by Rita Herron
Ellie glanced at the husband. “Were you all three together for breakfast?”
A muscle ticked in Stan’s jaw. “Yeah. I had a work phone call, but I was home.”
“Where do you work?”
“I drive a delivery truck for one of the supermarket chains. But… my boss just laid me off. That’s what the call was about.”
“That had to have been a blow,” Ellie commented.
“Sure as hell was. Sucks when you can’t pay your bills.” His gaze dropped to his hands, and she noticed scrapes on his knuckles. From a fight? Had he punched something or someone? Or from scouring the woods for his daughter?
Thunder clapped above the treetops, making Susan startle. A reminder they couldn’t waste time. “It’s not his fault,” Penny’s mother said. “Stan is a hard worker, always punctual, never takes a sick day. He even worked holidays this year. But the company’s done this before, laid off people during slow times.”
Being upset over the layoff could go to motive if Stan had hurt his daughter.
She’d explore that line of questioning later.
“What happened after the call?” Ellie asked.
Rain clouds shifted, blocking the fading light and casting shadows across Stan’s face. “Penny and Susan were planning a picnic when I came back into the room.”
“I encourage her to play outdoors, not to just sit in front of the TV or play video games.” Susan gave a small shrug. “We try to be good parents.”
Ellie patted her hand. “I’m sure you are, and that she knows you love her.”
Stan flexed his hands. “When Penny heard I didn’t have to go to work, she begged me to go with them, too. Take my mind off things.”
“I packed a picnic lunch, and we drove into the mountains,” Susan continued. “Penny played in the playground, then we picnicked here.” She indicated the plaid blanket on the ground in front of them. “After we ate, we carried the breadcrumbs to the creek to feed the birds.” Susan’s chin quivered. “With my allergies, I didn’t sleep well last night, so I stretched out to take a nap while Stan and Penny went fishing.”
Ellie angled her head toward Stan. “Did you catch anything?”
He frowned. “Naw, fish weren’t biting. Penny got bored and wanted to look for nuts and sticks and feathers to make a collage,” Stan continued. “She’s always collecting stuff.”
He paused, and Ellie could see the wheels turning in his mind. Remembering or fabricating a story?
“What happened next?”
He looked down at his hands again. He seemed to be staring at the bloody scrapes on his knuckles without really seeing them. “My leg was throbbing, so I sat down to rest.”
“What’s wrong with your leg?” Ellie asked.
“Had an accident last year and broke it. Still hurts when it’s cold outside or when it rains.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Ellie said.
He shrugged. “Anyway, I told Penny not to go far. I stayed by the creek with the fishing poles while she went digging around.”
In her mind, Ellie saw the little girl skipping through the woods gathering sticks, nuts and river rocks just as she’d done when she’d followed her own father as a child. She’d collected arrowheads, framing them and hanging them on her wall.
“A few minutes later, I called out her name and she didn’t answer.” His voice rose with panic. “I ran all over the place looking for her and couldn’t find her.”
“His shouting woke me up,” Susan cut in. “Then we both started searching.”
“Did you phone 911?” Ellie asked.
“I did,” Susan said. “That ranger came over with a couple of other men and they started looking. But they couldn’t find her either.” Raw fear laced Susan’s voice. “What if she fell on one of those ridges? Or hit her head? Or what if she slipped in the creek?”
“Ranger McClain and his men will look into all those possibilities,” Ellie assured her. “Did you see anyone else in the woods today? Another family maybe? A stranger?”
“No, no one,” Stan answered.
“Wait,” Susan said. “There was a young couple. They got here after Stan and Penny walked down to the creek.”
“Were they hiking the trail?” Ellie asked.
“When they saw me, they decided to take their picnic to the river. They seemed like they wanted to be alone.”
Possibly. Or could they have been casing the area for a child to take?
“Anyone else?” Ellie pressed.
“Some teenagers, three boys.” Susan pointed toward the trail that led northeast. “They were hiking to the falls.”
