by Tom Deady
The restroom! She grabbed onto the thought like a lifeline and searched the library to find it. When she did, she threw open the door. The room was empty. Fighting back panic and unable to stop the flow of tears, she went back out and joined Jacob at the desk.
His expression told her everything she needed to know. Ashley was gone. Hannah’s world pitched like the deck of a ship in turbulent waters. Jacob thanked the librarian, then took Hannah by the arm and led her outside.
“Hannah, you need to pull yourself together.”
She heard the words but couldn’t quite grasp their meaning. She kept her hand protectively on Ashley’s cell phone, as if it were a link to her. Hannah’s eyes were locked on her bike. Without saying a thing, she went to the rack and spun the combination lock. It took her a couple of tries—it was hard to see the numbers through her tears. Jacob helped her put the bike in his trunk, and then they got into the car.
She turned in her seat, willing Ashley to be standing on the library steps as Jacob pulled away.
Hannah sat in the living room, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Dad and Jacob. The tension was a physical thing, making the air heavy and oppressive. They’d told Dad everything, taking turns spilling out parts of the story. He was angry and worried—his first instinct had been to call the police. Hannah, with a lot of help from Jacob, was able to talk him out of it. At least for the moment.
Dad ran his fingers through his hair and paced the small room. “This is unbelievable. A young girl, a girl I’m supposed to be responsible for, is missing. Give me one good reason not to call the police.”
Hannah looked at Jacob. He’s not going to answer and incur the wrath of Dad. “According to the blogger—”
Dad cut Hannah off, hands raised in exasperation. “The blogger might be the one that has her. Of course, he doesn’t want the police involved.”
Jacob spoke up, “Brian, I think—”
“And you!” He whirled to face Jacob. “I can’t believe you would be willing to put these girls in harm’s way. What were you thinking?”
Jacob leaned forward, cupping his chin. Hannah stood and put a hand on the big man’s shoulder.
She leveled her gaze at Dad, putting on her most adult expression. “I know you’re upset but this isn’t helping Ashley. I dragged Jacob into this looking for help.”
Dad’s face crumbled. His shoulders slumped and he staggered to the couch. His next words were almost inaudible. “Why didn’t you come to me for help?”
Hannah’s heart cracked. The desperate emptiness in his tone brought a wave of despair over her. She couldn’t speak.
“Brian,” Jacob said softly, “kids don’t always want to go to their parents.”
Dad silenced him with a glare.
“I’m sorry,” Hannah whispered. “You’re right. I should have come to you. I just... things were finally starting to get back to normal.”
Dad winced, then wrapped Hannah in a hug.
“I know, Hannah, I know. I just realized I’m more upset with myself than with you. If I had been there for you, you would have come to me.”
He let her go and the three looked at each other for a long moment.
Jacob broke the silence. “Hannah, I think your father is right. We need to involve the police. Every second we waste might make it harder to find her. I don’t doubt some of them are involved in this thing, but what choice do we have? We can’t find her ourselves.”
Despite her initial misgivings, Hannah would feel a lot better knowing the police were looking for Ash.
“Thank you, Jacob.” Dad breathed. “Now we’re talking sense.”
“Before you call, there’s one more thing,” Hannah said.
Jacob flashed her a look, but she ignored it.
“We think Mama Bayole might have something to do with this.”
Hannah quickly filled in the parts of the story Jacob had left out, as well as what had really happened when she went to talk to the old woman. Dad was incredulous.
“You two... you don’t really believe it’s the same person? She’s an old lady, harmless...”
Jacob stood, rising like a mountain out of the chair. He straightened his shoulders and met Dad’s gaze.
“I have no doubt it’s the same woman and she is not just an old lady. You are free to believe what you want to believe, but I have seen her power firsthand. Whatever you do, don’t underestimate her, Brian.” His booming voice was that of a street corner preacher.
Dad shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “And what do you propose I tell the police? How can I tie Mrs. Bayole to any of this without sounding like a complete lunatic?”
Dad had a point, but Hannah’s heart swelled just knowing he was trying to believe her. All they really had was the blogger—nothing pointed to Mama Bayole except Jacob’s story and the weird incident Hannah had at her house. The police weren’t going to listen to either of those.
“The foot,” Hannah blurted.
Dad and Jacob stared at her, waiting.
“We show them where I found the foot. It’s close enough to Mama Bayole’s property that they’ll have to question her.”
Jacob and Dad exchanged a glance and they both shrugged. Dad reached for the phone.
“It’s as good a plan as any,” Jacob said. He didn’t sound very hopeful, and he was back to absently playing with the cross. Dad was speaking quietly into the phone, constantly running a hand through his hair. Hannah was biting her nails, something she hadn’t done since Mom disappeared.
“They’re sending an officer over now,” Dad said as he hung up the phone.
Hannah remembered she had Ashley’s cell and pulled it out, figuring the police would want it. She sat on the couch and clicked on photos, knowing most were probably of the two of them. Her eyes widened when she saw the first picture. Her thumb flew across the screen, scrolling through the next few.
“Dad. Jacob. You have to see this,” she breathed.
