Up the Creek

by Alissa C. Grosso

  “Did you suspect the wife at all?”

  “She was out of town,” Steve said. “Poor bastard was home babysitting the boy.”

  “Parenting,” Sage corrected automatically.

  “What?” Steve asked.

  “He wasn’t babysitting because it was his own kid. He was just performing his parental duties.”

  “Okay,” Steve said.

  He started to walk away.

  “But what about the car? Do you know if you ever followed up on it? It seems like it could be significant.”

  Steve wasn’t facing him when he said, “I think we worked out that it belonged to a friend or a relative of one of the other neighbors. Just someone who came in for a visit or something.”

  Sage stared at the retreating back of his colleague. A minute ago, he couldn’t remember anything about the car, and now suddenly he knew it belonged to a friend or relative of one of the neighbors?

  “You sure about that?” Sage asked. “There’s nothing in the file.”

  “There were a lot of notes, not everything got saved. That was back before we digitized everything, so some stuff might have been lost in one of the floods.”

  This was the first Sage heard about records being lost in a flood. Was it possible he didn’t have the complete file?

  “Hey, Sage, can I talk to you a second?” Rayanne said, poking her head out of her office.

  He had a feeling this was going to be a dressing down for how he had handled the Kevin Arlo thing.

  It wasn’t about the Kevin Arlo thing. Rayanne returned to her desk chair, while Sage sat down in one of the chairs facing her desk.

  “How’s everything been going?” Rayanne asked.

  “No complaints,” Sage said.

  “You making any headway with that old murder case?”

  “Not as much as I would like,” Sage said, which felt like a gigantic understatement.

  Rayanne nodded absently. “I’ve got a favor to ask of you,” she said, and Sage wondered if the son of another officer had run afoul of the law. But then she said, “Mick Hillman is visiting the Rixby plant tomorrow.”

  The politician’s face appeared in Sage’s head as one of his recent campaign videos played out. Family values and hardworking Pennsylvanians and other vague, meaningless catchphrases swirled around in his head.

  “Is he under investigation?” Sage asked hopefully.

  Rayanne shook her head. Sage didn’t have anything against Hillman personally. It was more of an aversion to all politicians.

  “After touring the plant,” Rayanne said, “he’s scheduled to make a speech on the lawn outside. Hillman has his own security detail, but we’ve been tasked with providing crowd control.”

  “Are we really expecting the masses to turn out?” Sage asked.

  “Apparently there’s some sort of bonus being offered to Rixby employees and their families who attend the speech,” Rayanne said.

  “Bribery,” Sage mused.

  “I know it’s not in your job description,” Rayanne said, “but would you be willing to put on a uniform and pitch in?”

  Sage could have come up with a thousand better ways to spend his time, but Rayanne wouldn’t have asked him if she didn’t really need him. Besides, it might be a good opportunity for him to show some solidarity with the rest of the Culver Creek police force.

  “You can count on me.”

  20

  Lance had just stepped out of the men’s room when Corey shouted, “Think fast, Walker!” Lance looked up to see a black and neon-pink nerf football sailing toward his head. Reflexes took over, and he reached up and plucked the ball from the air.

  “What’s going on out here?” Doug called from his office. He stepped out into the hallway and saw Lance with the football in his hands. For a moment Lance expected a dressing down from Doug, but instead a big grin appeared on Doug’s face and he shouted, “I’m open!” as he took a running start down the hallway.

  Lance sent the ball sailing over Corey’s head and into Doug’s waiting arms.

  “Looks like somebody’s a monkey in the middle,” Doug said with a laugh, and as Corey started to charge in his direction, he hurled the ball back down the hallway to Lance.

  The impromptu game continued, and at least for a few seconds, Lance felt like he was still a kid back at Ryerson and not a grown man playing catch at work. Frustrated with his monkey in the middle status, Corey charged at him, and Lance wasn’t quick enough. The two of them toppled to the ground as the ball rolled harmlessly away. Someone cleared their throat, and when Lance looked up, he saw their receptionist Sheryl standing just behind Doug.

