The Taking of Carly Bradford

by Richards, Ramona

  Tyler leaned closer, tilted his head to one side and kissed her, a bare whisper of a kiss, a soft kiss of hope, of promise. As he drew back, Dee closed her eyes, her voice hushed. “Do that again.”

  He did, releasing her hand and taking her into his arms, holding her close long after the kiss ended. Dee slid her arms around him, leaning her head against his shoulder, taking in the rich scent of his cologne and relishing the reassuring comfort of his strength.

  After a few moments, Tyler whispered. “It’s getting late, if we’re still going to talk to Jenna.”

  With a deep sigh, Dee pushed away from him. “True. It shouldn’t take long. And I need to get back to the retreat by six for dinner.”

  Tyler stood, pulling her up. “We need to get back to the retreat by six.”

  She nudged him playfully. “You just want a free meal.”

  “Well…the company’s not bad, either.”

  Dee laughed, and let him help her into the car. He drove back into downtown and parked near the station, and started the short walk toward Fourth Street. They hadn’t gone far when Wayne shouted from the doorway of the station. “Tyler!”

  They turned, and Wayne pointed at Tyler. “Phone call! Urgent!”

  Tyler checked his watch, then looked up at Dee. “Let me get this. Jenna doesn’t close until five.”

  “Okay.”

  He held the door of the station for her, and she settled on one of the visitor chairs, ready to make small talk with Peg. There was barely time for hello, however, before Tyler barreled out of his office and grabbed her by the arm.

  Trotting beside him, she almost hit the door as he yanked it open. “What’s going on?”

  His face darkened like a sudden storm. “Zach Riley is back in town.”

  Tyler covered the ten miles to Zach Riley’s secluded nineteenth-century cottage in record time. Dee clutched the door handle the entire time, refusing to show any fear at the tight turns as he took along the rural New Hampshire lanes.

  As the cruiser swung into Zach’s gravel drive, however, Dee suddenly grasped Tyler’s sense of urgency. In front of the house sat a small truck, half loaded with cardboard boxes. Zach Riley was leaving town—again.

  “Fishing in Canada? Hardly.” Zach Riley poured coffee for both of them and handed over two sturdy ceramic mugs. The bespectacled teacher motioned at the sofa in his living room, which was one of the few clear surfaces in his house. “Please, sit.”

  Dee perched warily on the edge of the cushions, her gaze taking in as much detail as she could in the room smothered in books, display cases filled with butterflies and stacks of papers. On one stack of magazines, a cat snoozed, his chest rising and falling in a soft rhythm.

  Tyler joined Dee, addressing his questions to the teacher. “Why would the school tell us that?”

  Zach shrugged and eased down into an ancient wingback chair. “I’m not sure. I didn’t tell them where I had gone, mostly because it wasn’t their concern. The secretary, who is a good lady, by the way, probably just assumed it.”

  Tyler’s voice didn’t relinquish its driving tone. “So where did you go?”

  The teacher sipped his coffee, then set the cup on the floor near the cat. The feline, smelling the aroma, stirred and stretched. “Let’s say I had a crisis of conscience.” Zach adjusted the collar of his flannel shirt. “Over the past couple of years, I’ve grown increasingly dismayed with my ability to reach the kids.” He gestured to the stacks of books. “I’m too studious. Not exciting enough.” He sat straighter in the chair. “Carly was actually the last child who seemed to respond to me.” He paused, shaking his head. “I only heard about her disappearance a couple of weeks ago.”

  Dee felt incredulous. “A couple of weeks? How could you not—”

  Tyler cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. “So where did you go?”

  “A hermitage. Totally cut off from the rest of the world.”

  Tyler sat quite still. “To pray?”

  Zach nodded, and Dee stared at both of them in surprise. “Pray about what?”

  At Zach’s feet, the cat began lapping coffee from the cup. Zach glanced down but did not move. “I applied to a seminary in Texas. They accepted me. That’s why I’m packing.”

  “So how did you feel when you heard about Carly?” Dee asked. “Since she’s your favorite student.”

