‘Is anyone expecting you?’ Ariel asked.
‘You mean …’
‘Tonight. Was there anywhere you were supposed to be?’
Blair realized that this was the second or third time that Ariel had asked some version of the same question. Was anyone going to come looking for Blair? That was the only question that mattered and she did not seem to be able to accept or remember the answer. Or did not want to. She kept asking, as if hoping for a different response. Otherwise, Ariel had shown virtually no interest in Blair since Blair had awakened on the floor. She seemed indifferent to whom Blair might be and how she came to be there.
At first, Blair thought that if their situations were reversed, she would ask a million questions and want to know everything she could learn about the outside world. But the more she thought about it, the more she could understand why Ariel would have no curiosity. After all, curiosity about the world arose from the fact that it was your world. You lived in it. For Ariel, there was no outside world. The world she lived in was this clammy room and hallway. After years in here, she must have felt a profound indifference for what happened in the so-called world. No one from that world had come to her rescue. Who was to say it still existed?
‘Is there?’ Ariel prodded.
‘I’m … not really sure,’ said Blair.
‘Anyone who will miss you when you don’t show up?’
Blair thought about it. She had told her colleagues, through Eric, that she would not be returning for a while. Malcolm was just a kid and probably wouldn’t even notice she wasn’t there. And Uncle Ellis? He would be glad to have her gone. For a moment, she thought hopefully of Tom and then she realized how far-fetched that was. After a rocky start, they got along, but he was an employee. He would only try to find her if he didn’t get paid.
Blair’s life suddenly seemed unbearably bleak to her. It was as if she was not important in anyone’s life. She reminded herself of all the good her work was going to do. People would be able to walk and move again thanks to her and her company. Someday, someone might have her name engraved on a plaque and hang it in the computer lab at Drexel to remind students of all that they could accomplish. But would anyone weep to think that she had not come back?
‘No,’ Blair whispered. ‘No one.’
‘That’s a big help,’ said Ariel.
Blair did not reply.
Tom tried to read as the last of the fire in his woodstove turned to embers. He hated the noise of the TV, so reading was his main form of entertainment. He enjoyed settling into his worn leather chair by the woodstove, putting his feet up on the ottoman and losing himself in a book. He favored mysteries and detective novels, although he often found himself impatient with the plots. He thought he could do better, if he would only put his mind to it. One of these days I will write one, he would tell himself. But so far, that day had not arrived. Tonight, he couldn’t concentrate on the book he was reading. He had expected Blair to call. He knew he was allowing himself to get too personally involved in this investigation, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to talk to her. Obviously, she had other things to do.
With a sigh he put his book down on the table beside his chair, set his reading glasses on top of it and switched off the standing lamp. He went to the front door and looked out. Everything was quiet, except for the wind, moaning in the branches of the trees. Tom switched off the outside lights, checked to be sure the door was locked and went back to the bathroom to wash up.
He was staring into the bathroom mirror, shaving his neck and the edge of his beard, when he thought he heard a noise from outside. Like the slamming of a car door. He frowned and looked back in the mirror. Probably the wind, he thought. And then, just as he put the razor to his neck, he heard a banging on his front door.
He jumped, nicking the skin, and a line of blood zigzagged down his face and under his shirt. The banging continued.
‘All right. Goddamit,’ he yelled. ‘Just a minute.’ He mopped off the pink mixture of shaving cream and blood with a hand towel, and slapped a fragment of Kleenex on the cut. Then he went out into the dark living room. There were no lights on outside, so he could not see who it was banging on his door. He thought about picking up his gun and then decided against it. Intruders didn’t knock.
Tom switched on the outside lights and then went to the door and pulled it open. On his porch he recognized the rangy, unkempt figure of Ellis Dietz. Ellis did not smile or apologize for the lateness of the hour.
‘I been out looking for Blair,’ he said bluntly.
‘Come in.’ Tom stepped away from the door and Ellis edged past him, trailing the scent of beer. ‘Have a seat,’ said Tom, turning on the lamp behind his sofa.
‘Don’t want a seat,’ said Ellis. ‘Did you hear anything from her?’
A chill ran up Tom’s spine. ‘No. Why?’
‘I been out looking for her,’ said Ellis.
‘You have? When I came by your house earlier you weren’t all that concerned—’
‘After you left,’ Ellis interrupted him. ‘Malcolm got all weepy and bent out of shape. He kept asking me to go find her. Me and another fella have been out looking. We found her car. At the bus stop.’
‘Why would her car be there?’ Tom asked.
‘Exactly! That’s what I said. This other fella, Peter what’s-his-name … Tucker, said he figured she left it there and took the bus to Philly. But she wouldn’t do that. No way would she do that. If she was going to Philly, she’d drive.’
Tom frowned. ‘She strikes me as doing it that way too. But why else would she leave her car at the bus depot?’
‘She wouldn’t!’ Ellis barked. ‘That’s what I’m saying. She wouldn’t.’
‘Maybe some kid stole it and took it for a joyride? Drove it there and left it.’
Ellis shook his head. ‘The keys ain’t in it.’
