by Roger Hayden
Ana looked from parent to parent, confused. “So does this mean you guys are getting back together?”
Freddy smiled and shook his head. “No, honey. That’s not it.”
“Why not? If you’re going to stay here a week, you might as well just move in.”
Both parents looked at each other, then back to Ana.
“That’s not happening,” Miriam said, patting her head. “I have a job to do, and I’m leaving tonight.”
In the past, Ana had heard them fighting. She had seen her father drink and drink. She had seen him sitting around the house all day while her mom worked. She had seen him go to jail for driving after drinking. She saw a lot. But the scene before her at that moment was perhaps the most surreal of all.
“Can’t I just go with you?” she blurted out, noticing a disappointed expression cross her father’s worn face.
“No,” Miriam said. “You’re going to school. Nothing changes. Your father is going to watch you, and that’s that.”
Ana looked around, thinking of some way to keep her mom from leaving. “What about my spelling bee on Thursday?”
Miriam nodded with a look of regret. “Your dad can record it for me.”
Freddy took Ana’s hand and squeezed. “It’ll be okay. Don’t you want to see me?”
Ana shrugged. “I guess.”
“Ana, that’s enough,” Miriam said, startling her. “Now go take your things to your room and let us talk this out.”
“Whatever,” she said, without making eye contact with either parent. She grabbed her backpack and left the kitchen, walking toward the hall where her room was. She flipped her light switch on and closed the door. A week with her father. She supposed that things could be worse.
***
Silence fell over the kitchen after Ana left. Freddy looked to Miriam. “Spunky for her age, isn’t she?”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Miriam said, walking back to the counter. Plates clanked together as she rinsed them, opened the dishwasher, and placed them inside.
Freddy didn’t seem bothered by Ana’s objections to his watching her. “I’m just glad I get to spend some time with her.”
Miriam closed the dishwasher and began to wipe the countertops with a sponge. She was thankful for Freddy coming all the way to their house on short notice and agreeing to watch Ana. She couldn’t believe he had actually agreed to it. She wanted to think that he had changed and that he and Ana would have a great time. Part of her, however, remained skeptical.
“And there’ll be no drinking during the week, correct?” she asked him.
Freddy pushed his chair back defensively, scraping against the vinyl floor. “Jesus, Miriam. How many fucking times do we have to go over this?”
“Language, please,” she said.
“I told you that I’m sober. I have a decent job. Everything is working out now.”
“I know, Freddy. But we’ve had this conversation many times—”
“I didn’t come over here to go on about the past. I came here to help with Ana. And you…”
“I appreciate that,” Miriam said, opening the fridge and placing various containers inside. She closed the fridge door and lifted her head, listening to the muffled pop music playing in Ana’s room. “I should go talk to her,” she said, walking out of the kitchen.
Suddenly, Freddy’s hand reached out and clasped her wrist, right below her bracelet. She froze in place and looked down, shocked that he would even have the nerve to touch her.
His eyes were serious, and his face was stricken with concern. “You still haven’t told me where you’re going.”
She yanked her hand away but remained in place. “I told you. It’s police business.”
“So you’re doing pro bono work now?”
“The person who killed my partner just kidnapped another girl. Do you get it now?” Miriam’s gray eyes were wide with anger.
Freddy nodded, and a hint of sadness crossed his face. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said.
“I don’t want to see you get your hopes up for nothing.”
“Just focus on Ana,” Miriam said. “That’s all you need to worry about.”
Freddy said nothing more, but his eyes remained fastened on her. Miriam walked away, but in the living room, she stopped and turned around again, feeling his stare.
“What?” she asked, annoyed.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“That’s none of your business. We’re divorced, understand? As in, not going to happen again.”
Freddy rose from his chair and walked over to her with slow, confident strides. “All I’m saying is that you should loosen up a little.”
He took her soft hands in both of his, not taking his eyes away from her thinly sculpted face, her red lips and dark brows. She removed her hands from his and put them at her sides. He leaned forward to kiss her, and she didn’t pull away. Instead, their lips pressed together as he reached down and squeezed her hands.
He then moved his hand up her back, pressing her closer as she closed her eyes. For a moment, her stress dissipated, replaced by feelings of familiarity and comfort. She didn’t see the harm in going further. Apparently, neither did Freddy.
Suddenly a car honked in the driveway. She pushed Freddy away and went to the window to look out. O’Leary had arrived. As if it were preplanned, the news coming from the living room television sounded more urgent suddenly.
“Authorities have placed a high alert around Lee County following the kidnapping of Emily Beckett, who was abducted from a Safeway parking lot today after a brutal assault on her mother. Investigators fear that the young girl’s abduction is just the latest in the long line of child kidnappings that have plagued the area for the past five years. The suspect, known to residents as the Snatcher, is also a suspect in the shooting death of thirty-two-year-old sheriff’s deputy Joseph Lang during a routine traffic stop a year ago.”
