“Sure.” Walking down the hall, she wondered what was going on with Maggie’s husband. She acted a tad scared of him. Turning the light on in the bathroom, a bright pink reflection caught her attention in the mirror.
Mommy, come play with us.
Adaline whipped around, but there was nothing there. “Girls, I’m here,” she whispered to herself in the mirror. The pink tone called to her. Something was in the room across the hall that kept reflecting onto the mirror. Quietly, she looked back to where Maggie stood prior. No one was there. Adaline tiptoed on the carpet toward the other room at the end of the hallway. Pepto Bismol pink erupted on the bedroom walls, and butterflies embellished the space. Two tiny beds sat opposite each other, and a princess table with teacups stood in the corner. She gripped her fingers together and gasped.
The room moved like she was thrown overboard into cascading waters. It hurt, and she couldn’t breathe.
“The food’s about ready.”
Adaline stared wide-eyed in the direction of Maggie’s voice, her heart racing.
She’s coming.
Leaving the bedroom, she moved quickly back to the bathroom and closed the door. She sat on the toilet, feeling queasy, and held her stomach. Why does she have beds for little girls if she has no kids?
She flushed the toilet and turned on the faucet, pretending to wash her hands. A man and woman were speaking in the hall with raised voices. Adaline peeked through a crack in the door. Maggie handed the man a plate with multiple sandwiches stacked on top of each other. He put his hand out to grab it. She couldn’t see his face. Maggie tilted the plate toward him before he took it, and a mark of some sort was made in each one.
No, it can’t be.
They were bite marks, like how she would kiss the girls’ peanut butter and jelly sandwiches before they had a taste. Their little game of Kiss-a-Roo.
It’s nothing. Breathe. Let it go.
Stress was taking over, making her paranoid. Adaline smiled a few times in the mirror to see which version seemed closest to a genuine one. She pulled up her lips to create her own. Turning off the faucet, she opened the door and switched off the light. Walking toward the kitchen, Maggie frantically wiped the empty counter with a dishcloth.
“Can I help?” Adaline asked, giving her a rehearsed smile.
“I’m about done. Why don’t you sit back down? I’ll be right there.” Her voice wavered when she talked.
The smell of peanut butter got stronger the more Maggie wiped the counter. “Peanut butter and jelly?” Adaline asked, raising her eyebrows.
Maggie glanced up, and her cheeks reddened. “I know. Not really the meal of champions, but we like them.”
“You said you don’t have children?”
“Not yet. One day, maybe.”
Adaline noticed Maggie’s hands shook. “My hubby gets hungry when he works.”
She kissed the sandwich. That’s my thing.
Her heart thrashed and her legs turned to putty. “You don’t have kids?” Adaline asked again, her voice rising to a new pitch.
Maggie turned around, placing her hand on her hip. “No. You just asked that. Remember I told you that twice already, silly. You don’t look good. Are you feeling sick?”
“No…I’m fine.”
Maggie came toward her, and she moved a few steps backward.
“Where are they? You have my girls.”
A tall man stepped out of a room into the hallway, and Maggie covered her mouth.
“What’s all this noise? I told you to keep it down,” the man said.
Adaline pointed at them. “You have my girls. Give them to me now before I call the police.”
The tall man had a sly look on his face. “You brought over the crazy neighbor. You sure know how to pick them. We don’t have your kids, lady. Get out of my house. Now.”
Maggie looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Please leave, Adaline.”
“I’m not leaving until I get my girls.” She sneered at them.
The man walked toward her. Adaline lunged, but he caught her before she got to the next room. He threw her over his bulky shoulder, a tight grip around her legs. Adaline hit him in the face and kicked him once in the gut, but it didn’t even faze him. “Put me down. I’m going to find my girls, and don’t you think for one second that you’re getting away with this. Do you hear me?”
The man opened the front door and placed her on the porch. “Get off my property, now.”
Adaline turned around to flashes of cameras and reporters staring at her. She was put out in the sea with the sharks, and they were going to swallow her whole.
Twenty-Nine
Sam Wendell
6:45 p.m.
Surfing the channels at his hotel, waiting for something good to catch his interest, was pointless. The box of static couldn’t hold his focus while Adaline filled his thoughts. Hell, he missed her, and now she crept right back into the shattered, locked part of his heart she’d created.
Sam stood and paced the floor. She told him she’d call him after work, but he hadn’t received any calls yet. He checked the clock for the fourth time.
She should be home by now.
With the Owl Keeper back in town, Adaline would be his target. He grabbed the phone and dialed her number. It rang twice before he heard a whimper. Sam stopped pacing. “Are you there?”
“I need your help.”
“Where are you?” he asked.
“I’m at my house—256 Dreary Oak Drive. Please come quick.”
“Adaline?”
She didn’t reply.
He glanced at his phone to see it disconnected. His pulse elevated. He tugged his ear and ran out the door.
He better not be there. I’ll kill him.
