by Lyn Cote
It was like a nightmare. She tried the door. It was locked up tight. She called her daughter’s name. She ran along the block looking into doorways. She finally stopped at the phone booth on the corner and dialed Katy’s number. Dear God, let her have gone home with Katy’s mom. “Hi, this is Leigh. I’m sorry I was late again. Is Carly with you?”
“No,” Katy’s mom said, “Katy was sick today and didn’t go to school or dance. Is something wrong?”
Leigh’s heart thundered, and she hung up. Faintness made her sway.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Leigh stood petrified, insensate. Finally, her mind eased back to consciousness. What do I do now? What do I do now?
She left the phone booth and wandered down the block again, directionless. This can’t be happening. No. “Carly,” she called again and then more urgently, “ Carly!”It was dark now and cold. Shivering, Leigh felt hysteria lurking just behind her throat. In a moment, she’d be screaming and screaming—panicked—out of control…
Then Nate’s face came to mind. She ran back to the phone. Within seconds, the line was ringing. Please pick up. Please pick up. Please—
“Gallagher here.”
“Nate,” she gasped, shuddering, “it’s… Leigh.”
“What’s wrong?” he demanded.
“I… can’t find Carly.”
“Your little girl?”
“Yes,” she replied and began weeping, cold tears sliding down her face. “I’m so frightened,” she wailed, “I can’t think—”
“Where are you?”
She had to pause to remember, and then she gave him the dance studio’s address.
“Could your daughter have gone home with a friend?”
“Her friend didn’t go to dance today.” His calm businesslike manner and questions were helping her focus. “She’s home sick.”
“Is there any chance that she might have gone home with someone else or the dance teacher?”
“I don’t know. That wouldn’t be normal. I don’t know.”
“Wait at the entrance of the dance studio. I’ll come and look over the situation, and we’ll go from there.”
“Thank you.”She hung up and stood, clinging to the telephone, gasping as if she’d been running. People passed by, bundled up, hurrying home. She watched them, envying them. Finally, she pulled herself together enough to return to the entrance. Alone on the bleak and windy street, she began silently reciting the Twenty-third Psalm.
If someone had asked her this morning, she would have said she didn’t even remember more than its beginning, “The Lord is my shepherd.” But now the words came to her, lifting her onto their strong, comforting shoulders. God would help her. Grandma Chloe had always said so. And she needed to believe that now, to believe in Him now. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”
Carly, please, I hope you’ve just been disobedient and have gone home with a friend without telling me. Please. Please, God, let this just be naughtiness.
It was past midnight. Leigh sat at her kitchen table, a cold mug of tea untouched in front of her. In the living room, Aunt Kitty had finally fallen asleep in a recliner under a crocheted afghan. Nate was on the phone again. The three of them had spent the evening calling all of Carly’s friends, the owner of the dance studio, the dance teacher, Carly’s principal. And they’d found out nothing except that the dance teacher had left before Carly was picked up. She’d had a doctor’s appointment. So Carly had been left waiting for Leigh, not in the studio vestibule, but outside, on the street.
Nate hung up at the end of another long phone call and then stretched his shoulders. “I’ve done all I can.” He gripped the back of the chair across from her. “Unfortunately, the law says that Carly isn’t missing until she’s been gone for twenty-four hours.”
“She could be taken to another country in twenty-four hours,” Leigh railed, sour and aching. “What’s wrong with people? This isn’t the horse-and-buggy days. If she was taken and put on a plane, she could be in China by then.” Her self-control was spinning… lurching.
Nate came to her and squeezed her shoulder, steadying her. “I know. The law needs to be changed in the case of children. But right now we’re stuck with it. Fortunately, my family has been part of the NYPD for three generations, and I have a lot of friends. I’ve called in favors, and tonight unofficially almost every cop who’s cruising is looking for Carly. An unofficial APB. My dad called a friend in the New York State Police and did the same thing. On the Q-T, every state cop is watching for a little girl with long, dark hair named Carly. We have to have faith that she’ll be found.”
