“I guess she had mentioned that she might, yes,” said Diane.
“Then it wouldn’t be a stretch to conclude that she and Matthew might now be on the run together, would it? They were dating years ago, weren’t they?”
Deflect thought Diane.
“That was a very long time ago,” replied Diane. “Their relationship is different now.” She hadn’t lied—but was the deflection enough?
The sheriff paused. “Different? How?” he finally asked.
Diane was stretching. She couldn’t pause too long or he wouldn’t accept any of it. “I try not to gossip about her personal life, but let’s just say that Rebecca would certainly not consider herself and Matthew to be a dating couple any longer. So yes, going back to what you said—I would say it would be a big stretch to suggest she would run away with Matthew.” She looked over at the space where Rebecca’s bike would have been. “And what do you think, Sheriff,” she continued as she pointed to the empty space, “that they are now running from the law on Rebecca’s bike? Maybe they are out there this very moment, riding in the dark out on the highway—Matthew is steering, with Rebecca seated across the handlebars? Is that how escapees flee these days?”
“Well, Diane, I can appreciate your sentiments and attempt at humor at a time like this, but up until earlier today, even I was forced to patrol on a bike. A bike wouldn’t be such a bad way to get away right now, and I’m sure Matthew could easily have obtained one of his own.”
“That’s just absurd, Sheriff,” said Diane, trying to think fast. “I admit that I can’t explain why Rebecca and Matthew are now both missing, but as we both know, just last night this house was broken into—and at the time, I assume Matthew Duncan was still in your custody? Or did he break out of jail last night and then break back in? No, I’m convinced it was someone else that locked my daughter and me in this garage. Couldn’t my daughter’s disappearance be related to that?”
The sheriff remained silent, studying her closely.
What was he looking for? Had he already seen something?
“Diane,” said the sheriff finally, “I’ve got to tell you that you don’t seem all that upset by your daughter’s disappearance. That’s why I’m thinking that maybe you still know more about what’s going on here. I think there’s something else.”
She knew he’d found a crack and stepped partially through it. She would be strong. She needed to fill that crack—right now!
“You think I know something? You think I’m not upset?” said Diane with a raised voice. “Why would I have tried to come rushing into the house earlier, before you stopped me? Why would I come out here to find the bike missing? What could I know?! I know my daughter is missing, and you’re standing here talking to me when you should be out looking for her!”
Diane started to head back into the house, but the sheriff grabbed her by the arm and stopped her, turning her around.
“If you really want to find your daughter—then you need to tell me everything you know, right now. I need to know what you know. I can’t do my job without all the information.”
He wasn’t giving up, and she knew that she needed another counterpunch—something else to fill the crack he was stepping through—a distraction. She would have to convince the sheriff to believe something was true that she herself didn’t even want to believe. She would have to convince him of the truth of the dark thought she had previously prevented from fully entering her mind.
“All right,” began Diane, pulling her arm away from the sheriff’s grasp. “I was hoping not to implicate someone else in all this up to now, but I think you should know that there was something else that happened last night that caused me to come over here and spend the night with Rebecca—she’d been followed home from work by Eddie Flynn. She was very frightened after that and called me when she got home.”
“Eddie Flynn? Interesting,” said the sheriff, still studying her.
Had the distraction been enough?
The sheriff looked down and then back up to Diane. “Well, this is the first I’ve heard of anything related to Mr. Flynn. It’s funny that she didn’t mention him when we spoke this morning. It seems to me that if she was so upset by Eddie, she would have mentioned it.”
“Well, she was upset, I promise you.”
“It just seems odd that neither of you have mentioned this until now. Suddenly, you bring Eddie Flynn’s name up? He’s the chief of security out there at the Home, and it sure seems to me like he might well have a good reason to escort employees back to town in the dark—for their own protection.”
“What Rebecca told me didn’t sound like protection, Sheriff. I think you should be following up with Eddie right now. Every minute could be important.”