Miriam went to the living room and stood in front of the television. Familiar images of the school parking lot and Lang’s crime scene filled the screen, together with pictures of both victims. Miriam’s heart seized as they showed her partner’s portrait. Her knees felt weak as she leaned against the wall.
The newscaster continued, “The suspect in both cases has been linked to at least four other child abductions, each within one year of each other. Parents around the community are urged to keep a careful eye on their children, not leaving them anywhere alone. Neighborhoods have also imposed curfews for children twelve and under while the search for the so-called Snatcher continues.”
Outside, O’Leary tapped the horn again. “My ride is here,” Miriam said, picking up a packed bag sitting near the foyer.
Freddy folded his arms as though everything was kosher. “Why don’t you invite this detective in and let me meet him?”
Miriam looked up and sighed. “Freddy. Just stop.”
Freddy held his hands out defensively with a laugh. “Stop what?”
“I have to do this. Don’t you understand that? ”
“Of course I do,” he said defensively.
Freddy lowered his hand to touch hers. “When we were married, I always worried about you. You don’t understand that, being on the other side, but it never changes. Whether we’re married or not, it never changes.”
Miriam opened her mouth to speak when suddenly Ana entered the room in her pajamas. “What are you guys going on about?”
“Nothing,” they said in unison.
O’Leary’s car idled in the driveway. Miriam’s phone buzzed again. She looked at the screen. “My ride is waiting.”
She grabbed her purse. Freddy followed and took her bag. “Here, lemme get that.”
Ana followed her parents out the door.
“You have everything you need?” Freddy asked.
Miriam walked outside and stopped, turning toward the two of them. “I should. Thanks.”
I
dling behind Miriam’s car was a gray four-door Ford Crown Victoria. O’Leary was at the wheel and rolled the window down. “Good evening,” he said with a wave.
Freddy’s two-door black pickup was parked next to Miriam’s. They walked past it as O’Leary unlocked his trunk from the inside. They heard it click open, and Freddy placed Miriam’s bag inside and closed it. He introduced himself to O’Leary as Miriam gave Ana a hug, squeezing her tight.
“You be good for your father, and I’ll see you in a week.”
Ana nodded, seeming upset and despondent. “Where are you going? I want to go too.”
Miriam placed her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “I wish you could, but you can’t. It’s important police work.”
“Does that mean you’re going to be a policewoman again?”
She hugged Ana again as Freddy waited patiently, standing nearby. “No, honey. This is just temporary. But I’ll be home soon. Promise to do well in school while I’m gone.”
“I will.”
“I know you’ll do great on the spelling bee.” She then kissed Ana on the forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Ana said, eyes down.
Miriam straightened up, patted Ana on the head, and then turned her attention to Freddy. Static chatter played out on O’Leary’s police radio. Miriam gave Freddy a trusting and appreciative look. “Thank you for doing this. Especially on short notice.”
Freddy shrugged. “Hey, what are ex-husbands for?” They both smiled.
Miriam pointed at him. “Don’t let her out of your sight. You hear me?”
Freddy put his hand over his chest. “I won’t. I promise.”
Miriam gave him a quick hug and thanked him again. She said goodbye one last time to Ana and then went around to the other side of O’Leary’s car, with Freddy following behind her. He opened the car door and closed it gently after she was inside. Ana stood next to him, and he put his arm around her shoulder as they walked back toward the house.
“You ready to do this?” O’Leary asked as Miriam put her seat belt on.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Miriam said.
O’Leary shifted into reverse. Miriam waved to Ana and Freddy, who had turned to watch as O’Leary backed out of the driveway.
“See you in a week!” she said.
“Bye, Mom!”
The Crown Victoria roared off down the street, leaving Miriam’s house, daughter, and ex-husband in the distance. She still wasn’t sure exactly what she was doing, but whatever it was, it felt like the right thing. If there was any hope of finding the Snatcher before the next girl was taken, she wanted to be a part of it.
Investigation
O’Leary merged onto the highway, headed south toward Palm Dale. Miriam hadn’t gone anywhere near the town since moving away. There were many unanswered questions to discuss between them. Oddly enough, however, the conversation didn’t begin with the case.
“So you and Freddy?” O’Leary began.
Miriam turned to him. It was a harmless question, but she still felt imposed upon. “Me and Freddy what?”
O’Leary shifted in his seat. “Didn’t mean to get personal. I was just curious.”
“That’s okay,” Miriam said. “He’s going to watch Ana while I’m gone.”
“That’s good,” O’Leary said, ending it there. “So where do you want to start?” he asked.
“We need to get an idea of who we’re looking for,” Miriam said. “Any witnesses or descriptions they could put an APB out on?”
“Nothing yet,” O’Leary said.
Miriam looked at him cockeyed and in disbelief. “What do you mean, nothing yet? This man punched a mother in the face—”
O’Leary cut her off. “In broad daylight, I know. I went over this with Lou. And the mother says she was hit by a woman, not a man.”
“A woman?” Miriam repeated, shocked. Though it would make sense. She, herself, could remember the long blond hair of the driver who’d shot her partner in cold blood. The image was seared into her brain and would never fade. But a woman kidnapping children was nearly unheard of. Certainly in Palm Dale.
