Missing Child

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Missing Child Page 16

by Patricia MacDonald


  Caitlin nodded. ‘Thanks. Are you ready for that?’

  Karla frowned. ‘I think so. They tell you what to study.’

  ‘That’s a good thing to be doing,’ said Caitlin.

  ‘After that I’m going to try to go to college,’ Karla confided.

  ‘Really?’ said Caitlin.

  Karla looked around the tidy house and then leaned toward Caitlin. ‘I don’t want to end up here,’ she said. ‘Or in jail.’

  ‘That’s great,’ Caitlin said. ‘You’ve got plans for yourself.’

  Karla shrugged and smiled. ‘I’ve seen a lot of really bad stuff in my life. So, I’m trying.’

  ‘Good for you,’ said Caitlin. She felt that she had been too harsh on this girl in her thoughts about her. Sometimes people did change.

  ‘So what did you want to ask me?’ Karla asked.

  Caitlin hesitated. ‘I have to admit. I was thinking about James’s accident.’

  ‘I figured it was about that,’ said Karla, and there was a little note of let down in her voice. ‘What did you want to know?’

  ‘Well, I have so many questions. The way you described it the other day. I thought I knew what happened, but now I’m wondering . . . What did he tell you about that day? Can you remember?’

  ‘Oh, yeah. I wouldn’t forget that. He said the woman used him to kill herself.’

  Caitlin recoiled at the bald statement. ‘What?’

  Karla nodded sharply. ‘That’s what he said. He said she ran right out in front of his car. He didn’t have a chance to stop.’

  Emily? Caitlin thought. She remembered what Sam said about the location of the damage to her father’s truck. ‘Are you sure about that?’

  ‘Positive,’ said Karla. ‘I have the letter he sent me about it.’

  Caitlin felt as if an electric charge had surged through her. ‘You do?’

  ‘Yeah. Do you want me to go get it?’

  ‘Would you do that?’

  ‘Sure,’ she said. She got up from her chair and took a moment to peer out the kitchen window. Then she opened the door and screeched again. ‘Cliffie.’

  ‘We’re right here,’ the boy replied in a surly tone.

  ‘Good,’ she said, and slammed the door. She turned to Caitlin. ‘I’ll be right back.’ She disappeared down the dark hallway past the living room. Caitlin didn’t know what to think. James had never said a word to her about anyone running in front of him. Was that true? Or was he lying to Karla?

  Karla returned with the letter, still in its envelope. She handed it to Caitlin. It was addressed, in James’s small handwriting, to Karla Dawson at Hopelight House.

  Caitlin reached into the envelope and hesitated, looking up at Karla. ‘May I?’

  ‘Sure. That’s why I got it for you.’

  Caitlin pulled it out and scanned it, realizing as she did that she was looking at James’s suicide note. My sister will never believe me, he had written. She gave up on me just like my parents. I did take a couple of pills that day, but I wasn’t high when I hit that woman. Driving along, minding my own business and suddenly she flew out from the driveway and right in front of my truck. She looked right at me. I’ll never forget her eyes. Like something in a horror movie. I can’t close my own eyes without seeing her. The sound when the truck hit her was the most sickening thing I can ever remember. I can’t stop hearing it, or seeing her face. I knew right away that it was all over for me. I had killed a person with the car and I had no license. No one would ever believe that she used me like that to off herself. Why would anybody do that? I just kept driving.

  I wish I could be with you. I’m all alone. Something bad is gonna happen. I love you and I’m sorry. James.

  Caitlin read it twice and then looked up at Karla in bewilderment.

  ‘By the time I got it he was already gone,’ said Karla matter-of-factly. ‘You can only get “snail mail” there. Part of the punishment is no computer access. And then, when it comes, they always hold your mail up in that place.’

  Caitlin slowly replaced the letter in the envelope.

  ‘Does that letter tell you what you wanted to know?’ Karla asked.

  Caitlin nodded. ‘In a way.’ She held up the envelope. ‘I know this is very private and I hate to ask this of you, but could I keep this for a while? I’ll get it back to you.’

  ‘You can take it,’ said Karla. ‘James was a part of my other life. I’m not going back there.’