The sheriff smiled. “I will consider your suggestion and add it to the mix of everything else that I’m considering.” He then looked right at her and slowed his speech. “But, I want to understand you clearly about this—you are saying that there is no way Rebecca would have willingly gone off with Mr. Duncan somewhere? Is that right?”
“Absolutely, no way,” replied Diane. “That would not be like her.”
“Then I’ll just have to respect a mother’s opinion and draw my own conclusions. I hate to say it, but we just might have a case of abduction here, Ms. D’Arcy. Your information was very useful. Thank you.”
The sheriff turned and moved toward the door to the kitchen. Diane panicked. Her deflection had led the sheriff to the right conclusion—but the wrong person! Her mind was racing for a way to escape the tangled web she had spun. She followed right behind him to the door, turning out the light in the garage as they stepped into the kitchen.
“Matthew Duncan did not kidnap Rebecca!” she blurted out. “Something else has happened. If you have any sense about you, you’ll begin with Eddie Flynn!”
The sheriff stopped and turned to face her. “I appreciate your input, Diane,” replied the sheriff, “but in a missing person case, the first few hours are the most important. I’ve got to follow up on the leads I feel will most likely lead us to your daughter, while at the same time trying to track down my escapee. My instincts tell me the two events are related. You told me yourself, Rebecca would not willingly go with Matthew—their relationship has ‘changed,’ I think you said. He’s an escaped convict, and Eddie Flynn is the head of security of a major state institution. I hope you understand my situation and resources here. I’m going to go with my instincts and follow what I feel is the most likely trail. You see, in the long run, I guess it doesn’t matter to me right now if Rebecca has gone willingly or not with Matthew Duncan. You say she wouldn’t, but either way, I’m betting that if I find him, I’ll find her. Now, can I offer you a ride to your house?”
“No thank you, Sheriff,” Diane said. “I’ll be staying here for a while tonight in case Rebecca comes home.”
“Fine then,” he said, “and do let me know if that should happen. I’ll keep in touch with you to give you status reports on our search.”
“Will you at least speak with Eddie Flynn?” she said, trying one last attempt to turn him in another direction.
The sheriff hesitated and then drew a deep breath. “Naturally, it would be a normal procedure for me to speak with the chief of security at your missing daughter’s workplace. Thank you for the suggestion.”
She only nodded as he turned and walked toward the front door, exiting the house.
She had failed.
Diane had sought only to protect her daughter and Matthew but instead had only increased the sheriff’s resolve to find them—with Matthew as his main focus. She sat at the small kitchen table and looked out through the glass of the sliding door into the blackness of the backyard. Somewhere out in the night was her daughter, and somewhere out there was Matthew. She put out a silent prayer that they were together, safe somewhere, and hidden away in the night where the sheriff wouldn’t find them. At least part of her prayer would be answered, and had she known which part, the dreadfu
l feeling growing in her heart would have been far greater.
Eighty-Three
On the Trail
Sheriff O’Neil and Sparky left Diane D’Arcy alone at Rebecca’s house as they continued their search for Matthew in other parts of Cottonwood. The sheriff was driving the electric loaner car from the state, and Sparky sat next to him, his wrist no longer sore from the handcuffs, and his mind now focused on his missing friend, Rebecca.
“Something doesn’t seem right about all this,” Sparky said as they turned onto Main Street.
“I agree, completely,” replied the sheriff. “I see deception everywhere. Ever since Matthew Duncan came back to Cottonwood, this town’s been thrown into a dark cloud, filled with lies and deception. That cloud seems to cover everything and everyone he comes into contact with—look at you, for example.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, he deceived you more than anyone. I still want to know how the hell he got free and how you ended up in those god-damn handcuffs. How’d he do it?”
Sparky looked down at his wrist. “I told you—I don’t know.”