‘You’re right. There’s something odd. It’s definitely … unlike her.’ Tom peered at Ellis. ‘Did you find her phone in the car? I’ve been trying to call her. I’ve texted. No answer.’
Ellis sighed. ‘No. She must have it with her. I thought she might get in touch with you. You’re the only one she knows around here except for Amanda and them. She’s paying you to snoop around, ain’t she?’
Tom decided not to take issue with this description of his job. He picked up his phone and looked again at his messages. Still nothing from Blair. Tom frowned at the blank display on his phone.
‘I think maybe I ought to join this search with you,’ he said.
‘I don’t want company,’ Ellis grumbled.
Tom ignored the rude response. ‘I went looking for her at the Reese place earlier. They said they had no idea where she was, but the fact is that they were the last ones to see her.’
‘Well, I can’t go over there. They’ll call the police if they even catch a glimpse of me,’ Ellis admitted.
‘Joe Reese said you broke the window on their back door?’
‘I just wanted to get in the house, to leave something there for Darlene. A peace offering.’
‘I don’t think it worked,’ said Tom. ‘Darlene’s brother is pissed.’
Ellis waved off Tom’s assessment and appeared to be brooding over something.
‘What is it?’ Tom asked.
‘So, if he was so freaking pissed at me, why didn’t he call the cops?’
‘I don’t know,’ Tom admitted. ‘It seems like he could have.’
‘Right. There’s his chance to get rid of me for good and all. And he ain’t a nice guy, giving me a second chance. But he didn’t do nothin’. He looks to me like he knows something and he’s not telling.’
‘Something about Blair?’
‘I dunno,’ said Ellis. ‘Maybe.’
Tom looked thoughtfully at Ellis Dietz. Ellis was a crank and a bigot and a slob. He seemed to feel nothing but disgust for the job of caretaker to his young relations which had been thrust upon him. And yet, this evening, he was worried. Agitated
even. Tom doubted that Ellis Dietz got agitated about his unwanted charges very often. But tonight he was worried about Blair. And that worried Tom.
‘Well, I think we’ve got the perfect excuse for going over there. You just tell Darlene that you need to talk with her, that you want to apologize. They’re good Christian folk,’ he said sarcastically. ‘They’ll have to welcome in a penitent man asking forgiveness.’
‘They’ll slam the door on me.’
Tom shook his head. ‘I’ll explain how you’re so sorry and want to repent.’
‘You can’t tell him that. He wants me gone.’
Tom shrugged. ‘Yeah, but Darlene seems like a reasonable woman. She’ll listen to what you have to say.’ As he spoke, he pushed Blair’s contact number on his phone and held it to his ear. The phone rang, and went directly to voicemail. Again.
‘Joe Reese is one of them churchgoing hypocrites,’ said Ellis. ‘I don’t mean to apologize to him. I’ll tell you that.’
‘It’s just a tactic, Ellis. You don’t have to mean it.’
Ellis shook his head. ‘They’re probably asleep now …’
Tom pulled his jacket off the hook. ‘Let’s go wake ’em up.’
THIRTY-ONE
A horrible shriek invaded Blair’s dreams and jerked her awake. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and then, as her heart sank with the realization, she wished she hadn’t remembered. She heard the shriek again. Ariel rose from the bed across the room and rushed to the closet. Blair could hear the murmur of Ariel’s voice, trying to soothe her daughter.
‘A monster came in,’ the child sobbed. ‘A monster.’
Blair’s head ached and her limbs shook. She tried to wrap herself in the ragged, makeshift bedclothes. A monster. That would be me, she thought. The sight of a stranger in the space which Trista shared with her mother alone must have been terrifying to the child. The only other person she ever saw was the true monster. Her father. But at least he was familiar.
‘It’s ok. It’s all right,’ Ariel murmured.
How did she keep going, Blair wondered? How did Ariel do the things that mothers had to do, when she was faced with an endless imprisonment, an endless series of days in this hellish cave? And then Blair reminded herself that she was in the exact same prison. And now the endless series of days stretched out in front of her as well.
Somehow, Ariel was able to soothe the child and carried her from the closet into her own bed. Trista fell back to sleep in no time, but Blair and Ariel lay awake, in their separate corners of the room, each staring at the ceiling.
‘I don’t know how you have withstood it,’ Blair whispered. ‘All this time. Never even stepping outside of this … dungeon.’
‘I try not to think about it,’ Ariel said dully.
‘Of course. Sorry,’ said Blair.
Ariel was quiet for a moment. Then she said in a voice barely above a whisper, ‘I got out once.’
‘You did?’ said Blair.
‘It was a long time ago. Before Trista was born.’
‘You broke out of here? You found a way to break out?’
Ariel shook her head. ‘He let me out,’ she said.
‘He let you out?’
‘Yeah, but I screwed it up. He had this fantasy about me living in the house with him. I guess he’d been thinking about it for a while, because he couldn’t wait to tell me about it when his wife left. She went away for the weekend. Some church thing, he told me. That’s a laugh, isn’t it?’
‘Unbelievable,’ Blair murmured in agreement.
‘Anyway, he told me he would let me out, but that I was still his prisoner and I had to be good and stay only in the house. He made me promise.’
