by Dan Dillard
*****
How many blue Chrysler minivans were there in this town? Thankfully not too many, but the few I saw had people driving them that were not Jeanette. I drove through the grocery store parking lots and covered the mall. I drove to the churches. I even drove to the empty house Jeanette claimed to live in. I checked my phone. No messages.
Lisa wasn’t going to call me. I hoped she was home hugging her sweet—safe—little girls and thanking whatever being she prayed to in times of worry.
I drove the neighborhoods like I was solving a word search. Up one row and down the next scanning for the first letter that started the next word on the list, just so I could cross it off. I repeated it in my head. Blue minivan. Blue Chrysler minivan.
I circled back through town to the daycare. It was still empty. The porch was roped off with that horrifying yellow police tape but the patrol car was gone. He must’ve found all he needed. That or he also went home to hug his own children.
I searched through my received calls and dialed back the police station.
“Detective Williams.”
The tactful bastard.
“Detective? This is Valerie Andrews.”
“Yes, Ms. Andrews. I lost you this morning on the phone. How can I help you?”
Such a cheery voice. I hated him all over again.
“Have you got any news about the children?” I said.
“No ma’am. I did get word from one of our patrolmen that you stopped at the daycare? What about Mr. Andrews? Could he have picked the children up?”
He must’ve been the worst detective ever. “My husband died in a car wreck two years ago.” Blam. Take that asshole. No remorse, no apology on the other end of the line. Just tactful bastard quiet. “Have you spoken to Lisa or Jim Martin?” I asked.
“No. We haven’t been able to contact them.”
What kind of people don’t answer their phone when someone else is watching their kids? “So what do we do now?” I said.
“I’m afraid there isn’t much we can do at this time. Technically the children have only been gone for a few hours, and as of now, yours are the only ones who are claimed ‘missing’. If you’d like to come in and file a full report, we’ll do all that we can.”
“Fuck you,” I said.
“Excuse me? I understand you’re upset, Mrs. Andrews, but…”
I dropped the phone on him again. It was becoming a habit. There was no way I was going to let that woman get further away with my kids than she already was. My mind raced and my palms were sweating. The feeling of helplessness pawed at my insides like a cat with a ball of yarn. The needle read one eighth of a tank so I pulled the car into the nearest gas station to fill up and continue my search. The numbers rolled on the pump and I sang in my head along with their mechanical rhythm.
Blue minivan. Blue Chrysler minivan. Blue Minivan. There’s a blue…
Chrysler minivan across the street. It sat fat and bloated in a driveway just three blocks down from the Sunshine and Smiles Daycare. It was right across the street from the Speedway where I was fueling up. Excellent police work, assholes.