The sheriff glanced over at him in the darkness of the car. “Yeah, fucking right,” said the sheriff. “I’m beginning to wonder if I can even trust you anymore. I’ve always thought of you as not just a deputy but also a friend. Well, friends don’t lie to friends.”
“I swear I don’t know what happened. I was just sitting there, and the next thing I knew, I was cuffed to my chair.”
“Save it, Sparky. I don’t really give a shit right at this moment how it all happened. The bottom line is that some sort of deception took place, and if you’re lying to me now, then it’s just continuing. He’s put you under his spell, too. Well, it’s got to stop—it’s going to stop! I’m going to find that bastard and put an end to this—for the sake of Cottonwood.”
Sparky said nothing. They drove a few more blocks, passing by the church. The sheriff unclipped the radio microphone from his shirt—as the state’s loaner car didn’t have a radio—and called dispatch.
“Cottonwood dispatch, this is Sheriff O’Neil, over.”
After a few seconds, Helen Prentiss replied, “This is dispatch, go ahead, Sheriff.”
“Helen, it looks like we’ve got another missing person on our hands. We’re going to head north along the highway, toward the Home. I just wanted to let you know the situation.”
“Copy that, Sheriff,” she said and after a moment’s pause, added, “and I do hate to pry, but do you mind if I ask who it is? Is it someone from Cottonwood?”
The sheriff waited a moment before responding. “Well, I guess you’ll hear eventually anyway, Helen,” said the sheriff. “It’s Rebecca D’Arcy.”
“Rebecca! Oh my god! First Old Blind Carl and now Rebecca?!” said Helen.
“Now, calm down, Helen, and don’t you worry,” assured the sheriff. “I’m working on some strong leads.”
“The poor dear had her house broken into the other night and now this! I wonder if they’re somehow related?”
“I’m not convinced of that,” replied the sheriff. “There’ve been lots of strangers in town these past few days. The break-in could just be a coincidence. I’m working in another direction.”
“Well,” Helen said, “I hope you don’t mind if I share something that might or might not be helpful to you—and I only tell you this because I’ve known Rebecca all her life, and I sure wouldn’t want to see anything terrible happen to her.”
“I understand, go ahead,” said the sheriff.
“Well, I guess it was supposed to be a secret, but did you know that Rebecca is engaged?”
Sparky had been following the conversation, and he and the sheriff looked at each other in the darkness of the car.
“Engaged? No, I hadn’t heard that,” replied the sheriff. “Though now that you mention it, I do recall seeing a pretty ring on her finger the other day. It’s strange her mother didn’t tell me about any engagement—but maybe it’s not that strange, when I think about it.”
“Like I said, I think it was a secret. Maybe Diane isn’t aware of it yet—parents can be the last to know sometimes.”
“I suppose, but anyway—any idea who her fiancé is?”
“I’m not certain, but I’d guess it’s got to be someone local and probably around her age. There aren’t a lot of choices in Cottonwood anymore.”
“Well, thanks for that information. It could be useful—who knows,” said the sheriff. “And again, don’t worry, Helen, we’ll find Rebecca, I promise—over and out.”
The two men continued north on Main Street, passing by the town hall and passing by the dark pile of dirt and large hole in front of Rhonda’s Bridal & Floral. The silent electric car crossed Second Street and continued north, leaving Cottonwood behind.
“Interesting, isn’t it, Sparky?” said the sheriff, after they were out of town and on the dark highway. “Our missing person is engaged, and her own mother didn’t mention it to us.”
“Maybe she doesn’t know,” replied Sparky. “It could be as simple as that.”
“Or it could be more deception. Either Rebecca kept it from her mother, or her mother kept it from us—either way, there’s more deception going on. Who knows where the truth is in this whole thing?”
“Why would her mother want to keep it from us?” asked Sparky.
“Who the hell knows? To protect someone, maybe? Or maybe she really doesn’t know. I’m not sure what to believe, and I’m not sure that’s important right now. We need to look at what we do know—Rebecca’s missing and so is Old Blind Carl.”
