Little Owl

by Lauri Schoenfeld

  The car beeped, and the driver’s door unlocked. Sam got in and put a ginger ale in the cupholder. “Long line. Sorry about that. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m getting a migraine. Can you take me home so I can lay down?”

  “I can’t do that, but we can stop by and pick up a few things before I take you somewhere safe.”

  She kept her eyes shut and shifted in her chair.

  I need to get out.

  Reaching for her ginger ale, she slowly opened the lid and pressed the drink to her lip. She intentionally coughed, dropping the bottle on her lap. “Shit. I need to get some more napkins. This is cold.”

  “That’s okay. I can get them,” Sam said.

  Now what.

  “Okay,” she said, smiling.

  Sam left and looked back at her before stepping into the gas station. She got out of the car and used her hand to glide the door shut quietly, then knelt on the ground. A click confirmed to her what she internally knew—Sam wanted to lock her in the car. Adaline shook out her hands and ran like she did when she was a kid through the cornfields. Never look back and keep moving.

  Sixty

  Cache Rushner

  Friday, November 12th

  1:00 p.m.

  Officer Abbott’s police car brought back memories of his thieving days as a kid and teenager. He’d stolen quite a few things being in and out of foster care, but the anxiety and thrill of it no longer held. This was the first time he’d sat in this spot since being with Adaline. She’d always built him up with her positivity and kindness. Adaline constantly saw the best in him, and that drove Cache to want to be a better man. Every day since he met her, he promised himself that he would do everything in his power to make a better life for both of them. His girls would not live off stolen goods to have the life they wanted. Not like he’d had to.

  The handcuffs seemed awfully tight, and he wondered if Abbott had made it that way on purpose. Cache kicked the back of Abbott’s chair repetitively.

  “What?”

  “I need you to call Sam and see where they are…now. Adaline’s in danger,” Cache said.

  “I don’t owe you anything, but you owe me everything,” Abbott said. “I thought your wife was involved for a while there, but it’s you.”

  “I can explain.”

  Officer Abbott swerved the police car to the side of the road and put it in park. He turned around with a cold expression on his face and rolled up his sleeves. “You son of a bitch. Where’s her body?”

  Cache shook his head. “Whose body?”

  “No one knows you’re with me. I could easily say we had an accident, and that lie would end with you.”

  “Except you won’t.”

  “You don’t know shit,” Abbott said, glaring at him. “You know exactly who I’m talking about, you demented pervert. Do you have a thing for little girls?”

  Cache stared at him wide-eyed. “Your daughter? You need to go back to the antique shop, now. He may have your daughter too.”

  Abbott clung to the bracelet on his wrist. “That’s what I’d say if I was a child murderer too. It’s clever. I’m not going anywhere until I get the answers I need from you.”

  “I’m not talking until I get a lawyer. So, take me in for questioning, or let me out.”

  Abbott punched the dashboard. “I can’t take you in. You know exactly why since you’re working with him.”

  “Working with who?”

  “Stalk, you asswipe. He’s dirty, and so are you,” he said. “I want info, and I’m getting it out of you, even if that means tearing every last organ from your body.”

  Cache gulped.

  Lieutenant Stalk is dirty. How’s he connected?

  He got a job position he was underqualified for and met the real estate agent on the same day, a few months before his girls were taken. Both brought them to Salt Lake City. Now, he’d been fired, attacked, and found out the agent who helped them buy a home wasn’t who she claimed to be. Dr. Lynchester got murdered after their session.

  Sam showing up.

  Abbott’s daughter being kidnapped.

  Think.

  Cache glanced out the window. A little girl with blonde hair and blue eyes stood on the sidewalk cradling a baby doll in her arms. She had a daisy in her hair.

  Daisy.

  Dr. Lynchester called Adaline that to bring her back to the conversation in their session. He couldn’t figure out why she’d said that, but it felt familiar.

  “Stalk is involved with your wife, isn’t he?”

  Abbott clenched the steering wheel. “Brother, that’s none of your business.”

