Catch the Girl

by Melinda Woodhall

  Edgar paused, clearly uncomfortable.

  “Well, ma’am, I asked if she had an appointment, but she says she’s not sure. When I asked her name, she refused to say.”

  Eden raised her eyebrows, still staring at the phone, imagining the security guard’s disapproving face on the other end.

  “She doesn’t want to give her name?”

  “No, ma’am. From what I can tell, she’s had a…well, a rough time. Seems to be looking for help; she’s asking for you specifically.”

  “Well, bring her up, then,” Eden said, intrigued, and confident that Edgar wouldn’t allow anyone that posed a threat past the security station.

  Clearing away a pile of folders and papers on her desk, Eden stood and walked out to the glassed-in reception area to wait. She smoothed back a lock of blonde hair, adjusted the collar of her silk blouse and fidgeted with one of the pearl buttons on her sweater.

  Finally, the elevator doors slid open and Edgar stepped out. He turned back and motioned to someone within.

  A young woman emerged from the elevator. She was rail-thin, with a pinched, narrow face and anxious eyes. Disheveled red hair hung to her shoulders in limp strands. She took several timid steps into the corridor then stopped and jerked her head around, as if sensing someone behind her.

  Eden opened the glass door separating the administration suite from the corridor and beckoned for them to come inside. She tried to smile, but her smile faltered when she saw the girl’s muddy shoes and threadbare dress. The girl twisted her hands nervously in front of her, and Eden saw they were crisscrossed with cuts and scratches.

  “Hello, I’m Eden Winthrop.”

  She stepped back to fully open the door.

  “Please, come inside.”

  As the girl shuffled in, Eden turned to Edgar, her green eyes full of questions. He shrugged and raised his eyebrows.

  “The mailman dropped her off. Said he picked her up walking along Highway 42 out past I-75. Basically, the middle of nowhere.”

  Eden glanced back, noting the sprinkling of freckles on the girl’s otherwise alabaster skin. Bluish circles ringed her eyes, and her lips were chapped and dry.

  “Okay, but why did he bring her here?”

  A soft voice sounded behind Eden.

  “Because of…this…”

  The girl’s eyes flicked toward the corridor, then down to the floor; her voice faltered. She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. Eden reached for the offered paper, taking the opportunity to study the girl’s appearance.

  There were no visible track marks on her arms, and her pupils weren’t dilated. She was nervous but didn’t appear jumpy. Eden decided she didn’t look like an addict.

  Studying the thin circle of bruises around the girl’s slender neck, Eden scanned for additional injuries. She noticed an angry, discolored lump under a sticky strand of hair that had wilted over the girl’s forehead. She’d been beaten, may still be in shock.

  “You’re hurt,” Eden stated, keeping her voice neutral, unthreatening. “You need to see a doctor. We can get you to a hospital.”

  Edgar nodded and stepped forward, his hand settling on the handheld radio affixed to his security belt.

  “I can put in a call now if you like.”

  The girl shook her head. Her eyes returned nervously to the corridor again and again.

  “I don’t like hospitals. I just need a place to…to stay.”

  Eden hesitated, worried by the dazed look in the girl’s eyes. She might have sustained a concussion. She might even have some sort of brain injury. But Eden knew that, for the time being, it wouldn’t be a good idea to press the issue.

  Working at Mercy Harbor’s network of domestic abuse shelters had taught her that pressure only served to scare away most women. Victims of abuse often resisted going to the hospital at first. They wanted to avoid the questions and suspicions of doctors and nurses that might feel obligated to notify authorities.

  Many of the battered women that ended up at Mercy Harbor had initially tried to handle a violent situation on their own, too ashamed or scared to seek help. Some even went so far as to ignore broken bones or internal injuries.

  Eden turned to Edgar, realizing she wasn’t likely to get much information out of the scared woman with the older man hovering nearby.

  “Thank you for your help, Edgar.” Eden held open the door. “I’ll let you know if we need anything else.”

