Little Girl Lost

by Laurèn Lee

  “Mr. Golden? Mrs. Golden? I’m Penelope Waterman with the Crimson Chronicle. I’m here to ask you a few questions about your daughter.”

  Mrs. Golden looked up, and Penny nearly jumped back. Her eyes, completely bloodshot, stared at her loathingly. “Why are you here?”

  Penny didn’t waver. “I’m so sorry about your daughter. The town will want to know what has happened and how they can help.”

  “You’re a vulture here to pick our bones for a story,” she seethed.

  She’s not wrong.

  “If I can just have a few minutes of your time, I’ll be on my way. We will do everything we can at the Chronicle to help you find your daughter. Maybe even a bigger paper will pick up the story. The more exposure, the better.”

  Mrs. Golden bit her lip and tossed aside a stray hair out of her face. “All right,” she said, conceding.

  “If I may?” Penny nodded toward the empty chair at the kitchen table.

  Mr. Golden nodded and pulled out the chair for her. Penny sat down and put her phone in the center of the table beside three empty plates and unused silverware. On the counter lay three chicken breasts and a bag of red potatoes, neither prepared nor touched.

  “Tell me what happened today. When did you last see or talk to your daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Golden?”

  Mrs. Golden sat straight up and blew her nose into a tissue. Mr. Golden continued to rub her back, a stiff expression across his face.

  “Well, earlier today—”

  “What time would that be?” Penny interjected.

  “Noon? Maybe? Well, Harper wanted to go to her friend’s house. Lillian’s. She knows the rule is to be home before the street lamps come on, but she never came home.” Sandy Golden sniffed and blew her nose again.

  “I see,” Penny began. “Have you talked to Lillian’s parents?”

  Before Sandy or Kyle Golden could answer, Chapman spoke first. “We’ve talked to them, and they confirmed Harper left just before they served dinner. About two hours ago.”

  Penny nodded. “What do you think has happened, Mrs. Golden?”

  “She knows to be home before the streetlights come on. She knows it!” Sandy repeated, succumbing to a new round of sobs.

  Kyle Golden sighed and pardoned himself and his wife from the table. He stood and led Sandy down the hall to what Penny assumed was their bedroom. Sandy’s wailing reverberated off the delicate papered walls and only softened when Kyle closed their bedroom door behind her. He returned to the kitchen with a frown and a slow gait.

  “I’m sorry. Harper is our only child,” he said with a shrug.

  “No need to apologize, Mr. Golden,” Penny said.

  “Please, call me Kyle. Mr. Golden is my father.”

  Chapman took the vacant seat at the kitchen table in between Kyle and Penny. He took out his own notepad and scanned the scribbled details across the pages. Outside, rain descended from the dark sky and pounded against the windows. The wind howled and swirled, ripping leaves off the trees in a cascade of reds, yellows, and oranges.

  “Kyle, what do you think has happened to Harper?” Penny asked carefully.

  “The only thing I can think of is that she was running late and knew she wouldn’t be home before the street lamps came on. Maybe she’s afraid of getting into trouble, and she’s hiding somewhere? I honestly don’t know.” A single tear slithered down Kyle’s cheek.

  Penny turned to Chapman. “Chief, what is your department doing to find Harper?”

  Chapman stiffened and cleared his throat. “We have volunteers looking around the town, searching backyards and the playgrounds,” he said. “We are putting one hundred percent of our resources on it.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it protocol to wait twenty-four hours before a child is technically declared missing?”

  “That is correct, but under the circumstances, we have decided to label her as missing as of an hour ago,” Chapman said, sneering.

  Penny knew of the circumstances Chapman spoke of. She glanced over to the calendar hanging just above the Goldens’ landline. October thirteenth was next week.

  “Do you think someone has taken Harper?” Penny asked.

  More tears rushed down Kyle’s face. “I hope not. But, if they did, I’d beg them to bring her back to us. Harper is our little girl, our only child, the light of our lives. We love her more than words could ever begin to describe. Our hearts are aching right now.”