Stan looked panicked. “Why do you ask? Do you think Penny didn’t just wander off? That those boys hurt her?”
Ellie forced a neutral expression, although her mind raced with scenarios. “That’s not what I’m saying. If someone else was out here, they may have seen which direction Penny went.” Or witnessed what happened to her.
Stan dropped onto the boulder beside his wife and lowered his head into his hands. “What if some monster took my little angel?”
Ellie hesitated for a heartbeat. “Was there anyone—a family member, a brother or uncle, a friend, a neighbor—who showed special interest in Penny?”
“No,” Susan cried. “We don’t have family close by. But our friends and neighbors and the teachers, they all love Penny, but nothing weird, you know?”
“Stan, how about you? Can you think of anyone?”
He shook his head. “No.”
A strained moment passed. Birds chirped and the sound of an animal scavenging for food drifted through the forest. The wind picked up, howling off the ridges.
“Okay… Is there anyone who might want to hurt you by taking Penny? Or someone who thought you had money for a ransom?”
“Heavens, no,” Susan replied. “We live paycheck to paycheck.”
Stan’s eyes darkened, and he grunted. “I had a beef with my boss a while back. But that was because he shorted me in my paycheck. He said it was a mistake and fixed it.”
That ruled him out.
Ellie gestured to the scrapes on Stan’s hands. “How did you get those?”
He ground his boot into the ground, smashing a pinecone to pieces. Dust fluttered in Ellie’s face.
“I… I was so pissed about that call I punched the wall,” he admitted. “How’s a man supposed to put groceries on the table if he can’t work?”
She glanced at his wife for confirmation. “He just lost it for a minute, that’s all. What kind of heartless person fires their employees when they have children to feed?”
“I understand your frustration,” Ellie said, hoping to form a connection with the couple. “Sometimes hitting something is a good way to let it out.” She let the subtext sink in.
Stan pinned her with razor-sharp eyes. “I have a punching bag in the garage. I started using it when our money got tight.” He stood and paced, fists clenched by his sides. “But I don’t take it out on people. And I’d never hit my little girl. Never.”
“We both love Penny,” Susan said earnestly. “We had a hard time getting pregnant. Not Stan’s fault but mine.” She looked down, lips pressing tightly together. “We had to go through IVF. The treatment cost us a fortune.”
Stan went ramrod straight. “She’s worth every damn cent,” he said. “If anyone hurts her, I’ll kill them with my bare hands.”
6.
Ellie inhaled a deep breath. If her child was lost or abducted, panic might blind her. She might lash out in rage.
“This is the spot where you picnicked, correct?” Ellie asked, trying to focus on the practicalities.
Stan narrowed his eyes. “Yes. We’ve already told the ranger all this.” He pointed toward the rock bed by the creek. “Then we skipped stones and fished.”
“Do you remember anything else? A noise nearby? A car from the parking lot? Voices?”
Stan shook his head. “Just Penny humming. She squealed every now and then when
she found a rock or leaf she was excited about. And then it got quiet and… she was gone.”
“Did you fall asleep too?” Ellie asked.
A self-deprecating look streaked across Stan’s eyes. “No. I just had a lot on my mind. Wondering how we’d make ends meet this month.”
Voices drifted from the parking lot, and a minute later, Ellie’s father and Bryce appeared in the clearing. Jaw set tight, her father started toward her.
Ellie raised a hand, and he stopped in his tracks. She wasn’t ready to talk to him. Yet.
She might never be.
Cord glanced back and forth between them, his brows furrowed, but he didn’t question it. Instead he motioned for her father and Bryce to join him at the board where he’d tacked the map and search grids.
“I have to do something,” Stan said. “I’m going to look for Penny.” He darted toward Cord and her father.
Ellie let him go. She had no real evidence to hold him. And if he was innocent, he was entitled to search for his own child. Although he should be watched, no matter what—if guilt kicked in because he’d hurt Penny, he might even lead them to her.
