by James Hunt
“Ghost hunters,” Torrence said, repeating the phrase with the same hint of skepticism that everyone always gave it.
“That’s right,” Lindsy said, arms crossed, jaw set tight. She wasn’t going to back down from this guy.
Torrence arched both eyebrows and then returned the pen to notepad. “Can you two tell me what it is that you found in the woods?”
“Child remains,” Mike answered, jumping in before Lindsy could speak. “From the decomposition rate, it looks like they had been there for a long time.”
“And how did you find these remains?” Torrence asked.
“We heard the children crying,” Lindsy answered.
Again Torrence paused his writing and looked at Lindsy. “You heard children crying?”
“Beneath the ground,” Lindsy answered. “I believe all of this has to do with Evelyn Carter.”
“The midwife,” Torrence said and then chuckled. “You people are something else, you know that?”
“No, we don’t,” Lindsy said. “Why don’t you try and explain it to us so we can understand?”
It was Lindsy’s instinct to push back. She had always been that way, even when she was little, and those instincts only hardened and intensified in adulthood.
“What my wife means to say is that we get a lot of skeptics,” Mike said, jumping in as the diplomat and calming the deputy before the situation escalated. “We’re here to help the Maples discover more about what happened to their daughter. We’re all on the same team here.”
Lindsy and Torrence locked eyes, neither of them backing down, but eventually, Torrence folded up his notebook and tucked into his front shirt pocket.
“You know, I ran a little background check on the two of you before I came over to talk,” Torrence said. “Looks like the both of you have done a little time for withholding evidence.”
“It was a bad judgment call by us,” Mike said. “But we both paid our dues, and we haven’t had any trouble since then. I know our record will also reflect that.”
“That might be true,” Torrence said. “But I’m going to need to know where the two of you were the night the Maples’ daughter went missing.”
And there it was. Lindsy hated the fact that people were so quick to judge her life simply because of who she was. It was a never-ending uphill battle to prove she wasn’t crazy. But it was like trying to explain particle physics to a toddler. It was simply beyond most people’s ability to understand.
Once their alibi was locked away and secured, Sheriff Torrence’s questions seemed to trail off. Lindsy could tell the officer wanted to nail them, even if it was for the simple fact that he didn’t like them.
“Well, if you two remember anything of importance, make sure you reach back out to us and let us know,” Torrence said, and then he tipped the brim of his hat before he turned away.
Once the sheriff was gone, Lindsy was still fuming. “What an ass.”
“He was just doing his due diligence,” Mike said. “This might be the hundredth time we’ve had to explain ourselves and our situation, but it’s the first time he’s hearing it.”
“Yeah, well, I’m getting tired of being the one that has to do all of the explaining,” Lindsy said.
Mike sighed. “I know. Listen, I’m going to finish up some research in the RV.” He touched her elbow, pulling her attention away from the house where Daniel and Carla were still speaking with the authorities. “Are you going to be able to play nice while I’m gone?”
Lindsy kissed him on the lips. “I can’t make any promises.” She turned and walked away, smiling to herself because she knew it was going to make Mike sweat.
“The stress you cause me is going to put me in an early grave,” Mike said.
Lindsy spun around, facing Mike as she walked backward. “Then, I hope you’ll be able to haunt me, and we can finally do that pottery scene from the movie Ghost.”
Mike shook his head, grumbling as he stepped back into the RV, and Lindsy spun around, chuckling to herself as she returned to the wooded area where the police were currently digging up the bodies.
Lindsy caught a few stares from the team working when she approached, but she knew as long as she didn’t cross the holy yellow police tape, they wouldn’t bother her. As Lindsy examined the number of holes left behind from all of the bodies that were found, her stomach lurched.
The death of something so innocent as an infant horrified Lindsy, and the fact that Evelyn Carter was able to kill so many infants for so long spoke to a level of insanity she had never seen before.
No, Lindsy thought. Calling Evelyn Carter insane would be like calling Hitler misunderstood. For someone to kill so deliberately, and so often, revealed a very malicious intent. An intent that the midwife performed over and over again.
Lindsy walked the yellow police tape perimeter, watching the forensic team work. They had set up a table beneath a tent where the remains they found were placed. She was glad to see how they treated the dead with such care and precision. They might have been scientists and technicians, but they understood that what they found here was sacred. And that there had been a life and a mind behind those bones, even though it was tiny and very young.
“Hey.”
Startled, Lindsy spun around to find Carla standing behind her.
“Hey,” Lindsy said. “How are you doing?”
Carla remained closed off, hugging herself by her elbows as she shifted her weight from side to side. “I don’t know.” She kept her head down, struggling to find the words. “I can’t stop thinking about how real it all felt.”
“It’s because it was real,” Lindsy said.
Carla deepened her frown. “But, there was nothing but bones.”
Lindsy offered a sad smile. “The dead are often devious. What you saw was meant to hurt you. It was real because the midwife made it real.” She glanced back to the graveyard they had found in the middle of the woods.
