by Diane Hoh
But I’d only been walking for twenty minutes or so when my right foot slipped into a burrow in the snow and I broke my ankle trying to get my leg out.
I had to sit there on the ground, crying in bitter frustration, until the old lady came and got me, clucking her tongue and pretending all I’d done was go out to play in the snow.
I fainted when she set my ankle.
She didn’t have to worry about me trying it again anytime soon. She’d done a good job with the ankle, which is why I don’t limp, but I couldn’t walk on it for a long time.
I was fifteen before I tried again.
This time I waited until summer, and I did think seriously about taking the truck again. But it was on its last legs by then, and I was afraid I’d get only so far and then it would die and I’d be stranded. Besides, the woman still had the shortwave radio. If I took the truck, she’d notice too quickly that I was gone, and get on that radio and call the state police. Of course, she’d have had some explaining to do about who I was. No one in town knew she had anyone living with her.
So I would have taken the truck and let the police pick me up and then I would have told them who I really was, except for one thing. I no longer remembered who I really was. I couldn’t remember my real name, first or last, and I didn’t know the name of the town I’d lived in before the cabin in the woods. I tried and I tried, but it was all gone, so much so that sometimes I actually wondered if I’d dreamed the whole thing and the old lady really was the only mother I’d ever had.
No, I knew that wasn’t true. She wasn’t. She couldn’t be. No way.
Besides, I had proof that I had once been someone else. And I planned to take that proof with me. It wouldn’t mean anything to anyone except my family. A policeman wouldn’t be impressed. But my parents, even my hated, treacherous sibling would know, when they saw it.
How did I expect to find my real family if I couldn’t remember anything about them?
I don’t know how I expected to do it. I only knew that I would.
I was all ready to go on that hot summer night. But this time I was going to wait until she was asleep for the night. She slept deeply, sometimes snoring so loudly that I couldn’t sleep. If I left shortly after she fell asleep, I’d have hours of travel time in before she awoke at dawn the next morning.
While she took her evening nap, I packed a few sandwiches and a couple of apples from the six spindly trees out back. I didn’t want to be weighted down with anything else. The only other thing I took was the single piece of proof that I hadn’t been born to the old woman, that I had once been some other woman’s child.
I waited until I was sure she was asleep. Then I tiptoed to the door and was just about to open it when I heard a really weird sound from the bedroom. A kind of gasp-sighing noise. There was something about it … I knew something was wrong even before I went in there and looked at her face and saw that she had died. Even before I checked and found that she wasn’t breathing, I knew. I don’t know how. I’d never seen anyone die before. I just knew.
Dead! Just like that. She wasn’t even sick. And I hadn’t thought she was that old.
But she hadn’t had an easy life.
I didn’t know what to do. No one knew about me. We didn’t have a telephone and she had never taught me how to use the radio.
I decided I didn’t owe her anything. If anything, it was the other way around. She owed me for the life she’d taken away from me. A good life. A happy life.
Sooner or later, someone from town would wonder where she was and come looking for her.
So I just left.
But before I did, I searched the cabin thoroughly. I needed money. Couldn’t get very far without money, and I was only fifteen, not old enough to get a real job.
I did find some money. A packet of bills rolled up and tied with a rubber band, hidden in a cookie jar in the kitchen. It wasn’t a ton of money, but it was better than nothing.
And I found something else in my search. Newspaper articles, under a loose floorboard in the bedroom. I’d never seen a newspaper in the cabin, so she had to have bought the papers in town, read them in the truck, and then sneaked them into the house and buried them under the loose board when I wasn’t around.
I knew why she’d kept them. They were about me. About my kidnapping. Stories about how I’d been taken, and how my parents were “distraught” with grief and worry. “Distraught”? That made it sound like they’d cared.
If they’d cared so much, why had they quit looking for me?
When I had read all of the dozen or so newspaper articles, I knew what my real name was, and where I had lived before the cabin. It was all there, in yellowed black and white, including the name of my sibling.
An article dated approximately a year later carried a photograph of the three of them, sitting in front of a house I didn’t recognize. The heading under the picture read, FAMILY OF KIDNAPPED CHILD MAKES NEW START. The story told about them moving to a new town, a new house, in an effort to “start over.”
All three of them were smiling.
So they had cared. They’d been “distraught.”
But they had stopped looking for me. Moved away and made a “new start.”
They had loved me once, at least I knew that now. But there was that other child. At some point in their searching, they had decided to give up and devote themselves to the child they still had.
Everything that had happened to me was that child’s fault.
I felt like I was on fire with rage, reading those clippings, being reminded of what I had lost, and why I had lost it.
What a wonderful life that other child must have had all these years. A life very like the ones in the books I read. A perfect, happy life with two adoring parents.
The life that should have been mine.
It took me a long time to make my way to where my sibling was. Along the way I learned many, many things about life. Everything was new and foreign to me. Much of the time, I felt like a visitor from another planet. But I kept going. Because I had to. And I kept reading because I knew that I had so much to learn if I didn’t want people to keep looking at me in that inquisitive way whenever I did or said the wrong thing.
