by Freya Barker
I feel Freddy behind me, her hand in the middle of my back.
"Newt," she pleads softly.
"Let me first see if I can get a bead on him, okay? Driving around blindly is a fucking waste of time, and you know it," Jim points out. I have to give him props for facing it straight on. He doesn't even try denying. He just waits for my nod and then pulls out his phone to make a call.
"Maggie? Put out a BOLO on a modified silver 2008 F-150, license plate is written on the inside cover of the blue folder on my desk." He listens for a moment. "I'll tell her, but Maggie, get on that ASAP. Call me right away if anything comes back."
He immediately dials again and I'm starting to get impatient, the only thing anchoring my spinning thoughts is Freddy's firm hand in my back.
"Not answering," he mumbles, before turning back to me. "Does Billy know your daughter? Have they had any interaction that you know of?"
"Not that I know of. Other than that first time he dropped Jordan off, I haven't see him around. She never mentioned him either. Did she say anything to you?" I turn and ask Freddy, who has stepped up beside me, her arm sliding around my back.
"No."
"I'm calling Ella," Jim says, dialling again as he gets up and starts pacing.
We only hear his side of the conversation, which is curt and to the point, before he hangs up without saying goodbye.
"She claims she doesn't know where he is. Hasn't seen him since I had to take him with me in handcuffs last Saturday night."
"I thought he was being charged with assault? What the heck is he doing out there anyway?"
"Held him for thirty-two hours. He was in front of a judge Monday morning and was sent off in the care of a snot-nosed, court-appointed lawyer, with instructions to steer clear of his mother's place, and a date to appear. I got there too late, was held up at an overnight break-in, or I might've suggested some more stringent restrictions. Not that I think it would've gone anywhere; this particular judge and I don't see eye to eye on most things."
"Wasn't he tagged with a group of kids on school property Monday night?" Freddy, who has been mostly silent, suddenly pipes up. "Sniffing glue?"
Jim nods. "The officer who handled the call wrote out citations, but let them go. I didn't find out Billy was part of that group until I saw a copy of the report. By the way," he addresses Freddy. "Maggie says to call her if you need anything."
We all jump when his phone rings, and I listen closely when he answers, but can't make much of his monosyllabic responses.
"Let's go," he says, the moment he hangs up. "One of the patrol cars spotted a pickup by that description parked behind the Walmart Supercentre earlier this morning."
Freddy
I watch the OPP cruiser pull out of the driveway. I managed to call after Newt to be careful as he was already rushing out of the house.
Boulder whines by my side, restless with the heightened emotions swirling around and all the commotion, and I take both him and Bella out back for a pee. I see a boat trolling along the shoreline, just down toward the resort, and wonder if that could be the rescue boat Jim mentioned calling in. When I notice a figure tossing what looks like a grappling hook, pulling it in again slowly, my stomach revolts, and I barely manage to bend over some tall brush before I toss my breakfast. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I take one last look at the boat before quickly taking the dogs back inside the house.
I don't like doing nothing. Not on my best of days, and let me tell you, if these past weeks have been less than stellar, it's been hell since last night. Constant fear, lack of sleep, the feeling of impotence, it's eating away at me.
With a need to do something, I call the office.
"Family Health Clinic."
"How are things?" I ask when Jess answers.
"I should ask you that. Any word?"
"Nothing."
I spend the next few minutes updating her with what little I know, checking up on Bijou, and asking about scheduling stuff when something she says has me thinking.
"You said you rescheduled Nicholas? When was that, this morning?"
"Spoke to his mother not twenty minutes ago."
"Can you give me the number?" I turn my purse upside down on the table to locate a pen and a scrap of paper.
-
Ten minutes later I'm on the road, Boulder in the back seat.
When I briefly spoke with Mrs. George and told her I wanted to ask Nicholas something, she mentioned he was working at the Shell station just the other side of Nobel from here. I rushed over to Katie to ask if she could stay at Newt's place, just in case, and took off on what is basically just a hunch.
