Little Owl

by Lauri Schoenfeld

  It had only been a week, and already the new beginning and possibilities he imagined for himself and Adaline were going down the drain, one by one. He straightened his tie, dusted off his suit, and walked toward his boss’s office.

  The receptionist stood and fixed her glasses. “Mr. Rushner. He’s waiting for you.” She glanced away for a minute and whispered lightly to him. “I’m sorry.”

  Cache paused before entering his office. The room was filled with full-length windows. Glass surrounded him.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Millstadt, sir,” Cache said.

  Jaxon Millstadt held up his hand to stop him from talking further. “I’m just going to cut right to it,” his boss said. “Your wife is making quite an issue for this firm. Are you planning on divorcing her?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “No, I didn’t think so. Listen, we need to let you go.”

  “I need this job. I can work extra hours.”

  “It’s really not that, son. You’re a good worker, but you’re always late, and the media is hounding this building. I can’t have that for our firm. It’s giving me a bad rep, keeping you around.”

  “My wife is just confused,” Cache said.

  “Maybe, boy, but I can’t help you. Word of advice though. If you believe she’s innocent, why aren’t you with her when the media attacks her? She’s always by herself.”

  “There’s more going on here than just my wife. You hired me with a great position, my own office, and lots of opportunities right from the beginning,” Cache said. “I appreciated it all, but that’s not typically how someone starts a position they’ve never held before.”

  Jaxon grinned. “You’ve done your part and what you were hired to do.”

  “What exactly is that?”

  “You know, you could give me a tip. You got game, I like that. How do I get away from my wife like you have? She’s hounding me, and I’m seeing a tight, young thing on the side now. I need her out of the picture.”

  Cache sneered. “I care for my wife.”

  “Yes, you say that, which looks really good for you, but you’re nowhere near her, like I said. See what I mean? That’s pretty brilliant. Game.” He pumped his fist in the air. “I’ve worked the business for a while, and I know when I see a con man.”

  He looked away. “Thanks for the boxes.”

  His boss saluted him as he shut his door.

  Cache laughed and peered at the receptionist who poked her head out from the book she was reading. His laughter grew, and then he stopped and bunched his fists. He imagined throwing something at his boss’s window and watching the glass fall with a domino effect. Maybe one would accidentally fall on him, getting Mr. Boss man out of the picture . . . for his wife, of course. Cache rolled up his sleeves and stomped to his office.

  Some future he had.

  It didn’t settle well with him, what his boss said. He wasn’t the kind to treat his wife well. She’d bring him lunch, and he would barely say two words to her.

  Is that what our relationship has come to?

  Cache began placing items from his office in the boxes when all he wanted to do was leave it all behind. He finished up the last of the objects and walked to the elevator. Too many things weren’t adding up. He still didn’t know what to make of Miss Tisher and that note he found. Was it for his boss? Cache worried that maybe she was a fraud. He had a hard time envisioning such a nice lady like her being a criminal. She didn’t seem like someone who could even yell at a young child without crying herself. And now his boss, saying that Cache did his part for what he was hired for. What was that about?

  Getting down to the parking garage, the elevator dinged and jarred open. The garage wasn’t as congested as before, making it easier to get out of the area quicker to get home.

  Home.

  Cache missed it, and Adaline, and he could hardly call that little dump motel a house. He pressed his automatic car door button on his key ring, unlocking the car. He moved a few steps and halted. The hairs on his arm stood, and an unnerving feeling gripped him that someone followed close behind. He locked his car and glanced around the garage. Shuffling sounded from behind him. Cache started to turn and felt the hard crash of metal, smacking him upside his skull.

  Forty-One

  Adaline Rushner

  Thursday, November 11th

  5:00 p.m.

  The light in Dr. Lynchester’s office faded, and Adaline fought to keep her eyes open. Her arms didn’t move on demand, and she willed herself to hold on, but unconsciousness infringed upon her.

  A bed with a blue ruffled skirt and a tattered teddy bear invited her to sit down. She grabbed the brown bear and held him close.

  “What’s your name, funny bear? You look like you could use a bath.” Adaline paused. “You must not have anyone that loves you, either.” She held him tight and lay on the bed, snuggling her new friend. In the next room, she could hear someone chanting a song.

  There was a little owl

  High in a tree

  She tried to fly away

  But couldn’t get free

  Adaline sat up, kept holding the bear’s hand, and walked to the next room, following the melody of the song. “Why couldn’t the owl get free?”

  “I see you found Mr. Speckles,” he said.

  “Mr. Speckles? This is a bear, not a frog. Can’t you do any better than that on picking a name?”

  He smiled at her. “Actually, it used to be my sister’s.”

  “What happened to her?” Adaline blurted out. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you apologizing? It’s okay. Sit down, and I’ll tell you a story. You do like stories, don’t you?”

  She nodded and sat on the chair next to him. Adaline put her fist under her chin waiting for the story to begin.

  “My sister, Emery, needed help just like you. You remind me of her, and you look very much alike.

  “Like me?”

  “Yes, like you. You both are smart and beautiful but trapped in a tree like the song says. People who should love you don’t give you a chance, and that’s not the way it should be.”