And finally, finally, just when I was so tired and felt so hopeless that I thought I couldn’t go on, I found the town and I found the house.
But I also found that my parents were both dead. That was a bitter pill to swallow, let me tell you. Knowing that after all I’d been through, I would never, ever have the chance to see them again, ask them why they’d stopped looking, ask them why they had moved away to start a new life when for all they knew, I might have come back to that house looking for them one day.
But the sibling wasn’t dead. The sibling was very much alive.
And I knew where.
The next day, I was on my way.
“You’re bored? You don’t like my story. Well, I didn’t like it much, either. You don’t have anything to do? Here, you can play with this. It’s mine, but I don’t mind. Just be careful with it, okay? It’s very old.”
“It’s yucky! It’s all dirty, and it’s stinky.”
“You can go into the bathroom and give it a bath in the sink if you want. Just don’t make a mess, okay?”
“Okay.”
Yes, I was on my way again. And this time, I didn’t plan to stop until I found the person who had been living, all these years, the life I should have been living.
And here I am.
Chapter 18
“IT WAS A FALSE alarm,” Reardon told Nora as he and Amy entered the house. He stopped short then, his eyes on her neck. “What happened to your throat, Nora?”
Ignoring the question, she said, her voice heavy with disappointment, “Someone called and lied about where Mindy was? Why would they do that?”
“Well, now that I see those bruises on your neck,” Reardon said as Nora led the way down the hall to the kitchen, “I think maybe it had something to do with you. You didn
’t leave the house, did you? You promised you wouldn’t.”
“No, I didn’t leave the house. Not exactly.” Nora was bitterly disappointed by their news. Mindy was still missing? It wasn’t over yet?
And if Mindy wasn’t safe yet, neither was Nora.
“Not exactly? What does that mean? And what happened to your migraine?” But Reardon didn’t seem angry. He must have realized that she’d invented the migraine, and why, and had decided to forgive her for her phony comment about his inability to protect her. He knew now that she hadn’t meant it.
“I got lucky. It went away.” The only way she was going to find out anything about the cruel hoax played on all of them was to tell them what had happened to her in the back yard. Reardon wouldn’t answer any of her questions until she’d answered his.
She told them what had happened, her voice hoarse, one hand gently rubbing her raw throat as she talked.
“I knew I shouldn’t have left!” Reardon shouted in exasperation. “And you,” to Nora, “you should have known better than to go outside.” Then he calmed down. “But that explains the phone call saying Mindy was at the house on Fourth Street.”
Nora frowned. “Explains it how?”
“With everyone dispatched to Twin Falls, there’d be no one left to get in his way here, right?”
Amy and Nora let that sink in. Then Amy asked, “You think it was him? The kidnapper? If it was, why didn’t he kill her when he had the chance?”
“He isn’t ready,” Nora answered in a matter-of-fact voice that belied her screaming nerves. “I shouldn’t have been able to get away from him this time. He let me go. Just gave up when I ran. I thought about that for a while, and the only answer I could come up with was that he’s just not ready to finish me off.” She looked at both of them with grave eyes. “But I still think he’s going to. He’s just having fun first.”
“Do you have any idea why?” Reardon asked, pulling a small notebook from his chest pocket.
Nora shook her head. “No. I don’t have a clue.”
“A clue,” he muttered, replacing the notebook, “that’s what we need, a clue. Any clue. There were no fingerprints on the sneaker, none on the box of clippings, the ground’s too dry for any footprints, and you didn’t recognize the voice you heard.”
They sat at the table in glum silence. Outside, the sun had disappeared and the wind had picked up. Nora sensed impending rain in the air.
“There wasn’t any sign of Mindy at that house?”
Reardon shook his head. “It’s abandoned. The neighbors say no one’s lived there for over a year. They haven’t seen anyone going in or coming out, so Mindy was never there. It was a hoax, that’s all. Captain thinks it was a crank, but now that I’ve heard about the attack on you outside, I’d say it wasn’t a crank at all. I’d better go call in.”
“You’re going to leave us here alone?” Amy cried in alarm, her eyes flying to the back door as if she expected Nora’s attacker to be standing there.
“He’s just going to the phone, Amy,” Nora said, near tears because Mindy hadn’t been in Twin Falls and no one had any idea where she might be. “He’s not leaving the house.”
“How can you be so calm?” Amy hissed when Reardon had moved on down the hall toward the telephone. “After what happened to you! When you didn’t answer my phone call, I got really nervous. You’ve been pretty shaky lately. I was afraid you’d done something really stupid, like go to the day care center alone. Going outside alone is almost as bad,” she added disapprovingly. “You could have been killed!”
“Why would I go to the day care center?” Nora asked bitterly. “There isn’t anything to celebrate, is there?”
“No,” Amy admitted reluctantly. “But you didn’t know that.”
“Where are Sabra and Fitz? Where’s Lucas? Why aren’t they with you?”