  Surprised by his sudden dismissal, Edgar paused, cleared his throat loudly and hitched up his pants.

  “Well, if you’re sure, Ms. Winthrop…”

  Eden gave a firm nod and a reassuring smile.

  “Yes, I’m sure. And thanks, again, Edgar.”

  Once the security guard had disappeared into the elevator, Eden turned back to face the girl.

  “We’re alone now, and I promise not to tell anyone you’re here unless you give me your permission. Okay?”

  The girl nodded and swallowed, her eyes fighting to meet Eden’s sympathetic gaze.

  “So, will you tell me your name? It’ll be easier for us to get to know each other that way.”

  Eden kept her voice casual, wanting to lighten the atmosphere.

  “I’m Ruth.”

  The words were barely a whisper, but it was a start. Eden nodded and stuck out a hand.

  “I’m happy to meet you, Ruth, and welcome to Mercy Harbor. Let’s go into my office. It’s a bit warmer in there.”

  She led Ruth inside and waved toward the sofa where Duke was still sleeping. The dog lifted his head as Ruth approached. He sniffed in her direction, and she returned his gaze, producing a shy smile.

  “Hi there, doggy. Can I sit here with you?”

  Ruth’s sweet, high-pitched voice reminded Eden of her niece, Hope, although it was clear that Ruth was no longer a teenager.

  She looks young, but I’d say she’s at least twenty, maybe older.

  Questions swirled in her mind as she watched Ruth place a small hand on Duke’s soft coat. The room was chilly, and Eden imagined the dog’s warm body was comforting to the girl, who had been out in the cold wearing only the thin dress.

  With a guilty start, Eden looked down at her own warm sweater and tugged it off. She crossed to Ruth.

  “Here, put this on. You must be freezing.”

  Ruth stared at her in confusion, then slowly stuck her arms into the sleeves and allowed Eden to wrap the sweater around her thin body. Eden sat next to Duke and joined the girl in scratching the golden retriever’s back.

  “Ruth, what happened to you, and why does that paper have my name and address on it?”

  Ruth’s hands grew still, and her back stiffened.

  “I…I can’t remember. I woke up and…it…it was in my pocket.”

  A pained look passed over her narrow face, as if she were trying to remember something. A disturbing thought popped into Eden’s mind.

  Or maybe she’s trying to forget.

  “Take your time, Ruth. You’ve hit your head. You may have a concussion. Maybe you’re a little confused?”

  Ruth nodded, her chest starting to hitch in and out as if holding back a sob.

  “I woke up in the woods,” she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. “I was scared…so scared…and my head hurt. I knew I had to get away before...”

  Ruth gazed down at her injured hands then closed her watery eyes, letting her voice trail away as she rocked back and forth.

  “Before what, Ruth? What happened? Who hurt you?”

  But even as she asked the question, Eden suspected that whatever had happened to Ruth in the woods had been too traumatic for the girl to talk about. She needed time to rest and heal.

  Eden knew that survival instinct could force a shattered psyche to block out disturbing memories. She’d been in a similar state of mental distress herself after her sister, Mercy, had been murdered five years earlier. Eden had been the one to find her sister’s body, and she’d locked away mem
ories of the tragic day for years.

  It had taken therapy, patience and plenty of time for her to overcome the resulting anxiety and allow herself to remember what had happened. Eventually she’d been able to make peace with what she’d seen and done that long-ago day.

  But she could see that Ruth’s journey was just beginning. First the frightened girl would need a place to rest. A quiet place where she could begin to feel safe again. Once she’d gotten Ruth settled into a shelter, Eden would bring Reggie in to help.

  With counselling and therapy from the kind-hearted director of the foundation, Eden was confident Ruth would find the courage to face the truth and seek help. Maybe she’d even be willing to tell the police what had happened and who had beaten her.

  With luck we’ll get the abuser off the streets and behind bars before he can hurt anyone else.

  Chapter Three

  The congregation’s extensive vegetable garden was flourishing under the bright rays of the winter sun; neat rows of lettuce, arugula, collards, kale and spinach decorated the dark, rich soil in varying shades of green.