  “Lance, there’s someone here to see you,” Dana said.

  “Oh,” Lance said. He was confused. He didn’t have any appointments scheduled. Corey stretched to retrieve the dropped ball, and Lance couldn’t resist kicking it just out of reach before he went down the hall to see who was here to meet with him. It wasn’t until he stepped out into the reception area that he realized the quick game of catch and Corey’s tackle had left him looking a bit disheveled. His shirt was untucked, his hair was askew, and he felt a bit flushed. If it was an important client, he would have to come up with a quick excuse on the fly, but his stomach dropped when he saw that the only people in the waiting area were two uniformed police officers.

  Could this be about Caitlin’s accident last week? Maybe they had something they needed to go over with him—a form he needed to sign, perhaps. He tried to reassure himself that there was probably a perfectly harmless reason they were here, but his voice still cracked when he asked, “Can I help you?”

  “Mr. Walker?” the heavier police officer asked. Lance nodded. “Is there somewhere we can speak privately?” the cop continued.

  Lance showed the two of them into his office. The doorknob rattled in his shaking hand as he shut the door.

  “Is this about Caitlin’s accident?” Lance asked as he sat at his desk. On the other side, the two officers exchanged surprised looks.

  “Accident?” the heavier one repeated. Officer Young, his name tag read, even though he was at least a decade older than his partner.

  “Last week,” Lance said, “the fender bender.” But his voice trailed off at the end, because clearly that wasn’t what they were doing here, which meant this was something more serious.

  “Mr. Walker, when was the last time you saw your son?” Young asked.

  “This morning,” Lance said. “Why?”

  “And he wasn’t feeling well? That’s why he didn’t go to preschool?”

  Adam? Lance felt dizzy. He placed a hand on the desk to steady himself.

  “What’s happened?” Lance asked. “Is he in the hospital?”

  “Why would your son be in the hospital?” said the other cop—Marley, his name badge read.

  “I don’t know. You’re the ones who came in here talking about him being sick.” Lance’s panic and dizziness were quickly giving way to impatience and anger. What right did these cops have to come in here asking questions without telling him what the hell was going on?

  “Mr. Walker,” Young said in a slow deliberate way, “was your son sick when you saw him this morning?”

  “I don’t know,” Lance said. “I had to leave early. I had a meeting this morning. He was just waking up. Can you please tell me what the hell is going on?”

  “Mr. Walker, your son disappeared this afternoon from a Quick Chek parking lot,” Young said. Lance jumped up from his desk. “Please,” Young continued, “we’re just trying to piece together a timeline of events.”

  “Where’s Caitlin?” Lance demanded. He yanked open his desk drawer and removed his phone and his keys.

  “She’s been cooperating with the police,” Young said. “There’s just some things we’re trying to get straight.”

  “For God’s sake,” Lance said. “My son’s missing, and you’re sitting here asking me stupid questions? You should be out there looking for him!” Lance shoved his keys
into his pocket and started dialing Caitlin’s number as he stepped out of his office.

  Doug and Corey were still in the hallway, Corey tossing the football up in the air and catching it again.

  “I’ve got to go,” Lance told them.

  “Sore loser,” Corey said with a laugh, but he shut up when he saw the two police officers follow Lance out of his office.

  “Is everything okay?” Doug asked.

  “It’s Adam,” Lance said. “I’ll text you when I know more.”

  Of course Lily Esposito’s murder had shocked Lance, as it did everyone in their small town. It didn’t frighten him the way it did his mother, and he didn’t feel sadness, exactly, but it left him with a funny hollow sort of feeling inside.

