by T. R. Ragan
She would do the right thing.
She would wait patiently for him and his men to arrive.
She would not give up her one chance to get this right. Not after all these years of dreaming of this day. Curiosity did win the day fifteen minutes later, though, when she got out of the car, leaving the door ajar while she crossed the street and peered down through the tall trees.
Her heart skipped a beat when she spotted the side of a tiny log cabin. It couldn’t be more than nine hundred square feet. It was impossible to see much else. The thick layers of leaves and debris felt like a giant sponge beneath her as she made her way back to the car. She slipped in behind the steering wheel, sank low in her seat, and adjusted the side mirror so she would be able to see if anyone came or went.
“Are you there, Tinsley?” she asked aloud. “Do you remember me?” Her body tensed at the thought her daughter might not recognize her. She’d been five, almost six, when she was taken. For close to six years Dani had spent every waking moment with her daughter. Of course Tinsley would remember her.
The next forty-eight minutes felt like eternity. She straightened in her seat the moment she saw Detective Whitton’s unmarked sedan appear in her side mirror. She jumped out and waved both arms before jogging to his open window to tell him she’d been waiting.
He nodded. “Wait in your car until we’ve had a chance to see if anyone’s home.”
She had never seen the man look so grim-faced and stern. She moved out of the way, watched his car disappear down the driveway followed by two police cruisers. As she walked back to her car, she heard the sounds of tires spitting up debris.
Dani shifted in her seat. Waiting was difficult, but the unknowing was much worse. She could be wrong about Hattie Goodwin. A zillion scenarios ran through her head. Doubt clouded her mind until she no longer knew what to think. If she closed her eyes it felt as if she were spiraling into that same deep, dark hole that was always there, its crooked finger gesturing for her to come take a closer look.
Loud knocking was followed by silence. A moment later she heard, “This is the police. Come out with your hands up.”
The officer’s voice was amplified through a megaphone.
What was going on? Could they see through a window? Was Hattie inside but not answering the door? So many questions. Too many questions.
The pull to run down the driveway was strong.
Unable to sit there doing nothing, knowing her daughter could be inside that cabin, she climbed out of the car, shutting the door quietly before crossing the street. She could see the side of the cabin, but not the front. She had no idea if Detective Whitton had managed to find his way inside, but she was going in.
Her mind made up, she stepped off the road and onto the sloped hillside. The earth was dark and damp, covered with pine needles and curled brown leaves.
The hill was steeper than it looked and before she knew it she was half running, half sliding downward until she reached out to grasp the trunk of a tree to stop herself from rolling to the ground.
Seconds ticked by as she caught her breath.
She could finally hear voices, but couldn’t tell if they were coming from inside the cabin or the area at the front. With a good fifty feet to go before reaching the cabin, she let go of the tree and made a diagonal path down the bank, like a giant Z, to the right and then to the left. When she stopped for a second time, with less than twenty feet to go, a loud rustling of leaves stopped her cold.
She angled her head and listened closely, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. It was much too loud to be a squirrel. Walking into the trees had been like walking into nightfall, the branches making a canopy overhead, blocking the dawn light.
When the sounds of footfalls trudging through thick leaves grew closer, she held still, didn’t move a muscle. Was it Hattie Goodwin? Had she escaped unseen? Was she making a run for it?
A flash of white fabric caught her eye as a hooded figure swept past her, weaving through the tall pines. Dani’s mind raced, her heart pounding against her chest as she followed the person.
If there weren’t so many trees, she might be able to better see who she was following. Keeping her gaze pinned on the white cloth, afraid of losing sight of the person, she took off, tripping over a fallen branch. She cursed under her breath, pushed herself to her feet, and continued on.
It wasn’t until she reached level ground where a narrow dirt path began that she lost sight of the person. Her gaze followed the path as far as she could see. There was no way the person in white had followed the trail. If they had, she would be able to see them. Refusing to give up, she followed the path, walking slowly and trying to be stealthy as she listened.
There it was—the soft crackle of a branch snapping in two—only three feet away. She looked that way. A wisp of white peeked out from behind one of the thicker majestic pines. From the ground to the top of the head, she calculated the person to be about four foot five. It was a child.
Dani’s insides vibrated.
Could it be her?
“Please don’t run. My name is Dani Callahan, and I’m looking for my daughter, Tinsley Callahan, who was taken from me five years ago. I don’t mean any harm,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “I just want—”
The child stepped out from behind the tree. A long, straw-colored braid hung down over her shoulder. Their eyes met and Dani held back a sob.
It was Tinsley.
Her small nose and mossy-green eyes were the same.
It was her daughter.
For five years she’d dreamed of this moment. Her knees wobbled, threatening to give out.
There was caution in Tinsley’s expression and curiosity in her eyes as she looked Dani over before meeting her gaze once more. “Is it really you?”
It took all her strength not to run to her and wrap her arms around her child. Instead, she nodded and said, “It’s me.”
Visibly shaking, Tinsley took a tentative step forward. “I thought you were dead?”
Dani shook her head. “I’ve been looking for you since the day you went missing.”