  “It is if it involves Adaline. Obsession over someone…” Cache said. “Seth and Sam have some obsessive connections to my wife.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “If you’re obsessed with someone and can’t have them, you’d want to find some other attachment to them,” Cache said. “Maybe go as far as finding someone who looks how they used to be…as a young girl.”

  Abbott shook his head. “Sun and the moon.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “When I went to your home to talk with your wife, she told me about your Van Gogh painting. She explained to me how Sam’s dad used to say that her blonde hair and blue eyes reminded him of the sun and moon. And how she’d get daisies from their garden,” Abbott said. “Wait, you think someone took my Aspen because they had an obsession with your wife?”

  “Not just mine. Yours, too,” Cache said.

  Abbott scratched at the back of his neck. “Everything fell apart after Aspen was taken.” He paused. “A setup?”

  “It crossed my mind. To get us out of the way and make it appear to be a copycat murderer. My Leora resembles your oldest, Aspen. The kidnapper has a certain profile he likes. Eight-year-old blonde girls with long hair, exactly how Adaline used to look at that age. Do you know anything about Stalk? If he has children?”

  Abbott growled and turned to look at him before speaking. “When I met him, he’d never been married or had children.”

  “Is it possible?” Cache glanced at Abbott.

  “Will you listen to yourself? You think Stalk, Sam, and Seth are all involved with our girls’ murders. Next thing I know, you’re going to say we never had daughters to begin with.”

  “I’ve fucked up on many things, but I’ve done nothing to harm your family or mine,” Cache said. “You can kill me, but we both know you want to figure this out just as much as I do.”

  Abbott continued to glare at him. “Did you visit Dr. Lynchester today?”

  “You’re wasting time on useless questions,” he said.

  “Our fingerprint specialist found a few newly latent prints. When we scanned them, IAFIS pulled you up. Which places you right at a crime scene.”

  “IAFIS?” Cache asked.

  “Automated Fingerprint Identification System. Your sweat marks were everywhere,” Abbott said. “Why were you there?”

  Cache sighed. “I went to get answers about my wife. Dr. Lynchester was dead when I got there.”

  “You didn’t think to call the police when you saw her body?”

  “No, I didn’t think about it. I saw Dr. Lynchester lying there, and I got scared for Adaline’s safety.”

  “Why?” Abbott asked.

  Cache couldn’t feel the circulation in his hands anymore. He shifted his body weight, hoping movement would resolve the problem. “Listen. You don’t believe me. That’s understandable. If the role was reversed, I’d want to fuck you up, too.” He sighed. “Someone’s coming after me for a job that I never finished, and Adaline’s in the crossfire.”

  “Illegal job?”

  “I was given a proposition to kill Adaline ten years ago, and I couldn’t do it,” he said.

  Wait.

  That day, he’d been given an anonymous note telling him to kill a woman who murdered a young boy’s parents. By doing so, he’d be able to save a family in a way that he couldn’t do for hims
elf.

  “Why would you be given that job?” Abbott asked.

  Cache cleared his throat. “Because she killed my parents. I found out years after that.”

  Abbott cocked the gun. “You haven’t told her that you know?”

  “No. She’d know about my past con jobs. One being a hire on her.”

  Abbott moved in his seat. “I’m going to show you some business cards and you’re going to tell me what you know, or I pull the trigger.”

  Keeping his sight on the gun, Cache could see that Abbott’s hand held firm. He’d do it with no hesitation. “Okay.”

  “The man lying on the floor in Dr. Lynchester’s office had a picture of my daughter in his wallet,” he said. “Do you know who he is?”

  “I’ve never seen him before. Did he have any ID?”

  “No. But he had these.” Abbott held out three cards in his left hand. “One is for an auto repair, another for a pizza delivery, and one had a real estate agent’s name on it.”

  Cache tilted his head at the last. “Did you catch the real estate agent’s name?”

  “Why?” he asked, still holding the gun. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “Can you run a check on an Arlene Williams?”