  Tyler stiffened, but Zach didn’t seem ruffled at all by the question. “Devastated. I couldn’t think. That’s actually why I decided to come home. I found out the seminary accepted me after I got here. Things are in a bit of an upheaval, or I would have already come to see you.”

  Zach stood and walked to a bookshelf, sifting through several notebooks. He finally pulled one free, ripped a sheet off the top and handed it to Tyler.

  “I made a list. I wasn’t Carly’s teacher, but I was around her a lot, especially after she found out that I was something of an expert on butterflies. She’s obsessed with them.”

  Dee’s eyes widened. “She sought you out?”

  Zach finally smiled, a small, sad one that didn’t quite light up his eyes. “Yes. Carly can be quite driven when she sets her mind to something. I fully expect to see her in public office someday. She’s relentless.”

  He pointed at the paper. “We’d use field trips to check out pet stores and museums. That’s a list of people who showed a little too much interest in Carly for my comfort. She’s a beautiful little girl. That sometimes drew in folks that made my skin crawl.”

  Tyler glanced over the list of names. “Anyone make her nervous?”

  Zach shook his head. “Carly never met a stranger. She’d talk to anyone about butterflies or God.”

  Dee stood up. “God?”

  “When I told Carly I would be gone in a few weeks, she told me that God would let me know what I needed to do. Unshakable, that one.”

  Dee stepped closer, enough that Zach stiffened, obviously a little uncomfortable with her closeness. “How tall are you, Mr. Riley?”

  Zach looked down at her. “Six-four. Why?”

  Dee turned to Tyler, waiting. He got the message and stood with a wry smile. He reached to shake Zach’s hand. “Don’t mind my assistant here,” he said, with a nod at Dee. “She’s a little obsessed herself.”

  “Oh!” Zach stepped over a stack of books. “One more thing.” Carefully, as if he were handling precious china, he pulled a wooden case from another shelf. Turning, he handed the case to Tyler.

  “This is a display of my rarest finds. Would you see that Carly gets it when you find her?”

  Tyler glanced down at the rows of stiff and beautiful butterflies. “I will.”

  They left, picking their way cautiously through Zach’s belongings. In the car, Tyler glanced sideways at her. “That was a little obvious, don’t you think?”

  She shrugged, then grinned at him. “You’d already excluded him. Didn’t hurt to verify that he was too tall.” Her smile faded. “He wasn’t the one who attacked me.”

  Tyler backed the cruiser out of the drive. “No. In fact, I’m surprised the man even kills the butterflies he collects.”

  “But I bet he’ll make a good preacher.”

  When they arrived back at the station, Tyler turned to Dee before getting out. “Let me get Wayne started on these names, and I’ll put the case in my office. It won’t take long.”

  Dee glanced at her watch. “Look, Jenna’s about to close. This shouldn’t take more than five minutes. There’s no real need for you to come. I’ll come back to the station when I’m finished and fill you in.”

  He lowered his chin and looked at her, eyes narrow. “Be careful.”

  She grinned, raised up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry.”

  “Hmph.” But he relented, opening the back door of the cruiser to get the case as Dee headed up the street, walking past the art gallery on the corner and into Jenna’s floral shop.

  A bell dinged lightly as she entered, and she inhaled,
taking in the blended, almost overpowering scent of hundreds of flowers. The aroma of roses was the most prominent, although Dee could also detect the heady odors of lilies and chysanthemums.

  Jenna emerged from the back, wiping her hands on a cloth, which she folded and tucked into the pocket of the apron covering her slacks and knit shirt. Her face lit up with a bright smile. “Dee! I was expecting you earlier.”

  Dee sighed. “I know. I’m sorry I’m late. Something came up at the last minue.”

  Jenna nodded. “I understand, but now I’m in a rush. I was just about the close up. Then I have a couple of deliveries to make. Would you mind riding along with me?”

  Dee hesitated. She didn’t really want to leave, especially with Tyler waiting on her.

  Jenna responded immediately to her hesitation. “We could stop by my house if our chat runs longer. It’s on the way to the retreat. I would be glad to take you home afterward. I’ve not seen Maggie in a while. It would be nice to say hello.” Without waiting for more hesitation, Jenna pointed behind her. “Let me lock up the back, and we’ll go out the front.”