  On the outside, Penny remained somber and empathetic. On the inside, however, she gushed, knowing Kyle had just given her an incredible quote for the story.

  Kyle clutched his chest and put his head in his hands again. His body quaked against the kitchen chair, and his distraught cries sent shivers down Penny’s back. She had no idea what it felt like to lose a child, but she did know what it felt like to constantly worry about losing her mother. Different types of loss, both significant and horrific. She felt torn at the moment. Half of her yearned for the story; the other half did feel sorry for the man crumbling before her.

  Penny noticed the annoyance in Chapman’s eyes as he watched her. “Just one more thing, Kyle. If you don’t mind, do you have a photo of Harper we can use for the article? Maybe someone will recognize her?”

  Kyle whimpered but pulled himself up and strode to the dining room. Chapman covered the microphone on Penny’s phone and hissed to her. “It’s time you ought to be leaving now, Miss Waterman.”

  “I know. I will leave in just a minute,” she confirmed stiffly.

  Kyle returned with Harper’s school photo. The strawberry-blonde girl smiled at the camera with a missing incisor and a face full of freckles. Penny couldn’t help but smile at the photo and take in the innocence and joy of the girl staring back at her.

  “Thank you for your time, Mr. Golden. Uh, I mean, Kyle,” Penny said. “I’ll make sure to get this photo back to you after we scan it into our computer for printing.”

  Kyle nodded while Chapman stood and followed Penny to the door where she slipped into her boots and reached for the doorknob.

  “I hope it was worth it,” Chapman said with a growl. “You sure riled up those poor parents!”

  Penny didn’t turn around but opened the door and stepped out into the dreary October night.

  It was so worth it, she thought.

  Penny jogged to her car and raced back to the station. She had a front-page article to write and the deadline quickly approached.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Monday, October 7, 2019

  Sunlight squeezed through the dusty blinds as several crows crooned in the maple tree outside of Penny’s window. She stretched while simultaneously yawning and felt her muscles tighten as her toes brushed the edge of her twin bed. She rubbed her eyes and flicked the yellowish crust from the tips of her fingers. After a moment, Penny’s alarm on her phone sounded and she slapped the phone’s screen while it lay on the nightstand beside her. She never needed an alarm: her body’s natural cadence woke her up like clockwork every single day.

  Her heart thudded in her chest as she realized copies of the Crimson Chronicle were being delivered to the townspeople this very moment. Soon, they would read her above-the-fold article on the front page and see her name under the photograph she’d snapped with her phone of the crowd outside the little girl’s home.

  Adrenaline coursed through her veins and Penny wished to be a fly on the wall of every Crimsonian’s house as they read her story. However, once Penny sat up in bed and pulled her tangled hair into a messy bun, she knew other important tasks would stand in the way of her glory this morning. She needed to tend to her mother.

  Penny swept her legs over the side of her bed and nuzzled her feet into her knit slippers. She pulled a black silk robe over her Nirvana tee and yellow pajama shorts, which revealed more skin than some pieces of lingerie. Penny stalked out of her room, and even though she pined for a hot cup of coffee, she needed to see her mama first.

  Penny walked into her mother’s roo
m and smiled gently as the woman who brought her into the world returned her smile. Kari Waterman, former beauty queen turned librarian, passed down her good looks to Penny, but more than anything in the entire world, she hoped she wouldn’t pass down her disease.

  “Mornin’, Ma. How did you sleep?” Penny asked as she scooted to her mother’s bedside and lifted Kari’s frail body up into a sitting position.

  Kari nodded and smiled.

  “What are you thinking for breakfast this morning? Eggs? Bacon?”

  Kari shook her head and her smile faded. Penny scratched her head.

  “Cereal?”

  Kari shook her head again.

  “We don’t have much else, Ma. I haven’t had a chance to go to the store yet. How about some oatmeal?” Penny suggested.

  Kari nodded, and her smile returned.

  “Great. Now let’s get you up, okay?”