Gratitude to Nate gushed up like a geyser inside her. She sprang up and threw her arms around his neck, the weeping she’d held back for hours bursting forth. Rock steady, he held her as she cried until she couldn’t weep another tear.
When she could speak again, she couldn’t stop herself from repeating the same phrases she’d said all evening, “It’s not a bad neighborhood. It wasn’t dark yet. She should have been fine. I was only ten minutes late.”
“Stop torturing yourself.” Nate held her close. She felt the stubble of new beard growth against her forehead. “You didn’t cause this. Kids are snatched sometimes right off their front steps with their mothers watching from a window.”
“What do you think has happened to my daughter?” she whispered her deepest fear. As she rested her head on his shoulder, she found it was just the right height for her to lean on. And she, the single mother, the liberated woman, needed a man to lean on right now. Not any man, but this man. Nate Gallagher.
“I don’t know. There are many possibilities. I’m still hoping that she’s just lost—that she thought she could get home by herself or was mad at you for being late and started off and got lost.” He kissed her hair once, twice. “Kids do stupid stuff like that all the time. It’s what causes gray hair in parents.”
Leigh nestled her face into the crook of his shoulder. She wished she could put stock in this theory, but she didn’t. Carly wouldn’t have left the dance-studio entrance. That wasn’t like her. And even if she had, too many things could happen to a lost child that strayed into certain parts of New York City. But Leigh didn’t voice this. Nate hadn’t, and maybe he wasn’t just being kind—maybe he’d be right.
“You know, I’ve been thinking all night what feels familiar about this place, and I’ve finally put it together. Did you have your daughter here in this apartment?”
“Yes.” She gazed up at him, wondering what his point was.
“I was here that night. Didn’t a policeman bring your sister or cousin here from the bus station?”
Leigh stared at him. “That was you?”
He nodded. “Life’s strange sometimes, isn’t it?”
Too strange.Not knowing what to say in response, she glanced over his shoulder and glimpsed the clock. I can’t think about the past right now, only Carly. “I didn’t realize the hour,” she apologized. “You should go home. You’re on duty tomorrow, aren’t you?” Please don’t leave me. I need you.
“I’ll rest on your couch,” he said without hesitation. “I gave this number in case anyone gets a lead. And I don’t want you here without me.”
She gazed up into his honest blue eyes. What would she be doing now if he hadn’t come? He was the answer to the prayers she’d uttered. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself closer to him. “Thank you,” she murmured, “thank you.” Thank you, God, for sending Nate.
The long, sleepless night finally ended. Leigh paced the apartment, feeling like the living dead. Blinking herself awake, Kitty got up from the recliner and made a fresh pot of coffee. Breathing in its aroma, hoping it would lift her, Leigh carried a cup to the front window that looked out over the street she’d come to love. She thought of Nancy, who now lived in Colorado. Of how ten years ago, Leigh had run here to Nancy’s apartment building and away from Maryland, from Trent Kinnard.
She’d prayed all night long, but God wasn’t under any obligation to her. She’d ignored him for the last twenty years. She recalled the morning after Carly had been conceived, recalled wandering among the gravestones, seeking forgiveness. She didn’t feel like she’d found any that day. Was that God’s fault or hers?
*
Nate watched Carly standing at the window, her spine straight, but her head bowed. Would they find her daughter in time? He didn’t want to think of the terror her little girl could be enduring right now, didn’t let himself think of what someone might be doing to her. He always understood that he walked in a fallen, wicked world, but he never got used to it. Evil swept into a person’s life, and nothing was ever the same. God, protect this good woman and her child.
He walked up behind Leigh. His hands claimed her shoulders. “Don’t give up hope. I haven’t.”
She reached up and placed one of her soft hands over his. “I’m trying. But I just don’t feel like I deserve… anything.”
“You haven’t mentioned much of Carly’s father,” Nate said cautiously, sensing he was tiptoeing into forbidden territory, “just that he couldn’t be involved. But are you sure he couldn’t have kidnapped her?”
“Carly was conceived in a one-night stand with a married man ten years ago. We have not kept in touch.”
