by Shelly Logan
“Blood,” Deborah said, holding up the purple-tipped cotton swab.
He frowned.
“It’s more of a spatter, though,” Deborah added. “Inconsistent with a stab wound.”
“It might be the kidnapper’s,” he suggested.
“Or it might be from one of the children,” Agent Wilkins said as he approached them.
His frown deepened. The man had no shred of optimism in him.
“We’ll be able to find out if it’s a match to the DNA of any of the Evans children as soon as we get back to the lab,” Deborah said. “Or a match to the DNA we found under Charlene’s fingernails.”
“There’s a spatter here, as well,” another crime scene operative, Ron, spoke from across the room. “Although it’s negative for blood.” He sniffed the cotton swab in his hand. “Might be urine.”
“We can check it for epithelials,” Agent Wilkins said.
“There’s some strands of hair, here as well,” Ron said, picking up a strand with his tweezers. “They don’t look human.”
“It could very well be hair from a raccoon, which could match the other strand of hair found on Charlene’s shirt,” Nick offered.
Ron nodded.
“No fingerprints here on the doorknob,” the third crime scene operative, Kyle, announced.
“They were careful,” Agent Wilkins remarked. “The kidnapper must have worn gloves here like he did at the Evans residence.”
“Not that careful, though,” Sgt. Manning said, appearing with an empty water bottle in her gloved hand. “I found this hidden under some leaves outside. Someone must have hastily tried to dispose of it.”
“Good job, Sergeant,” Nick praised.
“That’s not all,” Sgt. Manning continued. She took off the cap of the bottle and shone her flashlight on the mouth of the bottle. “There’s lipstick.”
“Charlene Morrow wasn’t wearing any lipstick when she was found,” Ron recalled.
“Which means there are likely two perpetrators, a male—the one whose skin Charlene scraped—and a female.”
“That would make sense,” Agent Wilkins said. “Someone would have to watch the children while Charlene’s body was disposed of. Besides, kidnapping two kids isn’t something just one person can easily accomplish. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a third person involved.”
That Nick had to agree with. All along, he had suspected that two people were involved, even suspecting Charlene and her boyfriend in the beginning. Up until now, a part of him still suspected the boyfriend, though now, he knew there was also another woman involved. Was she the guy’s real girlfriend, both of them having only used Charlene and then discarded her when she was no longer needed? Or was she a victim like Charlene, being used by the guy who was the mastermind of it all?
He shook his head. He would save his questions for later. For now, he had to find answers, clues.
He returned to the room he was previously in, searching more thoroughly, shining his flashlight on every inch of the floor and the walls, testing for any loose floorboards, peeking inside every hole.
Nothing.
He was about to give up, about to force open one of the windows, the one that still had the pane intact, to let in some air into the room so that he could breathe, when suddenly, he noticed something on the window.
Like the other window in the room, this one was dusty, but there were gaps in the dust and when he stepped back, he realized that there was a message on written on the glass.
A message in a child’s handwriting.
Help me Mommy.
What made his heart seem to stop, though, was the name written below the message.
Lena.
* * * *
All clear, Lena thought as she peeked out of her bedroom.
From where she stood, she could see the bathroom door at the end of the hall, which was not completely shut, and she could hear the sound of the water running from inside, along with the voices of Jack and the woman with the curly hair.
Jack was being given a bath, just as she had thought.
And it was the perfect chance for her to escape.
Slowly, she tiptoed down the hall, glancing back at the bathroom door after every few steps to make sure the woman with the curly hair had not seen her. At the top of the stairs, she paused, the sound of Jack’s laughter making her feel a little bad about leaving him. She told herself, though, that he would be all right and making a silent promise that she would come back for him, she continued down the stairs, still on her tiptoes.
Once she reached the bottom, she looked around, afraid she would see the girl called Vicky with the red hair or the man with the ring on his lip called Bill. Each time she saw it, she shuddered to think of how painful it must feel, although Bill certainly didn’t seem to be bothered by it. It was one of the things that made him scary, making her want to run away and hide under a table each time she saw him.
Unable to see any of them, she heaved a sigh of relief and walked towards the kitchen, thinking of using the back door.
It was bolted but she managed to undo the bolt after the third try. Grinning triumphantly, she opened the door very slowly so that it would not creak and when she had opened it halfway, she slipped through, crawling across the backyard towards the fence gate at the side of the house that led to the driveway.
Now what?
The fence was too tall, just as she thought it would be, which meant she had to stand on something to get over it.
She went back to the backyard, searching for something she could use, and seeing the metal chairs, she started to pull one towards the gate, having a hard time because it was heavy and she was still trying to be quiet.
Just when she had placed the chair against the gate, though, she stiffened, hearing the sound of a car pulling up the driveway.
Oh no.
For a moment, she thought about going back to the house but thinking she had already come so far, she stayed, waiting until she heard the garage door close before standing on the chair, going over the fence and then running towards the street.
“Hey! Come back here!” She heard Vicky’s voice from behind her, shouting.
She kept going.
She heard footsteps following her but didn’t glance back. She just kept going.