  “Did your sister fly away?”

  “In a way. Yes.”

  He winced and gazed in the distance. Adaline hurt for him. She knew what not being loved felt like, and it made her feel horrible about herself. Something must be wrong with her if her own mother couldn’t even see beauty or good within her. She grabbed his hand and held it.

  “I’m sorry you’re all alone.”

  He looked up at her and, in a whisper, said, “Thank you.”

  “Can I fly away? I would really like to. I’ve thought about all the places I would go if I could get away from my home.”

  “Where would you go?”

  “To the stars, mostly. I just want someone to love me, and I don’t want to leave my parents. They don’t mean to hurt me.”

  He grabbed her chin and wiped a tear from her face. “You don’t ever have to go back there again. This is a safe place, and you’re not unlovable.”

  “How do you know that? I make a lot of mistakes and mess up. She punishes me because I’m a bad girl. If I was smarter, or prettier, she would love me. It’s my fault, and I can’t change who I am,” she said, sobbing.

  “Can I give you something?”

  Adaline glanced up at him. He lifted her long blonde hair and placed a chain around her neck, latching it in place. She looked down at the gold chain into the eyes of a little owl. “Thank you.”

  He grabbed both of her hands and led her to another room. “Come with me. I have something I think you will like.”

  He opened the back door of the small yellow house and pointed his finger. “There.”

  Adaline peered in the direction of his finger and saw white Gerber daisies in a garden next to the house. Smiling, she ran to the flowers and brought her nose to the tip of the petal. She inhaled and closed her eyes. The broken yellow house with the perfectly groomed flowers radiated beauty. She had the urge
to lay in the garden with the daisies surrounding her, something she would never be allowed to do with her mother.

  “Can I lay in here?” she asked, looking at the ground.

  His eyes lit up with excitement as he nodded and came toward her.

  She moved the flowers making sure that she didn’t flatten any of them, lay on her back in the dirt, and looked toward the sky. Clouds filled the vast blue space. Most of them appeared wispy, allowing the sky to say hello through the thin openings. The sun hid behind one of the few cumulus clouds she could see making the lining of the cloud glow. Adaline inhaled in and the fragrance of the daisies welcomed her senses, invigorating her, and she felt something new.

  Something warm. Peaceful. Solitude at the greatest level.

  Was it happiness? She did not know, but she didn’t want the feeling to end. After a while she sat up and shook her head, watching small dirt pellets fling off her hair and across the garden.

  She laughed.

  What was that? She held her mouth, unsure of what just happened. Adaline looked toward him, and he laughed, too. This is a happy thing. Yes. It is. She gave herself permission to giggle until her stomach hurt.

  He stood up and cut a stem of daisies from his garden, placing one bud in her hair, and the rest of the bouquet in her hand.

  The man lifted her up on a bench that dangled by two loose ropes firmly knotted onto the large tree branch. He gave her a push, and she moved her feet back and forth, feeling the wind blow against her cheeks.

  She was flying.

  Adaline liked the force she felt when the breeze went against her skin moving in the opposite direction. This is what it must feel like to be free.

  “Adaline? Adaline, wake up.”

  She opened her eyes and glanced around. The clouds had disappeared, and her legs shook uncontrollably. A piercing sensation made her shiver. She sat up and looked down at her soaked shirt.

  The swing, daisies, and sun had vanished. Her happy place had been taken from her once again.

  Forty-Two

  Officer Abbott

  Rushner Home

  6:30 p.m.

  Sitting in his police car, Abbott waited around the corner of Dreary Oak Drive for Adaline to get home, along with all the reporters. Except they stayed right outside her home. He’d already watched them ring her doorbell three different times in the ten minutes he’d waited.

  Should’ve come up with a better meeting spot.

  Abbott cracked his neck and sent a text to Adaline, I’ll meet you at your backdoor. A white car drove past him and swerved up the Rushners’ driveway. He squinted and held his door handle. Reporters jumped out of their cars and ran toward the vehicle.

  Mrs. Rushner stepped out of her car and slammed the door. She wore sunglasses, which seemed strange to him since the sun had already gone down. He got out of his car and walked behind the homes down the street, toward the Rusher’s place. Maneuvering his way around garbage cans and fences, he reached their backdoor and knocked.

  The door opened just enough to see her ear. “Officer Abbott?” Her voice sounded hoarse. “I’m sorry. Have you been waiting long? I had an appointment and lost track of time.”

  “It’s okay. Is now a good time to talk?” he asked.

  She kept the door mostly closed, and he couldn’t see her face. “You know, I’m not feeling good. I’d really appreciate it if we could do this another time.”

  “I understand. Let me leave you my card.” Abbott pulled out a card with a photo attached to it.

  Adaline reached for it. “I already have your number, but…” She paused. The door opened wide. “Come in, quickly.” She took off her sunglasses and stared at the picture.

  He wiped his shoes on the rug and glanced around her house. It had a cozy cottage feel, with a touch of elegance, but appeared as though no one lived in it. Whistling from a tea kettle rang from the kitchen. “Would you like me to take off my shoes?”

  She paced with urgency. “It’s okay. Come on in. I’ll be right back.”