He winced inside at her flat recital. How much pain did that emotionless tone hide? It was as if she were saying to him, “You might as well know what kind of tramp I am.”
“He must have had,” Nate said evenly, “a really good line to get you into bed.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “What?”
“You’re not the kind of woman who does one-night stands. I knew that the first time I met you.”
“You’re that good a judge of character?” She lifted one brow. Mocking him or herself?
“Yes, I am. A cop learns to size people up in an instant. And I’ve been a cop for over twenty years. I wouldn’t have lasted that long if I hadn’t learned how.”
She stared down into her mug. “He did have a good line, and I didn’t know he was married.”
“And you’ve never made a mistake like that again.”
She nodded with a sober chin and turned back to the window.
“I’m not married.” He massaged her shoulders. “And I don’t do one-night stands. Just so you know.”
She made no response.
“I’ll do everything I can to find her.” He squeezed her shoulders tight, letting her feel his resolve through the strength of his grip. God, let us find Carly. Soon.
Leigh stiffened.
He wondered why.
Then she stepped away from him and turned to the kitchen. “Aunt Kitty, Grandma Chloe, and my mother are down front. It looks like Uncle Thompson drove them. I think it’s his car.”
“I’m glad your family has come,” Nate said, but he wondered why she’d stiffened when she’d realized her family had come and why her voice had changed subtly. How, he couldn’t say, but he’d heard it. Why wasn’t she happy to see them? Had they rejected her for having an illegitimate child?
“I have to go on duty today,” he said. “I should be leaving now.”
She looked up into his face as if she was foundering at sea, and he’d just yanked a life preserver out of her reach.
Again, he gripped her shoulder. “I won’t stop the search for Carly. And unless she’s found earlier, at 4:00 p.m. you need to come in to the precinct and fill out the missing person’s report. Or we still might get a ransom note.”
Nodding, Leigh wondered if he’d noticed that her already low spirits had nosedived when her mother had come. The buzzer from below sounded, and Kitty spoke into the inter com in the kitchen. With a heart of concrete, Leigh went to the apartment door and opened it.
Regal with a crown of silver hair, Grandma Chloe was the first through the door, and she threw her arms around Leigh. Over her grandmother’s shoulder, Leigh saw her mother and then Uncle Thompson enter. Leigh braced herself for her mother’s words. She’d blame this on Leigh’s poor mothering, her irresponsibility.
But the condemnation didn’t come. When Chloe released Leigh, Bette folded her into an embrace. “I’m so very sorry, honey. Is there any word?”
Leigh couldn’t speak. It struck her that her mother was in her mid-sixties now. But it still surprised Leigh to see her striking mother with salt-and-pepper hair and faint lines around her eyes. And as Leigh lingered with her arms around Bette, her mother felt a bit too thin to her. And frail, frailer than Chloe. Dory was overseas with the Peace Corps. Bette was alone.
“What’s being done?” Uncle Thompson, now in his early fifties, kissed Leigh and then went to kiss Kitty’s cheek.
“This is Nate Gallagher.” Leigh stepped back from her mother, fighting an onrush of tears. Having family come tapped into a deep well of emotion.
Over the past decade—in spite of her grandmother’s repeated invitations—she and Carly had stayed away from Ivy Manor for so long, not wanting to “bring shame” on the McCaslins and the Sinclairs. I allowed that to keep Carly from knowing Ivy Manor. God, please give me another chance to he a better mother.Gooseflesh rose on her arms and she folded them around herself. “Nate’s been working on a story with me. He’s a NYPD detective.”
“I’ve talked to all your stepfather’s old contacts at the Bu reau,” Bette said, looking Nate over in detail. “Have you received a ransom note?”
“No,” Nate answered for Leigh, “I’m glad to hear you’re using your contacts. I’ve had my friends in the NYPD and state police working on this unofficially since last night.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “I’ve got to run. I’ll just have time to shower at home and change for work.” He patted Leigh’s arm and hurried out with a wave of his hand.
Leigh wanted to stop him, but she remained silent. What would I have done without him?
