me, you know I wouldn’t lie about this. You know that. And I’m telling you. He’s alive. Geordie is alive.’
Tears rushed to his eyes and he blinked them back, looking both skeptical and wildly hopeful.
Chief Burns cleared his throat. ‘Sam, escort Mrs Eckhart out of my office. Tell Officer Wheatley to drive her back to her house.’
Caitlin let go of Noah’s shoulder and let herself be led out into the waiting area. Sam Mathis spoke to Officer Wheatley, who approached her.
‘I’ll take you home now,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ said Caitlin. She went out to the patrol car and got back inside. All the way bac
k to her parents’ house she kept thinking about Geordie’s voice on the phone, and the look in Noah’s eyes at the station.
He is alive, she thought. You have an advantage over the others because you know that it’s true. Hold onto that.
When they arrived back at the house Caitlin thanked him for the ride. She heard him pulling out. It wasn’t until she was lying in bed, huddled under the covers still in her clothes, that she remembered. They had kept her phone. She had no phone. If Geordie tried to call again . . . Despite her exhaustion, she tossed and turned, sleepless until dawn.
THIRTEEN
Caitlin awoke after an hour’s sleep to a gray day and the sound of someone knocking on the front door. She forced herself to get out of the bed and pull on some clothes. Then she shuffled down the hallway to the front door. When she opened it, she immediately noticed the tow truck in the driveway.
‘Mrs Eckhart,’ said the officer standing in front of her. ‘We’ve come to impound the truck. Can you sign this please?’
Bleary-eyed, Caitlin signed the form on the clipboard, and then closed the door to avoid watching the men in the tow truck begin their work. They would haul it away and analyze it, and maybe, as a result, she would face being arrested. It was a sickening thought, but no worse than the thought that Geordie was still missing, or the memory of Noah recoiling from her. They would be going through this whole dreary, empty day of waiting separately. No comfort. No love. Stop, she thought. Remember this: Geordie is still alive. Nothing else mattered. As of last night, anyway, Geordie was still alive.
With that thought for consolation she went into the kitchen, where she rummaged in the cupboards. There was no coffee, and even if there had been, she knew her queasy stomach wouldn’t be able to tolerate it black. She opened a box of cereal, a year past it’s sell-by date, plunged her hand into the box and pulled out a handful. She tried to chew and swallow it dry. The cereal tasted like faded wallpaper.
I can’t do this, she thought. I can’t subsist on expired food and hide in this house. She reminded herself that there were things she needed to do. Go and get your phone back, she thought. Go and bite the bullet. Go and explain to Emily’s family the truth about what happened to their sister and their daughter. They deserve to know, and you have to be the one to tell them. Take this day in hand, before you end up hiding under the covers, paralyzed by your own misery. She threw the box of cereal into the garbage and turned out the light in the kitchen.
At the police station they made her wait for almost an hour, but she emerged from the station with her phone back in her bag. It felt like a victory, however minor. She stood on the station house steps and tried to decide what to do next. Her stomach was gnawing at her, and she suddenly realized that she could not go any farther until she fed herself. She descended the steps and turned in the direction of Jordan’s Bakery.
Haley was behind the counter when she walked in, and her face lit up at the sight of Caitlin. Caitlin sat down at the one of the little round marble-topped tables and settled herself while Haley dispatched the customer she was waiting on.
‘Is this a visit, or are you here to eat?’ Haley called out to her friend.
‘Both,’ said Caitlin.
‘What can I get you?’
‘Coffee and a roll,’ said Caitlin.
‘Done,’ said Haley. She busied herself behind the counter, and then emerged carrying a steaming mug and a plate with a golden brioche on it. Haley was wearing her kitchen apron which was spotted with jam and chocolate. She set the plate down on Caitlin’s table, and then slipped into the seat beside her. She squeezed Caitlin’s hand.
‘Is there any news?’
Caitlin fussed with her coffee, realizing how difficult it was going to be to begin to reveal the connection between her brother and Emily’s death. The words still stuck in her throat. Luckily, there was news, and she was glad to be able to tell it to someone who would believe her. ‘Last night, Geordie called me,’ she said.
‘Oh my God!’ Haley cried. ‘Oh my God. Did you tell the police? Do you know where he was calling from?’
Caitlin held up a hand to stem the flow of questions. ‘Yes, I told the police right away. It was the briefest of calls. He couldn’t tell me anything. And then the call ended. But it was Geordie.’
‘Thank God,’ said Haley. ‘Oh, I’ve got to call Dan. He’ll be over the moon.’
‘Don’t call anybody just yet,’ Caitlin said. ‘I’m not sure how the police want to handle this. Apparently it was a throwaway phone.’ She decided not to mention that the phone was purchased in Chicago. She wasn’t sure what the police considered public knowledge and what was confidential.
‘Oh, no,’ said Haley. ‘Damn.’