  First, though, Penny smoothed away the stray gray hairs from her mother’s face and stroked her cheeks. Kari closed her eyes blissfully and her body noticeably relaxed. Despite losing her father young, Penny’s mother held their family together with an unshakable determination Penny admired to this day.

  At Christmas, Kari showered Penny with more gifts and even bought her her first typewriter. They chopped down real Christmas trees together to find the holiday spirit and made hot cocoa every night while watching a different favorite Christmas film. No, Kari wouldn’t let her daughter suffer after the death of Penny’s father and her husband. In fact, the mother-and-daughter bond grew exponentially after Malcolm’s accident. All they had were each other, and they formed an unbreakable chain, woven between their hearts and souls. Nothing would separate them or crush their spirits, not even Multiple Sclerosis.

  Penny promised herself after her mother’s diagnosis that she would borrow Kari’s grit and confidence to return the favor of love and caring. She wouldn’t let her mother suffer if she could help it. Every morning, she dressed her mother, served her breakfast, took her on a walk around the block, and read to her before the day nurse came in to take over while Penny headed to work. Every night, except layout night, Penny cooked dinner for herself and Kari and they watched a movie or binged a new show. They were as thick as thieves, no doubt about it.

  Penny supported her mother and all of her whopping ninety pounds as she helped her to the bathroom and sat her upon the pristine toilet seat. Penny politely looked away while her mother emptied her bladder into the bowl, tinkling against the surface. Once her mother finished, Penny balled up a wad of toilet paper and helped clean her mother’s behind.

  At first, Penny’s stomach dropped when her mother lost her mobility. She’d have to take her mother to the bathroom and wipe her? She wanted to help her mother, of course, but wouldn’t it be embarrassing for both of them? But, before Kari lost her ability to speak without an unimaginable stutter, she reminded her daughter she did the very same for her as a baby. Life had come full circle.

  Next, Penny picked out her mother’s outfit for the day: a pair of sweatpants and a Crimson Chronicle tee shirt. The previous summer, Peter put Jayson in charge of ordering shirts for the summer picnic and unfortunately, Jayson ordered one hundred instead of ten. There were still boxes at the office of the white tees with the paper’s emblem blazing on the front. However, Penny took a handful of them to bring home to her mom. They were printed on a soft cotton material, which was perfect for her. And, Kari could wear one every day for weeks, and Penny still wouldn’t have to do a load of laundry, if she didn’t want to, that was.

  While Penny made breakfast, which consisted of oatmeal and freshly squeezed orange juice, Kari sat in her wheelchair by the sliding back door. She gazed outside at the colorful leaves whipping around in the October wind. The sun livened the colors of the fallen leaves and the scene in their backyard couldn’t be prettier if Monet painted it himself.

  Penny’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out to see Peter’s name on the Caller ID.

  “Mornin’,” she answered brightly.

  “Who told you to go interview the parents of that girl last night?” Peter quipped.

  Penny stood frozen in the kitchen, a handful of blueberries in her other hand. She furrowed her brow and her entire body stiffened. “No one. I got a lead and followed through. What’s gotten into you today?” she asked sourly.

  “I got an angry call from the parents this morning, that’s what’s gotten into me today.”

  Penny sighed and tossed the ripened berries into the two bowls of oatmeal on the stove. “Sorry, Peter, but the story needed to be written. A little girl is missing—”

  “I know very well what’s happening and I don’t want any more coverage on it. Media coverage will only embolden the perp,” he said with a terse finality.

  “But—”

  “No, buts. That is an order. Our town doesn’t need any more bad news,” he said.

  Penny grimaced, and anger rose in her belly, bubbling like a beast with a vengeance. Over the years, several girls disappeared around this time. No one knew why and no one ever found out why. Most of the town figured the girls just ran away. After all, no bodies ever turned up.

  Many years ago, when Penny was still a girl, herself, a child disappeared, one of many. Stacy Hutchings, a girl a few years older than Penny, vanished in the middle of the night. No one knew how or why. Her disappearance set the town into a frenzied panic. Mothers refused to let their kids out of the house and Penny couldn’t stop wondering what happened to Stacy. Did she run away? Was she taken?

