by T. K. Leigh
Chapter Twenty-Three
December 19
9:30 PM
“DOES THIS LOOK ABOUT right?” a young man named Robert asked, flipping his tablet around and showing Olivia the final version of a sketch they had been working on.
He had asked questions about so many intricate details regarding Maleek’s appearance — the shape of his eyebrows, the fullness of his lips, the curve of his chin, the darkness of his eyes. After over an hour of sketching and re-sketching, Olivia now stared back into a pair of two-dimensional eyes that espoused evil and superiority. It was as if he were here with her, laughing at her, mocking her. They finally got it right.
All she could do was nod at the sketch artist, who didn’t look a day over eighteen, even though he hinted he had been with the bureau for close to a decade. He was extremely talented, able to translate Olivia’s lackluster description with ease, guiding her every step of the way.
“Great,” he responded, punching a few buttons on his tablet.
Olivia marveled at how technology had evolved over the years. She had expected him to show up with pencils and an art pad. Instead, he was armed with a large tablet and stylus pen. With the click of a button, his rough sketch was distributed to every law enforcement agency in the state, as well as the rest of the country. It, along with the car description and plate number Alexander had provided, was added to the BOLO, the law enforcement term for “be on the lookout”. Still, Olivia had her doubts whether anything would come of it. Alexander had assured her he was working other angles, unbeknownst to the FBI, but refused to tell her what they were. Part of her began to think he simply said that to assuage her fears. The other part of her was terrified of what he would find if he dug too deep.
The house that, just hours ago, had been a flurry of activity in preparation for the ransom exchange was now quiet. Moretti thought Maleek would make contact with her again, but the call never came.
After several hours, most of the FBI agents decided to relocate to the command center down the street from their house. It was nice to have some privacy again, but with the lack of activity and noise, it felt as if nothing were being done to find Melanie. Olivia prayed she was still okay, that Maleek hadn’t carried out any of his threats. While she hated the FBI’s presence in her house, their absence terrified her. With them here, she was an eyewitness to the frenzied pace at which they moved to find her daughter. Phones constantly rang, people appeared at their door with more files, more computers, more everything. Now, it was eerily silent. No longer surrounded by chaos, she felt more alone than she could bear.
“Mrs. Burnham?” Robert’s voice cut through her thoughts and she glanced up, dazed. She didn’t feel like herself. She felt like an outsider watching the drama unfold as a strange family navigated through a horrible tragedy.
“Yes?” Olivia heard herself say. It didn’t sound like her voice. It was distant, alien, obscure.
“Thanks for your time tonight, ma’am.” He stood from the chair across from her and collected his things. “If you think of anything else that could help with his description, please call.” He handed her a simple white business card, the FBI’s logo dead center. “It’s my understanding Agent Long will be staying here with you to keep you apprised of the investigation?” He raised his eyebrows.
Olivia nodded. After most of the agents and officers had dispersed, Agent Long stayed behind, informing the family she would be camping out at the house until the investigation came to an end. Olivia wondered whether that was the real reason for the agent’s presence. It was just as easy to keep them updated on any developments via phone. Still, it gave Olivia some sense of security, regardless of how fleeting it truly was. She had always felt secure and protected by her husband. His need to keep her safe was one of the things she fell in love with before she even realized it. His loyalty. His protectiveness. His willingness to risk his life for hers. All reasons she fell madly in love with this man when she had avoided love for so long.
But all that had been destroyed in the blink of an eye. She no longer felt as if her home were an impenetrable building where they could live out their happily ever after. A black cloud hung over the house, under her skin, in her soul. The void left from the absence of laughter and little feet running down the halls made her ache with a pain she couldn’t describe.
“I’ll let you get some rest,” Robert said.
Olivia simply stared blankly at him. He paused for a moment, probably waiting for her to say goodbye, but she had no words left. The helplessness she had avoided all day as they were swept up in the whirlwind of the investigation crashed over her.
She stood from the couch, leaving Robert standing there, and walked out of the room.
“Olivia, love,” Alexander called after her, excusing himself from the hushed conversation he had been having with Martin as they toiled over his laptop, probably trying to find Maleek before the FBI did.
She stopped as she approached the ornate staircase, the focal point of the grand entrance to their extravagant house. Yellow police tape roping off the table and broken centerpiece caught her eye.
It took some convincing on Alexander’s part for the FBI to allow them to stay when the house could be considered an active crime scene. Olivia understood the FBI’s need to maintain the integrity of the evidence, but this was their home. She refused to allow anyone to chase her out.
She turned to face her husband, concern and worry etched on his strong face.
“What can I do?”
Alexander always had a way of asking the right question. He knew not to ask what was wrong or if she was okay. Those questions could be answered without words. Instead, he asked the question she needed at that moment.
Approaching him, she ran her hands through his dark hair. “You’re already doing it, Alex.” She placed a soft kiss on his lips, trying to hide her true anguish. He had enough on his plate at the moment. He had the resources and ability to track down their daughter. Olivia, on the other hand, felt completely useless, like she had nothing to offer. Even worse, as she had watched Alexander do everything within his power to find Melanie throughout the day, she kept thinking about Mischa. She’d barely had time to mourn her death before her world was tilted on its axis.