  Lowering his gun, Abbott stared at him. “That was the agent’s card in the man’s pocket. How did you know her?”

  “It’s the agent who sold us the home, and someone who may have a vendetta against my wife.”

  Abbott locked the doors and placed the gun on the dashboard. “No crazy moves, Rushner.” He tapped something on his screen and waited for a few minutes before typing other things Cache couldn’t make out.

  “So?”

  “Cool it,” Abbott said.

  Cache grunted and tried to find a place to lie his head down that would somehow be comfortable with his circulation cut off. He bent forward instead.

  He thought back to the day they were told their girls’ bodies had been recovered and there was nothing to see. Adaline didn’t want to talk for days after that. She just gazed at the wall and began saying words to the air, claiming the girls sat right next to her. She’d changed, and so had he. Cache never felt satisfied with saying goodbye to urns. He couldn’t see Leora’s long blonde hair, blue ocean eyes, and a smile that lit up the room like the sun. Or Eliza’s bouncy curly hair, dimples, and chubby cheeks.

  No closure.

  Who signed off on the coroner report?

  “Got it,” Abbott said. He tilted the computer some so Cache could see. “Do you recognize her?”

  Cache laughed, but his grin faded quickly from the pit lingering in his stomach. “That’s the agent we bought from, only she claimed to be someone else, a Miss Tisher. The real Miss Tisher is much older. But this Arlene Williams isn’t an agent at all, just the seller of her home, looking for very specific buyers.”

  “How did you find her?”

  “That’s the interesting thing. She found me in Owling and gave me a card,” Cache said.

  “Another setup.”

  “That’s what it’s starting to seem like.”

  “I believe you,” Abbott said. “We’ve both made shitty decisions, but we’re trying to redeem ourselves to save the relationships that are most dear to us.” He gazed down in deep thought. “I want to believe that my daughter’s still alive. I found out some things today that have changed my view on everything. Stalk ordered the assassination on Lynchester.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t someone that sounded like him?” Cache asked.

  “Apparently, he has a side job as a pizza delivery guy.” He smirked. “I’m sure, brother. I know his voice. We have a long history. I’ll call and get some men stationed at the antique shop for now.”

  “Thank you. I still don’t see how this Arlene Williams and your Lieutenant Stalk connect?”

  Abbott paused. “From my experience, Rushner, they’re small fish in the big pond. I believe someone else is making them puppets to do the dirty work. Just a hunch.” He got out of the car, opened the back door, and retrieved some small keys for the handcuffs. “Lean forward so I can undo these, would you?”

  Cache maneuvered out of the cuffs and rubbed at his wrists. “Now what?”

  “Now, we are partners until we solve this. We both have a part to play.” He dialed a number and kept it on speaker.

  Cache appreciated the respect the officer gave him. When he’d said he believed him, he clearly meant it, which showed by his generosity in providing information and wanting to help each other.

  “Miles, I need this under the radar. Stalk can’t know about it. I need some men stationed at Lost Treasures on Ivy Lane and some to watch over Peyton.”

  “On it,” the man known as Miles said on the other end of the line. The phone clicked off.

  “Peyton’s your wife?”

  “Yeah. She’s living with the enemy, it seems,” he said. “I pushed her away.” Abbott shook his head. “I had my own addiction. The alcohol won.”

  “Let’s go fix that.”

  Abbott grinned and jumped at the sound of his phone ringing. He picked it up again. “I’ll check it out. Thanks for the tip.”

  Cache sat forward in the back seat. “What’s going on?”

  “Got a tip that Stalk met with someone at your neighbor’s house. I’m getting déjà vu,” Abbott said. “It appears I’ll be headed your way. Stay put and I’ll drive you home.”

  Abbott started the car and did a U-turn. He peered at him through the rearview mirror. “What’s on your mind?”

  “It feels like a trap. Does Stalk have someone watching you?”

  “Possibly. Why would you think it’s a trap?”

  “Adaline said something about the way the lady made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” Cache said. “It’s probably nothing.”