  Penny wanted to press the issue with her boss but bit her tongue instead. She decided, though, she wouldn’t stop investigating. Say, if Peter were to change his mind, Penny would be locked-and-loaded with a story in hand. And to continue the reporting, Penny would join the search party for Harper taking place in less than an hour.

  Dozens of townspeople arrived for one of two search party organizations. One group of people would search the wooded area by the cemetery and others would look on the opposite side of town near River Road in the lush area of more trees and shrubbery.

  She left home once her mother’s day nurse arrived with smiles and pleasantries.

  “Have a good day, Miss Penny.”

  “You, too, Sophie,” Penny replied as she kissed her mom’s forehead and reached for her keys.

  Penny chose to join the search party near the cemetery. This area of Crimson Falls was home to some of the less-affluent citizens, while the wealthier citizens lived on the other side of town.

  A few older women stood at the front of the gathering point with packages of bottled water, crisp apples, and umbrellas. Dark clouds loomed overhead, promising another storm in the near future. The wind rattled the trees, ripping away what few leaves remained.

  Standing with the women was a familiar face which caused the oxygen to disappear from Penny’s lungs: Jennifer Owens.

  Jennifer waved emphatically to Penny, and she wondered if the pregnant woman knew about her husband’s trysts with her after hours in the newspaper office. And, yes, she cringed when she found out Jayson married a woman named Jennifer. Jennifer and Jayson Owens. The ideal couple except for the fact he’d been more unfaithful than faithful throughout their entire marriage.

  Jennifer’s skin glowed against the drab October sky, her face flawless and angelic. Her long, dark hair hung in a loose French braid almost to the small of her back. She was an interior decorator, soon to be a stay-at-home mother once their little one arrived.

  “Penny!” Jennifer cooed with natural grace and excitement.

  “Jennifer,” Penny said with less enthusiasm but a toothy grin nonetheless.

  “So happy you’re here. Are you, uh, reporting on the search party?”

  Several townspeople craned their necks in their direction, and Penny tried her best not to scoff and roll her eyes. “Not today. Just here for the good of the community.”

  “Of course, of course!” Jennifer protectively rubbed her protruding
belly.

  Penny kicked the dirt around her faded black Converse sneakers. “Is Jayson coming, too?”

  “Oh no! He’s working on a story,” Jennifer said. Then, she turned around to greet an older woman with frizzy white hair and too much blush.

  Penny snickered to herself. Jayson hadn’t been assigned a new story yet for the week. None of them have. Peter appointed stories on Tuesdays. So, wherever Jayson was at the moment, he’d lied to his wife about it. Penny couldn't help but wonder where Jayson could be, though. Usually, she assumed, he only lied to Jennifer when he was with her. So, where could he be now?

  Chief Chapman stepped out of his police cruiser and trudged toward the dozens of people in the clearing.

  “All right, folks. We all know why we’re here. Let’s split into groups of three or five and see if we can find this little girl. Shall we?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Monday, October 7, 2019

  Black. All black. No glimmer of hope hiding in the cracks of the cold concrete where Harper lay, unconscious. Not even her strawberry-blonde tendrils stood out against the blackness of the basement. Harper stirred, but barely. She stretched her short legs and feeble arms only to be greeted with the clangs of rusted chains chattering in the silence.

  With each tug against the metal, Harper’s sleep dissipated and fear struck through her to her very core. She opened her eyes and yet it was as if they were still closed. She couldn’t see anything — not one single thing. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she pulled against her cold, metallic restraints. Harper’s hands slipped as the dried blood made it difficult to hold onto them. Her stomach grumbled, and her tongue moved around her mouth, looking, searching desperately for water. She opened her mouth to call for help, but a croak screeched into the quiet instead.

  She tried as best as she could to clear her throat, but the lack of a drink caused a scratchy feeling the little girl couldn’t seem to shake.