The Girl in the Woods

by Patricia MacDonald

  ‘I always wondered how anyone could have seen that and not reported it.’

  ‘Oh, she would have, if she could,’ Blair insisted, strangely relieved to finally know what happened to her best friend. ‘Molly wasn’t one to back down, but she couldn’t report it. She was murdered, probably so she couldn’t tell anyone. The man who drove her to the foot of the driveway that day went to jail for her murder. No one believed him when he said that he dropped her off there. He’s been in jail all these years.’

  ‘Jesus. The poor bastard. That was a long time ago,’ said Ariel.

  ‘Nearly fifteen years ago. Oh, it makes sense to me now. I could never understand how anyone could hurt Molly. She was never frightened. She always spoke up for the weaker ones. The ones like me.’

  ‘Oh shit,’ said Ariel, as she reconfigured the pieces in her mind. ‘I misunderstood. When you said you had a friend who was murdered, you didn’t mean recently. You were talking about a long time ago.’ And then Blair’s silence seemed to register with Ariel. ‘I’m sorry about your friend,’ she muttered. ‘Doesn’t matter what I thought then. I guess she did try to help me.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Blair. ‘Of course she did. No matter what, she would have tried to help.’

  ‘How old was she?’

  ‘She was thirteen,’ said Blair. ‘She was just a girl.’

  Joe Reese was still tying the sash on his bathrobe as he reached the back door of his house.

  ‘Hold your horses,’ he yelled. ‘I’m coming.’

  He unlocked the door and opened it. Ellis Dietz and Tom Olson stood on his back porch. Darlene came shuffling into the kitchen, also in her bathrobe, her hair in rollers.

  ‘What is it, Joe?’ she asked. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Your boyfriend’s here,’ he said.

  ‘Oh my word,’ said Darlene. She turned away from the door and quickly fumbled to pull the rollers from her hair and stuff them in the pockets of her bathrobe. ‘Don’t let him in.’

  Joe peered out at the two men shivering on the porch. He addressed Tom.

  ‘I’m getting very tired of you people bothering me.’

  ‘Ellis has something he’d like to say,’ said Tom. ‘Can we come in?’

  Joe glared at Ellis, ‘I don’t want to hear anything he has to say. You have a lot of nerve showing up here, Ellis Dietz. You broke into my house today. I think the cops will want to know about this. Darlene, give the police a call.’

  Darlene had run her fingers through her hair and now stood behind her twin.

  ‘Now Joe, let’s not have any trouble. Ellis, what are you doing here at this hour?’

  ‘Can we come in, Darlene?’ Ellis asked. ‘It’s freezing out here.’

  ‘Oh, all right,’ said Darlene. ‘Just for a minute.’

  ‘Now, wait just a minute,’ said Joe indignantly. ‘This is my house. You don’t go telling people whether they can or cannot come in. These two have got no business here at this hour.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t?’ Darlene said, raising her eyebrows. ‘I was under the impression we both lived here.’

  ‘I just want to talk to you for a minute,’ said Ellis.

  ‘There’s nothing to say, Ellis.’

  ‘She doesn’t want to talk to you,’ said Joe.

  ‘I want to just explain a few things,’ said Ellis.

  ‘Come in,’ said Darlene, ignoring her brother.

  Ellis edged in past Joe. ‘Can we talk in private?’

  Darlene motioned for him to follow her into the living room.

  Joe shook his head. ‘So what are you doing here again?’ he demanded of Tom. ‘I thought we’d seen the last of you.’

  ‘Moral support,’ said Tom.

  Joe snorted with disdain. ‘At this hour?’

  ‘Actually, I decided to drive him over here. He’s had a few too many and I didn’t want him out on the road.’

  ‘I thought you were here about the girl,’ said Joe.

  ‘Oh no. We know all about the girl,’ said Tom.

  Joe blanched and grabbed onto the back of a chair by the back door. ‘You do?’

  ‘Somebody found her car at the bus station,’ said Tom. ‘So I guess she went back to Philly.’

  ‘Well, that makes sense,’ said Joe. ‘I guess she took a bus.’

  ‘Although it’s odd that she’d leave her car and take a bus,’ said Tom.

  ‘I’m sure I don’t care what she did,’ said Joe impatiently. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed.’