Caitlin broke off some of the brioche and ate it, and washed it down with Haley’s vanilla-scented coffee. ‘He’s alive, Haley. That’s what I have to hold onto.’
‘You’re right. That’s what’s important. Someone should really tell the Bergens. They’re desperate for news.’
‘Noah may have already called them,’ said Caitlin.
‘Where is Noah?’
Caitlin pressed her lips together, trying to force a smile. ‘I’m not sure. We’ve had a . . . parting of the ways.’
Haley gaped at her in disbelief. ‘The two of you . . .? I don’t believe it.’
Caitlin nodded. ‘We’re under a lot of stress.’
‘It’s hard not to fight, I’m sure.’
Caitlin left it at that. ‘I’ve moved back into my parents’ house for the time being. It’s still on the market so it was empty . . .’
‘That must be depressing,’ Haley observed.
‘Oh, that doesn’t begin to describe it,’ said Caitlin.
‘I’ll bet,’ said Haley.
‘So, I think I’m going to drive out and see the Eckharts myself. I . . . need to talk to them, anyway.’
Haley seemed to find this perfectly natural. ‘I want to send them some apple cake. Westy loves my apple cake. Will you bring it out there to them?’
‘With pleasure,’ said Caitlin.
Haley nodded and got up. ‘I’ll be right back with it,’ she said.
That’s what I have to do next, Caitlin thought. Just get it over with. Whether or not there was a criminal case against her, Caitlin thought, she couldn’t escape her moral responsibility. She had known the circumstances of Emily’s death all this time. It was up to her to tell Emily’s parents and her brother the truth, and ask for their forgiveness. Telling Dan would require a trip to Philly. She would start with Westy and Paula. They would be the worst, after Noah. Maybe even worse than Noah, she thought. Now that she had learned, because of Geordie, how it felt to be a mother, she understood that there could be no greater loss than the loss of a child. She shuddered with the dread of what she had to say to Emily’s parents. But she couldn’t avoid it any longer.
Haley came back to the table with a white box tied with twine. ‘Yoo hoo,’ she said. ‘You look like you’re miles away.’
‘I am,’ Caitlin admitted with a sigh.
Haley handed her the box. ‘Apple cake for Westy,’ she said.
‘I’ll deliver,’ said Caitlin, getting up from her chair. She walked over to the cash register and took out her wallet.
Haley waved her off. ‘No, no, put that away. You’re family.’
Kind as they were meant to be, the words sounded almost ominous to Caitlin’s ears. Sooner or later, she would have to tell Haley the truth as well.
The house where the Bergens lived sat on a low rise and their property sloped down to the shores of a marshy lake. At the edge of the lake was Westy’s workshop, surrounded by a railing that boasted several telescopes pointed out over the water. An aluminum canoe and its paddles sat upside down on the shore. The yard was beautifully landscaped with gardens and trees and was studded with elaborate birdhouses on poles which Westy had made in that workshop. As she drove onto their property Caitlin was struck by the peaceful charm of the setting. The Ber
gens’ house was probably built in the Colonial era, and had been carefully restored. Paula had a greenhouse out beside the main house, and everything about the place, thanks to Westy, was carefully tended and perfectly maintained.
As she pulled into the driveway, she was surprised to see Travis in the front yard, desultorily raking the leaves into piles which seemed to scatter as soon as he collected them. Caitlin got out of the car and lifted the box of apple cake off the front seat.
‘Hi, Travis,’ she said. ‘Don’t you have school?’
‘Half day,’ said Travis.
‘Nice of you to help out with the leaves,’ she said.
‘She’s paying me five bucks.’
‘Mrs Bergen?’
‘Yeah,’ he said.
She’s being robbed, Caitlin thought, as Travis dragged the rake through a pile of leaves he had already collected. ‘I brought an apple cake,’ she said. ‘Maybe you could have some.’
Travis shrugged, but Caitlin could see that the burly kid was definitely interested.
Paula came to the front door and opened it. She was stylishly dressed and her hair was highlighted and cut in a fashionable coif, but there were huge dark circles under her eyes that gave evidence of how worried she was. ‘Caitlin. Come in. I’m sorry. This place is a wreck. I don’t get anything done all day. All I do is worry. I’ve been trying to work from home just in case we hear something. I can’t go to the office. I just can’t manage it.’
‘Me neither,’ said Caitlin.
Caitlin followed Paula into the house. Paula’s idea of a ‘wreck’ was a mystery to Caitlin. The place looked pristine. The ceilings of the old house were low and there was a hearth in the living room which took up most of one wall. There were flowering plants on every windowsill, and prints and watercolors of birds decorated the walls. On the mantle were family photos. Emily, Noah and Geordie when Geordie was born. Dan and Haley’s wedding. Westy and Paula on an anniversary. To look at all those smiling faces, you would never know what disaster had ensued. ‘You have such a lovely house,’ she said.
‘Thank you, dear. Come in the kitchen. I’m making Westy his tea.’
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