Tinsley broke out into a run toward her, and Dani opened her arms. The warmth of her daughter’s body enveloped in her arms was sweeter than she’d imagined. She held her daughter close, breathing her in as tears of happiness and wonder rolled down Dani’s cheeks.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Dani had always been a take-charge kind of person, able to make decisions easily and with confidence. But suddenly she was at a loss . . . unsure of what to say to Tinsley. Their journey began on the ride to the hospital, where paramedics took her blood pressure and asked Tinsley a few basic questions: Are you hurt? When was the last time you ate and drank water?
Detective Whitton had made sure someone drove her car back for her, and a uniformed officer handed her the keys and told her where she could find her car when they were done.
Dani stayed at Tinsley’s side every step of the way, trying not to hover but finding it difficult not to stick to her like glue, unable to take her eyes off her daughter while the doctor did blood work and a body wellness check on Tinsley. No malnutrition. No dehydration. No physical signs of abuse. All good news, and yet it was the mental abuse that worried Dani most.
After the checkup Dani and Tinsley were taken to a room with colorful walls, beanbag chairs, and bins filled with toys for children much younger than Tinsley. Dani and Tinsley sat side by side on a comfortable couch while a counselor, a woman who sat across from them, explained how life would never go back to how it was before the abduction, or even how it was last week or last month. The days following would be their new normal. It would take time to heal, but they needed to be patient with each other.
The worst part for Dani was that she didn’t want to fail her daughter. She felt stiff and awkward, unsure of what to say or how to say it. It was bad enough that she’d missed five years of Tinsley’s life, five years she would never get back, but how could she
help her heal?
Outwardly, Tinsley appeared to be handling everything so well, but Dani knew that might be wishful thinking on her part. It was late by the time they were driving home. Dani went through a drive-through and they got Whoppers, fries, and milkshakes. They were both starved. They walked into the house, went straight to the stools at the kitchen counter, and started eating. They were both stuffing their mouths with fries when they looked at each other and started laughing. It was surreal. A moment in time Dani would never forget. For years to come, if anyone asked her about this day, the first day of the rest of her life, Dani would say they gobbled down french fries and laughed.
It wasn’t until they had taken showers and they were both dressed in shorts and oversize T-shirts that Dani brought out sheets and a blanket and explained that Tinsley could have her bedroom until they set up the other room.
“Why don’t we both sleep in your bed? I don’t want to be alone.”
Dani’s eyes watered, but somehow she managed to hold back a sob of happiness. Tinsley was home. Her daughter was here with her, clean and fed and safe. When they slipped under the covers, their heads on stacks of fluffy pillows, both staring up at the ceiling, Dani murmured, “Like the counselor at the hospital said, it’s going to take some time for us to get to know each other, but I’m ready to listen whenever you’re ready to talk.”
That’s all it took to open the floodgates.
It was already late, but they talked through the night to the early hours before dawn.
Tinsley told her how she’d often dreamed of Dani and would cry when she thought about her dying in a car accident as she had been told. She only knew Hattie Goodwin as Rebecca, and that’s what she called her.
The thought that maybe Tinsley worried about Rebecca since she had spent the past five years with her crossed her mind, but it didn’t appear to be the case. Tinsley said she didn’t hate Rebecca, but she was glad to be away from her. Rebecca was easily angered and would stomp and yell, turn red in the face. Within minutes her tantrum would be over. It broke Dani’s heart when Tinsley admitted she’d been lonely these past five years, and since there was no internet, no phones, and no TV, she’d done a lot of reading.
They talked about getting a puppy and what they would name him or her, which led to thirty minutes of picking silly names, like Bacon and Pup Tart. Dani mentioned her need to get fit after running after Quinn and realizing she was completely out of shape. Tinsley suggested they take their new dog to the park and throw a Frisbee. Somewhere along the way, Tinsley drifted to sleep. It wasn’t until that moment that Dani realized she hadn’t heard from Matthew after being assured by Detective Whitton that he would contact him. She had been so focused on making sure Tinsley was okay that nothing else had mattered. Oddly, Tinsley had never mentioned or asked about Matthew: Where was he? Was he okay? Did he know she was here?
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Dani’s questions about Matthew had all been answered the next morning when she got a call from Detective Whitton, giving her shocking news and telling her he would be picking her up in an hour. Luckily, Quinn was able to sit with Tinsley, no questions asked.
Dani now watched from the passenger seat of Detective Whitton’s car as Matthew walked out of RAYTEX’s corporate headquarters on J Street. She climbed out of the sedan. Doors opened and closed as Detective Whitton and three uniformed police officers got out of their cruisers lined up on the curb behind them.
Matthew’s gaze instantly fixated on Dani. “What’s going on?”
Detective Whitton and his team had spent the past twenty-four hours interrogating Hattie Goodwin, also known as Rebecca Carr. Hoping to get a lighter sentence, she told them everything, even agreed to a polygraph test that suggested she was telling the truth. “You knew that the woman known as Rebecca Carr picked up your daughter from school that day, didn’t you?”
Matthew looked at Detective Whitton. “What’s this all about?”
“It’s over, Matthew,” the detective told him.