I considered letting Newt know, but I didn't want him to interrupt what he was doing to go on a wild goose chase with me. I can always call when I have something concrete to report. I just can't sit at home twiddling my fingers anymore.
The moment Nicholas spots me; he gets nervous. His eyes dart around anxiously, doing everything but looking at me.
"Hello, Nicholas."
"Hey," he mutters, almost unintelligibly.
"I need to ask you something. I know you sometimes hang with Billy Baldwin and I need to get hold of him. Any idea where I could find him?"
"I dunno."
"Well, when's the last time you saw him?" I persist.
"The weekend. Probably Saturday."
"So you weren't with him last night? Maybe driving around?"
"Nah, I'm kinda grounded. Dad even took the door off my bedroom." At any other time, I might have chuckled at his incredulous tone. Silently I applaud his parents for finally taking a hard line. But it doesn't get me much further.
"I'm pretty sure you've heard that a girl is missing, right?" My only answer is a shrug, which I will assume is meant affirmatively, since he's looking at me keenly now. "The girl's name is Millie Tobias and she's friends with Billy's younger brother. Last night, Billy's truck was seen speeding away from near Millie's house." I definitely have his interest now, his head tilts a little as he seems to be taking the information in, and I give him a minute to draw his own conclusions. "Do you have any idea where he might have taken her? Any idea where he might be staying at?"
"Are you sure his truck was there? What—you think he took her?"
"Yes, and...it's possible," I suggest, and the hair on my arms stand on end when he seems to consider that only for a second, before nodding. He doesn't appear to be surprised with my suggestion.
"He told me he sleeps in his truck, in back of Walmart. Been there ever since his parents kicked him out."
I don't bother to correct his misconception, it's not the time for it, and I'm not sure it's my place anyway. I already know the truck was seen there earlier, so that is not exactly helpful information either.
"Anywhere else? A place you guys go to hang out? Other than under the bleachers at the high school, that is." It's my not so subtle way of reminding him I know what they do when they get together. I'm not averse to using guilt or embarrassment at this moment.
"There's one place..." he starts, letting it hang open-ended, and I almost shake him, but when he finally finishes his sentence, I take off on a run.
Having lived here my whole life, I know exactly what place he's talking about. Heck, I remember sneaking out there myself when I was young.
I get behind the wheel, hit dial on my phone, and head due north.
"Yeah?" Newt answers, and I hear the hopeful anxiety in his voice. He knows I'd only be calling for something important.
"I might know where Millie is, I'm on my way there now."
"Wait! Freddy, don't go anywhere on your own, you don't know if—"
"I'm almost there," I cut him off. "I'm not going to sit and wait when Millie is out there. I'm just heading north on Nobel Road. Where are you?"
"We're south of town. Freddy, tell me where she is."
"Jim knows the place, just tell him the Avro Arrow ruins."
TWENTY-SIX
Freddy
No way I'm going to hang around, waiting. Not when I know Millie could be out there somewhere and so might Billy, hopped up on glue fumes and God knows what else.
I'm sure Jim will dispatch a few of the teams to come search the old Avro Arrow property, but in the meantime, I have Boulder with me and I know my way around this place.
I pull off to the side of the road, where I know a trail runs into the mostly demolished and overgrown jet engine testing site, which shut down in 1959. It was probably somewhere between 1986 and 1989, the year I graduated, that I would come here on occasion. At that time, there were still some bunkers and parts of tunnels standing, but a lot of those have collapsed or been destroyed in the past almost thirty years. I've been here just once, maybe twice since.
"Come on, boy."
I let Boulder out of the car, grab the windbreaker I keep in the back, tuck my phone and keys in my pocket, and start walking. Although the trail is partially grown in from what I remember, it's evident it's still being used. A few empty cans carelessly discarded and even a broken folding chair tossed in the bushes.