“The search is still continuing, Nora. No one’s giving up. Sabra was going with one team to search all those little rooms at the top of the university tower, and Fitz was headed for the caves on the other side of that old railroad bridge behind campus with another team. Lucas went home. He said he was exhausted.” Amy sighed heavily. “Everyone is. I have to go, too, Nora. My team’s searching the woods.”
The distant rumble of thunder echoed behind the house. This time, Nora was certain, it meant rain. That would make it so much harder to find a little girl in the woods, if that was where Mindy was.
“You’d better get going then,” Nora said, although she hated the idea. She wanted Amy to stay. It was comforting, having another girl, a friend, in the house. She hadn’t had a good, close friend in a long time. And as long as Amy’s car was parked out front, maybe he wouldn’t come back.
Amy left, saying once again that she’d call the minute she had good news, and Reardon returned. His expression was grim.
“I don’t like this,” he said apologetically, “but I’ve been ordered to make sure the house is secure and then station myself in my unit outside to keep an eye on the place. Instead of waiting in here with you.”
“You have to leave?” Nora asked, her heart sinking. Amy had gone, and now Reardon was leaving the house?
“Well, I’ll be right outside. In front.”
“He came around the back of the house this last time,” she reminded him. “You won’t see him if he does it again. He could come up the hill, through the woods, and through the back door, and you wouldn’t even know it.”
“It’s locked, right?” He moved swiftly to the door to check the lock. “There!” he declared heartily, turning around again. “He can’t get in. He’d make so much noise trying to open the door, you’d hear him and come out and get me, right?”
Nora didn’t like it, not one bit. Why couldn’t he wait in the house with her? She’d feel much safer. “I’ll sit in the car with you.”
“Nope. Not allowed. Sorry. And the thing is,” his eyes avoiding hers, “I think the captain is sort of hoping the guy will show up, know what I mean? I think the idea is for me to stop him before he gets inside. And I’ll do that. You don’t have to worry. And catching this guy is the only way this is going to end for you, Nora.”
Oh, no, Nora thought instinctively, it’s not the only way it can end for me. He could slip by you, Reardon, and get to me first. Then it could end in a very different way.
They stood facing each other, feeling the uneasiness between them but each aware that they had no choice.
“Look,” he said awkwardly, his eyes on her face, “I’m on duty here, so I need to be careful about what I say and do. But I need to know that you know I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? You got that?”
She nodded. “Got that.” She knew he meant that he didn’t want anything bad to happen to her. But he suddenly looked so young, so sweet, that she couldn’t help adding, “Is your captain sending other officers?”
His face fell.
“All I meant,” she amended hastily, “was that this is such a big place for one person to keep any eye on. The house is huge, and then there’s the barn and the garage apartment …”
“We searched those,” he said stiffly. “They’re secured.”
Nora bristled. This was her life she was trying to protect. “They were secured. They haven’t been checked out in a while. Aren’t you supposed to call for back-up or something, like they do on television?”
“That’s only when you’re ready to apprehend a criminal, Nora. We don’t even know that he’s still around here.”
I know it, Nora thought, her hands so cold with fear, she couldn’t feel her fingers. I know he’s still here. Somewhere. Waiting to finish me off.
Having Jonah Reardon outside in his car was better than nothing. And he could use his car radio to keep checking every few minutes to see if there was any word on Mindy.
The strained atmosphere between them didn’t ease after he had searched the house once more. When he left, all he said was, “I’ll be right outside. Lock the door behind me, okay?”
“Jonah …”
He turned, his face impassive. “What?”
“I didn’t mean,” Nora said quietly, “that I didn’t trust you to handle things. If it wasn’t such a big place …”
“Yeah, right.” He went out and closed the door.
Nora locked it behind him. She’d have to fix things with him later. This wasn’t the time. All she cared about now was having Mindy found before another long, long night passed.
That’s not really all you care about, her brain said. You care about staying alive, too.
But she had Reardon, even if he wasn’t inside the house. Who did Mindy have to look after her, wherever she was?
Where was she?
As if in answer to her question, the phone shrilled.
Nora ran over and picked it up.
“The garage apartment,” a voice whispered loudly in her ear. “And don’t bring the cop. If you ever want to see Mindy Donner alive again, sneak out the back way, go through the woods, and come up behind the garage. Do not let him see you. Not if you want him to stay alive. I mean what I say, Nora.”
Click.
Chapter 19
NORA SLOWLY REPLACED THE receiver.
She knew exactly what she should do. She should dash outside to Reardon’s car and rap on the window, shout at him to run to the garage apartment and get Mindy.
Maybe Mindy wasn’t even there, just as she hadn’t been in the house on Fourth Street. But if she was in that apartment and her captor saw a policeman getting out of his car and running toward the garage, something terrible could happen to her. Something deadly.
I have to go alone, Nora decided, her stomach churning violently. I have to. Maybe Mindy isn’t there at all. But if she is, she deserves a chance. She’ll have no chance at all if the kidnapper sees a police uniform approaching. And once I’m inside, if she really is there, I’ll think of some way to get her out safely.