Blair raised herself up on one elbow. Every joint in her body seemed to radiate pain.
‘He did? What did you say?’
‘What do you think? I promised. I swore on the Bible.’
‘What happened?’ asked Blair.
Ariel gave a noisy sigh. ‘Well, it’s not as if he trusted me. He would chain me up anytime he had to leave and he never left for long. But I was good as gold,’ she said. ‘I did everything he said. After the better part of two days, he decided it was safe to leave me alone in the kitchen, unshackled, just long enough for him to go to the john.’
‘What did you do? Did you call for help?’
‘Are you kidding? Call and try to explain my situation? To who, the police? In the little time I had? Oh no. I ran. I bolted out the door and ran into the woods.’
Blair felt her heart lift as she imagined Ariel fleeing, finally free.
‘Of course he chased me, but I figured he wouldn’t be able to see me in the woods and he couldn’t run as fast as I could.’
‘So … how come … I mean. Obviously, he chased you down.’
‘Not on foot. He got in his truck. Me, I ran through the woods until I reached a clearing, and I saw a house. It was raining, I remember. I ran toward the house. It looked like a log cabin. There was a light on. I ran up to the door and began banging on it, calling out for someone to help me. I could hear a dog barking inside. But no one came to the door. They probably left the light on for the dog.’
There was despair in Ariel’s voice, as she relived that long ago day.
‘It was no use. I realized I had to keep moving. Run to the next house. I could see it through the trees. But by then he had come after me and found me in his truck. He turned into the driveway and he saw me there, going off the porch. He headed right for me. He almost ran me over. He pinned me between the porch of the house and the truck. I had to run around the truck, but this time he was too quick for me. He grabbed me.’
‘You were so close,’ said Blair, imagining the misery of it.
‘I was,’ said Ariel. ‘He tied me up, gagged me, put a burlap bag over my head and pushed me into the cab of the truck. He injected me with some drug he used to keep me quiet. I know he always kept that stuff in the truck, but as he was closing the door on me, I heard footsteps on gravel. Someone was approaching the truck, asking what was going on. They must have come walking up the driveway. It turned out that it was the person who lived in the house.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Well, I didn’t hear another car drive in. Besides, she said so. It was a girl’s voice. I heard her confronting him, shouting through the rain, demanding to know what he was doing. For a minute, before I began to pass out, I thought I was saved. I heard him tell her to mind her own business and she said that it was her business, because this was her house. And then, I don’t remember anything else. I guess the drug kicked in and I passed out.’
Blair said nothing. She was seeing it all in her mind’s eye. Ariel escaping, making her way through the trees and crossing the properties on Fulling Mill Road. Running toward a lighted window and banging on the door. But no one answered. No one had even seen Ariel, running for her life. No one, that is, until the girl came walking up the driveway toward her house.
Suddenly, Blair understood. She understood all that had happened that early evening, long ago. This girl who lived there had just climbed out of a car at the foot of the driveway. She had left a friend’s house and accepted a ride from two people she knew, because it was raining. They let her off and the girl began to walk up the driveway and approach her house. Then she saw the unfamiliar truck and a stranger, forcing his prisoner into the cab. And she was outraged. She was not the sort of girl to let such a thing pass without protest.
‘I do remember thinking that I was going to be saved,’ Ariel continued. ‘I don’t know what happened. Maybe he talked her into thinking that I was his kid or something. Or that he was playing some kind of game with me or I don’t know what.’
Blair felt tears running down her cheeks.
‘You know,’ Ariel continued, ‘I always wondered if that girl, whoever she was, fell for his bullshit or if she ended up reporting it and they just couldn’t find me. For a while, after he locked me back up in here, I though
t that surely she must have reported it to the police. And that someone would recognize the truck or the license plate from her description and come looking for me. For several days I remember hoping, praying that someone was going to come. After a while though, I gave up on that. I don’t know what happened. I guess she didn’t tell or, if she did, nobody believed her.’
For a moment, Blair was silent.
‘It wasn’t either of those things,’ said Blair quietly. ‘She couldn’t tell. He killed her.’
‘Killed her?’
It was Ariel’s turn to be silent.
‘Wait. You weren’t there. How do you know that?’ she asked.
‘Because it was my friend, Molly Sinclair. She had left my house and took a ride with my sister and her friend to get out of the rain. They drove her to her house and let her off at the foot of the driveway that afternoon. The neighbors in the next house overheard you pounding on the door that day, calling for help. Molly must have come upon Reese, just as he was stuffing you into his truck.’
‘I still don’t get it,’ said Ariel. ‘How do you know this?’
‘Remember I told you that my friend was murdered?’
‘Yeah.’
‘That girl who confronted him that day – that was my friend, Molly. It had to be. It’s all beginning to make sense. She died from a blow to the head. He hit her with something – a baseball bat or a tire iron. Anyway, he hit her hard enough to kill her. I guess he killed her to keep her quiet. Then he took her body and dumped it in the woods across the road.’
‘Oh my God,’ Ariel breathed.
‘That’s why she didn’t report it,’ said Blair.
The Girl in the Woods Page 24