Carla walked up next to Lindsy, her complexion pale. “I don’t understand how someone could have done something so horrible like this. How could someone just throw away life like that?”
“People throw away plenty of things without a second glance,” Lindsy answered. “And someone who does that enough times, with enough things, starts to do it with human life. It all becomes the same for them. Just trash.”
One of the forensic techs removed another child from the ground and then carried it over to the table beneath the tent with the others.
“It’s madness,” Carla said, her voice thickening with grief. “And my baby is still out there.” She bowed her head, crying softly to herself.
Lindsy held Carla’s hand and whispered in the mother’s ear. “Don’t give up. Everyone else around you might give up, but don’t. Because I won’t either.”
Carla said nothing as she turned into Lindsy and then hugged the woman. Lindsy knew exactly what Carla was going through. She understood the loss, the pain, the confusion, she understood it all, and she knew it would get worse before it got better.
Carla eventually let go of Lindsy and returned to the house, but Lindsy remained by the graveyard, keeping an eye on things.
With the sun beginning to set, Lindsy was about to head back to the RV to see what else Mike had found when something of a shimmer caught her eye from beneath the tent where the remains were being examined.
Had the sun not hit it in just the right spot, Lindsy was sure she would have missed it, but she saw one of the forensic techs remove a silver key from one of the children's remains.
The moment Lindsy saw that key, she received a vision of the trunk she found in the attic. She was about to open her mouth to say something, but remained silent.
No matter what Lindsy would say, she knew the police weren’t going to give her the key, and if she revealed the trunk to them, then that would be logged away as evidence as well. The only way to get the key was to steal it.
9
Lindsy returned to the RV, thinking about how s
he was going to explain her idea to Mike. She knew the moment she suggested trying to steal anything from the police, no matter how brilliant the plan, he wouldn’t go along. But she also knew trying something like this behind his back would be a breach of their trust, and honesty had been the foundation of their relationship.
Lindsy paused at the RV door, taking a breath and steeling herself for the inevitable argument. When she felt like she was ready, she opened the door.
“Hey,” Mike said, eyes still glued to his computer screen.
“Hey,” Lindsy said.
Mike was sitting at their breakfast/lunch/dinner table, facing the front of the RV. Lindsy remained in the narrow walkway, leaning against the side of the kitchen counter.
“Get anything?” Mike asked.
“I did,” Lindsy answered. “You?”
Mike leaned back from the computer and cracked his back, twisting to the left and the right. “Yeah, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
Lindsy crossed her arms. “Try me.”
Mike turned the laptop around, so it was facing Lindsy. “I did a little more digging on Carla and Daniel and found that Carla spent a year in a mental institution.”
Lindsy sat down at the table, pulling the computer toward her so she could get a better read. “You’re joking.”
“No,” Mike said. “But I wish I was.”
Lindsy read the same news article that Mike had found from when the Maples lived out east. Carla had broken into their neighbor's home and had snuck in through the sliding back door, which had been unlocked, and then grabbed a knife from the kitchen block on her way into the bedroom where she threatened to kill them. She had been under the impression that her neighbors were sneaking into her house at night. Which, of course, they weren’t.
“We need to ask them some questions,” Mike said.
Lindsy pushed the computer away from her. “This doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means that we’re dealing with someone who might not be mentally sound,” Mike said.
“She just lost a child,” Lindsy said. “No one is going to be mentally sound after that.”
“You know what I mean.”
Mike had a way of always keeping a calm tone whenever Lindsy became angry or agitated. She didn’t understand how he did it, and it drove her insane. If she knew it wasn’t genuine, she would have thought he did it just to drive her crazy.
“Do you think the cops know about it?” Lindsy asked.
“Probably,” Mike answered. “But that’s why we need to have a conversation with Daniel and Carla and figure out what else they haven’t told us. Because that—” Mike pointed to the computer. “—doesn’t paint a flattering picture.” He dropped his hand, and it thudded hard on the table. “And I have to say that this does make me nervous about what else they might be keeping from us.”
Lindsy studied Mike, knowing exactly what her husband was thinking. “She didn’t do it, Mike.”
“I’m not saying she did,” Mike said.
“You don’t have to.” Lindsy shimmied out from behind the table and headed for the door, where Mike followed and caught up to her, catching her before she stormed outside.
“Hang on for a sec,” Mike said, pulling her closer.
Lindsy looked away, not wanting to give him an inch.
“I know how this is affecting you,” Mike said. “Anytime we work a case involving children, it’s harder, even though I know you don’t like to say it is. But I see it on your face.”
Lindsy finally caught Mike’s eyes. He had been the only one ever to see her, to really, truly see her.
“The midwife is the one behind this,” Lindsy said. “I know I haven’t been able to feel her too much, but I know it’s her. Do you believe me?”
“Yes,” Mike answered. “But we need to do our due diligence on this case because even if the midwife is responsible for all of this, I don’t want to have something else come up and bite us in the ass. No ass bites.”
Lindsy smirked, twisting her face up as she tried not to smile. “I’ll do my best.”