“You look exhausted. Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down?” he suggested. “I’ll come get you if I find anything.”
Olivia nodded, allowing his promise to bathe her with a modicum of comfort. She wanted to ask if he had heard anything more from Dave about Mischa’s case, but stopped herself. What kind of grieving mother would she be if she didn’t devote all her anguish, heartache, and tears to her missing daughter? One wrong move and the media would crucify her.
“I love you, Mr. Burnham.” She placed a lackluster kiss on his lips before heading up the staircase, which was lined with framed photos of their family. They were so happy, so peaceful, so secure. They would never have that again. Even if they found Melanie and she had been spared any physical scars, the psychological ones would never vanish. Olivia was living proof of that. She’d suffered a traumatic event in her early years, having witnessed her own mother’s death at the age of six. To this day, even over thirty years later, it still haunted her. She had done everything in her power to shield Melanie from enduring anything like that in her life. She’d failed her.
Stepping onto the second floor landing, Olivia continued down the corridor, the sound of voices fading. The hallway was practically pitch black, another reminder of Melanie’s disappearance. She breathed life into the four walls of this house. Without her, there was no energy. There was no heartbeat. There was no soul.
Most nights, her laugh could be heard throughout the halls as she played make-believe or chased Runner. Olivia normally looked forward to the nights Melanie planned to sleep over at her cousin’s or a friend’s house so she could have a moment of peace and quiet with her husband, a rarity most of the time. Now she craved to hear her daughter’s infectious giggle.
O
livia slowed to a stop outside a door blocked with yellow police tape. They had been warned, rather strongly, by Agent Moretti not to cross any of the areas they had marked off. There was a chance they may need to comb the areas again for any evidence that had been overlooked the first time they thoroughly examined each and every nook and cranny of this room. What she was about to do could compromise the entire investigation, but she was no longer concerned with that. She was desperate to feel her daughter’s heart, hear her pulse, revel in her spirit.
Ducking beneath the police tape, she turned the knob and entered Melanie’s room. The space seemed different now. This was no longer home to a fearless girl who had more love for Olivia than she deserved. This would now become a place of nightmares for her daughter. Would she ever be able to sleep in this room again? Would she ever want to sleep alone? Would she ever feel safe?
Olivia struggled to come to terms with what Melanie’s life would be like if she survived this. She hadn’t done anything to deserve this. Alexander wasn’t without his faults, and neither was Olivia, but Melanie was so young, so pure, so innocent. Now, at far too young an age, she would be jaded by the cruelties of the world.
Would she ever see her smile again?
Would she ever hear her carefree laugh?
Would she ever feel her unconditional love as she flung her arms around her?
Bleakness invaded Olivia right down to her marrow as she fell onto Melanie’s unmade bed. Sheets that were once warm from her presence had grown cold, and Olivia could no longer keep it in. She wasn’t just watching a made-for-TV movie about a successful, semi-famous family losing their daughter. She was living the nightmare, wishing with everything she had that this would all be over soon, that it wasn’t real.
“Wake up!” Olivia screamed, slapping her face as relentless tears streamed down her cheeks. She curled into a ball, the torment growing inside her becoming unbearable. It felt like someone was ripping her open with sadistic apathy, the pace languid and sluggish, taking pleasure from each strained breath she struggled to capture. Her skin prickled with the heat of a thousand branding irons. No matter how loud she screamed, it wouldn’t dull the pain.
“Wake up, Olivia!” she bellowed again, louder and more desperate. Nothing worked. No matter what she did, no matter how loud her cries, nothing would wake her from this nightmare.
Sobs wracked through her body as she fought for air. She tried to gain control over her body and tears, but it was useless. She was no longer in command of her own destiny. Even the seemingly innate task of inhaling and exhaling had become arduous and complicated. Melanie was her lifeline, her reason for living. Without her, Olivia’s heart gave out, her lungs refused to work, her body shut down.
Suddenly, a pair of familiar, strong arms cradled her, lifting her off the torturous bed, cocooning her in a shelter only they could provide. They comforted her sobs, giving her exactly what she needed. She cried into her husband’s chest, a hundred tears falling for every regret. No words were spoken. Lowering himself to the floor and leaning against the wall, Alexander simply held her in his lap, wiping her tears, providing her with warmth in this cold, hateful world.
She didn’t know how many minutes ticked by as he remained there, silently assuring her with his presence that they would get through this, that everything would work out. Still, she knew they would never be the same. This had shaken their family to its core. There was no returning to the way things were before.
Olivia cried harder.
She cried for all the time she should have spent with her daughter instead of working tirelessly for one charity or another. She cried for all the times she told her no when she should have said yes. Yes, we can have pancakes for dinner. Yes, we can go feed the ducks at the pond. Yes, we can make Christmas cookies in July.