Smiling, Kitty took Thompson’s arm. “Why don’t you walk me home so I can do the same?”
“Sure, Kitty.” Thompson led her toward the door. He turned back. “Call us if anything develops.”
Leigh hadn’t seen them together very often, but when Thompson came, Kitty always wore the same special smile, one that was hard to analyze. But it reminded Leigh of how a person looked when she opened a lavish and completely unexpected gift. Oh, God, give me hack my daughter.
When the door closed, Leigh faced her mother and grandmother. “Thanks for coming so quickly. It’s… been awful.”
Both of them put their arms around her in a three-way hug. “God is still in control,” Chloe said. “We’ll have to trust Him to keep our little Carly safe.”
Bette nodded but didn’t look very convinced. Her expression said, “Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition.” But aloud, she said, “I’ll pour us some coffee.”
Watching her mother head toward the kitchen, Leigh realized that she was already holding a mug and took a sip of the lukewarm brew. “Sit down, Grandma.”
“I’ve been sitting for hours.” Chloe took off her scarf and coat and hung them on the crowded hooks by the door. Leigh looked at the assortment of mufflers and jackets hanging there—many of them Carly’s—and nearly burst into a fresh round of tears. She breathed deeply and sipped her coffee instead.
Bette handed Chloe a mug and then sat down on the sofa with her own. “Tell us,” she said in a completely businesslike tone, “how this happened.”
Pacing, Leigh went over the story of how she’d been delayed in picking Carly up from dance.
“You saw Mary Beth again?” Bette looked surprised. “And she’s working at a mission for drug addicts?”
Leigh finally perched on the arm of the chair across from the sofa. “I know what you mean. I was so shocked. That’s why time got away from me.”
“That’s very understandable.” Chloe paused, still standing behind the sofa. “You must not feel guilty. Carly should have been perfectly safe—”
The downstairs buzzer sounded again.
Leigh hurried to the intercom. The voice she heard surprised her. She pushed the button to unlock the door downstairs. “It’s Minnie and Cherise.”
“Oh, yes,” Chloe said, “I called them last night so they could be praying. Drake and Ilsa are away in California at Sarah’s grandson’s bar mitzvah.”
Bette opened the door and the two women plus Cherise’s youngest son, a toddler, came in and were greeted with hugs and kisses. “Cherise arrived yesterday for a visit to do some shopping and to let me have some time with my youngest great-grandbaby,” Minnie explained. “My husband and Frank Three are in Georgia helping take care of the house and kids while Cherise is here. Now tell us what’s happening and what we can do.”
Before Leigh had a chance to reply, the buzzer sounded again. Within moments, Mary Beth was there, introducing her husband, Chet. Cherise clung to Mary Beth, weeping tears of joy. Leigh watched her two oldest friends—Cherise, whom she saw rarely but who called often, and Mary Beth, who’d disappeared over fifteen years ago. She contrasted Mary Beth the 1968 hippie with the woman here now. In spite of her grieved manner this morning, Mary Beth had never looked more content. Her husband, Chet, was tall and thin and had kind brown eyes.
Why did this reunion have to happen now when her heart was so choked by Carly’s disappearance she could feel nothing else? Friends and family had gathered around Leigh even if they couldn’t do anything. Why had it happened like this—the joy and the heartbreak at the same time?
Leigh glanced at the clock. It was just after 8:00 a.m. Mentally, she counted out the hours that still had to pass before she could file an official missing person’s report. Eight hours. Eight more grueling hours.
She gazed at her mother, who was holding Cherise’s youngest on her lap. She’d expected recriminations and blame from her mother, but she’d received none. Was it possible this might finally bridge the chasm that had opened up between her mother and her ten years ago when Leigh had insisted on keeping Carly instead of giving her up? Did she have to lose her daughter to regain her mother?
The phone rang much later that night, sending a shock wave through her. In Leigh’s dimly lit living room, Nate was asleep in the recliner. Chloe and Bette were asleep in the bedrooms, and Leigh was lying on the sofa trying to rest her body if not her mind. She picked up the phone on the end table on the second ring. “Hello,” she gasped.