by David Bell
“Maybe she gained weight or something. To blend in.”
“She wouldn’t gain weight if her life depended on it,” Jenna said. She reached across the table, past the iPad and the mugs of coffee, and placed her hand on top of Rick’s. “I really appreciate you trying so hard. It does make me feel good that so many people care about finding Celia. It does. I’ve been on those message boards. I know how much people want to help. But I think you have a blind spot here. It’s not Celia.”
Rick managed to smile even though she could see the disappointment—and some sadness—in his eyes. “Are you sure I’m not onto something here?” he asked. “It felt so right.”
“Did you show these to the police?” Jenna asked. “You said you didn’t think they’d listen to you, but they might look at these photos.”
“I talked to a detective back home,” he said. “He basically blew me off.”
“The photos aren’t very conclusive.” Jenna reached back to earlier in their conversation, before the ridiculous photos appeared. “You said someone on one of the message boards told you about Celia’s grandparents being from Indiana?”
“Yes. I showed her the pictures too. Online, in a private chat. See, I didn’t want to share them publicly and make a big stink before I knew more. But I showed them to this lady, and she had a different reaction from you. She said she thought they were Celia.”
“And this is the same person who told you about Indiana?”
“That’s right.”
“And who is this?” Jenna asked. Her phone rang. Jared. She had forgotten to check in. She held up her finger. “I’m sorry, Rick. I have to take this. It’s my son.”
“Jared.”
Jenna gave him a look, one she hoped said back off. She didn’t like him acting so familiar with her son. Rick looked down.
“Hey, bud, I’m sorry,” Jenna said. “I’m fine. I just forgot to call.”
“Mom, you’ve got to get home.”
He sounded frantic.
“What happened?”
“Just get home. You need to get back here.”
“Did you call the police?” Jenna asked.
“We don’t need the police. Just get here. I need your help. We need your help.”
We?
“I’m on my way.” She grabbed her purse and coat and stood up. “I have to get home.”
“Do you want a ride? You said something about the police. I can help—”
“No.”
She started to go, but Rick’s voice brought her back. “Do you want to know the person’s name so you can check her out?”
“Whose name?”
“On the message board. The one who saw the pictures.”
“I don’t care, Rick.”
“Teddy Bear,” he said. “That’s it. Teddy Bear.”
“Thanks for the muffin.” Jenna rushed out of the diner.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
Jenna raced across the lawn. Then she was up the stairs and trying the front door, which was locked. She fumbled for her keys and knocked at the same time. She was worried something had happened inside, that whatever was upsetting Jared had rendered him unable to open the door.
But before she pulled her keys out, she heard the lock unlatching from the other side. Jared yanked the door open, stepping back as Jenna came in. He looked unhurt, but his eyes were wide.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
He closed the door behind her and locked it again. She spun to see him better and asked the question once more.
He placed his hand on her arm and started guiding her toward the kitchen. “You’ve got to be cool, Mom.”
“About what?”
“I thought about not calling you. I really did. I thought about leaving and maybe telling you later where we were.”
“Why would you do that? And who’s we?”
“But I think we need your help,” he said. “I think we’re all in over our heads at this point.”
They reached the entrance to the kitchen, his hand still on her arm.
Jenna saw Natalie Rose sitting at their table.
• • •
The girl looked scared. And dirty.
Her left cheek was smeared with something that might have been blood and might have been mud. Her jeans were streaked with dirt, and the material on her right knee was torn, exposing her skin. Her hair was greasy and matted as though she hadn’t bathed for days.
“Shit,” Jenna said. “Are you okay?”
The girl nodded, averting her eyes.
Jenna dropped her purse and coat on the floor. She moved away from Jared and toward the girl she knew was named Natalie. She watched Jenna with big, scared eyes. Jenna came alongside her and did the only thing she could think to do. She wrapped her arms around Natalie and pulled her close. Natalie didn’t resist. She smelled musty and rank, but Jenna wouldn’t let go. She didn’t care about anything else but making sure the girl felt safe.
“Thank you,” Natalie said, her voice just above a whisper.
Her mother was probably dead. How long had it been since someone had held her this way? The way only a mother could?
Jenna straightened up. “How did you end up here?”
“Mom, can we go easy on her? She’s been through hell to get here. She came to the door right after you left, so it hasn’t even been that long.”
He was right. She knew he was. Jenna turned back to Natalie and once again took in her condition. Dirty, ragged, smelly, and scared. No one wanted to sit around like that.
“Are you hurt?” Jenna asked. “I’m a nurse, you know. Is anything on your body hurt?”
“No. Not really.”
“Do you want to take a shower?” Jenna asked. “Have you eaten anything?”
“I ate a little. But I would like a shower, if you don’t mind.”
“We don’t mind. I have some clothes you can borrow. We can . . . let’s put these in the laundry room.”
“You can throw them away,” Natalie said. “I don’t even want to see them again.”
“Sure. Do you know where the bathroom is? You were here once before. At least.”
“Only once,” Jared said, his voice defensive.
“You can show her to the bathroom, then. Show her the towels and all that. I’ll find some clothes for her to wear.”