  “Sister Marie, you comin’ in soon? It’s getting cold out here.”

  The man’s voice pulled Marie out of her troubled thoughts and back into the brilliant blue Florida morning.

  “Yes, I’m coming. Just need to pull another head of lettuce.”

  Marie felt Eli’s intense gaze on her as she knelt by the lush bed of greens and set her basket on the ground. When he didn’t turn to leave, a ripple of irritation fluttered down her spine.

  He’s just worried about Ruth and Candy. I’m sure everyone is.

  Marie had woken up that morning to discover the main house of the CSL compound in an uproar. Two young women, Ruth Culvert and Candace Newbury, were gone. It appeared they’d left in the middle of the night with only the clothes on their backs. No one knew what to make of it. Marie suspected she was the only one who’d known they were planning to leave, although she hadn’t known they would go so soon.

  “I can wait for you and help carry your basket up to the house…if you want.”

  Marie heard the eager plea behind Eli’s suggestion, and another wave of irritation caused her back to stiffen.

  Why won’t he just go away and leave me alone?

  A twinge of guilt stirred at her unkind thought. Perhaps it was unfair of her, but she resented the young man’s obvious infatuation all the same. She’d joined the Congregation of Supreme Love hoping to find peace, willingly leaving all her worldly cares and problems behind.

  But after two years living within the cloistered world of the commune, she was still restless, still racked with resentment and regret. Forming any kind of romantic relationship was out of the question, at least for now. And, in any case, the quiet, awkward Elijah Dunkel was not her type.

  “You go on ahead, Brother Eli. I’ll be in soon.”

  Ignoring his look of disappointment, Marie trained her eyes on the ground, pretending to look for the perfect head of lettuce. She waited until Eli had walked back toward the big house before raising her head and looking out at the river. Her thoughts returned to the previous evening and her last conversation with the girls that were now missing.

  “I’ve gotta get out of here.”

  Marie offered up an exasperated smile at Candace Newbury’s whispered confession. They were clearing off the dinner table and sweeping the floors of the big dining hall.

  “Yes, I know, Candy. You’ve been telling me that for ages.”

  Marie rolled her eyes and continued sweeping.

  “No, this is different. I mean it, Marie.”

  Candace put an impatient hand on her arm.

  “This is serious. Like, life and death serious. I’m leaving…soon.”

  The tremor in Candace’s voice caused Marie to look up in alarm. The girl’s pretty face was tense, her blue eyes wide.

  “Why? What’s going on? Has something happened?”

  Candace cast a guarded look around the room, as if someone might be watching them, or listening in on their conversation.

  “We can’t talk here,” Candace hissed. “Let’s go to Ruthie’s room.”

  They hurried to the long, low building that was home to the commune’s single women. Candace paused when she saw several women talking in the hall. They all exchanged nods as Candace knocked quietly on Ruth’s door.

  “Sister Ruth?” Candace called out in a calm voice, smiling over at the other women, trying to act casual as she rattled the doorknob, anxious to get in.

  Ruth peeked out the door, then stepped back to let them enter the tiny room. Marie saw immediately that Ruth was even more agitated than Candace. Her concern deepened at the girl’s words.

  “You can’t tell anyone that we’re going. No one can know.”

  Marie nodded, but Ruth insisted.

  “You have to promise you won’t tell.”

  “Okay, I promise. Now what is going on?”

  “I’ve done something stupid,” Candace whispered, looking over her shoulder as she spoke as if scared the women in the hall might be listening outside the door. “I’m in trouble, and I’ve gotta get away…”

  Ruth interrupted; her thin, plain face twisted in anger.

  “It takes two people to get into her kind of trouble…although men rarely see it that way and-”

  Candace turned to Ruth with a panicked expression.

  “We don’t have time for all that. What’s done is done, but I gotta get away before…”

  “Before what?” Marie asked, her patience wearing thin at the hushed voices and half sentences.

  Ruth reached over and pushed up the sleeve of Candace’s dress.