“Good,” Mike said. “So, what did you find?”
Knowing it would only cause Mike more stress, Lindsy decided to pause on telling him about her idea to steal the key from the police, at least until she had a solid plan on how to do it. “I’ll tell you later. Let’s go talk with Carla and Daniel.”
The cops were wrapping up as Mike and Lindsy walked to the house. Sheriff Torrence was speaking with Daniel on the front porch and then handed Daniel a card before heading to his cruiser. He and Lindsy locked eyes when they passed one another, their expressions anything but friendly.
“I don’t like that sheriff,” Lindsy said.
Mike feigned shock. “You not like a cop? Unbelievable.”
Lindsy rolled her eyes but kept her inner commentary to herself as they joined Daniel on the porch.
“How’d it go?” Mike asked.
Daniel tapped the corner of the sheriff’s business card into the palm of his left hand. “Oh, about as good as it did the first time.” He gestured to the house. “They’re still combing through some of our stuff, so I don’t know how much longer they’re going to be.”
“They’re sweeping the house?” Lindsy asked.
Daniel nodded. “They said they wanted to take ‘another look’ at everything inside since Carla brought the remains she found inside the house.”
“I’m sure it’s part of their protocol,” Mike said, casting Lindsy some side-eye that told her to drop the subject before it escalated.
“Maybe,” Daniel said, staring down at the card again.
“Well, we’d like to speak to you and Carla if that’s all right,” Mike said.
Daniel shrugged. “Sure. Carla’s in the living room.”
The trio walked inside, and Lindsy spied a few techs in the kitchen, opening cupboards. She hated how intrusive the police were, acting like they owned everything they touched, searching through your personal belongings for the sole purpose of finding anything that was incriminating.
Carla sat alone on the couch, hugging a pillow to her chest, and Daniel sat next to her. Mike took a seat in the armchair next to the sofa, and Lindsy remained standing. She was too antsy to sit.
“Now, before we get into this, I want to make it very clear both Lindsy and I are still on your side,” Mike said.
Carla immediately perked up, alarmed. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
Mike remained calm. “No. We just want to ask you a few questions about your mental state.”
“Here we go,” Daniel said, removing his arm from around his wife and crossing his arms defiantly.
“I was sick then,” Carla said, quickly trying to explain herself. “I didn’t realize at the time that I was bipolar, but once I started taking my medicine, I haven’t had another episode.”
“And you’re still on the medicine now?” Mike asked.
Both Daniel and Carla cast Mike an accusatory glare, but deep down, Lindsy knew her husband was simply doing his due diligence.
“Yes,” Carla said, slightly angry.
“She hasn’t had a single episode since she’s taken her pills, but this keeps coming back to make her look like she’s guilty,” Daniel said.
“Guilty?” Lindsy asked. “Have the police insinuated that you were responsible?”
Carla placed a hand on her husband’s knee to try and get him to calm down. “They asked the same questions you did. But nothing official was charged.”
“Those people didn’t keep looking very hard after that, though,” Daniel said. “Practically gave up on the case when they found out Carla had spent a little time in a mental institution because she needed help.”
“Why didn’t you tell us this before?” Mike asked.
“I was afraid you would do what the police did,” Carla answered. “I didn’t want you to think that I was crazy or anything. The mayor has been trying to use that against me ever since Angela was
taken.”
“Use it against you?” Mike asked. “How?”
“He wants the house!” Carla shouted. “And the land we have.”
“It has something to do with some real estate deal he’s trying to get signed,” Daniel said. “He told us that we had until today to decide before his deal runs out.”
“And you refused to sell to him,” Mike said.
“We’re not leaving until we find Angela,” Carla said, defiant.
Lindsy remembered how adamant the mayor had been in their brief interaction to convince the Maples to leave. “Did you tell the police about that?” Lindsy asked.
“Of course we did,” Carla said. “But they haven’t done anything.”
“They told us the mayor had an alibi the night Angela was taken,” Daniel said.
“Whose name is on the house’s deed?” Mike asked.
“Mine,” Carla answered, a little quieter. “But, the property passes to Daniel if something happens to me.”
Lindsy glanced at Daniel, who kept his head down, and she remembered how friendly both he and the mayor had been when she saw them speaking earlier.
Carla hunched forward, raking her fingers through her hair. “I think I’m going crazy.”
Lindsy crossed the room and joined Carla on the couch. “You are not crazy. And we both know you didn’t have anything to do with—”
“Carla Maples?” Sheriff Torrence entered, flanked by three other deputies, who walked over to Carla with authority, pulling her from the couch.
Daniel shot up from his seat. “What the hell is this?”
One of the deputies spun Carla around and clamped a pair of handcuffs on her.
“Carla Maples, you are under arrest for the murder of your daughter, Angela Maples,” Torrence said, answering Daniel’s question. “You have the right to remain silent—”
“Let her go!” Daniel charged forward, but the two other officers held him back.
Carla was crying, looking back to Lindsy and her husband with desperation. “I didn’t do anything. I swear I didn’t do anything.”