by Patricia Fry
“How did you learn about Shelly and me?” Savannah asked.
“From the local sheriff’s department.”
“Oh, I see,” Savannah said. She then spoke more cordially. “Yes, of course, Mrs. Roberts. I’d love to meet you. Please call when you arrive and let me know if you need transportation or anything else. In the meantime, do you have a cell phone number you could give me?”
“Yes,” Mabel said, reciting the number. She hesitated and asked quietly, “Is there anything new in the investigation?”
“No,” Savannah said. “They searched with dogs today and came up with nothing.” She took a breath. “I suppose that could be good news…in a way. We’re trying to keep positive, but it isn’t easy.”
Once she’d hung up, Savannah called Craig’s number. “Craig, guess who just called me,” she said excitedly. “Marissa’s grandmother. At least I sure hope she is her grandmother. She and her husband are coming to take her home with them. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Sure, Savannah, if…”
“I don’t want to hear the ifs,” she demanded. “I only want to hear the happy ending. Marissa is found and her grandparents are legitimate and wonderful, and she can finish growing up in their loving care. That’s what I want to hear!” she shouted.
“Sounds good to me.” He paused, then said, “Tell me more about this character called Esse.”
“I’ve told you everything I know, Craig,” Savannah snapped. “I’m tired and I’m scared for that little girl.”
“Humor me, honey, will you? Tell me again what you know about him.”
After sighing deeply, Savannah said, “Well, he’s been helping with the photography classes. He works at the camera shop in the mall. As I told you, I don’t trust him, and I’m not sure why. Marissa doesn’t like him. Rags hates him. We believe that horrid picture of the little missing boy came from his backpack. And he shows up in my picture where Marissa could have been taken.”
“Anything else?”
“He seemed to have a special interest in Marissa. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I don’t trust him around her. When we were out on the field trip with the kids, it seemed like he was trying to single her out for some reason.” She paused. “Oh, and he called her Rachel.”
“Yeah?” Craig questioned. “And that bit of trivia is relevant because?”
“Because her grandmother just told me that’s what Marissa’s father called her when he came asking for money some six years ago.”
There was silence on the other end. Finally, Craig said, “Well, detective Savannah, you’d sure like to tie this up in a pretty bow, wouldn’t you?”
“I’d like to find Marissa unharmed, that’s what I want,” she said defiantly.
Again there was a long silence, then, “What do you think about taking your cat out there?”
“Out where?” she asked.
“Out to Mule Flats.”
“Are you serious? How would we get him there?”
“He likes your horse, doesn’t he?”
“Craig, what are you thinking? Sure, he likes her from the top of the corral fence, but he’s never... Rags on a horse? Are you crazy?”
Startled by what he’d heard, Michael looked up from his newspaper.
“Think about how we could get him on your horse, would you?” Craig suggested. “I have a hunch he can do what those dogs failed to do. He has a rapport with the little girl—a connection. If she’s out there, I’ll bet he can find her. What do you say?”
“Of course, I want to try anything that could possibly help find her, but Rags on a horse? I just don’t know, Craig. Let me discuss it with Michael and I’ll get back to you.”
“Good. Oh, by the way, they’ve arrested Mavis and Clark Cotton. After searching the home and questioning the children, we have strong evidence the children were being neglected and maybe even abused. We also believe Mavis had something to do with Erin’s injuries.”
“How is Erin?” Savannah asked.
“Still in the hospital.”
“Can I go see her?”
“Yes, I can arrange that. I think it would be good for her. Her last name is Michaels.”
After a moment of silence, Savannah asked, “Could the Cottons have done something to Marissa?”
“It’s possible. They’re among the suspects, that’s for sure. In fact,” he said, hesitating, “among their belongings we found a couple of dirt bikes in a shed.”
Savannah chuckled. “I can’t imagine that woman on a dirt bike, can you?”
“Maybe not, but did you know the nephew you mentioned stays out in the shed?”
