by Lisa Harris
“They had alibis when your sister went missing.”
Alibis could be fabricated, couldn’t they?
“I know what you’re thinking, but don’t. Eugene didn’t snatch Hallie. And Wilson—”
“He was at the press conference this morning. I saw him. You said it yourself—people like to see the result of their evil.”
“Should I suspect everyone who showed up today? You were there. Did you do it?”
At James’s glare Vince’s hands lifted. “Just saying…” He dropped his hands, sipped his beer.
“What do you make of the killer coming back?” James asked. “Ten years later, and all of a sudden, he’s back at it.”
“Good question. We’re in contact with the FBI, but they can’t connect these crimes to any others in the country. They’re also coordinating with authorities in Canada, just in case. For whatever reason, it seems this person kidnapped your sister, then took a ten-year break, and then started again.”
James ate the last potato skin on his plate, slathering on a good bit of sour cream. It wouldn’t be enough food to last until morning.
“Anything else?” James asked. “Any other rumors? Any Cassidy sightings?”
There’d been enough after the disappearance of the little girl, Addison, a month prior. Maybe the mention of it wouldn’t raise any red flags.
“Couple.” Vince waved hello to someone behind James, but James didn’t turn to see who it was. “About as credible as last month. People seem to forget that she’d have aged in the last decade. Why do you ask?”
“What if it wasn’t Cassidy back then? What if it’s not her now? Everyone’s so intent on finding her, but—”
“We’re looking at all the options.”
“What other options? Have you had any leads?”
Vince stared at the mirror behind the bar, but his gaze flicked here and there. Studying the people around them. He was good at seeing more than everyone else did. James figured it was what made him such a good detective.
“You know I can’t talk about the investigation.”
“Search party going back tomorrow?”
“For all the good it’ll do. Reid insists we keep looking. He’s sure she’s on Coventry.”
Addison had been snatched from a neighborhood in town, but her body had been found on the back porch of a house near the edge of the lake at the base of Mt. Coventry.
Ella had been snatched from Reid’s parents’ house. They lived in town, also nearer to Mt. Coventry. Not that there was any reason to believe she was on the mountain, but search parties had been sent onto Coventry for days in hopes of catching a scent.
“What if the killer left Addison’s body by Coventry to throw everybody off?” James asked. “What if Ella is somewhere else? Like… on Mt. Ayasha.”
There was a long pause. James looked at the mirror behind the bar and saw Vince was staring at him now.
“Interesting theory.”
Ernie delivered another plate of potato skins, and James snagged one.
Slowly, Vince turned his way. “You come up with that theory all by yourself?”
“Back then”—they both knew when back then was—“everyone believed Hallie and Cassidy had been on Ayasha.”
“So you figure it’s a good place to start?”
He shrugged. “What have you got to lose?”
Vince said nothing.
He was wasting his time trying to get information from Vince. “After… everything, you assured me you knew Cassidy was alive. Nobody suspected that she, too, had been murdered.”
“Except you.”
“How could you have been so sure?”
Vince lifted his beer, set it back down. When he faced James again, there was a grim set to his lips. “I didn’t want you to grieve her.”
“I know.”
“I can tell you I knew she was alive. Beyond that, I can’t talk about it.”
“What? It’s top secret? It’s been a decade, Vince. A decade later, everybody thinks my high school girlfriend murdered my sister. It’s time for you to tell me how you were so sure she was alive. And why you were so sure she did it.”
Vince finished the beer. Set it on the bar and waved at Ernie. Ernie delivered another, and Vince glared at him until he walked out of earshot. Ernie was known for eavesdropping—and sharing what he heard.
Only after Vince took a swallow did he turn to James.
James held his breath.
“It’s still an ongoing investigation. You got a problem with that? Take it up with the chief.” Vince leaned in, so close James inhaled the scent of beer on his breath. His gaze was steely. “Why do you want to know now? Tonight?”
James faced forward, going for casual despite Vince’s thinly veiled intimidation. “Just trying to piece it together.”
Vince had gone from cop to friend somewhere in the last decade, but, studying him in the mirror, James saw only a detective, a detective on the trail of a killer.
This had been a mistake, but he was too deep now to swim his way out.
“You get any closer,” James said, “people are going to talk. Wouldn’t want Lorelei getting jealous.”
Vince backed away, faced forward. “I know what you’re thinking.” Vince’s tone was as relaxed as James’s demeanor. Neither of them was fooled. “Should I trust him? I mean, yeah, we’re friends. But I’m also a cop, a cop who thinks your ex-girlfriend is a killer. You have information, but you’re afraid to tell me because telling me means you’ll have to reveal where the information came from. Maybe it’s nothing to worry about. Maybe it is. Maybe you don’t even know. I can tell you this, James. You don’t tell me, and your friend’s kid dies…” He lifted his bottle, sipped, and set it down gently. “Trust me. That’s the kind of pain you never get over.”
James didn’t want to consider that.
This was a dangerous game.
The only way forward was to be honest. Or at least, nearly honest. “I talked to Cassidy.”