Jenna went to her bedroom and fumbled through her drawers in a haze. She tried to imagine the trail of craziness that had brought that girl to their door. She had nowhere else in the world to go, no one else she trusted or cared about. She looked so young, scared, and alone. Such a young age to be so adrift.
Jenna carried a small stack of things back to the bathroom door. She had sweatpants, yoga pants, a couple of T-shirts, and a sweatshirt. Jenna knocked lightly on the door and handed them through the narrow opening. “Take your time, honey.”
Natalie thanked her. Once the door was closed and locked, the water started running.
Jenna nodded to Jared and they walked out to the living room together.
“Do you know what happened?” Jenna asked.
“Not really. She got away from her dad and came back here. She was looking for me. I don’t think she trusted anyone else, not even the police.”
“I don’t doubt that. But we are going to have to call them.”
“Mom, no way. You can see what kind of shape she’s in. It’s like she’s shell-shocked or whatever. You know, PTSD. You can’t have the cops come and question her.”
“She’s part of an investigation,” Jenna said. “If we don’t call, we get in trouble.”
“Is that all you care about?”
“I’ll ignore that remark. You know better than that.” She went out to the kitchen and started pulling food out of the refrigerator. She could make grilled cheese or soup.
Maybe heat up a leftover chicken breast and potatoes. She put the kettle on for tea or hot chocolate. Or both. Whatever the girl wanted. She felt Jared behind her, watching her movements in the kitchen. She waited for him to speak.
“Mom?”
“Yeah.”
“Can we just take it slow? Let her get cleaned up. Let her eat.”
And let her tell the story. Jenna wanted to hear it as much as Jared. Maybe more.
“Okay,” Jenna said. “I’ll be patient. For a short time.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
When Jared saw Natalie enter the kitchen—her hair and face clean, a shy smile on her face—he felt the electric desire rising inside his body again. She looked so beautiful, so fresh and perfect, like a vision, even though she wore just an old sweatshirt of his mom’s, one that advertised a clothing store in the mall nobody went to anymore.
Natalie placed her hand on his shoulder as she passed by, and then she trailed down his arm and squeezed his hand. Her skin felt warm, and he didn’t even mind sharing the moment of affection in front of his mother.
His mom pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and handed Natalie a plate of food. Chicken, potatoes, a cup of hot tea. Natalie thanked her, and then they all ate together. There wasn’t much conversation. Natalie ate quickly, and between almost every mouthful she stopped to thank his mom for her hospitality. His mom brushed it off, saying it was no big deal and she was just happy to see Natalie okay.
Jared had to admit, as he watched the two of them interact, that his mom really could handle herself in a crisis. She knew just the right things to say and the right things to do when someone needed help. She might push too hard sometimes and overstep her bounds, but he was thrilled to have her here taking care of Natalie.
Natalie ate two plates of food. When they were finished, Jared cleared the table and his mom sat at her place, her eyes fixed on Natalie. Jared knew what was coming. They all did. He knew they were all so quiet during the meal because they still needed to have the larger conversation, and everyone—especially Natalie—was saving up their energy for it.
His mom didn’t hesitate. “Natalie, honey, we need to get in touch with the police. Everybody’s been looking for you.”
Jared finished what he was doing at the sink and came back to the table. Natalie sat between them, her eyes staring at the tabletop, her hands tucked into her lap. Jared wanted to reach out and take one of them, and so he did, lifting her hand in his. She looked over at him and smiled, their fingers intertwining.
“I’m afraid,” Natalie said. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”
“What do you mean?” Jared asked. “You can stay here as long as you want. Right, Mom?”
“It probably doesn’t work that way,” his mom said.
“No, it doesn’t,” Natalie said, looking at his mom, her voice gathering force. “I know. My mom . . . I think she’s dead. My dad . . . My grandparents are all dead too. I have an aunt, my mom’s sister, but they were never close. I don’t think she wants anything to do with me.” She looked over at Jared, looking sad and resigned. “I’m a minor. I’m only fifteen. That means foster care. I’ll get placed somewhere, maybe even back in Nebraska. I know kids that’s happened to, and it’s really shitty.”
“But we can—we must be able to do something.” He looked at Natalie and then back at his mom. She was giving him that look she always gave him when he acted naive or idealistic, a look he hated because it made him feel like a child. And by certain measures he still was. Certainly compared to Natalie, who had been through several lifetimes of experience in her fifteen years, maybe in the last couple of weeks alone. “There’s nothing?”
Natalie was shaking her head. “That’s why I came here instead of going to the police or any place else. I wanted to see you again. One more time before all this hit the fan.” She squeezed his hand again, and her eyes filled with tears. “You’ve been so good to me. I know that.”
Her words gave Jared a surge of pride. He reached out and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“I love you,” he said. “I do.”
“I love you too,” Natalie said.
He knew it was crazy to say it and think it so quickly, but he didn’t know what the future held. Not even close. He wanted to say it. He wanted Natalie to hear it.