“Yeah. Marissa said there are two adult nephews who are rude and ill-mannered.”
“Well, according to the neighbors,” Craig said, “they come and go. They have an old truck that they use to haul those dirt bikes around in.”
“Yeah, that’s the truck I saw Erin leave in the other day, before she was…hurt. What a chaotic household that must have been.”
****
Savannah arrived at the hospital the following morning around eight forty-five. “I’d like to see Erin Michaels, please,” she announced at the reception desk.
“Name?”
“Savannah Ivey.”
The pert woman dressed in a pink uniform ran her finger down a page on a large pad and said, “Okay, you’re cleared. She’s on the third floor. You’ll see the guard at the door. Just give him this,” she said, handing Savannah a small card.
As it turned out, Savannah knew the guard. “Hi John,” she greeted. “Got you on sentry duty, huh?”
He nodded. “You know the little gal in there?” he asked.
“Yes. Thanks for taking good care of her. Okay if I visit?” she asked, showing him the card.
“Sure. She doesn’t get many visitors.”
“Has she had any?” Savannah asked.
“Not on my watch.”
“Hi, Erin,” Savannah said as she entered the room cautiously. “Are you up to having an early morning visitor?”
The teen rolled onto her back and smiled. “Yes. How nice of you to come.” She looked expectantly at Savannah. “Did they find Rissy?”
Shaking her head, she said, “Not yet. But they will, I’m sure of it.” She put her hand on the teen’s arm and asked, “How’re you feeling, hon?”
Erin took a shallow breath and coughed. “I’ve been better.” She smirked a little. “But I’ve been worse, too.”
Savannah cringed when she saw the scrapes on Erin’s pretty face. One arm was bandaged. She sat down next to the bed, her hand still on the girl’s arm, and asked, “So how did it happen?”
Erin looked away for a moment, then turned to face Savannah. “She pushed me out of the truck,” she said quietly. “Detective Craig…he’s so nice.” She smiled weakly. “He said the Cottons are in jail, so I shouldn’t be afraid to tell the truth.” She grabbed Savannah’s arm. “I was scared to death they had Rissy and terrified that they…” she scowled, “…or those evil nephews…would harm her if I told the truth. Hopefully, my story will keep them in jail forever.” She looked despondent. “Only then Rissy and I will have no place to go.”
“You’d go back there?” Savannah asked, shocked at the thought.
Erin hesitated. “Well, I’m no Einstein, but I’ve learned that you may not be in the best place, but if you have a roof over your head and food on the table, maybe you shouldn’t make any waves. Things could be worse. Know what I mean?”
Savannah gritted her teeth. “How did you end up there, anyway?” she asked. “Marissa said she doesn’t think there’s a social worker involved.”
Erin thought for a moment. “I’m not really sure.” She looked at Savannah. “No, there’s no one monitoring what goes on in that house. As I remember, Mavis needed a babysitter. She knew one of my foster moms—we lived in the same neighborhood. I guess she pulled some strings or broke some laws, maybe, to get me.�
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“Gads, those other children must have been infants. You were babysitting infants at ten?”
Erin grinned. “Oh yes. When my parents died in that fire, my childhood pretty much died along with them.” She looked at Savannah. “You’d be surprised what’s expected of kids in foster homes—well, probably not all of them, but…” Suddenly, she grabbed Savannah’s hand. “Did they arrest those two freeloaders, too?”
“You mean the nephews? I don’t know,” Savannah said. “I don’t think so.”
“Ms. Savannah,” Erin said quietly, her eyes pleading, “they’ve just got to find Rissy! She’s…well, she’s like a sister to me.”
Savannah thinned her lips. “There are a lot of people looking for her. Today, we’re taking our cat out to see if he can find her.” She cringed. “I don’t know how that’ll go.”
“Oh, Rags?” Erin asked. “Marissa talks about him all the time. She loves that cat. She loves most all animals, but…I could tell there’s something special about your cat,” she said, her eyes welling up.