Vince’s expression didn’t shift, didn’t register surprise or any of the thoughts James guessed were going through his head. Maybe that was another thing that made him such a good detective.
James should’ve kept his mouth shut.
“Talk to her, did you?”
“She said she told the police years ago what happened. Said she and Hallie were taken higher up.” He faced Vince again. “On Mt. Ayasha.”
Vince cast his glance around the bar.
People were talking, laughing. Nobody was paying them any attention.
“What else?” Vince asked.
“She wanted to know if you were searching the mountain, and I told her I didn’t think so. She seemed convinced Ella was on Ayasha.”
“She tell you about a cave?”
“She said she and Hallie were kept there for days.”
“She tell you how Hallie died?”
“Conversation didn’t go that direction.”
“Interesting.”
Vince ate another potato skin, taking his time with it.
“What?” James asked.
“I’ve lived on Ayasha all my life. So have you. You ever seen any caves up there?”
“No, but—”
“There are no caves. There’s no place like what she described.”
“You’re sure? So sure, so… arrogant… that you know every nook and cranny of that mountain that you won’t even look?”
Vince’s glare had James leaning back. “I have looked.” His voice was low, almost menacing. He turned forward again, but not before James caught the shift in his expression, from anger to… something else. “I never wanted to get your hopes up. And I never wanted you up there looking. If there was a murderer on that mountain… The last thing your family needed was to bury another kid.” Vince ate the last potato skin, then pushed the plate away. “So, after the chief called off the search, I kept at it. I bought rock climbing gear. Bought a satellite phone so I’d be able to go for long stretches a
nd not be out of touch. I’ve been looking ever since that first call. Ten years, I’ve searched that mountain. There. Are. No. Caves.”
“Why would she say that then?”
“Maybe she was on a different mountain. Maybe she was confused. Maybe she made the whole thing up.”
“Why would she do that?”
“There’s only one way to get the answers you want. You gotta tell her to come in. Tell her to come in, and we’ll listen to everything she says. Maybe, if we could question her, get more information, maybe we could figure out where she really went that night. Maybe we could find Ella.”
“Is that what you think will happen? She’ll lead you to the kidnapper?”
“It’s the only option.”
“You still think she is the kidnapper.”
Vince said nothing, which told him everything he needed to know.
Cassidy was their only suspect. Vince didn’t want to say that to James—nobody did. Because they pitied him or distrusted him or both.
As long as Vince and the rest of the police department were focused on Cassidy, the real kidnapper, the real killer, could operate freely.
James slipped his billfold from his back pocket, dropped a twenty and a five on the bar, and stood. “Cassidy didn’t do it.”
Vince watched him in the mirror. “What if you’re wrong?”
“What if you are?”
“Tell me where she is, James.”
“I have no idea.” At least that was true. He headed for the door.
James managed to make it all the way to his car without meeting anybody’s eyes. Maybe it wasn’t a feat, though. Maybe they were avoiding his gaze as much as he was theirs. This town that stuck together, that hated outsiders. This town that never gave Cassidy a chance.
He drove the narrow back roads toward Lake Ayasha and home, wrestling with his choices. When he was surrounded by people who accused her, James was sure she was innocent. But looking into her eyes, he questioned it. Questioned her.
The people of this town, even the police, were all so certain. If it wasn’t her, their certainty would keep them from looking for the real killer. Their certainty was jading them.
If James turned her in, they’d treat her like a suspect, question her, try to get the truth out of her. Would she be able to convince them she was innocent soon enough to get them to look where she claimed the kidnapper had taken her and Hallie before?
What if she couldn’t? What would become of Ella? What would become of Reid?
He’d watched his mother wither after Hallie’s death. Dad had kept their family together, kept Mom alive, by the strength of his will and his faith. Maybe he could have kept it up longer, but, thanks to the cancer, they’d never know.
After Dad died, Mom had been inconsolable. She faded away long before the heart attack claimed her.
James wouldn’t let Reid suffer the same fate. He couldn’t.
So what were his choices? He already knew he wasn’t going to turn Cassidy in, but he could let her search alone.
Except that somebody’d been following her. Somebody who hadn’t turned her in. Had it been random, some creepy guy who’d seen a pretty girl?
Or had her pursuer recognized her? Had it been the killer?
James couldn’t let her go back on the mountain alone.
If he turned her in, at least she’d be safe.
James hadn’t prayed a lot in recent years. Hadn’t had much reason to. Everything he’d wanted had been denied him. He no longer cared about anything enough to pray about it.
But he needed wisdom. Direction.
What should I do?
Can I trust her, Lord?
The answer felt obvious. He would try to figure out where those caves were, then go with Cassidy and learn what he could. If he decided she wasn’t telling the truth, he could always turn her in later. And maybe, maybe they’d be able to find the place she was looking for.
Maybe he’d learn the truth about his sister’s death. Maybe, finally, he could have some peace.
But this wasn’t about him or his losses. It wasn’t about Cassidy and her story. This was about Ella.
If James could rescue his best friend’s daughter, if he could protect Reid from the pain his parents had endured, it would be worth it.
