Little Girl Lost: A Riveting Kidnapping Mystery- Book 2

by Alexandria Clarke

  “You and me both.”

  She chewed on the inside of her cheek, the thump of her heels ceaseless. “Bee, how did you deal with everything? You know… afterward.”

  The pages of the magazine crumpled in my grip. It was only the second time Holly had ever asked me about my past. The first time was weeks ago after Emmett’s scarce funeral. We hadn’t planned to go, but Holly insisted, so I drove her out to the cemetery, and we watched as they lowered his casket into the ground adjacent to his mother’s grave. No one else had come to pay their respects. Holly cried quietly, and when I asked her why she bothered, she replied with a warmth that I was not capable of.

  “He was a person,” she’d murmured, linking her arm through mine and leaning her head against my shoulder. “No one’s born evil, Bee. You have to wonder what he suffered through to make him think he deserved to have you.”

  I pondered that while the funeral assistants filled the dirt back in. Maybe Holly was right. Maybe Emmett had been a tortured soul from the very beginning, what with his deadbeat father and suicidal mother, but all of that hurt didn’t give anyone the excuse to become a kidnapper or a rapist. Life was all about choices. Emmett could have chosen to turn around his situation through healthy, legal means, but he picked the darker way out.

  “I don’t pity him,” I’d told Holly then. “I can’t.”

  She looked away from the hole in the ground toward me instead. “What happened to you? You’re different now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s like you’re made of concrete,” she said. “But there are a ton of cracks in you, and if someone wedged a chisel firmly enough, you’d fall apart. You weren’t always like that, not even after Mom and Dad died. What happened to you?”

  So I told her, right there in the cemetery. It all spilled out in one go, from the moment I’d arrived in Paris to the night I’d escaped. Scott had suggested keeping the details from her, but she deserved to know the reasons for why she had been plucked from her home without preamble. She listened without interrupting, enraptured, and once I had finished, she hugged me tightly and didn't let go until my body stopped trembling and we were the only ones left in the cemetery.

  “Bee?”

  Holly’s voice brought me out of the cemetery and back to the doctor’s office. I set aside my magazine. “How did I deal with it? To be honest, I didn’t. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a lot better at running away from things than confronting them head on. I never had the audacity for it.”

  “You’re the bravest person I know,” she said.

  I managed a small smile. “Is there a reason you’re asking now?”

  “I can’t stop thinking about it,” she said. “All that time in Emmett’s basement. Writing those terrible notes to you. Mac getting shot. You getting hurt. It’s like a bad movie on replay.”

  I kissed the side of her head. “I think it’s time.”

  “Time for what?”

  “To go to therapy,” I suggested. “I asked Doctor Waters for a list of recommendations weeks ago, but I wanted to make sure you were ready to talk about it.”

  “You want me to see a shrink?”

  “A psychologist,” I corrected. “And I think we should go together. I know I have plenty to talk about. Mom and Dad to start with.”

  Holly fiddled with the paper that covered the exam table. “I guess it would be good to get it all out in the open.”

  “I think so too.”

  Someone knocked lightly on the door before entering, and Doctor Waters stepped in with Holly’s file in hand. “The Dubois girls, back again,” she said brightly. “Let’s see if we can get you back on the ballfield, Holly. What do you say?”

  Twenty minutes later, Holly bounded across the parking lot, leapt over a concrete curb stopper on her way to the Jeep, and let out an earsplitting whoop. Doctor Waters had cleared her of all medical concerns. She was healthy enough to head back to softball practice the next day. When she climbed into the Jeep, she reached into the backseat for her Belle Dame fastpitch ball cap and jammed it onto her head in celebration then adjusted the rearview mirror to take in her reflection.

  “Aw, it looks so good!” She turned toward me and pointed at the cap. “Doesn’t it look good?”

  “It looks great,” I agreed with a grin.

  She turned the key in the ignition, bouncing up and down in her seat with excitement. “Can we go visit Aunt Ani? I want to tell her the good news.”