  Five minutes later, Dee sat on the passenger side of Jenna’s late-model sedan, a vase of roses held between her knees. As they passed the Mercer Police Department, Dee pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and thumbed in a text message to Tyler.

  She smiled to herself. So he won’t worry.

  FIFTEEN

  Jenna turned her car into the gravel drive, bumping the tires up over a raised curb designed to keep the rainwater from the street out of the drive. The car rocked a bit on its shocks as she braked in front of one side of the two-car garage. She tossed her head, causing her long black hair to shift and flow over one shoulder, and smiled at Dee. “We’ll go in the front.”

  Dee tucked her notebook under her arm and got out, following Jenna to the door. “I appreciate your taking the time to talk to me.”

  Jenna shifted the keys in her hand and selected the one for the front door. “Not at all. I’ve wished I could be more help since I found that little girl’s dress. I don’t know what I can tell you, but we’ll find out.”

  They entered a comfortably appointed but tidy living room and dining room combo, darkened by thick drapes. Jenna snapped on a lamp near the sofa. “I keep the drapes closed to help with the bills.” She paused to set her purse and keys on the table beneath the lamp, then took a deep breath. “Look, do you mind if I take a quick shower? I feel like I’m coated in junk from the shop.”

  “Not at all. I can just sit in here and get my questions ready.”

  Jenna’s smile widened, then she pointed to a swinging door at the back of the dining room. “Thanks. There’s soft drinks in the fridge. Oh, and bottled water, if you’d prefer.” She turned toward the hall, then stopped, looking thoughtful. “You know, I may have seen the guy at my garbage clearer than I told Tyler. I’ve really been thinking about it. We’ll talk more in a minute.” With a perky lift to her step, she left the room.

  That’s good news. If Jenna’s description matched her own recollections of the attacker in the woods…Feeling a bit smug, Dee headed through the swinging door into the kitchen and found an avocado-colored refrigerator. She opened the fridge and stood there, a bit surprised at the ample supply of cans filling the shelves. Wow, she must really love the caffeine. Dee pulled out a soda and let the door swing shut. She popped the top, allowing the fizz to settle a moment while she looked around the kitchen.

  Like the rest of the house, the kitchen was clean and tidy, but dated. She had grown up with the wallpaper, and the table and chairs against one wall showed their age through the simple wear-and-tear of use. The entire house had a musty odor, like a house that had been shut tight for many years. It felt odd, but Dee tried to shake it off. Maybe florists just don’t make enough money to redecorate just because trends change. Still…the house gave her the creeps, and she hoped Jenna would return soon so she could get out.

  That’s when she saw the artwork on the fridge, a child’s drawing of a curly-haired dog and little girl, a kite soaring over their heads. Oversized butterflies in a kaleidoscope of colors danced around their heads. Dee frowned, puzzled. The drawing looked new, but in the car, Jenna had mentioned that her daughter, Elaine, had been living with her father in Oregon. And the style looked familiar, making her think she’d seen this drawing before. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the artwork, trying to remember. Butterflies, I’ve seen these butterflies. Her breath stopped as a flicker of recognition hit her memory. The Bradfords’. She’d seen them at—No. Oh, no. A frisson of anxiety slid down her spine, and she shivered. No, it couldn’t be. No.

  She pushed the thought away, and stepped back from the fridge. No. Wishful thinking. Probably a neighbor’s child. It can’t be Carly.

  Without thinking, she said it aloud. “Carly? Carly!”

  The result was a frenzy of tapping from beneath her feet that made Dee yelp and jump away from a vent in the floor. She looked down, eyes searching frantically. In her confusion, Dee called aloud, “Who’s tapping? Carly!”

  “Yes!” The scream was young and frantic, echoing through the floor vent. “I’m Carly Bradford.”

  The words dropped Dee to her knees. “Carly! Where are you!”

  “Basement! Help me! PLEASE!”

  Dee scrambled on hands and knees toward the vent, every muscle shaking with adrenaline. She put her mouth close. “How do I get there?”

  “There are stairs. I don’t know where they are.”

  Tyler! She had to get Tyler. “I’m going to call the police. Hang on!”