  ‘Just one thing. The other day, when Blair and I were here,’ said Tom, ‘you had a pink sock, like a child’s sock, stuck to back of your fleece vest.’

  Joe glared at him. ‘Well if I did, so what? Is there some law against picking up a stray sock on your clothes?’

  ‘I’m just asking,’ said Tom. ‘There are no children here, right?’

  ‘No, there are no children here.’

  ‘So how did you get a child’s sock on your clothes?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe Darlene brought it in from one of her hospice jobs.’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Tom. ‘It just strikes me as odd.’

  There was a sudden rumble of raised voices from the living room.

  Joe smiled slyly at Tom. ‘Well now, why don’t you go out in your car and get the motor running. I think your friend, Ellis, is about to get tossed out on his butt.’

  Darlene emerged from the living room, shaking her head. ‘Ellis, I told you how I feel. There’s just no reason why any right-thinking person would collect that stuff. Stop trying to explain it away. I’m sorry, but I am not going to change my mind. Now I want you to leave.’

  Ellis stood stubbornly in the living room doorway, trying to somehow justify the unjustifiable. ‘I won’t keep the stuff,’ he pleaded. ‘I’ll get rid of it.’

  Joe went up to him, and poked Ellis in the side. ‘Go on now. You heard the lady.’

  ‘Don’t put your hands on me,’ Ellis warned him.

  ‘All right, don’t get excited,’ said Joe. ‘I just want you to leave.’

  For a moment it seemed as if there was going to be a scuffle, but then Ellis dipped his head and conceded.

  ‘All right, I’m going,’ said Ellis. He came out into the kitchen.

  Once Ellis was out of the living room, Joe turned off the lights.

  Ellis stepped out onto the porch where Tom was waiting.

  ‘We better leave,’ Tom said to him.

  ‘Keep your shirt on,’ said Ellis in a cranky tone.

  Joe began to push the door shut.

  Ellis lumbered down the steps as Tom gazed out toward the barn and felt the night wind rise up, chilling him. The door slammed behind them. As he had a few dozen times already that night, Tom glanced at his phone and scrolled to Blair’s number. What has become of you, he thought? Automatically, hopelessly, he pressed the number once again.

  Suddenly, through the moaning of the wind, from the direction of the dark field in front of them, Tom heard a strange sound. It was the soft, tinny wail of a saxophone wafting sinuously through the night and a high, sorrowful voice pleading ‘Mother … mother.’

  Tom stared at his phone and then quickly ended the call. Marvin Gaye’s voice immediately stopped.

  Ellis was down the porch steps and halfway to the car. ‘Come on,’ he growled.

  ‘Wait,’ said Tom and then he whispered, ‘Listen.’ He pressed Blair’s number on the phone, and once again, Marvin Gaye began to sing.

  ‘What is that?’ Ellis demanded.

  Tom looked back at the light in the window of the kitchen door. As if to hasten him on his way, the light was immediately switched off. The house and the driveway were in pitch darkness. Across the field, the barn had a blank, lifeless façade. Tom ended the call and the voice stopped in mid-plea.

  ‘Jesus,’ Ellis cursed. ‘It’s black as a pit out here. What was that noise?’

  Tom gazed across the field. ‘Blair’s phone,’ he said.

&nbs
p; THIRTY-TWO

  Ellis turned and glared at him. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Her phone. I just called her number and I heard her ringtone. Her phone is somewhere out there in that dark field.’

  ‘Well, let’s go find it,’ said Ellis. He trudged across the driveway and began to descend into the field.

  Tom glanced back at the house. ‘No, we have to leave.’

  ‘Leave?’ Ellis yelped.

  ‘Pretend to leave,’ said Tom. ‘He’s expecting us to go.’

  ‘What’s her phone doing out in this field? Did she drop it there?’

  ‘She or somebody else.’

  ‘Ring it again. Maybe it will light up.’

  ‘Ellis, not now,’ said Tom. ‘We don’t want to arouse suspicion. Get in the car.’

  ‘The hell I will. If her phone is here …’ Ellis was making his way slowly into the field in front of the barn.

  ‘Ellis,’ Tom barked. ‘Do as I say or …’

  Suddenly the lights came back on in the kitchen and the back door opened. Joe Reese stood there in his bathrobe, peering out at them.