Sam hit the steering wheel when he got into the car. He grabbed his phone to punch in her street address on the GPS. Once it highlighted his route, he yanked his phone out to call her again. It went straight to voicemail this time. Sam stepped on the gas.
“Next street turn right,” the phone instructed.
The streets in the neighborhood didn’t hold many light poles, and Sam squinted his eyes to make sure he hit the right road. He didn’t have to look for a house number as multiple news vehicles lined the street in front of a house on the right. Pulling behind a car, he noticed Adaline hunched on her porch, crowded by people.
Sam parked his car and jumped out, leaving the door open. He pushed his way through the people and moved to her side, bracing her back.
“You came?”
“I’m here. Hold onto my arm.”
She nodded.
“Back up, people. Enough harassment for one night,” Sam said. He laid her head on his shoulder and tried to shield her face. Getting to the car, he lightly pushed Adaline. “Get in.”
Adaline lay down on the seat, still covering her face. “Get me out of here.” She held herself in a ball like she did as a kid. Adaline hadn’t changed at all. Even after running away, the past still caught up to her.
“What happened?” he asked
“I’m losing my mind. Cache was right. I do need help,” she said, looking up at him. “If I tell you what I’m thinking, you’ll think I’m crazy too.”
“You used to say that to me, and I always believed you, Addi bear.”
“My neighbors have my girls.”
“What do you mean? Did you see them, your girls?”
“I told you you’d think I was crazy,” she said.
Sam clenched the steering wheel. “I don’t. I just need you to talk to me. Don’t shut down.”
“I made the girls peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and I would take a bite, telling them that it was a kiss from me. It was my unique mommy thing just for them.” Adaline paused and took a deep breath. “The neighbors don’t have kids, and she made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner and . . . she kissed them.”
“That’s weird, I agree, but is there anything else that happened?”
Adal
ine whispered. “They have a room that’s decorated in butterflies and it has two twin beds. Why would they have those?”
Sam cleared his throat. “We should report this to the police so they can look into it.”
“No. We need to go back so I can prove it to you.”
“We can’t just go into their house.”
She went back to holding herself in a ball and didn’t respond.
“I promise I will help you. You just have to trust me,” he said. “Ad, I need to ask you some questions from the past. I wouldn’t bring them up unless it was important.”
“What kind of questions? Why?” Adaline let go of her legs and stretched from her singular spot.
“They may help in finding your girls.”
She put her hands over his. “You believe me?”
“I do.”
“If it will help, then go for it, but I’m not sure what I can tell you that you don’t already know.”
Sam halted at a red light and squeezed her hand. He tilted his head and looked at her with concern. “Do you remember the night your parents died?”
She nodded.
“What do you remember?”
“I went to Aunt Arlene’s for the night and came home to a burned house. Why are you asking me this?”
Sam held his mouth. “You didn’t go anywhere else that night?”
Adaline raised her eyebrows. “Where else would I have gone?”
He shook his head. “Do you remember wearing an owl necklace that day?”
“You mean the one I have now?” She gripped its chain.
Where did she get that one?
Looking at the necklace she held in her hand, it rested right on her heart. Almost as if to block her from the truth.
“Yes. This is important. How did your parents die?”
She sat in silence and let go of his hand. “You’re treating me like a nut case, doing therapy to fix an unresolved issue. I don’t need that.”
“I’m just trying to remember so I can help you,” he said. The light turned green and he drove again.
“They died in a fire. An accidental fire. Dad left his grill on, and the propane tank was close by.”
Sam tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and closed his eyes.
She doesn’t remember. How does she not remember?
“What did your mother do to you?”
“Sam. Why would you ask that? You know what she did to me.” Her lips quivered as she talked. “She beat me every day, multiple times. Stuck me in the closet and treated me like shit. Are you happy bringing up the past?” She sneered at him. “You came here to get back at me when I’m vulnerable for not marrying you, didn’t you? That’s low, for you.” She looked out the window. “I need you to stop the car and let me out.”
“I would never do that to you. Look at me.”
She continued to stare out the window for a few minutes and eased up enough to look in his direction.
“I promised you I would protect you. I’m trying to keep that promise.”
Her face softened. “Why would you want to do that, even after I left you?”
Sam winced at the image of how painful that day was. He laid out a blanket and had a picnic set up in a meadow Adaline favored, not too far from his home. The weather stayed clear and warm, and her long blonde curls radiated happiness when the sun’s rays hit them. She gave him an inquisitive look and smirked. He never got tired of that expressive combo. Getting on one knee, he opened a black box. She just looked at him, tears in her eyes, and left. That’s what she did when she got too close to showing her feelings. Adaline was incapable of letting anyone in, but he understood her in a way that no one else did, and she needed someone to understand her in that way, now more than ever.
“I know you, and I understand why you left. I just wish you had come back to me. I waited and hoped. But I’m glad you’re happy.”
Adaline released his hand. “Who says I’m happy?”
“What’s going on between you and your husband, anyway? Why isn’t he here with you?”
“Well, aren’t you full of hard questions tonight,” Adaline said. “I don’t need anyone protecting me.”