  The day after it happened, or maybe it was two days after—time seemed to move at a different rate of speed that summer—police visited each house in the neighborhood. Lance remembered kneeling on the couch and watching them from the living room window as his mother paced and fidgeted in their small house. When the knock at their door came, she nearly jumped out of her skin. He was still kneeling on the couch but spun around to look at the door.

  “I’ll get it,” she said in an unnaturally high voice. “You stay there.”

  She opened the door just enough to wedge her body into the opening. Sometimes his mother didn’t like for someone to come inside if she feared the house wasn’t clean enough, but the place was immaculate. Since the news of the murder, she had been trying to ease her nerves by cleaning the place obsessively.

  Lance strained to hear what was being said at the door, but he caught only stray words, then he heard one of the police officers say his name. There was more mumbling, and then he heard the officer say in a louder voice, “May we speak with him, ma’am?”

  He watched as his mother reluctantly moved out of the doorway and led the two officers into the living room. From where Lance sat on the couch, the two cops seemed to tower over him like giants. His mother stood beside them, her hands endlessly fiddling with a ribbon on her blouse.

  “Hi, Lance,” one cop said to him. “I’m Officer Goyle and this is Officer Arlo. Is it okay if we ask you a few questions?”

  Lance nodded. His mouth suddenly felt too dry to form any words.

  “He’s not going to know anything,” his mother said. Her voice still sounded unnaturally high. “He didn’t know that girl.”

  “Is that true?” Officer Barnes asked him. “You didn’t know Lily?”

  Lance shrugged and looked to his mother for guidance. “No,” he said at last, but it seemed to come out like a question.

  “You never saw her before?” Barnes squatted down so he was at eye level with Lance.

  “Sometimes,” Lance mumbled.

  “When was the last time you saw her?” Barnes asked.

  Lance shrugged again. He honestly didn’t know.

  “Last week?” he said, but he really wasn’t sure.

  “Lance, can you remember seeing anyone around? Anyone who didn’t seem to belong here? Anyone who might have been watching Lily?”

  Lance shook his head.

  “Are you sure?” Officer Barnes asked. “Think about it.”

  Lance tried to remember if he had seen anyone around. Nothing came to mind, but then his mother made a high-pitched squeaking noise, and the three of them turned to look her way.

  “There was something I saw the other day.” She bounced on her heels in excitement. “I forgot all about it until just now, but there was a car one afternoon driving very slowly down the road. I’d never seen it before, and it was older, kind of beat up.”

  Officer Arlo whipped out a notepad and began to scribble on it. He asked for more details about the car, and Raquel provided a vague description. It was dark blue or maybe green, and it had some rust on it. It looked like a man wearing a baseball cap driving the car.

  It was the first time Lance heard his mother say anything about this car. Had that really been the murderer? Could she have seen him? He felt a little thrill of excitement at the idea, and then felt guilty about it. What if her description helped them find the murderer? Would she have to go to court to testify at the trial? His mind went off on a tangent as he considered this. Maybe he would get to go to court, too, but judging by the way both police officers had lost interest in him when she mentioned the car, he highly doubted it.

  When Lance stepped into the police station, he saw Caitlin right away.

  “What’s going on?” he asked her.

  She ran to him and threw herself into his arms. A jumbled stream of words flowed out of her mouth, and he struggled to understand what she was saying.

  “Slow down,” he said. “Take a deep breath.”

  She stepped back and took a gasping breath.

  “He’s missing,” she said. Then the stream of words started back up, but this time Lance worked harder to make sense of it. What he gathered was that Caitlin had stopped off at Quick Chek but had left Adam alone in the car, and when she came back out, he was gone.

  Lance thought of the exploded stove and Caitlin’s car accident, and he had a sudden spark of inspiration.

  “Are you sure he was with you?” Lance asked. “Could you have forgotten him at home?”

  Caitlin shook her head, and one of the police officers, Marley, stepped in to say, “We went back to the house with Mrs. Walker and looked around, but Adam wasn’t there.”