  “Quickly,” I replied. “Don’t forget your homecoming party is tonight. I promised Emily that I’d buy the burgers and hot dogs, and we have to swing by the boutique to pick up Autumn.”

  We hit Belle Dame’s assisted living facility first. Ever since Holly’s return, Aunt Ani had made giant strides of improvement. The three of us together again had triggered a new vigor in her. She was speaking and walking, shocking the caretakers who were only used to seeing her blink. Ani had switched rooms. Her new lodgings looked more like a small studio apartment than a hospital room, but as she regained more and more of her strength, her restlessness within the facility grew also. Today, we found her baking in the communal kitchen, and the familiar scent of her famous chocolate banana bread took me back in time to a happier era.

  “My girls!” she cried, spreading her arms wide to hug us both at the same time. “Here, taste this. Is it missing something?” She fed us each a forkful of banana bread before we could return the greeting. “Well? How is it?”

  “Can I chew please?” I mumbled, cupping a hand beneath my chin to catch any falling crumbs.

  Holly swallowed first. “It tastes amazing, Aunt Ani. I don’t think it’s missing anything.”

  “Chocolate chips,” I piped in as soon as my mouth was clear. “You used to layer chocolate chips on top.”

  Ani snapped her fingers in recollection and kissed my forehead. “That’s it! Of course you would remember that, Bee. You were always the chocolate fiend.”

  “Never forget it.”

  “Ani, look!” Holly bounced on the toes of her sneakers as she pointed to her ball cap. “Doctor Waters cleared me to play again.”

  Ani gasped and tugged Holly in for another hug. “Really? I’m so happy for you, sweetheart!”

  Holly drew back, beaming. “Will you come to a game?”

  “I’ll come to all of your games,” Ani promised. The oven beeped. The second batch of banana bread was ready to come out. Ani straightened a piece of Holly’s hair under her hat. “Do you mind taking that out? I’d like to talk to your sister for a minute.”

  “Sure,” she said before prancing away.

  “How’s she really doing?” Ani asked me in a low voice as we watched Holly open the oven and prod the banana bread with a toothpick.

  “She’s good,” I assured her. “As good as she can get anyway.”

  “And what about…?” She trailed off, tapping her temple instead of voicing her concern out loud.

  “The telepathic stuff?” I whispered. “I don’t know. They did a CAT scan when we found her, but nothing abnormal popped up.”

  “Do you still talk to each other?” Ani asked. “Like that?”

  “No,” I said. “Not while we’re awake at least. I’ve heard her a few times at night, when she was dead asleep.”

  Ani followed Holly’s movements as she coaxed the hot banana bread out of its pan. “Keep an eye on it. And whatever you do, don’t tell anyone.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  Holly flicked off the oven mitts and dusted off her hands. “You guys talking about me?”

  “Narcissist,” I said.

  “Actually,” Ani began, inspecting the fresh loaf of bread to check Holly’s work, “I’ve been speaking with my caretakers here. They’re more than pleased with my improvement, and now that I’m able to care for myself, I have the option of moving out of the facility.”

  “Really?” Holly exclaimed. “Ani, that’s great!”

  “I think so too,”
she agreed. “I’d love to have my girls back under one roof.”

  Holly and I exchanged a quick glance. Once upon a time, the thought of living with Ani felt like a dream. After all, that was how things were supposed to go after my parents died, but Ani’s mental illness had derailed that plan. Things were different now. In a couple of months, Holly would graduate and go off to the college, quite possibly across the country, and I had no idea what I was going to do once she was gone. It didn’t seem right to stay in Belle Dame, not after I had spent so much time trying to keep away from it, but this was also the first time that there were people in my hometown that I wanted to keep an eye on. For one, Autumn’s due date was only a couple of months away, and two, I’d found a fierce friend in Mac. I was still undecided though, and I didn’t want to make any promises that I couldn’t keep. Whatever the case, I didn’t want to leave Aunt Ani all alone again.

  “We can talk about it later,” Ani said, picking up on the subtle vibes of apprehension. “I’d like to see if I can get my old house back anyway, and that’s going to take some time.”

