Bringing Maddie Home

by Janice Kay Johnson

  The reminder filled him with fresh wonder. Damn, only a few weeks ago he’d feared those bones were Maddie’s, and now here she was. He stole another glance at her to see that she was staring straight ahead, deep in thought. It was disconcerting to realize he didn’t think of her as Maddie most of the time. He’d had lunch with Nell. Held Nell in his arms.

  It was Nell Smith who wore sexy bras, not sad-eyed, teenage Maddie. He’d never thought of Maddie that way, and he was having trouble thinking of Nell in any other way.

  But Nell Smith was often sad-eyed, too.

  And, hell, if he were confused, what must she be feeling?

  He parked close to the trail Maddie had been taking that night. Several familiar vehicles were parked not far ahead, belonging to the crime scene crew and detectives who had resumed work a few hundred yards away.

  So damn close to where Maddie had been snatched, he thought again. So close, he had trouble believing it to be coincidental. Unless, of course, Duane was right when he wondered if there weren’t other bodies buried here beneath these old pines.

  He turned off the engine and in the silence, Nell didn’t move. All she did was stare at the forest that incongruously survived between a housing development and the road. Colin stayed where he was, waiting. They were doing this her way. He wasn’t in such a hurry that there was reason to push.

  At last she sighed and reached for the handle. “I’m glad it’s daylight.”

  “You wouldn’t be able to see much in the dark.” Better than telling her the damn place was haunted at night.

  By the time he got out, locked and reached her, she had tucked her hands in the pockets of a fleece vest and was eyeing the bulldozed road that led to the clearing where the trees had been taken out.

  “Some of the trees were infested with pine beetles,” he explained. “The park department is having the sick ones removed in hopes of saving the rest. Bulldozers have made a real mess.”

  She only nodded.

  “This way,” he said quietly, and led her to the narrow path used by kids. Easy to miss if you didn’t know it was there. The ground was soggy and the undergrowth wet until they got under the trees. The peeling red bark of madrona added color against the brown boles of the ancient pines. White berries clung to some arching branches of snowberry bushes. That night twelve years ago had been dry, but otherwise he was looking at nearly an identical scene.

  Nell kept up with him, her head turning as she took it all in. He couldn’t tell whether she didn’t remember a thing, or was keeping whatever she felt tucked deep.

  He’d seen a lot of crime scenes in the intervening years. He shouldn’t remember this one as well as he did. He should have had to work to orient himself instead of being able to stop in the exact same spot he’d been that night when his flashlight glanced off metal.

  “Here,” he said, stopping. “Your bike was about there.” He pointed, remembering how deep the handlebar was dug into the soil and the chill that gave him. “There was some scuffing, but not clear footprints.” He crouched. “I think the blood was about here. Your wallet had fallen a ways in that direction.” He nodded toward the clump of low green ceanothus.

  Nell was a statue. Staring. It was a long time before she even blinked. Alarmed, he slowly rose to his feet. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  “It’s creepy here,” she whispered, as if someone might be listening.

  He glanced around, wondering if kids who still used this path had ever even heard about the girl who was abducted. If their parents had told them, warned them away from the park, did they feel a little thrill when they pedaled furiously through, defying those warnings? Maybe stories of Maddie had added some horror-movie excitement to teenage keggers.

  The thought sickened him.

  “It sure as hell was that night. Teenagers party here in the park sometimes. That’s what I expected to find. But I knew as soon as I got here that I was alone. It was too quiet.”

  Not today, he realized. He could hear chain saws off in the distance. No heavy equipment; the ground might be too wet. There was noise from traffic out on the street, voices muted by distance.

  She shivered. “I don’t remember. I thought I would, but I don’t.”

  Maybe not, but something was stirring uneasily in her head. She could be spooked only because she knew this was where it had happened, but the way her gaze darted around seemed extreme. He wondered if she’d stopped that night and heard a noise. That was what she looked like right now—as if she wanted to run but didn’t know which direction.

  His gloved hand closed over hers. “It was a long shot.”

  “You said I was unlikely to remember.”

  “I couldn’t be sure, but whatever happened here caused the memory loss. You know, it was bad. There was enough blood to scare the crap out of me.”

  He had purposely tried to sound rueful. Her big brown eyes fastened on his face, and after a moment she almost smiled. The tension in her body eased. She made no effort to retrieve her hand from his.

  “How old were you?”

  “Twenty-two, only two months on the job. The car accidents I’d dealt with to that point were fender benders—I’d broken up keggers, arrested shoplifters.” He didn’t mention the domestic violence. Those calls had gotten to him, but not surprised him. “I hadn’t seen anything really ugly yet. Later...” He stopped. Two or three years later, would he have reacted the same to the scene of Maddie’s abduction, the face looking up at him from the driver’s permit?

  “You were a kid yourself,” she murmured.

  Colin huffed out a brief laugh. “Yeah, I guess I was. Although I wouldn’t have appreciated you saying so then.”

  Her lips definitely curved, but failed to soften the stark lines of her face. She shivered again.

  “You’re cold,” he said, but she shook her head.

  “No. Oh, I guess a little. Mostly...” She pulled in a deep breath. “It’s that same feeling I had last night, when Emily told me about Beck. As if a ghost brushed by me.” She tried for a smile. “Predictable, I guess. I expected to feel something. You know?”

  “I do know.” Although it meant letting go of her hand, he pulled her to him. Not a good idea, but she looked so damn vulnerable, she got to him.