It doesn't take me long to stumble on the first remnants of a structure, a partial wall and a pile of rubble that likely was one of the bunkers.
"Go look for her, boy. Go find Millie."
I urge Boulder, who's been stuck by my side, to go ahead. Aside from the sound of the rain steadily coming down, the only other thing I hear is the dog moving through the brush. Already I'm drenched to the bone.
I reach an open area where, as I remember, quite a few of the ruins are, but only one partial bunker remains when I look around. It doesn't look like much, just a concrete rectangular structure, but I remember there's a metal door on the other side. Moving around the bunker, I find the rusted door hanging off its hinges. There's no sign of Boulder, but I go inside anyway.
The partial roof left provides a little shelter from the rain in the cavernous room. Clearly this has been used as a hangout of some sort. Someone made the effort to drag a mattress out here, a few ratty old blankets covering it. An old picnic table and the ground around it are littered with trash, and there is even a makeshift firepit still holding partially burned logs.
A dark stain on one of the chunks of concrete, making up the crude pit, catches my eye. Crouching down, I run my finger over the damp surface and it comes away a rusty red. I tamp down on the feeling of panic closing off my throat and remind myself it could be anything. I search the space, poking through the detritus, but there's nothing.
There's just no sign of Millie.
Walking back outside, I kick a piece of crumbled concrete, feeling my hopes drain.
All of a sudden, Boulder comes crashing out of the underbrush at the other side of the clearing, and runs straight for me, something dangling from his mouth. He comes to a full stop and drops the item at my feet. I reach down to pick it up.
A bright red flip-flop with daisies on the sole. Just like the ones I've seen discarded by Newt's front door.
My earlier slump forgotten, I take off in the direction where I saw Boulder come out of the trees.
"Millie! Millie!"
Boulder shoots past me, and runs back into the woods. I try to focus on the place he disappeared and follow his lead.
"Millie!"
I'm afraid my voice is drowned out by the rain, but I keep calling her name. I'm just not sure I could hear her if she responded. I do hear Boulder, though, two sharp barks, and then another one from somewhere to my left.
I take off running, oblivious to the brush and brambles I'm trudging through as I follow the sound. Although I can't see Boulder, I do see what looks to be a partially collapsed concrete pipe. One of those things they use for culverts, maybe four feet in diameter.
Making my way closer, I call Millie's name again, and that's when I hear it—a faint, "I'm here."
When I find the opening and peek into the dark shadows, I see the tip of Boulder's tail wagging.
"Millie?"
"I'm here." Her little voice comes from the shadows and I start crawling in.
Leaving the light behind, it becomes easier to see in the dark, and I can make out a pair of bare legs, bent at the knee. My large dog is partially blocking her with his body.
"Oh, honey," I whisper when I catch a glimpse of her.
Eyes wide, her face is covered in grime and what looks to be blood, and her teeth are chattering.
"Is he out there?"
"Your dad's on his way, sweetie," I answer, thinking she's referring to Newt, but she gives her head a little shake.
"Billy. Is he out there?"
"No, it's just you and me, baby. Come on, let me get you out of here."
It takes some manoeuvring to get Boulder to leave his sentry post beside her, but eventually he worms his way past me and out of the pipe. It gives me my first full glimpse of Millie, and I struggle to keep a straight face. First priority is to get her out of here.
"Can you come toward me?"
She nods, inching her way closer on her butt, using her heels to pull her. The left side of her face is covered in caked blood, but with all the grime on her, I can't really tell where it's from. Her legs are scraped up and the sole of the foot missing a flip-flop is cut and bleeding. I hope to God I'm strong enough to carry her, because there's no way she'll be walking out of here.
As she slowly makes her way toward me, I back out of the pipe where Boulder is impatiently waiting.
"Hold on, sweetie."
I take off my windbreaker, which is already soaked, but at least it will cover Millie's torn shirt. The moment her legs clear the edge of the pipe, I reach in and drape it over her shoulders, encouraging her to slip her arms in so I can zip it up.