Please don’t let them catch me. Please don’t…
She felt strong arms wrap around her, grabbing her and then pinning her to the ground.
“No!”
“Be quiet, Le…Lani, or you’re going to get it,” Vicky threatened.
“Let me go! My name is Lena, not Lani! Help!”
Vicky placed a hand over her mouth. “Listen, Lena. If you behave, I’m going to give you a bunny but if you don’t…”
Lena bit her hand. “I don’t want a bunny! I want my Mommy!”
“Why you little…”
“What’s going on here?”
At the sound of Bill’s voice, both Lena and Vicky grew quiet.
Lena shivered, the look on Bill’s face letting her know she was really in trouble now.
Big trouble.
“Help!”
* * * *
Across the street, Gwen set down the tray of empty plastic medicine cups in her hand beside the window, her freshly trimmed eyebrows furrowed as she tried to make sense of the scene she had just witnessed.
She had been working as Mrs. Stevens’ nurse for six months now and yet, she had never seen a child in the neighborhood before.
She had never seen those two young ones who had dragged the child away, either, trying their best to subdue her as they brought her back inside the house.
Mrs. Lawrence’s children perhaps and her granddaughter?
But then, as far as she knew, Mrs. Lawrence did not have any children. Mrs. Stevens often spoke of her with an expression of pity, in fact, saying that even though she wasn’t in the best of health, she was still better off than the other woman, who would not have any children to care for her—or pay
for someone to care for her—when she ailed and grew old.
The child did not look like Mrs. Lawrence, as well, nor like the two who had changed after her.
Gwen scratched her chin.
It was very strange, indeed.
Chapter Nineteen
It was strange, Kate thought as she looked at her phone for what felt like the hundredth time in the past few hours. Since she got out of bed, she had sent Bryan several messages and yet, he had not replied even once, nor had he picked up or returned any of her calls.
What was going on?
“You look worried,” Lloyd observed, sitting beside her on the couch and handing her a cup of coffee. “And not about the kids.”
She looked at him as she took the cup. “Perceptive as always.”
“I thought you said you and Bryan had talked everything out,” he said, ignoring the remark.
Yes, she had told him that last night, among the many other things she had told him in the long conversation they had shared until past midnight, long after the last slice of apple pie had been finished. After he had told her he was backing off, she no longer felt uncomfortable around him and so they had talked as friends, reminiscing the wonderful memories they had shared in the past without bringing up the painful ones, talking about life without each other, about things they had never talked about before.
Now, she felt more comfortable around him than she had ever been before, closer to him even, and so she did not hesitate to tell him what was on her mind.
“I thought so, too.”
“Then maybe he’s just busy,” Lloyd offered. “He’s a doctor, after all.”
Kate nodded. Right, he could just be busy with his patient. He had been called to an emergency, after all. Then again, he had never been too busy to send her even a single, short message before, to tell her that he was all right and that he loved her.
Well, maybe he’s just really busy this time.
“Maybe,” she said out loud.
“You don’t sound convinced.”
She frowned. “I’m beginning to think your perceptiveness isn’t such a good thing.”
He chuckled, then took a sip from his cup. “That means I’m right, doesn’t it?”
“Well…he’s never not returned my messages or calls before.”
“So what? Are you thinking that something happened to him?”
She shrugged, though she certainly hoped that wasn’t true.
“Or are you thinking he’s with another woman?”
She stopped bringing her cup to her lips halfway. “He wouldn’t do something like that.”
He gave a meaningful grin.
“What?” she demanded to know the meaning behind it.
“Your quick, defensive reaction to that one means you’re more troubled by that scenario.”
“Wow. You didn’t tell me you’ve studied psychology, too, since we divorced,” she said dryly.
He let that go. “Don’t worry, Kate.” He patted her on the shoulder. “If he makes the mistake of leaving you, I’m still here, you know.”
She gave him a puzzled look. “I thought you said you were taking yourself out of the picture.”
“I did,” he told her. “But the picture changes if Bryan’s no longer in it. Remember, I only said I was stepping back so you could be happy.”
She looked away, not knowing whether to be pleased or bothered by that remark. If Bryan left her, would she go back to Lloyd?
She shook her head. That question was absurd. Lloyd would never leave her, especially not now, not after what had happened yesterday.
“Bryan’s probably just busy,” she told him.
Lloyd chuckled. “Yeah, probably.”
She changed the topic, not wanting to dwell on the troubling thought that there was something wrong with Bryan, talking instead about the house, asking him whether or not a renovation would do it some good, and whether or not she should get a landscape artist to work on the backyard to make it look even more attractive, perhaps add a garden on the other end, across the newly installed playground.
They were still absorbed in that topic when the doorbell rang. Kate went to answer it.
“Lt. Paulson,” she greeted the police officer in surprise, not expecting him.
“Good morning, Mrs. Evans. May I come in?”
She nodded and opened the door wider to let him in, her surprise leaving her, turning into dread as she realized Lt. Paulson could very well be at her house to bring her some bad news about the children.
