The Stolen (2008)
Page 14
to run across the room.”
“The underwear monster doesn’t come out until the
sock monster goes to sleep.”
“I’m going to ignore you now.”
She walked around to the couch, sat down, placed her
coffee on the small marble table, already ringed with many
old coffee cup stains, including a few that were most likely
from Amanda’s cups and had never been cleaned.
“This place missed you,” I said, then felt silly for saying
it.
“Really? It probably has enough festering life forms
hiding that it did tell you that.”
“Yeah, the comforter and I, we chat sometimes.”
“If cleanliness is next to godliness, I think this makes
you the Antichrist.”
I laughed, took a sip of the coffee. Then we sat in
silence for a moment.
“So Gray Talbot,” she said, thankfully breaking the
tension. “What does he have to do with Michelle and
Daniel?”
“I did a bit of a background check on the senator,” I
said. “Found a few interesting facts.”
“Let me guess. This was after Wallace told you to let it
be.”
“Naturally. Anyway, in 2001, after Michelle Oliveira
disappeared from Meriden, Gray Talbot swooped in like
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an avenging angel and pretty much scorched the earth. He
lambasted the government of Connecticut, the social
services offices, the police force, criticized them all for
betraying the families that lived within their borders. He
said it was a sad day when an out-of-stater had to come in
because the job wasn’t being done right. And Talbot saved
his best blasts for then Governor John Rowland.”
“Rowland,” Amanda said. “That name rings a bell.”
“It should. John Rowland resigned from office as
governor of the state of Connecticut in 2004 due to charges
of massive corruption. Mail fraud, tax fraud, he even
served ten months in a federal prison.”
“And this guy was running the state when Michelle
disappeared?”
“Kind of like having a crack addict babysit your
children. Rowland was skimming money for numerous
personal projects that had nothing to do with the state. He
took state money and paid for improvements to his
weekend cottage, took thousands of dollars in gifts from
his subcontractors. Of course, after prison he did the whole
rehab-image deal, everything but appear on the cover of
People magazine. Anyway, Talbot came in after Michelle
disappeared and tore Rowland a new one for letting the
state go to seed. He said the state was not protecting its
youth. At the time, Meriden had the second-highest crime
rate in the state, and it had gotten worse over the previous
few years. Even though Talbot was a New York senator,
he was quoted as saying, ‘This is a matter so vital to the
future of our country that it would be irresponsible to only
permit coloring within state lines.’”
“So Talbot ruins Rowland, then what?”
“Talbot institutes a program called ‘Not on Our Watch.’
He raises millions of dollars earmarked for improving
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security within Meriden and other surrounding counties.
More money for police recruiting, neighborhood watches,
more incentives for gang members and criminals to
become informants. He raises thousands of dollars for the
Oliveira family, basically seals up trust funds for their
other children to go to college. Within two years, the crime
rate in Meriden drops like a rock. He spent years working
to help the Oliveiras move on with their lives.”
Amanda said, “And now this guy is knocking on
Wallace’s door telling him to let the city move on. It sounds
to me like Talbot is a guy who worked his ass off to rebuild
a community, then sees some punk reporter, no offense…”
“None taken…”
“…digging around, looking for holes in the masonry.”
“Not to mention the most interesting part,” I said.
“Michelle Oliveira grew up in Meriden, but guess where
she was born?”
“I don’t know, where?”
“Hobbs County.”
“Like Danny Linwood?” she said. “Holy shit, that’s a
hell of a coincidence.”
“Or maybe not,” I said. “Guess where our favorite
senator also grew up?”
Amanda looked at me. She said, “No way…”
“That’s right, Hobbs County for two hundred, Alex.”
“So this guy has taken protecting his own to a whole
new level. No wonder as a New York senator he decided
to stick his nose into another state.”
“What’s also strange, though, is that both Meriden and
Hobbs County were essentially cesspools before Michelle
Oliveira and Daniel Linwood were kidnapped. Since
Talbot came in, they’ve seen unprecedented growth and
community support.”
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“Talbot seems to have done his job well,” she said.
“There are certainly enough shitty neighborhoods in
New York, maybe he should take care of his own
backyard for a bit.”
“That’s why he was at Danny Linwood’s home the day
I interviewed him,” I said. “He is looking out for his own
backyard. Literally.”
“What are you thinking we should do?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “But it concerns me any time a
politician does something for the alleged good of the community. It makes me wonder what the quid pro quo is.”