She brought the phone over and showed them the photos Ashley had taken that day at the library. Whether just to document the meeting or because she’d suspected something was wrong, Ashley had managed to get several pictures of the blogger. It was clear that he hadn’t known she was doing it based on the odd angles. Some only had a portion of his face in the frame but others were better. Good enough to give to the police.
He looked to be in his forties, longish brown hair, a few days of beard growth. Nothing remarkable.
Hannah had another idea. She clicked on Ashley’s email but there was nothing there. No unsent text messages either. Then she saw the icon for voice recordings.
She opened the app and there was a new recording from earlier in the day. She looked up at Dad and Jacob. Their faces each held a pain Hannah recognized. She felt the same raw ache in her heart. In the distance, the sound of approaching sirens.
Dad motioned with his hand. “Go ahead, Hannah. Play it. Before they get here.”
She pressed play.
Ashley: Listen, I’ve been thinking, maybe we should just call the police—
Male Voice: No. At least one of them is a cop. We go to the police and we might be the next bodies buried in the woods.
Ashley: What is your name? I—
Male Voice: No names. No names, I already told you that. You haven’t been paying attention at all, have you.
Ashley: I told you my name.
Male Voice: I’m done playing games with you.
Ashley: I’m leaving—
Male Voice: We have Hannah.
There was a long pause. Hannah thought the recording was over but saw on the timer display there was more. Finally, Ashley spoke.
Ashley: Bullshit.
Male Voice: We got her before she even got to town.
Ashley: What... what do you want?
Male Voice: We just need to know where you found the... foot... so we can dispose of it properly.
Ashley: That’s all?
Male Voice: That’s all. T
hat happened a long time ago. No need to dig up the past. Pardon the pun.
Ashley: You promise if I show you where the foot is you’ll let me go? You’ll let Hannah go?
Male Voice: Of course. You were just insurance for each other. Neither of you would have helped unless it was to save the other. Make no mistake—if you try anything funny, Hannah will be as gone as her mother.
Ashley: Okay, just don’t hurt us. If we go now, we can be at the spot in the woods by noon. Then Hannah and I can be back at her house by one, before her dad gets home and starts to worry.
They heard papers rustling and chairs scraping, then silence.
It took Hannah three tries to close the app her hand was trembling so badly.
“It’s almost one o’clock now,” she said. “They might still be out there.”
She jumped up and headed for the door just as a police car pulled up out front.
“Hannah, wait. We have to tell the police.” Dad’s voice was hoarse.
As her dad went to open the door and greet the officer, Hannah raced toward the back door with Scout at her heels.
Fueled by adrenaline and instinct, she gave no thought to whether Dad or the police would follow, or what the consequences might be if they didn’t. She was energy and willpower, running faster than she thought possible. She’d already passed the edge of the yard and was entering the woods when she heard the thwack of the screen door behind her. She barely registered Dad’s shouts.
Hannah darted into the trees, following a path she had forged over the years, veering around thickets and leaping over fallen logs, never slowing. The only sounds were those of her breathing, her pulse in her ears, and Scout scrambling to keep up.
She bounded up a small hill, almost slipping when she crested it and began running down the other side. She approached an outcrop of rocks, one of the countless formations that gave the state its nickname. Hannah finally stopped and leaned over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Scout plopped to the ground next to her, panting.
The forest was eerily quiet. The pine trees that surrounded her barely whispered in the occasional breeze. She moved around some rocks near a large pine tree and pushed aside a small pile of branches. The foot was gone.
Hannah scrambled around frantically, first making sure she was in the right spot, then looking for signs that an animal might have dragged it away.
A few minutes later, she heard approaching footsteps and Dad calling her name. It broke her heart how panicked his voice was. She yelled to him, signaling her location. He stumbled down the hill and knelt by her, grasping her in a fierce hug. A police officer followed a few seconds later as Hannah got to her feet.
“Just... what the heck... is the meaning of this?” The cop was red-faced, breathing hard. And he was not happy.
“Officer, I told you, Ashley Wallace is missing.” Dad replied.
The officer held up his hand, giving Dad a stern look. “Let’s slow down a minute, please. My name is Officer Benson. You’re Brian Green. Who are you, Miss?”
“Hannah Green,” she answered. All the fight was out of her, the adrenaline rush spent, and her spirit crushed at the significance of the foot being gone. They were too late. Ashley was gone, too.
Just like Mom.
“All right, Hannah. Your dad told me during our little jog through the woods that your friend has gone missing. We’re going to find her—that I promise you. You need to help me, okay?”
Something in the man’s earnest tone gave Hannah a spark of hope, and she looked up at him for the first time. He was about Dad’s age but bigger, like a football player. He removed his hat to reveal a military-style buzz cut. Mom had once told her the old saying “the eyes are the window to the soul” and Hannah believed it. This man’s eyes spoke of honor and conviction. She trusted him instantly and nodded in agreement.
“Atta girl. We’ll get to the beginning of the story eventually, but why don’t we start with the reason you think she’s out here?”
Hannah realized she’d left Ashley’s phone back at the house.