And so they sat like that for a long moment, holding hands and locking eyes, as though no one and nothing else in the world existed. Jared wished that moment could stretch out for eternity.
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
But his mom pierced the bubble.
“How did you manage to get here?” she asked. “Somebody spotted your dad in Louisville, and everybody’s been looking for him. And you. But to be honest, a lot of people thought you might be dead. It’s kind of amazing you’re not.”
“Do you think I can have more tea?” she asked.
“Sure.” His mom took her mug and filled it at the stove. She dropped a new tea bag in and brought it back. “There you go.”
“I haven’t been very warm lately.” She sipped the hot drink, her cheeks flushed. When she spoke her voice was as flat as the tabletop. “My dad killed that man in our house. Mr. Allen. I don’t know what they were fighting about. It was something to do with the work my dad was doing for him.”
His mom perked up. “Yeah, what was he doing for Mr. Allen?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was your dad following people?”
Natalie looked confused. “Following people? Like who?”
“Anyone,” his mom said. She tried to sound casual, but Jared could tell she knew more than what they’d heard in the park from Ursula. “Anyone like maybe my friend Celia.”
“Where did that come from, Mom?”
“Let her answer.”
“It’s okay, Jared.” Natalie shook her head. “I swear I never heard anything about your friend, Mrs. Barton. I got the feeling they were doing something that might have been illegal. I’m pretty sure my dad knew Mr. Allen from some time before. My dad lived here once and came back because he knew Mr. Allen. My dad wasn’t always with us when I was growing up. There were long stretches when I didn’t see him, so he could have lived anywhere.”
His mom leaned forward. She started to ask another question but stopped. Natalie knew what she wanted to ask. “I was there when it happened,” she said. “I was locked in my room. He did that sometimes, just to control me. He didn’t trust me because technically he had kidnapped me. He didn’t have custody of me. He wasn’t supposed to have me, but I went along with him. He’s my dad. I didn’t feel like I could say no or run away. That’s why we lived under the other names. That’s why he never let me out. I was locked in my room that night, and I heard them arguing. And then I heard them struggle like there was a fight going on. Then it all went quiet.” She swallowed. “They didn’t mention Celia. Not that I could hear. But I think I heard a couple of names mentioned. I’m almost positive.”
“Who?” his mom asked.
“Ursula and Bobby.”
Jared watched his mom’s face. She looked as if she’d taken a blow, something sharp and unexpectedly painful. “But you’re not sure?” she asked.
“I’m pretty sure. About an hour later, my dad came into my room. He told me to pack, and he told me I couldn’t go in the living room. I didn’t think there was a body there, but it didn’t surprise me when I heard it on the news.”
“Where did you hear about it?” Jared asked.
“He kept the radio on in the car sometimes,” she said. “We knew people were looking for me. For us. Dad had some cash. He used that for shitty little motel rooms and fast food restaurants. We hung out in rest areas and mall parking lots a lot. It was scary. Terrifying at times, running around like criminals, looking over our shoulders no matter what we did. But it was boring too. Just amazingly boring. I didn’t have my books or anyth
ing. It was just driving around and driving around, like we were in a maze with no exit.”
She sipped more of the tea, holding the mug with two hands. “Dad drove west for a while, like he was going back to Nebraska. And then he turned around and came back toward Kentucky. I didn’t know what his plan was. I don’t think he had one. I don’t know that he was thinking clearly. He was floundering, I think.”
“Why didn’t you run away earlier?” Jared asked. He’d watched enough crime shows to know what Stockholm syndrome was and that kidnappers could exert such fear and control over someone that they wouldn’t even attempt to get away. But Natalie seemed so clearheaded and logical, he didn’t think she’d been completely controlled or subjugated by her dad.
“He promised me something, something I couldn’t say no to,” she said. Her eyes filled with tears again, and she let go of the mug and wiped them off her face. His mom stood up and found a box of tissues. She brought them to the table, and Natalie thanked her while she cleaned her face. “He told me my mom was still alive.”
“And you believed him?” his mom asked.
“Mom.”
“I’m sorry,” his mom said. “Go on, honey.”
“It’s okay,” Natalie said. “He told me he’d take me to her, that I could see her again. He kind of hinted she lived here. And then he hinted she lived somewhere else, somewhere back East. Maybe that’s why he came back this way, to make me think I was going to see Mom.”
“You must have asked a lot of questions,” Jenna said. “You must have been curious about what was going on.”
“I was,” Natalie said. “You have to understand something about my dad. He can be very charming. Persuasive, you know? He knows how to talk. And he knows how to intimidate people. I didn’t want to ask too much. He told me my mom was having problems. He hinted she was involved with drugs.”
“Was she?” Jenna asked.
“I don’t know. I doubt it. But she was depressed a lot. She tried to kill herself once after Dad left. I was really young, but I remember when she was in the hospital. I stayed with my grandma, who was alive back then.” She swallowed. “What I’m saying is my mom wasn’t really stable either. I know she loved me, but when Dad told me she’d left, it wasn’t far-fetched. My mom hadn’t been home for a couple of days. That happened sometimes. I just took care of myself.”