The smart thing would probably be waiting for Newt and Jim to get here, but Millie's lips are turning blue and I'm scared she'll go into shock.
"Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to crouch down and you're going to climb on my back. Wrap your arms tight around me and don't let go. I'll get you out of here."
Getting up with her on my back is not easy, but I finally manage, pulling myself up on a tree trunk, but once I'm moving it's not so bad. My arms are hooked behind her knees and I try to lean forward as much as I can, so it's easier for her to hold on. I just hope my back will.
"Talk to me, honey," I encourage her when we reach the edge of the clearing, not wanting her to pass out. Boulder takes off running ahead. "Can you tell me the names of my animals?"
"Boulder...Bijou...Ch-Chester..." Her voice wavers as she goes down the list. "George...Ti-Timber...M...Moe..." she trails off, and I don't have the breath in me to urge her on. It's all I can do to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
"Millie! Jesus, baby..."
I manage to lift my head a little to see Newt running toward me, my dog leading the way and Jim is not far behind. Relieved, I let my legs fold under our combined weight, only to be caught in a pair of strong arms, easing us to the ground.
"I've got you."
Newt
A fucking wild goose chase, that's what we'd been on when Freddy called.
There was no sign of the silver pickup behind Walmart, but the patrol officer we met there swore it had been there earlier. One of the store's warehouse managers was able to inform us that he had seen the truck too, and ended up calling security when he noticed someone inside. When security showed up a little later, the truck was gone.
As we were about to leave, Jim got a call from his office. A report had come in that a truck matching the BOLO description had been seen turning into Oastler Provincial Park, just ten minutes south of where we were.
We were checking every parking lot and campsite, some of those on foot, so when my phone rang, we were clear on the other side of the park. It took us ten minutes just to get back on the road.
By the time Jim pulls behind Freddy's Matrix, at least thirty minutes have passed, and I'm about coming out of my skin. The moment the vehicle rolls to a stop, I'm out and running up the only trai
l I can see, hoping I'm going the right way. I throw a glance over my shoulder to see Jim is following, waving me on.
The rain is relentless. Weeks we've had beautiful, even hot weather, and this feels like a tropical monsoon. The ground is saturated under my feet, squishing with every step. I almost slip and land on my face when Boulder suddenly comes charging out of the underbrush, cutting right in front of me.
"Where are they, boy?"
He starts running ahead and I follow him into a large clearing, the steady thud of Jim's footsteps behind me.
At first I'm not sure what I'm looking at, until I realize it's Freddy carrying the smaller figure of my daughter on her back. I almost don't recognize her, the short blonde hair dark with rain and matted with dirt.
I may have called out her name, but next thing I know I'm sitting with my ass in the mud, my arms around both of them. Freddy wedged in the middle.
"She needs to get warm, Newt. We need to get her out of the rain. She has what looks like an injury to her head, she needs medical attention."
I barely register half of what Freddy is mumbling, but I hear the urgency in her voice. She shifts so I can pluck Millie off her back, and I finally see my baby's face clearly. Her eyes are closed, her lips are turning blue, and I see a jagged cut running down the side of her head, from the top of her ear toward her crown.
Jim, who caught up with us, pulls Freddy to her feet, allowing me to get up, Millie cradled in my arms. I turn to him; my daughter's body limp in my arms.
"Better find him before I do," I bite off through clenched teeth, blood roaring in my ears. His face is grave as he nods his understanding.
I start walking back to the car, holding her tight to my body, as I hear Jim behind me, barking out instructions on his phone. A quiet Freddy jogs to keep up with my strides.
-
"I'll be back in a bit," Jim says, when he drops us off at the emergency department of the hospital.
Freddy runs ahead, with Boulder on a leash and with his service dog vest on, opening doors.
She quickly grabbed those and her purse from her car, before she got into the OPP cruiser with us. Jim offered to have one of his officers pick up the Matrix later, so she handed him the keys.