  ‘That’s wise,’ said Caitlin. She slipped the letter into her pocketbook. ‘I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.’

  ‘Glad to help. You know, I always looked up to you. The way you went away to school and all. Once I got straight I thought about you sometimes, and how I’d like to be like you. Only a Christian version of you.’

  Caitlin did not take offense. ‘Actually, I’ve been doing a lot of praying lately.’

  ‘Your boy is still missing?’

  Caitlin nodded.

  ‘I’m praying for him too,’ said Karla. ‘Then she got up and looked out the window again, catching the eye of the children outside and pointing at them.

  Caitlin stood up. ‘I’d better be getting back. It’s a long drive.’ She reached into her pocketbook and pulled out a business card. ‘When you get ready to think about college, get in touch with me. I’m in charge of diversity recruitment at this college. Maybe I can help.’

  ‘That would be awesome. Thanks,’ said Karla, beaming. Then she frowned. ‘Is it a Christian school?’

  ‘Christians go there,’ said Caitlin.

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ Karla said.

  TWENTY

  Despite the fact that she had grown up in Coatesville, Caitlin had no desire to linger once she left Karla’s house. As she drove back toward the highway through the familiar streets, she was not remembering her life in this place. All she was feeling was a distinct unease, being so far away from Hartwell, from the place where Geordie had disappeared. It was more of an instinct than a rational thought. She wanted to be where Geordie could find her if he came back. Even living in her parents’ house made her feel too far away from him. He wouldn’t know to look for her there. He would expect to see her at the home they had shared. Not that he could look for her, Caitlin reminded herself. He was just a little boy. But the thought that he might return, and that she might not be there waiting for him when he did, filled her with a panic that made it hard to breathe.

  She stopped for gas just before she got on the highway, and called Noah while the gas was pumping. His phone went to voicemail. She hesitated, then left a message. ‘Noah,’ she said. ‘Any news about Geordie? Anything? I am in Coatesville, but I am on my way back . . . home,’ she said. ‘Has Sam Mathis called? Did he go to see Dan? I’ll . . . call you later,’ she said.

  She knew that Noah probably didn’t want her to call him but she didn’t care. She had to call and ask. It was the only way to keep the anxiety from overwhelming her. ‘Is your little boy still missing?’ Karla had asked. Yes, she thought. Yes, he was her little boy and, yes, no matter how she wished it weren’t so, he was still missing.

  The tank of her car filled, Caitlin got onto the highway and drove, too fast, toward Hartwell. She kept glancing at her phone, waiting for Noah to return her call, but he did not. Whatever disgust he might have felt about her seemed to be lessening. She realized that he might be too exhausted and depleted over Geordie to sustain his anger towards her. That didn’t mean that he would want her back. She could not force him to forgive her. She wondered what he would think if he learned what James had said about Emily.

  Karla’s account, and James’s letter, seemed to dovetail with what Sam Mathis had discovered about the truck. If Emily had run out in front of the truck she would have been hit squarely in the center of the front bumper and grill. But that didn’t make any sense. Caitlin remembered all too well the news accounts of the hit-and-run. At the time she had pored over the details, virtually memorizing them. Emily had left Geordie asleep
in the car seat.

  Even if she were suicidal, Emily would not have left her sleeping toddler alone, fastened in a car seat with no one to mind him and no means of escape. No suicide could be that impulsive. Caitlin had been Geordie’s mother for two years, and she understood how impossible that would be. A mother was still a mother, no matter what. As far as Caitlin was concerned, that ruled out the possibility of suicide. So, why did Emily run out in front of the truck? What could have possessed her to do something so dangerous? Caitlin wondered.

  She felt as if there was no one she could ask. She could not even breathe Emily’s name to Noah or her parents. But the evidence of the truck supported James’s version. And then another thought occurred to her that made her feel almost faint at the wheel. Sam Mathis had said that it was almost unbelievable, all the terrible things that had happened to Noah. Was it, in fact, an unbelievable coincidence? Could it be that it was not a coincidence at all? Did Emily’s death have something to do with the disappearance of Geordie, all these years later? Was there someone trying to destroy Noah and his family? If you had an enemy that vicious, that determined, wouldn’t you know it?