  “And you’re sure he didn’t go to school?” Lance asked.

  “I kept him home,” Caitlin said, “because he wasn’t feeling well. It’s all my fault.”

  “Mr. Walker,” the other cop, Young, said. “If you could please step in here with us, there are some questions we need to ask you.”

  “Shouldn’t you be out there looking for Adam?” Lance asked.

  “We have officers searching for the boy,” Young assured him. “If you could help us by answering some questions, we might be able to find him sooner.”

  Lance didn’t see what he could tell the cops that would be of any help, but he relented. The sooner he answered their questions, the sooner they might actually get to work and try to find Adam.

  Lance stepped into a small room, and Young and Marley followed. Young waved at a chair at the table, and Lance sat down. Young took the seat opposite him, but Marley remained standing.

  “When did you last see your son?” Young asked.

  “I already told you, this morning before I went to work,” Lance said.

  “But you didn’t go to work first thing, right? You had a meeting?” Young asked.

  “A work meeting,” Lance explained.

  “A meeting at your office?” Young asked.

  “No, this was off campus, at a client’s office,” Lance said. “Or I was supposed to anyway.”

  “Supposed to?” Young asked, he leaned over the table just a bit, as if he was readying himself to listen to some fascinating story.

  Lance sighed.

  “I was nearly all the way there when I got a message that the meeting had been cancelled.”

  “So what you’re saying is that no one can vouch for your movements this morning?” Young said. “About how long of a span of time are we talking about here?”

  “I don’t know,” Lance said. “Maybe an hour and a half or so. I don’t see how any of this is relevant. Caitlin had Adam with her when she went to the convenience store this afternoon. He was taken from the parking lot.”

  Young and Marley exchanged a glance, and Lance tried desperately to see what unspoken things were being said between the two police officers.

  “What?” Lance asked. “What was that?”

  “We have the security camera footage from the Quick Chek parking lot,” Marley said. “Your wife’s vehicle is in view the entire time. At no time did we see anyone other than her open any of the doors of the vehicle.”

  Lance slouched back in the seat. This was all his fault. There had been clear warning signs that Caitlin was not thinking clearly, and
he hadn’t done anything. She had been confused about taking Adam with her to the convenience store, but if he hadn’t gone with her and he wasn’t at home, then where was he? Wait, Caitlin probably wouldn’t have made a whole trip out just to go to Quick Chek. She must have been running other errands too. She could have simply left Adam at the post office or the bank or something.

  “We need to retrace her route,” Lance said, sitting back up. “We need to find out all the places she went.”

  “Actually, Mr. Walker,” Marley said, “there is some security camera footage we would like you to take a look at.”

  Lance shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Marley brought a laptop over to the table. He wasn’t sure what to expect. Did they have footage of whoever had taken Adam? Did they think it was someone he would recognize?

  Marley opened the computer and clicked a few buttons on the keyboard to bring up a video. “Can you tell us what exactly is going on here?”

  The video was from a ceiling-mounted security camera that showed part of the interior of the convenience store. Lance watched as the front door of the store opened and Caitlin stepped inside. She walked toward the beverage case at the furthest edge of the video screen. He saw a couple of other shoppers in the store. Were they who he was supposed to be watching? Was it Caitlin he needed to keep his focus on? Caitlin had picked up a soda from the beverage case, but then she pulled out more. No, the cans looked taller than soda cans. Beer? But they wouldn’t have that at Quick Chek. No, it looked like different cans of energy drinks. What the hell? Did Caitlin even drink that stuff?

  He watched as his wife struggled with an armful of the cans, walking toward what he assumed was a register, but then she froze in the middle of the aisle. She dropped all the cans on the ground and bolted. He watched her run back out the front door and disappear from view. Something about the whole thing made him inescapably sad. It was like the stove all over again.

  Marley took back over at the computer keyboard and backed up the video to where Caitlin was walking toward the register with the energy drink cans.