“Believe me, you’ve made that clear.”
“Ouch. It’s just . . . too hard to be with someone that doesn’t believe you when you need their trust the most.” She closed her eyes. “My girls are alive. I can feel it. If I have to look for them alone and be viewed as a crazy person, that’s what it’s going to be.”
“You’re not alone.” He parked the car and got out. “Give me a minute, okay? I need to make a call.”
Adaline nodded.
Sam stopped the car and got out. He chose number one on his speed dial. “Hey,” said a voice on the other line.
“We have a problem.”
“Meet tomorrow. Same place, same time. Don’t be late.”
“Got it,” Sam said.
He placed his phone in his pocket and got back into the car.
Adaline smiled at him. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. It was just work. I have a few things I need to tie up.”
“Hope it’s not too much work,” Adaline said.
“Nothing that I can’t handle. I’m good with loose ends.” He turned his face to the side and frowned.
Thirty
Officer Abbott
Thursday, November 11th
7:00 a.m.
He tapped his pen on the counter a few times, then placed it on the top of his knuckle, letting it slide down his fist into a dish with stale jellybeans. Someone did not like orange. And they didn’t want the dish bad enough to move it with their desk before Abbott came back to work. The small bowl was made of clay, and multiple colors splashed all over the side. A homemade gift from a child he would’ve never left behind. Adopting it was the only option.
Abbott smiled and held his head.
All the information Sam gave him about the owl necklace, and how secretive he seemed when talking about the Rushner woman, led him to believe Sam was hiding something to protect her. He knew that Sam was right in the middle of the whole case, whether he wanted to be or not.
“Good morning, Abbott,” Lieutenant Stalk said. “Did you ever go home last night?”
Looking up, Abbott smirked.
“I told you to take it easy. You look like hell. You’re still keeping your word, right?”
“Yeah, you bet.”
Lieutenant Stalk tugged at his collar. “I need you focused on your duties. Let this go.”
“I’m not done with this one.”
“I think you are, Abbott. There’s nothing to look into. Plus, I need my best officers ready to work. Okay?”
“You don’t think we should look into Mrs. Rushner being attacked at her store?”
“It’s being handled, but you won’t be involved with it. Understood?”
Abbott cracked his knuckles. “Yes, sir.”
“Good man.”
He watched as the lieutenant walked toward his office and closed the door behind him. Abbott scoured the room and hunched over in his chair, bringing the phone to his ear.
“Abbott. It’s seven a.m., man,” Sam said on the other end.
“Some of us have jobs. How did you get time off, anyway? Never mind. The lieutenant doesn’t want me looking into the Rushner case anymore. I need you to give me some answers so I can have closure.”
“I don’t know much.”
“There’s where you’re wrong. I know you know things about the Rushner woman. Don’t lie to me.”
“This isn’t the time. Can we talk somewhere else?” Sam asked.
“Where?”
“Jelly place, ten minutes?”
“Got it, brother,” Abbott said.
Officer Abbott sat at a table in the bakery, tapping his fingers against the surface. The beat helped him relax while he counted how many times he would tap on each side of his hand. The bell rang as the door swung open, followed by loud footsteps. He turned
around quickly and sprung out of his chair as he saw Sam coming toward him.
“Whoa. Have you been drinking? You look awful.”
“No. It’s been a reoccurring thought, though,” Abbott said, licking his lips and pacing the floor. “I haven’t slept in 24 hours.”
“Stop thinking about it. That’s going to take you down a road you don’t want to travel again. Sit down.”
Abbott didn’t respond and continued to pace and fidget.
Sam stared at him. “How much coffee have you had this morning?” He waved his hand in front of him. “Hello?”
He glanced at Sam. “I’m on my fifth cup of coffee, trying to go over details in my head.”
“Okay, dipshit. You’re going to have a heart attack if you keep that up.” He shook his head. “What details, and why are we here?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows.
“You know things, and I want to know what they are,” Abbott said, sitting down.
Sam gazed at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t fuck with me. You know something about the necklace I told you was at my home with my daughter’s disappearance. I saw the look of fear in your eyes,” Abbott whispered. “The necklace is related to the Rushner case, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know.” Sam peered at the ground.
“How are you involved in all this? You and Mrs. Rushner know something, and I want you to tell me right now.”
Sam put a finger to his lips and stared at Abbott. “Calm down, man. Let’s not get all worked up. I do know things about Adaline, but it’s not related to this.”
“Then why did you look worried?” Abbott watched as Sam shifted his eyes. He appeared uncomfortable sitting with him, having this conversation.
He knows something, but what is it?
“You know Adaline and I go way back. I worry about her well-being. She’s not in a good place right now, and bringing up more past issues about her daughters isn’t going to help her,” Sam said.
“So, you’re worried about me asking her questions?”
“Yes. Clearly, there’s a connection between the two cases, but all the girls are dead, and the man who took them is dead, as well. Why open this up again?”
Little Owl Page 12