In an effort to calm the teen, Savannah asked, “Do you like animals?”
Erin rolled her head toward Savannah. “Yeah. Yeah, I like them. Never had one of my own, that I can remember.” She stared toward the window. “I have an old picture of myself as a very little girl and there’s a puppy licking my face. I’m laughing.” She chuckled. “It’s really cute. So I might have had a dog back then.” Her mood became dark. “But once my original foster mother died, I went from home to home until I landed with the Cottons seven years ago. I don’t remember any of the homes having pets—just an overflow of kids.” She looked at Savannah. “I’ve never been close to any of those kids until Rissy.” She began to cry.
“I know,” Savannah said, hugging the girl gently. She pulled back and asked, “When can you leave the hospital?”
“I don’t know. No one has said anything about me leaving.” She began to weep, saying, “That’s probably because I have no place to go…”
Savannah leaned toward the teen and ran her hand over her hair. “Erin, do you mind if I ask a few questions about you and your condition? Is there anyone who’s speaking for you—on your behalf?”
She thought for a moment. “Ms. Shelly came to see me, but she had to leave in a hurry. She had some sort of family emergency in another state. I think she flew out yesterday to Minneapolis or someplace.” She fidgeted with the edge of her blanket, then added, “There is one nurse who has asked me a lot of questions. She’s been real nice to me. Why?”
“What’s the nurse’s name? Is she on duty today?” Savannah asked.
“Yeah, I saw her a little earlier. Her name’s Diane.”
“I’ll be right back,” Savannah said. “Is there anything you need from the gift shop, or can I run out and get you a soda or something?”
Erin rolled her head back and forth against her pillow. “Oh, I guess not. I don’t think so…unless…” she smiled a little.
“Unless what?” Savannah asked. “Your wish is my command.”
“I’d sure like to have a bowl of ice cream.”
“What’s your favorite flavor?” Savannah asked, grinning.
“If you can find it, chocolate. If not, vanilla is fine or strawberry…”
Savannah patted her hand. “I’ll be right back. You wait there.”
“Yeah, right,” Erin said. “Where am I going?”
When Savannah returned, she carried a large bowl of chocolate ice cream and a couple of chocolate-chip cookies. “Here you go; your ice cream prescription. This ought to make you feel lots better.”
Erin tried to laugh a little, but soon found herself doubled over, holding one side.
Savannah set the bowl on the bed tray and helped Erin to sit up. “Hon, I talked to your doctor. Diane introduced him to me. He said you can go home any time.”
Erin’s eyes grew wide with anticipation. “Really?”
“Yes, as long as you have a place to stay where you’ll get the right kind of care.”
Deflated, Erin said, “Well, I guess that means I stay here.” She squeezed her eyes closed, then opened them and said, “Do you know where I want to be more than anything?”
Savannah shook her head.
“Out there searching for Rissy.”
Savannah patted the girl’s shoulder and massaged it a little, then said, while moving the tray closer to her, “Hon, I have something I want to talk to you about.”
Erin took a small bite of the ice cream. “Mmm, tastes so good.” She then looked at Savannah. “What?”
“I spoke to your doctor.”
“Yeah, you told me.”
“I asked if I could take you home.”
Erin placed her spoon in the bowl and looked at Savannah in disbelief. “To your home?”
“Yes. We have plenty of room and my husband and I would love to give you a safe place to recover. Your doctor said he would clear it with the hospital social worker—he thinks it’s so much better that you be with someone you know and can trust than a random foster situation.”
The teen looked up at Savannah through tears. “I would love it. That would be so awesome. Rissy told me what a wonderful home you have and how nice you and your husband are. Oh…what a…surprise,” she said. “Yes, I would very much like to stay with you until I’m on my feet.” She gazed at something behind Savannah. “I’ve been thinking that I should drop out of school for now and get a full-time job. I’m old enough to support myself. I’ll be eighteen next month. I was only staying in that hell hole for Rissy. Maybe with county assistance I can support both of us.”