  ‘Why are you still here?’ he demanded.

  Tom looked up innocently at the man on the porch. He began to pat himself down.

  ‘I can’t find my keys.’ He turned to Ellis. ‘Ellis, they’re not over there. I never even set foot in that field. Let me look in the car.’

  Without waiting for a reaction, Tom went over to his pickup and opened the driver’s side door. He began to rummage around and then straightened up triumphantly, jingling a bunch of keys.

  ‘Here they are. Ellis, come on. I found the keys.’

  Ellis frowned and came back to the driveway. He glared up at Joe. ‘What are you looking at?’

  ‘I want to see you leave,’ Joe said.

  ‘Get in the truck, Ellis,’ said Tom.

  Grumbling, Ellis did what he was told. Tom put the keys in the ignition and offered Joe a friendly wave as he turned around in the driveway.

  ‘That motherfucker,’ said Ellis. ‘He knows where she is.’

  Tom set his jaw and drove. He took a right out of the driveway and, almost immediately, signaled a turn into an overlook on the other side the road.

  Ellis opened his mouth as if to protest and shut it again. Tom pulled into the curved spot along the highway that allowed drivers and passengers to stop and gaze out at the mountains. He put the truck in park and left the engine idling.

  Tom was shaking, partly from the cold, and partly from the flood of nervous tension which had swamped him.

  ‘She wouldn’t just leave her phone there,’ said Ellis.

  ‘No,’ said Tom.

  ‘But if she were in the house,’ said Ellis, ‘Darlene would say so. Even if she’s … through with me, she wouldn’t keep something like that a secret.’

  Tom frowned. ‘No … No, I’m inclined to agree …’

  ‘So if she’s not in the house …’ said Ellis, ‘where is she?’

  Tom shook his head. ‘Don’t go there.’

  The two men sat in silence for a moment.

  ‘Why would he do that? Why would he have her phone?’ Ellis demanded. ‘Why would he have anything to do with her?’

  Tom frowned. ‘She may have accused him of something, of a crime.’

  ‘What crime?’ Ellis asked.

  ‘What crime is she preoccupied with?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Ellis complained.

  ‘The murder of Molly Sinclair.’

  ‘What? That’s nuts!’ Ellis exclaimed. ‘Joe Reese had nothing to do with that. If that’s what Blair thought, maybe Joe just took her phone so she wouldn’t be able to call around and tell people that.’

  ‘He didn’t take her phone,’ said Tom in a biting tone. ‘He dropped her phone in that field. Or she did. In either case, I think something has happened to her. I don’t like to think what.’

  ‘I’ll break his neck,’ said Ellis.

  Tom looked at the other man in surprise.

  ‘What?’ said Ellis. ‘She’s family.’

  Tom nodded. ‘Right. Maybe we need to enlist the police.’

  ‘They won’t be any help!’ Ellis protested. ‘For one thing, you’ve got no proof of anything.’

  Tom knew that what Ellis said was true. They had nothing but the vaguest suspicions. ‘I have friends on the force,’ Tom insisted. ‘They’ll listen to me.’

  ‘They will not. Even if you get ‘em to come out here, Reese’ll blame everything on me,’ Ellis whined. ‘He’ll tell how I broke in the house.’

  Tom looked at him impatiently, knowing that Ellis was right. ‘If you’ve got a better idea, let’s hear it.’

  Ellis glowered at him. ‘I could go in there and choke Joe Reese until he tells me where she is.’

  ‘In other words, you don’t.’

  ‘At least it’s an idea. While you’re pussyfootin’ around, Blair’s life could be in danger. If she’s still alive,’ said Ellis.

  Tom did not contradict him.

  ‘Quiet,’ he said. ‘Let me think.’

  Blair was burning up. Sweat had broken out all over her body. She thrashed about on her thin pillow and her pile of rags, in a vain effort to get comfortable. The pain in her head was searing and, when she reached up to touch it, something sticky adhered to her fingers. At first she thought it was blood, but then she held her fingers in front of her eyes and saw that the substance on them was not dark or wet, like blood. It was viscous, and foul-smelling. The wound on her head was oozing.