  Dee grabbed one of the chairs to pull herself up, clawing at her pocket for her cell. She flipped it open and dialed 911.

  “No, I don’t think so.” The voice behind Dee was adamant and commanding.

  Dee spun to face Jenna, just in time to see an aluminum bat in its downward swing. She threw up her arms, but they were not enough protection. The bat found its mark and Dee’s world slammed into darkness.

  Tyler stared at the text message from Dee, both confused and irritated.

  He hated text messages. Half the time he had no idea what they meant. Even his mom was better at them, to the point that it had become an in-house joke among the other officers.

  Fletcher opened his office door, and he turned the phone toward him. “Do you have any idea what this…” His words faded as he looked at Fletcher’s troubled expression. “What’s wrong?”

  The older detective held his own cell phone in one hand. “That was Maggie. She wanted to know if you are still bringing Dee back in time for dinner. Dee apparently sent her a text message, but, Maggie’s not sure if it meant you were going to bring her home or if she planned to walk back. Didn’t you say you two were going to talk to Jenna Czock at her shop?”

  Tyler nodded, standing. “Dee wanted to ask about the person Jenna saw at her garbage. I brought in evidence from Zach Riley and she went without me. She didn’t expect it to take more than a few minutes, then she sent this.” He handed Fletcher his phone as he checked his watch, the old fear returning to the pit of his stomach. Where is she? “Did Maggie try her cell?”

  Fletcher glanced at Tyler’s phone again. “Maggie’s tried to call it four times already. No answer. If I’m reading this right, she left with Jenna to deliver some flowers, then planned to meet you at Jackson’s Retreat at six.” He paused. “Flowers?”

  Tyler tried to ignore the tightening knot in his stomach. “Jenna usually closes at five. It’s after six. I can’t believe I lost…maybe they went to Jenna’s house to chat.”

  “Maybe.” Fletcher wasn’t convinced. He handed back Tyler’s cell. “I’m going to see if Wayne’s finished that list of SUV owners in the area.”

  As Fletcher turned, Peg pushed by him, her face pale, her breath coming in short pants.

  “Mom, what’s wrong?”

  She swallowed hard. “We just got a 9-1-1 call from Dee’s cell, but it went dead before we could get anything else.”
<
br />   Tyler grabbed his hat. “Fletcher!”

  The gentle rocking of the SUV woke Dee by sending waves of lightning-hot pain through her head and left arm. She groaned, a sound almost drowned out by the soft sobs coming from the backseat and the sounds of a 1970s rock band booming out of the speakers. In the front seat, Jenna hummed along with the music, occasionally singing an off-tune word or phrase.

  Dee opened her eyes, squinting against the light, and tried to get a bearing on her surroundings. Clearly, she was in the back compartment of the SUV, her hands tied behind her back, exacerbating the pain in her arm. Her left biceps had taken the brunt of the blow from the aluminum bat, and Dee hope it hadn’t cracked the bone. A tight, dry feeling at the edge of her hairline told her the bat had reopened the cut from the accident and that the blood had matted in her hair.

  A large cooler blocked her view of the back hatch, and several matching suitcases pressed her body up against the back of the seat and covered her legs. Dee sighed. It would be impossible to get to one of the back light panels or raise up enough to get the attention of a passing car. Besides, with the dark tint covering the windows and the height of the SUV, a tall man would have to be standing next to the car, peering directly into the windows, to see anything unusual. Dee couldn’t imagine Jenna letting anyone get that close.

  Tyler had been right when he suggested the kidnapper planned to move Carly. Jenna must have been preparing this move since before the sandals went missing. But why had she taken Carly in the first place? “And why didn’t she kill me there in the kitchen?” Dee’s throat felt raw, irritated by the question, and she swallowed hard.

  In the backseat, the quiet sobs suddenly fell silent, and there was a distinctive sniff. Then another.

  Dee froze. She hadn’t thought she had spoken loud enough for anyone to hear her. But…maybe…

  “Carly?”

  Sniff.

  An odd wave of emotion, a braid of both fear and hope, flooded Dee, and she took a deep breath. “Carly, if you can hear me, don’t say anything. If you can, prop your arm up on the backseat.”