After her father and Bryce were up to speed, Ellie pulled Cord aside while the men organized themselves into teams.
“The timeline is off. My guess is Dad fell asleep, and Penny was gone long before he realized it.”
Cord shifted. “Then Penny would have had time to venture farther away than our original search radius.”
Ellie nodded. “Or if someone abducted her, they had time to escape.” She tucked an errant strand of hair back into her ponytail. “Also, Susan saw three teenage boys hiking to the falls, and a couple headed toward the river. Pass the word to the teams to look for them. We need to question everyone out here today. Maybe someone saw something.”
“I’ll fill everyone in and expand the search,” Cord said.
“Have them look for signs of an abduction. Drag marks. A scuffle. Blood.” Ellie paused. “Also have someone stick with Matthews, just in case he’s up to something. I’ll stay with Susan. Without her husband by her side, she might open up.” Susan’s comment about it being her fault they had trouble getting pregnant bothered her. Had Stan been angry with his wife? Had he wanted a child as badly as she had? Had he resented spending the money on IVF?
Cord muttered agreement, then hurried to join the other men.
Wind whipped leaves around Ellie’s feet, dark clouds rumbling, casting a grayness everywhere as the last remnants of the sun started to fade. Already she could feel the temperature dropping.
Worse, it would be dark soon. Tree frogs croaked like a band of bandits, crickets joining in the song. Shadows were already hovering and flickering in the deep forest, the sound of a wild animal’s howl reverberating off the mountain.
Ellie yanked on latex gloves, removed her camera from her bag, then walked around the area and snapped photographs. The plaid blanket weighed down by rocks, the picnic basket holding plastic cutlery, paper plates and napkins. A trash bag lay on the ground, drawing ants. A cooler sat next to it, empty plastic water bottles by the trash, a plastic container half full of Oreos spilled on the ground. Empty potato chip bags. A chewing gum wrapper. Nothing that stuck out.
Still, she texted the captain and requested an Evidence Response Team, and added:
Have Landrum research the parents’ financials. And get warrants for the couple’s home, computers and other devices.
Captain Hale simply responded, On it.
She circled the picnic area again, searching for blood or signs of a struggle. A torn piece of clothing or a lost button. A rock where Penny might have accidentally fallen and hit her head.
Nothing.
She closed her eyes and formed a mental picture of the family. Penny’s blue eyes smiling, pink barrette in her hair, blonde ponytail blowing in the wind. Penny chattering beside her parents, eating lunch, skipping stones across the water’s edge. Shrieking with excitement over a tiny stone that looked like a gold nugget.
The creek water rippling softly over the jagged rocks, lulling the mother to sleep. Penny’s father tired and frustrated over losing his job. Worried. Angry. Dozing off while something happened to his daughter.
Ellie followed the path to the creek, looking for footprints and disturbed brush, broken twigs and crushed leaves. Anything to tell the story of where the little girl had been. Or signs of someone else at the scene.
Large footprints that could have matched Stan Matthews’ stopped at the creek, then they wove in circles and returned to the picnic site. The ERT would cast his footprints for comparison.
Evening shadows flickered across the trail, the sun dropping lower into the horizon beyond the pines, oaks and cypresses. A red, orange and yellow sky streaked the tops of the mountain peaks, disappearing into black as the storm threatened.
With so many search workers, the ground would soon be muddied, the scene compromised with their prints. The wind could already be scattering smaller pieces of evidence.
Ellie surveyed the area. This park served as the base for the AT; it was a popular entry point for hikers beginning their northbound trek and also drew tourists who enjoyed the falls. The closest shelter on the trail was at least eight miles away. The thought of Penny lost and alone sent a shiver right through her. To a seven-year-old, the endless mass of trees and brush would look like a jungle she’d never be able to escape from.