“And don’t forget about Matthew Duncan,” added Sparky. “He’s missing, too.”
The sheriff glanced over at Sparky. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten about him, but I prefer not to think of him as missing but escaped. Maybe it comforts you to think of him as missing, since he escaped on your watch. No, I haven’t forgotten about our escapee. He’s the key to all this. I’m pretty sure he’s killed Carl, and now I’m afraid there’s a good chance he might kill again. I just hope we can find him before that happens.”
Sparky was silent for moment and then asked, “You really think he’d kill Rebecca? Why? They were really close at one time.”
The sheriff shook his head. “I can’t answer that right now. He’s been gone a long time. Maybe he came back with hopes of rekindling something, and she didn’t want any part of it. Maybe this whole engagement thing has something to do with it. He could be angry that she got engaged to someone else. I don’t have all the pieces just yet, but I’ll get there.”
There were a few minutes of silence between the two men as they continued north. The sheriff drove very slowly along the dark and deserted highway. He had his left hand on the steering wheel and held a flashlight in his right hand, pointing it out the window toward the dark towering trees and then down into the ravine next to the road. On the passenger side, Sparky was doing the same thing with his flashlight.
“What exactly do you think we’ll find out here?” Sparky asked after several minutes of searching with the flashlights.
“Rebecca’s bike…a body…who knows?” replied the sheriff. “I doubt that Mr. Duncan would be dumb enough to just throw a body or bike along the highway, as he seems to have disposed of Old Carl’s body pretty handily, but you never know how desperate he’s gotten. We’ve got to go through the motions.”
They continued their search all the way up to the Home, passing by Eddie’s house and, at one point, passing right over the same shiny object in the road that Dr. Reese had passed over earlier in the evening. They were too busy looking and pointing their flashlights out into the forest and ravine to notice the shining object as it caught and reflected the headlights from the car.
At the Home, they parked right in front, with the sheriff making doubly sure that the car was locked, and he had the keys in his hands. They walked up to the front door of the building and found it locked. A speaker box with a call button hung next to the do
or. Under the speaker box was a sign that read:
TO CONTACT SECURITY AFTER HOURS,
PRESS BUTTON.
The sheriff pushed the button and then happened to look up and notice a video camera above the door. A few seconds after the button was pushed, someone answered. It was Eddie Flynn.
“Hello, Sheriff,” said Eddie.
“Hello, Eddie,” replied the sheriff, looking up toward the video camera. “Sorry to bother you so late, but do you mind if we come in?”
“No, of course not. Open the door when you hear the buzzer.”
A buzzer sounded and the sheriff and deputy entered the building. Before they were more than fifteen feet inside the door, they were met by Eddie.
“Well, I can pretty much figure out why you’re here,” Eddie said, shaking hands with both men. “Any luck so far in locating Becky? I’ve been very worried about her—I mean everyone here, including me, has been pretty upset by all this.”
“I can understand how this could affect the staff,” replied the sheriff. “I take it there’s still no word from her?”
“I just got here myself,” replied Eddie. “I’ve been shuttling employees back and forth to town all night. To get the latest, we should probably talk to Doctor Reese.”
“Oh, is he here?” asked the sheriff. “We talked to him a little while ago down at Rebecca’s house.”
Eddie nodded. “He’s in his office. He arrived a little while ago. Follow me, I’ll take you.”
Eddie turned and had started toward the main office, but the sheriff didn’t move. “Actually, first, Eddie, I have a couple of questions for you.”
Eddie stopped and turned around. “Well, like I told you, I just got here. Doctor Reese is really the person you’ll want to—”
“Nope,” interrupted the sheriff. “You’re chief of security, and I have a few questions for you—before I speak with Doctor Reese.”
Eddie paused, glanced at Sparky, and then back to the sheriff. “Okay, sure, but I’m not sure what I can tell you.”
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