“Well, how has Talbot’s career been affected since
Michelle Oliveira and Danny Linwood came back?”
“Well, he’s won by a landslide every time he’s run for
reelection,” I said. “One would assume at some point he’ll
want to move from the senate to the governor’s mansion.
All that good press can’t hurt.”
“You think we might be a little too cynical?” Amanda said.
“I mean, this guy seems to have legitimately changed lives.
Maybe even saved a few. For all the politicians that talk a big
game, this guy actually gets his feet dirty.Yet he ruffles a few
feathers at your office and we’re ready to string him up.”
“I’m not doing anything like that,” I said defensively.
“But I need to know why two children disappeared into
thin air, reappeared years later with no memory of where
they went, and nobody seems to be looking too hard into
that fact. I have no idea if Gray Talbot is the greatest
Samaritan of all time or Jack the Ripper in a good suit. I
just want the truth. And one thing I’ve learned in this job
is that anytime somebody tells you not to look under that
rock, there’s something there they don’t want you to find.”
“And now you’re going to lift that rock. Even if it
means your job.”
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“Even if it means your job,” I said, looking her dead in
the
eye. Amanda seemed taken aback, then she took a
breath and calmed down.
“Guess I should have expected that.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“Don’t be sorry. I want to respect you. If you pulled
punches, I wouldn’t.”
“Sometimes I hit harder than I need to. Against people
who don’t deserve it.”
“Yeah…” she said, eyeing me warily. “I think it’s time
for me to head home.”
“You’re sure?” I said. “You want to grab dinner or
something?”
Amanda looked at me, sadness in her eyes. “Henry,
this is what it is. I’ll help you all you need. I want to
know everything about Danny and Michelle, too. But
this is what we are, now, you and me. And this is a
choice you made.”
“What was your choice?” I asked.
She looked at me, her cheeks flushing red, anger in
her eyes. “I didn’t have one,” she said. “You made my
choice for me.”
“I know. And I’m sorry I did that. I wish I could take it
back. More than anything.”
Amanda took a step closer, her eyes locked on to mine.
For a moment I felt embarrassed, wanted to step back.
“Two years ago,” Amanda said, “you came clean about
who you were. I had a choice. I could have left you on
the side of the road for the assholes who wanted you
dead. Or I could help you. I made my choice. And here
we are. I didn’t leave you then, and I wouldn’t have left
you ever. You decided to make my choice for me. And
since you did that, I’m not going to put myself in another
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situation where someone can dictate my future without my
say-so. It’s my life, Henry, and if you don’t like what I do
with it, you should have never gotten into my car in the
first place.”
I finally stepped back, felt like I’d been slapped across
the face. Though I had no one to blame but myself. “So
what are we, then?” I asked.
Amanda walked forward until I could smell the light
perfume that she must have put on before work. Because
she sure didn’t wear it for me.
“We’re friends,” she said. “Good friends. I’ll help you
however I can with this. But just with this. That’s my choice.
So either you can deal with it or you can’t, but if you can’t,
say something now. Otherwise don’t waste my time.”
“I have nothing to say. I appreciate it. So will Danny
Linwood.”
I sat back down. Took out the papers Amanda had given
me regarding Michelle Oliveira’s disappearance. I began
to go through them again. Amanda stood there in the hall
for a moment, then came and sat down next to me. She
looked over my shoulder.
“Do you mind?” she asked. She didn’t quite phrase it
as a question. She knew there wasn’t a chance in hell of
me minding. I smiled. Told her I didn’t.
Then I noticed something on Michelle’s medical
reports. She used a pediatrician in Hobbs County for
several years before moving to Meriden. I looked at the
name on the birth certificate, the signature of the man who
delivered Michelle Oliveira.
“What is it?” Amanda asked.
“Michelle Oliveira was born at the Yardley Medical
Center in Hobbs County,” I said.
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“And?”
“The doctor on this birth certificate is named Dmitri
Petrovsky,” I said. “The same Dmitri Petrovsky who treats
Danny Linwood.”
17
The girl sat on the couch, listening to the two grown-ups
speak as if she wasn’t even there.
“I heard her coughing last night,” Elaine Reed said. It
was cold inside the house. The girl watched with curiosity
as Elaine held a cup of tea to her cheek. She’d heard
Elaine’s husband, Bob, say something about not being
able to work the fireplace. Bob talked loud sometimes, and
used words that Elaine got mad at him for.