  Abbott placed his hands in his pockets and walked around the main level of her home. The last time he’d been to the Rushners’ place, the inside looked thrashed, chaotic, and wildly uninviting. Now it represented a phantom model home.

  “You obviously have something on your mind, Officer?” Adaline turned the corner and stared at him with red eyes. Her pale skin was blotchy, as if she’d been upset or crying. He could almost play connect-the-dots of where each tear fell, from the path of redness down her face. “Please take a seat.”

  He sat on the couch and bent forward. “I do have some questions for you, Mrs. Rushner, if that’s okay.”

  “I thought I already gave you my statement.”

  “You did. But there are some things I would like to look further into,” he said, scratching his neck.

  Adaline sat on the edge of her chair and tapped her foot. “Who’s the girl in the photo you gave me?”

  “That’s my daughter, Aspen.”

  “I bet you both have a great time together.” Adaline looked away. “Would you like some tea?”

  He bunched his fists. “Okay.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I was already making myself a cup. I’ll make you one too.”

  “Glad to see you’re feeling better,” Abbott said.

  She paused. “Do you have any leads on my girls?”

  Abbott cleared his throat. “We’re working on it.” He snapped his bracelet, and the letters D A D spiraled around his wrist.

  He turned around and noticed her staring at him from the kitchen before reaching for a towel tied around the fridge door handle. The rose tint in her cheeks vanished to pasty white like someone took an eraser and wiped off the tear-stained dots.

  “Is something the matter, Mrs. Rushner?” he asked.

  She shook her head and stared off for a minute. “Give me a moment, and your tea will be ready.”

  Adaline picked up the teacups and turned in his direction. She didn’t smile or frown. It was a very honest and rare reaction. She set the cup down next to him and sat on the couch. “Now, tell me. What do you need to talk about if you have no new information to provide?”

  He ground his teeth and stared at the gold chain wrapped around her neck.

  She narrowed her gaze in on him. “You sure are very interested in my necklace. Why?”

  “I told you. My wife likes antiques,” Abbott said. “Has Sam been in your home with you?

  Her eyes widened. “You’re diverting the question? You know Sam?”

  Abbott brushed the bristle on his chin. “We go back.”

  “He hasn’t been inside my home. Just dropped me off last night.” She fidgeted with the buttons on her sweater. “Why are asking that?”

  “Mrs. Rushner, I’m not accusing you of anything,” he said. “You can trust me.”

  She laughed, almost a growl. “Trust. That’s a good one. I don’t trust anyone, Officer. Excuse me for saying so, but just because you have a badge doesn’t mean you can protect me or make me open up to you.”

  He grimaced.

  Get in line. I couldn’t even save my daughter.

  “Okay, then I’m going to trust you and let you in on a little secret.” He clung to the bracelet again. “My daughter was taken from me, too.”

  Adaline picked the picture up from the coffee table and put her fingers on the photo, caressing it. Her mouth quivered and she sat in silence.

  Abbott watched her. Watched every reaction, every twitch in her body—waiting for it to give her away. “It happened about a year ago…her kidnapping.” He paused and pressed his hands together. “They’ve never found her body.”

  She stared at him and he could see sympathy in her eyes. “How old was she?”

  “Eight.”

  Adaline covered her mouth and kept peering at the picture. “I’m sorry.” She looked up at him. “This is why you gasped when you saw a picture of Leora the day I was attacked. They’re the same age and look very similar,
our girls.

  Abbott bounced his legs. “Where is my daughter? I know you know where she is.”

  She glanced at him. “You…don’t think…” Adaline held her head, and a tear dripped from her face. “I would never hurt my daughters or your girl. I know how much you want to blame someone. It feels better, doesn’t it?” She wiped the tear away. “You need to hate someone, to be angry with them, because if you don’t, it’s like you’re letting go of the pain and saying it’s okay that this happened, and that’s not an option. But I’m not who you’re looking for.”

  She convinced him with her sincerity and openness. The fact that she understood his pain was refreshing. He felt he could connect with her, but he knew all about mind games. Adaline was playing a good one. He leaned in closer. “How do you have the same necklace that was left at my daughter’s kidnapping?”

  “What? That’s why you inquired so much about my necklace, and why you think I’m involved somehow? You were left the exact same necklace as this?” She pulled the gold chain out from under her shirt and held the locket in her hand.

  Abbott nodded and pulled out his phone. He tapped on a picture of the owl necklace left at his home, the day Aspen was taken, and gave it to her.

  She tilted her head. “No. It can’t be. Do you think there’s a connection?”

  He knew what he shouldn’t say, but he didn’t care. “I do, and it’s you.”

  “But we’ve never met until a few days ago. How do I have anything to do with your daughter?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out,” he said.

  Adaline took her full cup of tea to the sink and stared at him. “I already told you. I didn’t do anything. Does your boss know you’re here, threatening me?”

  Abbott glared at her.

  “I didn’t think so. Leave before I inform him of your misconduct.”

  He stood and held his hand out. “Okay, let’s not be rash. He doesn’t know I’m here, but we can help each other. I need some closure too, and you seem to be the person to provide that.”