Exhaustion set in as her cries subsided and she closed her eyes. The last thing she saw before drifting off was Melanie standing alone in a dark room, a blank expression on her pale face.
Chapter Twenty-Four
December 19
11:15 PM
ALEXANDER TRIED TO REMAIN completely still as he held Olivia in his arms. She looked so peaceful as she slept, her chest rising and falling evenly. The anguish that had consumed her when he first found her in Melanie’s room had all but disappeared. Now, she was finally resting, able to keep her worries and fears at bay, if only for a minute.
Moretti would lose his mind if he knew they were both in here, but that was the least of Alexander’s concerns at the moment. Olivia needed this. She had held her head high all day, showing great strength. But everyone had their breaking point, and she had reached hers.
“Do you remember our first night in this house?”
Her voice cut through the silence. Alexander looked down to see her studying his face. He wondered how long she had been awake.
Kissing the top of her forehead, he tightened his hold on her as they sat on the floor, Alexander’s back against the wall. “I do.” A nostalgic smile crossed his face. “There was a mix-up with our furniture delivery. Instead of staying at Ma’s for the night, Melanie convinced us to camp out here, so we put sleeping bags in front of the fireplace.”
She nodded. “We roasted marshmallows and told scary stories.”
“And you told her your idea of ‘roughing it’ was a hotel with no room service.”
“Now every time we stay in a hotel, she asks if we’re ‘roughing it’.” She let out a small laugh as they recalled some of the happy times they’d spent in this house.
All married couples hoped the good times outnumbered the bad, and Olivia and Alexander had been blessed for that to be the case. Just like everybody else, they’d hit a few bumps in the road along the way, but those had been few and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. They’d been fortunate enough to be happy, healthy, and safe…until now.
From the very beginning, Alexander knew both his current position and his status as a discharged SEAL could potentially put all their lives in danger. He had considered walking away from everything the day Melanie was born, but he liked knowing he had a purpose, that people needed him. It didn’t occur to him his family needed him more than his employees ever would.
Waves of regret washed over him. He didn’t know where he went wrong, how he didn’t realize he had been making the same mistakes as his father…the very ones that drove him away.
His phone buzzed, bringing him back from his thoughts, and he pulled it out of his pocket. Reading the text Martin had sent, he tried to hide his disappointment from Olivia.
“What is it?” she asked.
“We got a hit on the plates of the car. Came back to a stolen vehicle out of Peabody. It was found ditched near Boston College.”
Nodding, she snuggled against him once more. “You always knew it was probably a dead end,” she assured him with a heavy sigh.
“I know, but it didn’t prevent me from hoping,” he responded quietly.
“Me, either.”
They continued to sit in the stillness of Melanie’s darkened room…Alexander with his back against the wall and legs stretched out in front of him, Olivia curled in a ball on his lap. This was the first time in weeks, maybe months, they had a moment to themselves. He hated that their daughter’s abduction was the reason. They had both been so busy…Alexander with the company, and Olivia with all the charities she was on the board of. When they did have time together, they always spent it with Melanie.
Since the very beginning, Olivia had been insistent on raising Melanie with minimal outside help. With the wealth they had, most would assume they’d have a full-time nanny, but Olivia refused. It takes a village to raise a child, and they’d been fortunate to have a village at their fingertips. Still, life changes after having a baby. Moments alone are rare and valued…like this. Just them. The more he thought about it, though, that wasn’t necessarily the case. Alexander felt Melanie’s spirit surrounding him. Her energy. Her enthusiasm. The eyes that always looked at him as i
f he were her hero.
“Thank you, Mr. Crenshaw, for taking the time to tell us all about working in finance,” Melanie’s teacher said, clapping in a way that encouraged the rest of the class to follow her lead. Doe-eyed with brunette hair cascading to her mid-back, she barely looked like she could have been more than a day out of high school, yet here she was, instilling knowledge into Alexander’s little girl.
He glanced around the classroom as he sat in front of a few dozen desks arranged in a circle. It was a far cry from the classroom he remembered from his school days. Then again, he went to public school. His father’s company didn’t take off until he was a teenager, and even when it did, his parents didn’t let that wealth go to any of their heads. Nothing changed, except they were able to take more vacations, drive nicer cars, and not worry about how to make the money stretch to pay all the bills.
The decision to enroll Melanie in private school didn’t come easily. Alexander wanted her to have the same kind of upbringing he did, but his need to keep her safe outweighed all that. The other students here were the sons and daughters of politicians, CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, and anyone else wealthy enough to spend more on a year of first grade than most paid for their freshman year of college.
“Next, we have Melanie’s dad here to talk about what he does for a living. Class, give Mr. Burnham a warm welcome.” She clapped, the rest of the class following her lead.
Alexander looked at the group of students, Melanie standing out with her wide grin and proud eyes. Standing up, he adjusted his tie and made his way to the center of the room, sitting down in the chair.
“Thanks for being here today, Mr. Burnham,” Miss Killingly said, sitting in the chair next to his. “We’ve been learning about different careers and jobs over the past few weeks. Melanie has told the class you’re a veteran.”