  “Later,” I agreed. I checked the clock above the stove. “We should get going, Ani. We have a ton of stuff to do for the party tonight. You’re still coming, right?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” she replied. “Someone from the facility is going to drive me over. Seven o’clock?”

  “Perfect. See you then.”

  I cradled a warm loaf of banana bread, wrapped in paper towels, in my lap as Holly drove us from the assisted living facility to the center of town. There, we stopped at the butcher’s shop to pick up the hot dogs and burgers. Then we headed to Oak and Autumn, the little boutique that Autumn owned. I’d been working there for the past few weeks, helping out with inventory and shelving stock since I was no good at the fashion side of things. Autumn appreciated the assistance, and it was a good way for me to make sure she wasn’t falling apart at the seams over Christian's death. After all, he was still the father of her baby. In all honesty, I’d expected a lot more crying from her, but after that first day at the hospital, Autumn had worked hard to straighten out the harsh reality of her relationship with Christian. She had joined a support group for single soon-to-be mothers, signed up for prenatal yoga, and found a new hobby in designing and producing her own baby clothes. Autumn was a pro at navigating relationship drama, and she wasn’t going to let Christian’s monstrous behavior affect the rest of her life.

  The wind chimes over the door to Oak and Autumn pealed as we entered the store. Autumn looked up from the register and grinned. These days, it seemed like her stomach grew several inches at a time. I swore she was bigger with every passing minute.

  “My favorite sisters,” she said. “I hope you’re here to pick out a party outfit, Bee, because that T-shirt and shorts combo is not going to cut it.”

  “These are Holly’s shorts, so take it up with her,” I countered.

  Holly’s mouth dropped open. “You stole my clothes?”

  “Like you noticed! Besides, all my laundry is dirty.”

  “Wash a load, Bridget!”

  Autumn laughed and tousled Holly’s hair. “Ah, listening to the two of you argue is like being sixteen again. I almost missed it. Oh, wait. No, I didn’t. Wash your damn clothes, Bee. What happens when you run out of underwear?”

  “I already did.” I smirked. “I bought new underwear.”

  “At least you didn’t borrow mine,” Holly said. She rested her hands against Autumn’s stomach. “How’s our little girl?”

  “Restless,” Autumn replied. “She’s a total troublemaker. Won’t let me get any sleep.”

  “Sounds like someone I might get along with,” I said. As Holly wandered off to browse Autumn’s new summer collection, I added in an undertone, “What about the other stuff? The preeclampsia?”

  She rubbed her belly in slow, soothing circles. “We’re keeping an eye on it. There’s still a chance that I’ll go into labor early, but as long as this little girl comes out healthy and happy, I’ll be good. You’re going to be there, right?”

  “Where?”

  “In the delivery room.”

  My brain short-circuited. “Uh.”

  Autumn’s lower lip jutted out. “Please? I have no one else to ask except Holly, and I don’t want to scar her for life.”

  “Why not?” I ventured. “It would be great birth control.”

  “Bee.”

  “I know, I know. Yes, I’ll be there, but just a forewarning, I’ll probably be screaming louder than you.”

  Autumn hooked her arm through mine. “That’s all I can ask for. Now let’s get you something to wear that doesn’t belong to your teenaged sister.”

  By the time Holly pulled the Jeep into the Millers’ long driveway, all three of us were primped and party ready. Autumn had picked out a pretty but sporty dress for Holly and a pair of dark wash jeans with a sleeveless button down shirt for me. We waved to Bill, who was mowing the massive front lawn with his riding mower, and the Millers’ dog, Scooby, barked at the wheels of the Jeep as we ambled up the dirt drive and parked outside the house. When Holly got out, Scooby’s tail wagged so fast that it turned into a blur. He still hadn’t gotten over the excitement of having her home yet, and Holly loved him too much to redirect his muddy paws away from her new dress. Autumn groaned as dirt cascaded from Holly’s new outfit.

  “It’s fine,” I said, unloading the cases of burgers, hot dogs, and buns from the backseat. “We’ll wash it off upstairs. Can you help me with this?”