Elaine was a pretty woman, only a little younger than
her own mom. She had bright red hair and always wore
pretty blue jewelry. When the other day the girl asked
what kind it was, Elaine told her that her own daddy had
brought it back from Greece. She said the rocks there were
as blue as the sea itself.
Bob was shorter, with thinning dark hair and a beard that
circled only his upper lip and chin. He wore glasses and
didn’t say much and spent most of the day reading books
and newspapers. He seemed to like to argue about politicians, people he said were doing this country more harm
than good. Elaine always nodded and smiled when he talked
like that, but didn’t really seem to have any opinions of her
own in that regard.
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The house was so huge, bigger than her old one, and
the girl was scared to walk around alone. Not that she ever
had to, since Elaine insisted on holding her hand almost
everywhere she went. The girl felt strange, this woman
she’d just met acting so friendly, but Elaine was nice and
it meant not having to be scared. Even though she was still
confused, the girl loved running up and down the lengthy
hallways, laughing as Bob helped her slide down the
banister. Elaine placed both of her hands around the cup,
took a sip and placed it on the wooden table. Bob picked
it up, frowned at her, then took a glass coaster emblazoned with a bright yellow sunflower and put the cup back
down on it.
“She might just have a cold,” Bob said. “Kids get colds.
Not everything is a life-threatening disease.”
She’d heard Elaine mention that the Reed family had
lived in this house for just six months, and still hadn’t quite
grown used to its nooks and crannies, the way it creaked
during high wind, the way the linoleum was cool in the
spring and hot in the summer. Yet for all the comfort,
Elaine said she still felt isolated. The days were sunny and
clear, and when the windows were left open the girl could
see the trees, high oaks. And the fence surrounding the
property.
Bob Reed had a bit of a temper. Or as her daddy would
say, his blood got up something. Bob complained that they
had to drive three miles just to see a human being. And he
had to fiddle with some sort of remote control to work a
“stupid” motor-controlled gate that allowed access to the
driveway. Not to mention some brick wall that obscured the
surrounding area. Elaine would put her hand on Bob’s
shoulder and say, “We know why this is happening. We need
to make the best of it.” Bob would look at her, nod, then go
off on his own.
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But right now they seemed concerned. A few days ago,
the girl had come down with a cold. She felt shivery and
warm at the same time, and no matter how many blankets
Elaine piled on top of her it never went away. Whe
n they
first realized she was sick, Bob and Elaine grew pale, and
this scared the girl.
“Kids cough,” he said now, trying to be strong. “Look
at Patrick. Hawked up a ball of phlegm every night until
he turned three.”
“Well, this one is six,” Elaine said. “And that coughing
doesn’t sound right. Maybe we should take her to see
someone.”
“Not him,” Bob said. “I don’t trust that man.”
“Neither do I, but we have to. He told us if we ever
needed medical help, we had to see…”
“Screw that crazy, scarred-up old man,” Bob said. “He
doesn’t have to live like this. He didn’t have to change his
life for some strange kid.”
“Patrick,” Elaine said. “Think of Patrick.”
Bob sighed, put his head in his hands. “Her cold will
pass,” he said, reaching for the newspaper. “Can’t even get
the newspaper delivered because ‘he’ said so.”
“Speaking of which,” Elaine said, “I think it’s time for
her shot.”
Bob nodded. He said, “I’ll do it this time.”
He stood up. Headed toward the bathroom. A minute
later Bob came back carrying a plastic bag.
He opened the bag and took out a gauze pad, a syringe,
a small vial and a bottle of clear liquid that smelled funny.
The girl watched all this. It all seemed vaguely familiar.
And though that needle looked huge, like the size of a
knife, for some reason she wasn’t scared.
“Did you wash your hands?” Elaine asked.
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“Of course,” Bob replied. He took the small vial and
rolled it gently between his fingers. Next he took a cotton
ball, opened the bottle of clear liquid, held the ball against
the open top until it was wet, then cleaned the top of the
vial with the cotton ball.
“That smells funny,” the girl said. Elaine scrunched her
nose and smiled.
“It does, doesn’t it?”
Bob didn’t smile. He just kept doing what he was doing.
Bob took the syringe and pulled the stopper back a
little bit. Then he pushed the needle into the top of the vial,
pressing the stopper again. A small bubble of air entered
the vial. Then he turned the vial upside down, the syringe
pointing at the ceiling, and pulled the stopper again until
a small amount of the liquid was sucked into the syringe.
He tapped the syringe until the air bubbles had risen to the
top of the needle. Then he removed the needle from the vial.