“I’m not buying it either. Doesn’t fit the profile,” O’Leary said.
“He’s wearing a disguise,” Miriam ventured. “A wig, probably.”
O’Leary’s eyes went back to the road as Miriam thought to herself. She tugged at the sleeve of her jean jacket and adjusted her ponytail. The white-striped road raced by as they continued on rural I-75, thirty-five miles from Palm Dale and closing in.
O’Leary pulled on his tie, trying to loosen the collar of his button-down shirt. It felt as though he had been wearing the same standard shirt and suit for the past decade. The thought came to him that he should have been promoted by now. But that was the least of his concerns. They had a girl to find. One to two days max. Any longer than that, and he was certain that she’d become the next cold case in a long line of them.
He had placed a briefcase containing some of the case files on the passenger-side floor, and Miriam began flipping through them. She pulled out the one marked “criminal profile.” She had her own ideas but looked through the faded manila folder with interest nonetheless.
The suspect was presumed to be living in the area, or at least within South Florida. He had staked his claim, and he would keep plundering it again and again until he was stopped.
For their suspect, abducting young girls was an obsession, something he did to appease a sick urge he was unable to suppress. But without recovering a single body, investigators could only presume that sexual assault was central in all the abductions. Whether he killed his victims or locked them in a basement remained to be seen.
She closed the first file and opened another one, filled with police reports of abductions from Cape Coral, Harlem Heights, Cypress Lake, and McGregor—all cities within the same county. Now Palm Dale had two abductions on its plate.
“We have to consider that these girls mean everything to him,” O’Leary said. “He shot your partner to keep from getting caught. So he has something to lose. A family maybe, or a job. Those are the lengths he’ll go to. And anyone who can pull the trigger like he did has probably killed before.”
“A complete psychopath,” Miriam added. “But he’s smart enough to know how to hide it. He’s not greedy.”
O’Leary nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. He’s got impeccable restraint. But he’s never going to stop.” He paused and looked at Miriam. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” she answered with a sigh. “I’ve spent so long blocking him from my mind, it’s hard to get back into this.” She turned to look out the window, thinking, as miles of darkened cow fields passed by. “Maybe I jumped into this too early.”
“Nonsense,” O’Leary said. “It’ll all come back to you soon. I know you have it in you.”
“I appreciate the confidence, but we don’t have the time for things to start coming back to me. I need to get it together fast.” She went to the files on her lap as the police radio crackled with updates on the child abduction case.
“Amber Alert issued approximately one hour ago. Suspect is described by the victim’s mother as a large female, at least two hundred and thirty pounds, with a beehive hairdo and bright polka-dot dress.”
Miriam and O’Leary looked at each other with skepticism.
“Seriously?” Miriam said.
“Stranger things have happened,” O’Leary said.
They passed flatlands of never-ending rivers and marshes—and a sign reading twenty-four miles to Palm Dale—a town Miriam had vowed never to return to. Now they were looking for an obese woman from the 1950s. It didn’t make any sense, but then again it made perfect sense—in line with Miriam’s belief that their suspect wore disguises.
“What better way to gain the trust of young girls if you’re dressed up as a woman?” she said.
O’Leary nodded. “What, like a cross-dresser?”
“Whatever you want t
o call it. Our suspect is a man. That’s what you need to tell your guys. He’s good at what he does and feels empowered with each new victim.”
O’Leary cleared his throat. “Off topic, I wanted to let you know that you will be compensated for this as an outside adviser, in case you were wondering.”
“With or without pay, my intentions are the same,” Miriam said.
“But you’ll take the money, though, right?”
“I’m not stupid,” Miriam said.
O’Leary laughed. “Of course you’re not.”
They passed fields of orange groves leading into the town. Miriam took a deep breath as the speed limit fell, the buildings were set closer together, and they came into town. It looked the same as Miriam remembered it. The historic downtown area had its shops, bars, and restaurants—quaint and old fashioned with brick buildings, old signs, and narrow roads with cars parked on the side of the street.
O’Leary pushed a button, rolled down both passenger and driver windows, and leaned his arm out as the cool air flowed inside the car. Beyond the business district, residential neighborhoods had grown by the dozens over the years. Initially a retirement community, Palm Dale had grown into suburban sprawl with modestly priced housing for families that had come from all over. There were schools, a library, lakes, parks, and hiking trails. That was the Palm Dale most people in the area knew. But to venture beyond the suburbs was a different world all together among the wilderness and wide-ranging marshes.
It was late in the evening when they pulled into the Safeway lot. An entire row of spaces had been cordoned off. There were police cars everywhere, their lights still flashing. A news van was parked off to the side. A female reporter stood in front of the Safeway with the bright lights of the camera on her face as she spoke into her microphone.
O’Leary parked near a line of police tape and turned off the ignition. Miriam looked at the police officers standing around—twenty or so of them—trying to see if she recognized anyone. She felt immediately out of place.