“Good morning, Mr. Marrick,” Lt. Paulson greeted Lloyd, as well, as he entered the living room. “It’s good that you’re here.” He turned to Kate. “I have something to tell you both.”
Kate took a seat beside Lloyd, her heart beginning to pound.
Lloyd placed a comforting hand on her thigh, then looked at the lieutenant. “Let’s cut down to the chase, shall we?”
“We found the place where the children were brought to, presumably after they were kidnapped,” Lt. Paulson informed. “It’s an old cottage in the woods.”
“You found the children?” Kate asked with eyes wide.
Lt. Paulson looked away. “Unfortunately, the kids were no longer there, but we do have proof that the children were there.” He placed a photo down on the coffee table. “This was the message we saw on one of the windows.”
Kate grabbed the photo, then covered her mouth as she let out a gasp, tears brimming in her eyes. “Lena.”
“The fingerprint left on the glass was a match to Lena’s so we’re sure she was the one who left the message,” Lt. Paulson added.
“What about Jack?” Kate asked. “Is there proof that he’s alive?”
Lt. Paulson placed another photo on the table, a photo of a small piece of cloth that had a red race car. “We found this piece of cloth caught on a low branch not far from the cottage.”
“That’s from Jack’s pajamas,” Kate confirmed. She looked at Lloyd. “They’re alive, Lloyd.”
“I told you they would be,” he said, squeezing her thigh. He turned to Lt. Paulson. “Do you know where they are now?”
Lt. Paulson shook his head. “Unfortunately, we do not know that yet, but we have found more evidence that might lead us to the identity of the kidnappers.”
“Kidnappers?” Kate grew puzzled. “There’s more than one?”
“We are now under the belief that there are at least two,” Lt. Paulson answered. “A male and a female.”
“You’re sure of this?” Lloyd asked.
“We found a bottle with lipstick near the cottage,” Lt. Paulson said.
“A male and a female,” Kate repeated. “A couple?”
“We do not know that yet,” Lt. Paulson replied. “But we are hoping we will find out who they are so they can lead us to the children.”
“Even if we find the kidnappers, there is no guarantee they will tell us where the children are, is there?” Lloyd challenged.
“That is true,” Lt. Paulson acceded. “But if we know who the kidnappers are, we can at least have more clues, many more clues that can lead us to where Lena and Jack are.”
Kate nodded, understanding. “Thank you for keeping us informed, Lt. Paulson.”
Having no more questions, she accompanied the police officer back to the door. Then, she returned to the living room to sit beside Lloyd, picking up the photo Lt. Paulson had left behind once more and pressing it to her heart.
“Don’t worry, darling. I’m coming for you,” she whispered.
“Lena’s a smart girl,” Lloyd said.
“Smart like you,” she told him.
“And a fighter like you,” he said. “I’m sure she’s all right.”
“I hope so, Lloyd.” She took his hand and squeezed it. “I hope so.”
He squeezed her hand back, tenderly looking into her eyes. Then, he placed his arm around her, holding her close. She surrendered into his embrace, relishing the warmth she found there, taking comfort in the fact that he was
in this battle with her, drawing strength from him.
Everything will be all right.
She closed her eyes, snuggling into his shoulder, but quickly opened them when she heard a throat clearing. At once, she turned around, freeing herself from Lloyd’s arms, and when she saw Bryan standing there, she stood up.
“Bryan!” She ran to him excitedly, ready to wrap her arms around him. “I was so worried about you.”
Bryan gently pushed her away. “You seemed to be doing fine without me. In fact, I’d say that with Lloyd around, you didn’t miss me at all.”
“Of course, not,” she said, feeling hurt. “He was just comforting me.”
“Like he was comforting you in the bathroom before?” he asked angrily.
She frowned, not liking how the conversation was going or where it was heading. “Bryan, I…”
“What about the kiss? Was that him comforting you, too?” Bryan asked icily.
She froze. How did he find out about the kiss?
“It’s true, isn’t it? You shared a kiss with Lloyd.”
“How did you…?”
“It’s true, isn’t it?” he demanded. “Tell me. After all, you did say there weren’t going to be anymore secrets between us.”
She winced at his words, at the pain and hatred dripping from them, but managed to nod. “It’s true, and I was planning on telling you.”
Bryan shook his head. “You should have told me right after it happened.”
She could not say anything, then, knowing that he was right.
“It wasn’t Kate’s fault,” Lloyd finally spoke up. “I was the one who kissed her. And you’re right, I was trying to comfort her after…”
“But she kissed you back, didn’t she?” He looked at her even though the question was directed at Lloyd. “That’s why she felt guilty about it. That’s why she kept it a secret from me.”
“It was an accident,” she told him, tears brimming in her eyes once more. “I was so upset and…”
“And I wasn’t there,” Bryan finished the sentence for her. “So you fell into the arms of the man who was available at that moment and kissed him.”
A tear streaked down her cheek. “It’s not like that. I…”
A phone rang, disrupting the tense atmosphere. At first, Kate just stood there, sobbing, not making a move to answer it, but after four rings, she went to pick it up.