  “I remember her saying that when I first came out to your place. She takes a bite and calls it a kiss, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t think that was odd then?” Abbott asked.

  “Man, I didn’t think my wife was with it. So, no. I thought she was being paranoid, and I wrote it off.” His stomach ached, and he gripped his knees. He wrote Adaline off when she depended on him to listen and believe what she had to say. To believe in her.

  Abbott parked his car on the corner of Dreary Oak Drive, four houses down from the Rushners’ neighbor. He turned around in his seat to look at Cache.

  “All I know is my wife hasn’t been wrong about anything that has happened since we moved into this craziness,” Cache rubbed his wrists.

  “Will do,” Abbott said. “You don’t trust your wife?”

  “Not sure where her head is.”

  “Noted. I’ll cluck like a chicken if I’m in trouble,” he said and left the car.

  Cache bunched his hands together, suffocating the blood from his veins.

  Where are you?

  Sixty-One

  Officer Abbott

  Friday, November 12th

  2:00 p.m.

  Doing a sweep around the house took on a whole new meaning compared to most calls he responded to. This was personal. Abbott tried looking inside to see if he could track down why Lieutenant Stalk would visit the Rushners’ neighbor. The pieces in his life just kept growing more distant and unpredictable. The craving burned at his throat, taunting him to come back to his addiction where nothing needed to make sense. He could wash it away and forget all of it. He’d disappear into oblivion, at least for a night. He gripped his bracelet and closed his eyes.

  Don’t give in.

  What’s the point?

  They’re gone.

  Peyton’s not safe.

  He opened his eyes. “I’ll protect your mommy, Aspen.”

  Then I’m done.

  The sound of a high-pitched scream rang from inside the home. Abbott ran to the front of the house and pounded on the door. “Police. Open up.” There wasn’t an answer. He knocked again harder and waited for a response. Another squeal r
esonated behind the walls. He kicked the door in and raised his gun.

  “Police. Stay right where you are.” The yelling got louder, and he moved in the direction of a bedroom where the noise came from. The pink walls had butterflies floating around the room on pieces of strings, drowning him again in his misery. He clung to his bracelet.

  Mrs. Rushner was telling the truth.

  Abbott gulped and peered around the room.

  “Daddy?”

  He stopped right in his tracks and blinked, frozen in his spot.

  Daddy? Daddy, me?

  Abbott’s stomach dropped and his heartbeat sped up.

  He turned toward the small voice coming from the hall. Abbott paced a few steps out of the bedroom. His lips quivered, and he halted.

  “Aspen?”

  The little girl smiled.

  Bending down, he placed his gun on the floor and outstretched his arms. His daughter. After all this time, she was still alive and staring at him.

  “Daddy, behind you.”

  Abbott spun around to catch a knee to his face. The person carried a tough build, knocking him down with force.

  “You can’t have them. They’re my insurance,” the husky voice yelled at him through a ski mask.

  Grabbing the mask, Abbott attempted to yank it from the person’s face. “Aspen. Run.” Her pink light-up sneakers bounced with the motion of her feet.

  The man put his arm out and caught her wrist for a moment…then let go, causing her to fall to the ground. “Daddy. Help me.”

  Abbott kicked the masked person in the leg. The man hunched over, and Abbott grasped the wool mask, revealing the face behind the disguise. “Stalk.”

  Clenching his fist, he punched Stalk in the face and raised his arm in the air, ready to strike him once more.

  Aspen’s eyes grew wide. “Don’t, daddy. Stop, please.”

  Glancing at his daughter, he lowered his fist and spat on the man. “My wife and my daughter, Lieutenant? Let’s go, Aspen.”

  Stalk kicked his shin and he fell backward. “I can’t let you go. She’s my leverage, don’t you see?” He shook his head. “Peyton still has feelings for you,” he said, brushing his mustache. “I’ve been patient with it as much as one man can, but I’m just done with waiting. Once I’m the hero that found Aspen, she’ll have no doubts about being my side of sexy ass.”