People who set out to tackle the AT saw it as an adventure, a challenge. But most weren’t prepared for the grueling steep inclines and the monotonous miles of wilderness. Thick trees hugged each other so tightly light could barely seep in. After a while, the mass of oaks, pines and ash blurred into one another. The trail maps were difficult to read for inexperienced navigators. Hikers got lost and wound up walking in circles. Some disappeared and were never found.
She prayed Penny wouldn’t be one of them.
Faced with illness, hunger, fatigue, and plunging temperatures, it was common for hikers to give up, leaving the adventure to return home to the comfort of warm beds, showers and hot meals.
AT shelters—wooden lean-tos with three sides—offered some refuge when conditions turned dangerous, although the buildings were crudely constructed. Worse, rodents infested them, leading to diseases that rendered hikers incapable of continuing.
Then there were those that the mountains hid. Recluses, the homeless, drug addicts, and criminals seeking refuge in the forest. The Shadow People, her father called them. Many of whom didn’t want to be found.
A child alone with no provisions didn’t stand a chance. At least not for long.
Ellie walked along the creekbank, illuminating the ground with her flashlight. Cord joined her, his expression pensive as he pointed out the men’s boot prints, followed by a smaller pair that looked like sneakers. They most likely belonged to Penny.
She snapped more pictures then turned in a wide arc, following Cord toward a giant oak. Moss and lichen covered the ground. Wild mushrooms pushed through the soil.
“Looks like the father rested in this spot,” Cord said. A Braves baseball cap lay in the tangled brush; had it fallen when he’d dozed off, and then been forgotten about in his frantic search?
She bagged it to verify it belonged to Stan, before returning her attention to the footprints.
The little girl’s prints remained near the creek and disappeared around the curve ahead. The path grew steeper and narrower, threaded with winding tree roots and cobbled with rocks. Dirt and dust swirled around her as the wind intensified, clogging the air.
“She was following the creek,” Ellie said.
“It’s shallow here, but a couple of miles downstream it reaches a good five feet in depth,” Cord pointed out. “If she was a good swimmer, it wouldn’t be deep enough for her to drown. Although I can’t imagine her wading in the frigid water.”
“Unless she had an accident and fell into the creek,” Ellie replied. Or someone drowned her. She tried to shake away the though
t, but it latched on, ugly and sinister.
The creek grew wider past the hill where they stood, the ground rockier, the drop-offs severe. If Penny slipped and fell in, she could be hurt, hanging on, hoping for someone to save her. “Get a team to follow the creek downstream,” Ellie said.
Cord’s brows shot up, as if he realized she was right. With night setting in, they had to act quickly.
He made the call while Ellie panned the flashlight to the right. About fifty feet north, something shiny glittered in the weeds. She walked to it, checking the ground as she went, then stooped to pick it up.
An old pocketknife. Plain wood handle. A common brand you could buy at any outfitters’ store. Still, she bagged it.
Another few feet ahead, something else was caught in the brush. Ellie crouched down to examine it. She pushed aside the weeds and found a child-sized pink and white friendship bracelet. With gloved hands, she snagged it and turned it over in her hand.
The name Penny was etched on the inside.
7.
The sight of the bracelet made Susan break down. “Yes, that’s hers. We made them last week with her little friend.” Penny’s mother reached for the bagged bracelet, but Ellie shook her head.
“I’m sorry, I need to keep this. At least for now.” She gestured toward the Braves cap. “Is this Stan’s?”
Susan nodded, then wiped at her eyes. Ellie stowed the evidence bags she’d brought back from the creek, then asked for the parents’ phones.
“I’d like to put a trace on them in case someone calls you with information about Penny.” Or a ransom call, she thought.
Susan narrowed her eyes but did as she was told. Ellie texted Cord and asked him to confiscate the father’s phone as well.
Cord responded: Scheduled search teams around the clock. Your father is guarding Matthews. He refuses to leave the search.
Copy that. I’m driving Susan home.
Then she texted Deputy Heath Landrum: Meet me at the Matthews’ house.