  The drive, which had seemed interminable going up, flew by on the way home as Caitlin puzzled over these confusing possibilities. Before she knew it, she was exiting the highway and winding south through the wooded countryside. On the outskirts of Hartwell, Caitlin passed several signs indicating the proximity of the County Recycling Center. She thought of Naomi and her free bookstore. If anyone might remember what was going on in Noah’s life in those days, it was Naomi.

  On an impulse, Caitlin turned at the sign for the recycling center, passed through the open chain-link gates, and wended her way down the curving, bumpy dirt road to where the recyclables were collected. There was a manned booth at the entrance. Just beyond the booth was a clearing ringed by enormous dumpsters marked with signs for aluminum, paper and leaves. Next to one of the dumpsters was a mound of discarded appliances, air conditioners and even some furniture. Next to that was a small, neat gray trailer. Caitlin pulled up to the booth and the man within, a hefty guy in filthy canvas coveralls, mild eyes, and frizzy hair beneath a knitted cap.

  ‘You have a sticker?’ he asked.

  Caitlin shook her head.

  ‘Can’t drop stuff off without a sticker,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, I’m not dropping off. I just wanted to visit the free bookstore.’

  The man pointed to an old Airstream trailer. As he did so, Caitlin recognized Naomi’s ancient Volvo parked in front of it. ‘Right in there,’ he said. ‘Closing soon.’

  ‘I’ll be quick,’ said Caitlin. She pulled up beside the Volvo and parked her car. As she got out of her car, Champ suddenly leaped in the back seat of the Volvo and began hurling himself at the smudged up back window, barking at her. Startled, Caitlin jumped back. ‘Easy there, Champ,’ she said as she climbed the steps to the trailer and opened the door.

  The smell of mildew was almost overwhelming in the stuffy space. The trailer was completely lined with shelves, and every shelf had a neatly hand-lettered sign with the type of book it contained and the alphabetical arrangement of authors. Naomi, dressed in coveralls, was down near the end of the trailer, lifting books one by one from a plastic milk crate, examining their jackets and spines, and putting them into their proper place. Travis was sitting on a folding metal chair near the front hunched over a Game Boy. He looked up and glowered at Caitlin as she came through the door.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded.

  ‘Hi, Travis. I came to talk to your mother.’

  Naomi heard the voices from the far end of the trailer and looked up. ‘Caitlin,’ she said. ‘Has something happened?’

  Caitlin shook her head. ‘No. Not really. I just wanted to talk to you.’

  Naomi set the book she was holding back down into the crate and wiped her hands on her coveralls as she walked down between the aisles of books.

  ‘This bookstore is really something,’ Caitlin said. ‘You have done an amazing job here.’

  ‘She loves books,’ Travis said in a tone that was both proud and grumpy at once.

  ‘Guilty,’ said Naomi. ‘I couldn’t bear to see all these books being turned back into mulch. I figured I’d give them another chance at life. Of course, when I started it was just a shelf or two. Now, look.’

  Caitlin nodded. ‘Do a lot of people use it?’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ said Naomi. ‘Weekends I probably give away a hundred or a hundred and fifty books.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Caitlin.

  ‘Do you want to have a look?’ Naomi asked.

  ‘Not today,’ said Caitlin. ‘But I’ll come back when there’s more time.’

  ‘We’ve got some great stuff,’ Naomi said, gazing over the carefully arranged rows of moldy books. ‘So, what’s up? I talked to Noah this morning. He said there’s no news.’

  ‘No. I’m afraid not,’ said Caitlin. ‘I just wanted to ask you something. About Geordie’s mother. About Emily.’

  ‘Emily? What about her?’ Naomi asked. ‘Oh, and by the way, I know about what your brother did.’

  Caitlin was taken aback and her face reddened. ‘I’m so sorry about that, Naomi,’ she said. ‘I should have admitted it from the very beginning. I’m sure you must think the worst of me.’

  Naomi shrugged. ‘It’s a little weird. But I told Noah I would have done the same for him that you did. You were just being loyal to your brother. What good would it do to tell after he was already dead? It couldn’t bring Emily back.’

  Caitlin was surprised. ‘Thanks. That’s really generous of you,’ she said.