Chapter Six
The man was gone. He’d come late the night before, long after the world beyond the cave walls had grown dark. Ella had been listening to the night sounds, which seemed louder and scarier when she was alone with the crickets. She didn’t want the man to be there, but she didn’t like being alone, either. Especially at night. When he’d come in, she pretended to be asleep, and he curled up against her, slinging his arm over her, and released a sigh as if the world were a happy place.
She didn’t remember anything after that.
Ella turned over and peeked at the entrance. It was light outside. Today would be the day. Today, she’d get to go home. Please, God.
She didn’t see the man, but probably he just went to pee.
She scrambled to her bucket and did the same, hurrying and hoping he wouldn’t come in. She wanted to be quiet, but the chain connected to the strap around her ankle clattered when she moved. Had he heard her?
When she finished, she dug in the cooler and took out a juice box. It took her two tries to get the skinny straw through the little hole, but she finally did it and sucked some of the strawberry drink.
A shadow fell over her. She didn’t have to look to know he’d stepped into the entrance. “You’re thirsty this morning, little sister.”
“I am not your sister.”
He ignored her. “Remember when Mommy used to make us Kool-Aid? Your favorite was red, but I liked orange better. Since Mommy loved you best, we always had red.”
Ella didn’t know what he was talking about. Her mommy hadn’t ever made her Kool-Aid. She lived in a big house in California and starred in movies. When Ella went to visit, the only thing she’d had to drink besides water and juice was yucky stuff called Lacroix, which was bubbly like soda but tasted icky.
“In the summertime,” the man continued, “we would put the Kool-Aid in ice trays and make popsicles. We’ll do that again when we have a freezer, okay?”
That did sound sort of good, except not with him.
He ruffled her hair, and she scrunched up her shoulders, too afraid to pull away.
She pretended he wasn’t there. Maybe if she ignored him, he’d go away. Like Clara at school, who used to stick out her tongue at Ella and call her “Ugly Ella,” even though Ella wasn’t ugly. She was pretty—everybody said so. Grammy and Gramps and Nana and Papa all thought so. Uncle James said she was so pretty she was gonna be a heartbreaker someday, whatever that meant. And Daddy said she was the prettiest girl in the whole school and that stupid Clara was only jealous. Except Daddy didn’t say stupid. And Daddy said that, if Ella ignored Clara, she’d stop being a meanie, and it had worked. Clara left her alone. So maybe if Ella ignored the man, he’d go away too. Or take her to Daddy.
He took a drink from the cooler—a little bottle of orange juice. “I’m glad you slept well. Sleeping beside you again… It reminds me of when we used to hide from Mommy when she got angry. You remember?” He didn’t wait for her answer, which was good, ’cause she didn’t know what to say. “You were so little then. I’d read you stories. When Mommy would come to the door, we’d both pretend to sleep.”
Daddy read her stories. This man had never read her stories before, and she didn’t want him to now.
I wanna go home.
He tapped her nose. “You used to be such a chatterbox. That guy ruined you, but I’ll find the real Maryann in there again. We’ll get you back to normal.”
My name is Ella.
“Look at me.”
She gave him her angriest look, even though she probably shouldn’t have. “I’m not your sister, and my name isn’t Maryann. My name is Ella, and I am precious.” She slapped her hand over her mouth. What was wrong
with her? But the words were in her mouth, and they had to come out, because this man, this terrible man, had stolen her away. “I want my daddy!” Her scream bounced off the walls of the cave and hurt her head.
She dropped the juice box and covered her ears and closed her eyes. Please, God. I wanna go home. I want my daddy. Please, please.
The man lifted her and set her in his lap like Daddy did when she scraped her knee or was sad because stupid Clara was mean to her. But this wasn’t her daddy, and she didn’t want him. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her too tight. She squirmed, but he only hugged harder. “I know you’re scared, Maryann. And I know you miss the man you thought was your daddy. But he isn’t your daddy, and he doesn’t want you anymore. He never loved you. You belong with me. I’m your real family.”
“Liar, liar, liar, liar, liar.” She mumbled the words, afraid for the man to hear. But they felt squishy in her mouth, like cooked zucchini that she had to spit out or she’d get sick. So she said it again, just in case. “Liar.”
He pinched her shoulders in his giant hands and pushed her back so he could look in her face. He got real close to her until their noses were almost touching. Almost close enough to kiss. Even though he had that mask on, which covered everything but his pale lips and his ugly brown eyes, she was scared he was gonna try it. She pressed her mouth closed real tight and shut her eyes and scrunched up her face and prayed he wouldn’t.
“I know you’re scared. I know this isn’t the most comfortable place to be. But things are going to get better for you and me. We’re going to live where it’s warm and there are palm trees and fresh coconuts, just like I always promised. You love coconut.”
She hated coconut.
“We’re gonna walk to the beach every single day, and I’ll teach you how to swim.”
She already knew how to swim. Daddy had taught her. Because he loved her and wanted her to be safe in the water. Because she was more precious than all the jewels in the whole wide world.
“The waves will be big and warm,” the man said, “and we’ll body surf and build sand castles, just like we read about. It’s going to be perfect. And I’m going to take care of you forever and ever. I promise.”