Matthew scrubbed a hand over his face. “You can’t be serious. Dani makes up alternate scenarios in her head and will never accept the truth.”
“Detective Whitton and his men have arrested Rebecca Carr,” Dani said, hoping they could skip the bullshit and get to the truth.
“What does that have to do with me?” Matthew wanted to know, his eyes so wide he looked silly.
“Why don’t you tell us?” Dani said as she held up the gold ribbon with the tiny hearts.
“What is that?” he asked.
“The ribbon I put in Tinsley’s hair before I took her to school the day she disappeared.”
Matthew glanced at his watch. “I need to go.”
“Rebecca told the authorities everything,” Dani said, irritated by his refusal to come clean.
Matthew wagged a finger at Dani, but turned his gaze on Detective Whitton as he said, “She’s crazy.”
When he started walking away, Dani said, “Rebecca told them about how you came to the cabin and thought Tinsley had drowned.”
He stopped. A moment passed before he looked at Detective Whitton, who merely nodded, confirming that Dani was telling the truth.
“She did drown,” Matthew said, his body stiff, his tone indignant as if his declaration changed nothing. “It was an accident. I was furious with Rebecca for taking our daughter, and while we argued, Tinsley must have wandered outside. We found her facedown in the lake. I dove in, gave her CPR, did everything I could to save her, but she was gone.” His face crumpled. “It was an accident.”
Dani’s entire body trembled with anger. In a carefully controlled tone, she said, “Listen to yourself, Matthew. You’re not making sense. If it was all so innocent, why didn’t you tell anyone?”
He kept shaking his head as if that might make it all go away. “Rebecca told me to go. Told me she would take care of everything.”
“What did she mean by that?” Dani wanted to know.
“When I returned to the cabin—”
Dani snorted. “Days later.”
“When I drove back to the cabin,” he repeated, “Rebecca handed me our daughter.”
“In a fucking coffin?” Dani asked.
Detective Whitton placed a hand on her shoulder, and she instantly settled down.
“Not in a coffin,” he said. “She was wrapped in linen, covered from head to toe.”
“She was mummified?”
“Rebecca told me she was in a terrible state. Rebecca was trying to spare me.”
Dani wanted to strangle him. “Who was wrapped in linen? Say her name, dammit.”
“I buried our daughter in the apple orchard where she loved to run and play hide-and-seek.” His shoulders rounded as his self-confidence was replaced with repetitive swallowing and a quivering chin. “She would run as fast as she could, and when I caught up to her, I would pick her up and twirl her around and she would laugh.” He was crying now. “Do you remember the orchard, Dani?”
Who is this man? Dani didn’t recognize him any longer. The man she’d wanted so badly to have babies with looked pathetic and weak. She would never be able to forgive him. “You lied to me, Matthew.”
He took a deep, pained breath. “I’m sorry,” he said, unable to make eye contact. “I wish I could fix it.” He was looking at the ground as he talked, shaking his head slowly all the while. “What I did is inexcusable. I’m so sorry.”
Dani lifted her chin. “That wasn’t your daughter you buried in the apple orchard.”
He looked at her then. “I’m sorry, Dani, but it was. I buried her with my own hands. She’s gone.”
“Rebecca Carr’s real name is Hattie Goodwin,” she explained. “She has a history of stealing children.” Dani gave Matthew a second to take it in before adding, “Tinsley didn’t drown that day. Doctors believe she suffered from cold-water drowning syndrome. Although she appeared dead, she was still alive. The cold water saved her. The child you buried in the apple orchard was Kelly Rose,
a four-year-old girl stolen from her grave at Old Auburn Cemetery after dying of a medical condition.”
Matthew looked at Detective Whitton, mouth open, eyes wide. “Is it true?” he asked in a disbelieving voice. “Is Tinsley alive?”
Detective Whitton nodded.
Matthew turned his attention to Dani as if for confirmation. “She’s home with me,” Dani said. “She’s safe, and under the circumstances, I’d say she’s doing well.”
He sank to his knees, his hands covering his face, shoulders shaking.
Detective Whitton gestured for a uniformed officer to cuff him and take him to the station.
Matthew Callahan was going to jail.
As Dani watched Matthew being led to the back of a cruiser, she felt numb by his betrayal of her trust. All these years, he’d known who had taken their daughter, and worse, he’d thought he had buried Tinsley. She tried to imagine him standing in the middle of the apple orchard she knew so well, the delicate, sweet scent of apple and flowers swirling about, dressed in suit and tie, and using the starched white shirtsleeve to wipe sweat from his brow. Had he heard the sounds of her laughter from the past as he’d stabbed the shovel into the hard dirt?
When he buried that little girl he thought was Tinsley, he had buried his soul.
Dani swallowed.
He had not taken a life.
Somehow he’d allowed himself to become entangled in a demented woman’s scheme. A woman he’d wined and dined and surely taken to bed. He was ashamed. That much was obvious.
Dani knew that by forgiving him, she would be able to let go of grievances and judgments and allow herself to heal.
Maybe someday that would happen.
But not today.
EPILOGUE
One Year Later . . .