“Well, let’s not think about that right now,” Savannah suggested. She smiled down at the girl. “One step at a time, okay?”
“Okay,” Erin said, smiling. “Thank you, again.”
“Sure. I’ll check back with you later today. Right now, the detective and I and…” she cringed, “the cat are going in search of your little sister.”
Chapter 7
“So, is he ready for his first horseback ride?” Craig asked, peering into the pet carrier Savannah toted. “Yes. We thought I could mold this canvas carrier across the front of my saddle. I think I can make him fairly comfortable. Hopefully, he won’t object too much. I had a little talk with him so he knows where we’re going and why.”
Craig narrowed his eyes. “You think he understands something that complex, do you?”
“Yeah. Think about it, Craig,” she said as they pulled out of the driveway with the horses in tow, “doesn’t your Tommy kitty sometimes seem to understand your words or your intentions?”
He looked confused. “Huh?”
“Well, when you head into the kitchen to feed him or you ask him if he wants a treat, doesn’t he sometimes respond before you even start to open the can or the bag of treats?”
After some consideration, Craig said, “Yes, I’ve noticed that. He beats me to the kitchen sometimes and waits at his dish. I figured he has a built-in clock and knows what time it is.”
“Could be. But I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about taking Rags out for a walk and he races to his harness without my saying a word.” Her expression brightened as she said, “I can even narrow it down to this—when the carrier comes out because we’re going to the clinic for his shots, he hides. If we’re going someplace else or to the clinic for another reason, he walks into the carrier just fine.”
“Hmmm,” Craig said. “So what did you say to get him in there today?” he asked.
She spoke more solemnly, “I told him tomorrow is Christmas Eve—which is a very special day for children, and that we need to find his friend Marissa so she can celebrate her first Christmas.”
“With who?” he asked. “Her poor-excuse-for-parents are in jail.”
“Oh, they didn’t celebrate Christmas anyway.” Her demeanor brightened. “With us. I want to invite her to spend Christmas with us.” She added, “You know, Eri
n’s coming to our house.”
“Yeah, I got the memo. She’s old enough to be on her own, isn’t she?”
Savannah nodded. “Almost, I guess. But she needs rest and care right now and she doesn’t have any place to go.”
Craig glanced at Savannah and then at the cat in the carrier sitting between them on the seat. “God, I hope he can perform a miracle out there for us today.”
“Amen,” Savannah said. Under her breath she added, “A Christmas miracle.”
Over an hour later, the pair rode along the trail on horseback with the soft carrier wedged across the saddle in front of Savannah.
“How’s he doing?” Craig asked.
“Good,” Savannah said. “He was trying to stand up and kept losing his balance. He has figured out he’s better off just lying down. Yes, he’s getting the hang of it. I think he kind of likes it. He’s just watching the scenery go by like he does during a car ride.”
Craig chuckled. “Yeah, I can just see him trying to hitch a ride on the horse by himself next time he goes out to the corral.” He glanced back at Savannah again. “You brought his leash, didn’t you?”
She nodded.
“Okay, let’s leave the horses here, shall we?” he suggested when they reached the meadows. “This is where most of those mine shafts are. We’ll take the cat on his leash from here.”
“If we go very far, we may have to carry him. Cat’s don’t have a lot of endurance.”
“Okay.” Craig peered at the cat. “Do your stuff, Rags, old boy.”
“Yes, please,” Savannah said. “Come on, Rags. Where’s Marissa? Find Marissa.”
The couple and the cat had been searching for nearly ninety minutes when Craig said, “Damn, we’re almost out of options.” He pointed. “The last visible shaft appears to be about a quarter-mile north.”
Suddenly, Rags stopped. His ears perked up and he sniffed the air. He seemed to be listening intently to something, then he began tugging on the leash.
“Where’s he going?” Craig asked. “He’s not after a rabbit, is he?”