  Autumn and I carried in the food while Holly herded Scooby inside, where Emily and the rest of the Millers’ foster kids strung decorations throughout the living room. The littlest ones spread glittery confetti across the floor, while Ryan, second oldest to Holly, helped Emily stretch a Welcome Home, Holly! banner across the top of the fireplace.

  “Ooh, food!” Ryan gasped as he spotted the meat.

  “It’s raw,” I warned him.

  Emily stepped down from her stool to lead us into the kitchen. “Thanks, girls. I appreciate the help. Let’s get these in the spare fridge for now.”

  “I can do it,” Autumn said, swatting me away. “You go upstairs and get those stains off of Holly’s dress.”

  “I’m seventeen, not seven,” Holly argued. “I can clean myself, thank you.”

  I swatted her butt playfully. “Don’t argue. Up you get.”

  She took the stairs two at a time to escape my attacks and barricaded herself in the bathroom to take care of her dress herself. I chuckled and headed down the hall to drop off our other clothes in the bedroom. The bunk bed held two mattresses again, one for me and one for Holly. I’d moved from the bed and breakfast to the Millers’ house as soon as Holly had been discharged from the hospital. It was like going back in time, except nowadays I didn’t mind the cramped living situation. It was nice to be close to Holly again, and I actually enjoyed helping Emily out with the other kids. Not to mention, Bill and I had instated a hesitant truce. He had returned to the house as well, though for the present, he slept on the pull out couch in the living room rather than in the master bedroom with Emily.

  “You okay?” Holly asked. She’d appeared in the doorway without me noticing, the dirty paw prints banished from the front of her dress.

  “Yeah,” I told her. “Just thinking.”

  She hugged me from behind as I stared out of the window, watching Bill putter around the front yard on his mower. “About what?”

  “Bill and Emily.”

  “Hmm. I think they’ll be okay,” she said. “Haven’t you been watching them? They still gravitate toward each other like magnets, like Mom and Dad used to. Some married people stop doing that after a while. Will you braid my hair?”

  I didn’t question the segue, instead turning around to accept the offered hairbrush and begin weaving the soft, thin strands of Holly’s pinkish golden hair into a sideswept waterfall braid. When I was finished, we didn’t join the pre-party preparations downstairs. I
nstead, we snuggled up on the top bunk and watched the sun sink toward the horizon. When the sky was orange and pink and Bill had finally retired his lawn mower, the doorbell rang.

  “Bridget! Holly!” Emily called up the stairs. “They’re here!”

  By eight o’clock, the party was in full swing. It seemed that all of Belle Dame had come out to celebrate Holly’s triumphant return from oblivion. The house was so packed that we left the front and back doors open for people to go in and out to the fairy lit porch as they pleased. Holly’s favorite music pumped from the television speakers, occasionally punctuated by one of Ryan’s punk rock songs. He had compiled the playlist and was unable to resist adding his own zest to it. Bill manned the grill on the back porch, churning out burgers and hot dogs like the owner of a popular food truck. Emily refilled chip bowls, set out new appetizers, and collected used party cups to throw into the trash. For the most part, I kept out of the way. My social skills had not come so far as to entertain all of the Millers’ friends in one night. I found a quiet corner, sipped on a bottle of beer, and kept an eye on my little sister.

  Holly’s smile was the most beautiful and relaxing thing in the room. After weeks of listening to her cracked, stressed voice in my head, it was a whole new experience to watch her talk and laugh with her friends. The entire softball team, including the coach, had turned up at the party, and when Holly told them the news of her return to the game, a roar of cheers nearly lifted the roof from the rest of the house. Then the team lifted Holly onto their shoulders and carried her outside, the top of her head narrowly avoiding the door frame as they did so. I followed them out, grinning, and watched as they started up a recreational game of five against five in the front yard. They used the cases the hamburgers had come in for makeshift bases, and Holly put her dress through the wringer as she reclaimed her status as team captain, taking the first hit at bat and sending the ball all the way to the street. A familiar redhead captured the neon green ball out of the air and tossed it back to the girls as she walked up the driveway, a pronounced limp in her gait.