  Naomi sighed. ‘None of us is perfect.’

  ‘No,’ said Caitlin.

  ‘So what did you want to know about Emily?’ Naomi asked.

  ‘Oh. Well, ever since this all . . . came out about my brother, I’ve been thinking about that accident. Was she . . . Around the time of the . . . accident, was Emily acting differently than usual?’

  Naomi frowned. ‘Differently, how?’

  ‘Maybe, just . . . I don’t know. Did she seem upset or worried or anything?’

  Naomi scratched her curly hair with her ring finger. ‘No. She had no worries. She and Noah were good. They had Geordie. That nice house. She didn’t have anything to be upset about.’

  ‘Were you and she close?’

  ‘No. I mean, we got along well enough. She was good to us after Rod died. Always willing to help out. For family, you know. It goes to show you don’t really know people sometimes. I couldn’t stand her in high school. We went to high school together but we were definitely not friends. She was in the popular crowd. Nice clothes. Never had to work,’ said Naomi ruefully.

  Caitlin nodded. ‘What about Noah? Did he have any . . . enemies? Disgruntled clients? Anybody who might have wanted to hurt him?’

  ‘No. Why do you ask? The police already asked me all this stuff.’

  Caitlin hesitated. She decided it might be a good idea to stick to the truth. ‘Well, the police say that the damage to my father’s truck wasn’t consistent with their theory of what happened to Emily.’

  Naomi shook her head. ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Well, the damage to the truck and my brother’s account suggest that Emily ran out in front of the truck instead of being hit by the side of the road.’

  ‘Why would she do that?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Caitlin. ‘My brother thought she was trying to commit suicide.’

  ‘Suicide? Emily?’ Naomi snorted. ‘That’s ridiculous. No. She had the world on a string. That’s why it was such a shock when she died.’ Naomi shook her head. ‘I’ll never forget Noah calling me. Sobbing. I could barely understand him. Saying she’d been hit by a car and was dead. I couldn’t believe my ears. We were all just . . . stunned.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ said Caitlin.

  ‘First we lose Rod in Iraq. That was bad enough. Then, Emily. It was just too much to take in – we felt like
our family was cursed. My mother was hysterical. I was, too. Everybody but you, right, Travis? My little man. He never batted an eye when we heard the news about his aunt. He didn’t even seem surprised. I kept telling him it was OK to cry but he said he was fine.’

  Naomi turned to Travis. ‘You remember that? When we heard about Geordie’s mom? You were eating supper. I’ll never forget it. I told you about it, trying to break it to you gently, and you just looked at me and said, “Can I have some more macaroni?” You remember that?’

  ‘No,’ Travis snapped.

  Naomi sighed. ‘His teacher said he might be traumatized, and I should think about taking him to a counselor or something. But Travis insisted he was fine.’

  ‘Why do you have to talk about this?’ Travis demanded. He threw his Game Boy across the room. It bounced off a shelf of cookbooks and fell to the floor.

  Naomi did not seem bothered by his show of temper. ‘No matter how he acts, I know he felt bad about it. We’re not saying it to upset you, Travis,’ Naomi explained. Then she turned to Caitlin. ‘What are you hoping to find out, anyway?’

  ‘I’m just trying to figure out what happened,’ said Caitlin. ‘Trying to figure out if Geordie’s . . . disappearance is somehow related to Emily’s death.’

  Naomi frowned. ‘I don’t see what one thing has to do with the other.’

  ‘Well, at the moment, neither do I, but . . .’

  ‘Then just shut up,’ Travis murmured.

  Shocked by his language, Caitlin looked from the boy to his mother, waiting for Naomi to scold him.

  Naomi acted as if she had not heard what the boy said. ‘Well, I wish I could help you.’ She looked at her watch. ‘’Bout time for us to leave. You ready, Travis?’

  Travis got up from the folding chair without looking at Caitlin, went over and retrieved the Game Boy he had thrown against the books. ‘What’s for dinner?’ he demanded.

  ‘I was thinking Taco Bell,’ said Naomi.

  ‘Yay, I love Taco Bell,’ said Travis.

  ‘Do you want to join us?’ Naomi asked.

 

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