“It was on the recording. The man that took her made her show him where the foot was, but it’s gone.” She motioned to the pile of pine boughs when something caught her eye.
“What recording? Did you say a foot?” Benson said, looking from Hannah to Brian.
Hannah ignored him and went to the tree, bending down, unable to believe what she was looking at. She picked Ashley’s necklace off one of the branches and held it out to Officer Benson.
“I gave this to her for her eleventh birthday. She was here.” Hannah broke down, sobbing and falling into her father’s arms.
Dad held her, telling her it was going to be okay and that they would find Ashley.
“I think she’s at Mama Bayole’s, Officer Benson. We have to go there. Right now.”
She pulled away from Dad, swatted the tears from her face, and started back toward the path. Officer Benson stepped in her way.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Just a minute, Hannah. I’d said we’d find her but I’m not a mind-reader and you’re not making a lot of sense right now.”
Hannah’s eyes narrowed and her lips tightened. She watched a lot of crime shows—she knew how quickly the trail went cold in kidnapping cases.
“We might not have a minute.” She said more calmly than she felt. “We need to get to Mama Bayole’s. Are you coming?”
Hannah stared him down, satisfaction coursing through her when she saw the corners of his lips twitch in a near-smile. More important, his expression also held something that might have been respect. He stepped aside and waved his hand with a flourish that would have been comical in another situation.
“Lead the way.”
As they made their way back to the house, Hannah told Officer Benson the short version of everything that had taken place since Scout had dragged the foot out of the woods. He was trying to take notes while they walked. It wasn’t going well. She smiled inwardly thinking of the chicken scratch he would have to decipher later for his report.
They got to the house and were surprised to find Jacob gone. Hannah went to the living room to let Officer Benson listen to the recording but couldn’t find Ashley’s phone.
“Dad, did you or Jacob grab the phone?”
Hannah remembered dropping it on the couch after they’d listened to it. She quickly searched under the cushions and bent to look under the couch itself, but it was gone.
“Jacob must have taken it. I wonder why he left,” Dad said. He sounded casual but his face was tense. “Let’s go, we can figure it out later.”
“Okay, folks, let’s go visit Mrs. Bayole and I’ll call this in.” Officer Benson sounded more authoritative when he wasn’t gasping for breath.
They followed Benson out to his cruiser, and he opened the doors to let them in, Dad in front and Hannah in back. She had never been in a police car before, and she looked around in uneasy wonder. Benson got in the driver’s seat, flipped on the bubble lights and gunned the engine, peeling out in the direction of Mama Bayole’s farm.
They arrived at the farm moments later. Hannah’s stomach clenched just thinking about going back into that house.
I can do it for Ashley.
Benson and Dad climbed out and Hannah realized she couldn’t open the doors from the inside. Electric panic paralyzed her, and she didn’t breathe until Benson let her out. It was too much like being trapped, and she wondered if Ashley was feeling that way, wherever she was.
“Now listen, folks, you need to let me do the talking. We are not going to go in there and start throwing out accusations, are we clear?” Benson was fully in charge now.
Brian and Hannah nodded in unison and they started up the dusty driveway. Before they got to the porch, the screen door screeched open, and Mama Bayole stepped onto the porch.
The old witch, it’s like she was waiting for us.
Hannah’s chest tightened. She’d read about the Salem Witch Trials and how Giles Corey had been
pressed to death. More weight. The memory of almost walking zombie-like to that couch chilled her. She shook the thought away.
“Lookie here, now. Miss Hannah, Mr. Green, and Hopeland’s finest. Isn’t this a day!”
Her voice made Hannah’s jaw tighten. Fingernails on a blackboard, Mom would have said.
“Afternoon, Mrs. Bayole. Mind if we visit for a few minutes?”
Hannah noticed Officer Benson’s tone had changed dramatically. He was speaking with a down home inflection, no doubt trying to appeal to Mama Bayole’s simple lifestyle.
“Well, I was fixin’ to have tea and crumpets with the queen of England, but I reckon we can set a spell.” She cackled at her own wit, sending a ripple of anger through Hannah. The old woman was playing the same game as Benson, only her part was the helpless old redneck lady.
She waved the trio up to the porch and hobbled over to one of the rocking chairs. Hannah watched as Dad and Benson walked up the rickety stairs, expecting them to fall through to who-knows-where. Hannah followed, the memory of her last visit still heavy on her mind. After talking with Jacob, she knew the old woman was someone to fear.
When they were all seated, Mama Bayole smiled at Officer Benson. “Well, you’re not here for my moonshine recipe, so am I under arrest?”
The old woman’s gaze shifted to Hannah and they locked eyes. Mama Bayole’s look was somehow penetrating and empty at the same time.
She has no soul.
The thought came unbidden, jarring Hannah. Still, she refused to lower her eyes.
Benson offered a friendly smile. “We’re looking for a girl, Ashley Wallace. She’s staying with the Greens while her folks are away, and we seem to have misplaced her.”
“Lordy,” Mama Bayole cackled, “why would some little white girl come over to old Mama Bayole?”
“Nobody said she was white,” Hannah said quickly, harshly. “I’m white, and I came over the other day, remember?”