  In a way, she was not surprised. He had opened that wound on her head by hitting her with a shovel, which had probably been used over the years to scoop up horse manure and had never even been wiped clean. That gash was like a petri dish full of bacteria. The thought of it made Blair feel sick to her stomach, but when she retched, nothing came out. The little bit of chili, which she had eaten hours earlier, had made its greasy way from her stomach into her bowels, where it now rested uneasily.

  Blair groaned and turned over. The hot flushes in her body had suddenly turned to shivers. She began to shake uncontrollably and her teeth chattered from the cold. Help, she thought. But she knew better than to cry it aloud. What help could she possibly expect from Ariel and her toddler? They had been imprisoned for years. What use to ask them for help?

  Blair lay on her side, facing the wall, her hands pressed between her knees, trying to warm her icy fingers. Help. Please.

  Suddenly, she felt a light touch on her shoulder, which made her jump. She turned her head and looked up into Ariel’s frowning eyes.

  ‘What’s a matter with you?’ Ariel asked.

  Blair tried to speak, but her teeth were chattering so that it was difficult. Blair tried to wet her lips and form the words.

  ‘I have a fever,’ said Blair. ‘I think the place on my head where he bashed me. It’s infected.’

  Ariel leaned over to look at Blair’s wound. Then she grimaced. ‘I think you’re right,’ she said. ‘Some kind of crud is coming out of it.’

  Blair squeezed her eyes shut. ‘Great,’ she whispered.

  ‘Look, I think we ought to try to make a plan,’ said Ariel.

  ‘A plan for wh … what?’ Blair asked, her body shaking.

  Ariel hesitated, debating with herself, and then took off the sweater she was wearing. She lay it over Blair’s back and shoulders. Blair wanted to weep. It seemed like the greatest kindness she had ever known. For a moment, she felt almost warm. And then the chills returned, coursing viciously through her.

  ‘Well,’ said Ariel, ‘I never know when he’s coming here. But we need to be ready. I was thinking maybe … with two of us … if he came in …’

  Blair closed her eyes. She knew what Ariel was thinking: maybe they could gang up and overpower him somehow. In theory it seemed a good idea. In fact, it seemed doubtful that Blair could even rise to her feet.

  ‘I can try,’ she offered.

  Ariel shook her head and sighed. ‘Yo
u’re not going to be any use to me, are you?’ she said.

  Blair knew that there was truth in what the young woman was saying. Blair was taking up her space and was wrapped in her sweater, and wasn’t going to be any help in terms of tackling or attacking her captor. Blair licked her lips and shook her head.

  ‘When that door opens …’ she said, ‘I’ll find it in me. I swear …’

  Ariel looked skeptical. ‘I doubt it. You’re a mess.’

  Blair grabbed at the other woman’s forearm. ‘Listen. Have you got anything we can use? For a weapon …?’

  Ariel looked down at Blair’s fingers. ‘You’re burning up,’ she said.

  Blair felt as if her face was frozen. She struggled to move her lips. ‘Think …’ she said. ‘Have you got knives over there with the food?’

  Ariel shook her head. ‘No knives. I’ve thought of that. Naturally.’

  ‘Anything heavy …? Cans of food? A cast iron pan maybe?’

  Ariel sighed. ‘No. He’s careful. He only brings food in plastic containers. Plastic everything. Plates and utensils.’

  ‘Nothing else?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Ariel pulled her own knees close to her chest and rocked back and forth. After a few minutes of silence, she spoke. ‘You can hear him, when he’s coming in. He unlocks that outer door and then he locks it again, before he unlocks this door. That way you can’t rush past him and get out. Believe me, I’ve tried it. So, after the outer door is locked, he opens that door …’ Ariel nodded her head, to indicate the door to the old tack room, now her prison.

  ‘Once I tried standing on a chair and hitting him hard as I could when he came in, but I never had anything heavy enough to really hurt him. I grazed him as he came through the door. He made me pay for that …’

  ‘How?’ Blair whispered.

  ‘He turned off the water in here for days,’ Ariel said matter-of-factly. ‘The smell from the bathroom was suffocating. And I felt like there were bugs crawling all over me and in my hair. And the thirst …’

  Blair could more than imagine it. She gagged again, but nothing came out.

  ‘I promised everything to get him to put it back on. He likes to make you beg. At first I wouldn’t, but now, since Trista came, I’ll start pleading right away.’

  ‘She’s his own child. Doesn’t that matter to him?’ Blair asked.