  “Before he does something more serious that this!”

  Marie gasped at the angry stripes of purple and blue around Candace’s upper arm. Her eyes narrowed in outrage as she realized someone’s fingers must have left the ugly marks.

  “Who?”

  Marie’s voice was quiet, her eyes wide.

  “It doesn’t matter who,” Candace said, her eyes watering. “It was all a big mistake. I never should have come here in the first place.”

  Ruth flinched as if she’d been struck, and a guilty look flitted across her face. When she saw Marie watching her, she turned to face Candace.

  “Candy’s gonna leave, and I’m gonna help her,” Ruth said, straightening her back and raising her chin. “But I’m not sure where she should go. Willow Bay’s the closest town and…well, I thought you might know someone there.”

  Marie shook her head, denial kicking in automatically.

  “I don’t know anyone there.” She met Candace’s eyes, then looked away. “Well, not anymore.”

  But as Marie stared at the bruises on Candace’s arm, an idea began to form. She closed her eyes, trying to decide if she should get involved. If she did, the information she provided could lead back to her; the refuge she’d found at CSL would be in jeopardy. Finally, she looked at Ruth.

  “You have a pen and paper?”

  Ruth pulled out a small notepad and a ballpoint pen. Marie scribbled down a name and address on the top sheet of paper and handed it to Ruth. She thought for a minute, then wrote the same name and address on the next sheet and gave it to Candace.

  “This place helps women that have been…hurt,” Marie said.

  She’d seen the name in one of the bundles of newspapers the commune collected to recycle. The headline on the front page had made her heart stop, and she’d impulsively torn out the article, hiding it under the nightgowns in her drawer. Each night since she would stare at the words, knowing they only served to remind her of the past, but too weak to resist.

  “They might be able to help you there, and-”

  A sharp rap on the door interrupted her words.

  “Sister Ruth? I’m brewing a fresh pot of tea.”

  The door opened. A tall woman with a mass of curly black hair stuck her head into the room and looked around with a smile.

  “I’m b
rewing up some of Ma Verity’s special tea. She thought you girls might like a cup before lights out. Said it’ll help you sleep.”

  Ruth swallowed hard and nodded.

  “Thank you, Sister Judith. That would be nice.”

  Judith beckoned the girls to follow her, but Marie excused herself, wanting to be alone, needing to think about what she’d heard and seen.

  Back in her room Marie changed into a modest cotton nightgown and got into bed, pulling the hand-made quilt around her, unused to the chilly night air. She lay awake for a long time before she sat up and switched on the bedside lamp.

  She pulled out the newspaper article and read it several times. Her eyes returned to the same name, over and over, until finally she forced herself to tuck the article away and close her eyes. When she opened them again, someone was knocking on her door. Ruth and Candace where gone.

  The sound of voices and doors slamming brought Marie’s mind back to the garden. She looked around to see if anyone had caught her daydreaming. The wide expanse of lawn and garden was empty, but a CSL produce truck had pulled up to the barn, ready to be loaded for the day’s deliveries.

  Marie’s eyes fell on Jacob Albright’s tall, muscular frame. As if sensing her stare, he turned and looked at her, his face grim and his eyes hard. He heaved the heavy crate of radishes he was carrying onto the truck, then turned in her direction and began to stride across the lawn with impatient steps.

  “You seen Ruth or Candace today?”

  The words were out of Jacob’s mouth before he’d reached her, and Marie’s mouth went dry. She stared at him for a long beat, unable to reply as she registered his barely concealed anger, noting the way he’d declined to use the commune’s long-standing tradition of calling each member Brother or Sister.

  Guess he doesn’t consider runaways to be part of the family anymore.

  Swallowing a thick lump in her throat, Marie shook her head and attempted to look innocent.

  “No, I haven’t seen them since last night.”

  Jacob’s eyes narrowed, then strayed to her hands, which were nervously shredding the crisp head of lettuce she’d just placed into her basket.

  “You sure about that, Sister Marie?”