  For a moment, Nell was stiff, but then with a sigh she let herself lean, even wrapping her arms around his waist. The scent of her shampoo, of her, filled his nostrils, overriding the smell of pine and snow. Even with their bulky winter garments, she felt good against him. He laid his cheek against her head and closed his eyes. Some of his own frustration and tension eased. Hating the thought of letting her go, it was a long time before he spoke.

  “You had enough?” he murmured at last.

  She tensed, gathering herself. “I think so.” Her arms dropped to her sides and she stepped back. That shyness was in her eyes again, but only until she turned her head, shivered again, then turned resolutely to start back.

  Following her, he had no trouble deciding to skip a visit to the scene where bones were being retrieved. He didn’t have any good excuse to visit anyway. He’d be told if anything important was found.

  He and Nell had emerged from the trees and he’d just hit the remote to unlock doors when he heard someone call, “Captain?”

  Jane Vahalik hurried toward him. Seeing her suppressed excitement, he went to meet her.

  “Were you stopping by?” she asked.

  “No.” They’d met halfway between vehicles. “Should I be?”

  She flashed a triumphant grin. “We found something good.” Her gaze went past him and narrowed in interest. “Is that Maddie Dubeau?”

  He turned to see that Nell had followed, but hung back a good fifteen feet, as if being careful not to intrude. “Yeah, this is Maddie. I was showing her...” He jerked his head toward the wo
ods.

  Vahalik’s eyes widened and a soft “oh” emerged.

  “Maddie,” he said, “come meet one of my detectives.”

  Searching his face and then Jane’s, she approached. Her “hi” was soft.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Vahalik said. “You’ve made us all believe in happy endings.”

  Nell smiled more genuinely than she had back in the woods. “I’m glad if my miraculous return inspired you. Um, you must have business. I’ll wait for you....”

  He took her arm. “No, it’s okay. What’s up, Jane?”

  “We found a backpack.” Her voice was electrified.

  “You’re sure it’s his?”

  “Can’t be a hundred percent, but yeah. We found, er...” She apparently remembered Nell’s presence. “Some more remains with it.”

  “Bones,” he clarified, not wanting Nell to imagine anything more gruesome. He couldn’t remember if he’d told her during one of those phone conversations about the discovery here in the park.

  “Ribs and clavicle. I wish it wasn’t so slow,” Vahalik said in exasperation. “We don’t dare work faster, though.”

  Speed shouldn’t matter. This victim had died a long time ago. He knew this edgy feeling in his gut was there only because of the location of this grave site.

  Nell was listening—wide-eyed, he saw—and he knew he’d have to explain. For now, he focused his attention on Vahalik.

  “Nothing to identify him yet?”

  She shook her head. “It’s a day pack, and in better shape than you’d expect.” She shrugged. “Synthetic fabric. The kind of stuff that plugs up our landfills, but lucky for us. Canvas would have rotted into nothing but rusted metal buckles. This—” her grin broke free again “—protected the contents. It’s all congealed into a giant glob right now, but Linda says she has her ways.” Linda Nishimura was a gifted crime scene tech Colin had so far persuaded to stay in Angel Butte. “I could tell there was a wad of papers. If she can dry it enough to peel layers back...”

  “Hail Mary.” Damn, he couldn’t help grinning, too. “She’s taking it back to the lab?”

  “Yes, leaving the rest of us to our labors.”

  “Excellent.”

  “I was just going to grab a thermos of coffee,” she said, waving toward the GMC Yukon he knew she drove.

  He nodded. “Good job.” Nell was still watching Jane when he turned back to her.

  “She’s a detective? She seems young.”

  “Not so young. Close to my age, I think.” He grunted. “We’re so shorthanded, we’re promoting guys who barely shave to detective. You should see her current trainee.”

  “You told me how worried you are about not being able to boost hiring after the annexation.” She frowned as they started back to his 4Runner. “Which part was annexed?”

  He’d forgotten how much he’d talked about during those lengthy phone conversations. “We doubled the size of Angel Butte. The business strip with the Walmart and the Staples and the Home Depot and all the rest of it was county. Now it’s ours. There’d been a lot of residential construction beyond the city limits, too. I told you how the area has boomed. All that’s our responsibility now, too.”

  “Did the city council not realize how much the extra services would cost?”

  The throbbing in his right temple was becoming an unavoidable response to a subject that infuriated him.

  “No, I don’t think they did do the planning they should have. They were relieved when Chief Bystrom assured them the department could handle the additional patrols. The city council loves their police chief.” By the end, he sounded as if he were chewing on a porous pierce of cinder. His mouth tasted as if he had, too.

  His movements were jerky when he opened the passenger-side door for Nell.

  “So he implied you were overstaffed before,” she said thoughtfully. “That must make him pretty unpopular with the rank and file in the department.”

  “That’s safe to say.” And even more unpopular with the two captains who spent more time with their fingers stuck in holes in the dike than they did doing the job they’d been hired for.

  She waited until he got in and started the engine. “Do you have a plan?” she asked.

  Startled, he turned his head, meeting her level gaze. Yeah, she knew what she was asking.

  “You mean, how I’m going to get rid of him?” Dangerous words. Even he and Brian Cooper, his counterpart who headed Patrol, left their hopes unspoken. The decision to trust Nell didn’t take a split second. “I’m working on it,” he said.

  Nell stayed quiet for most of the drive. He was glad; it was better to put off talking about the partial skeleton found in the park.

  A few minutes later, he left her at her car. She promised to be careful. Colin refrained from ordering her to report to him tonight when she got home from her parents’. If Duane were to be there, would he offer to follow her home? That could be good—but Colin was still reluctant to tell anyone where she was staying, including her family.

  He hoped she knew he was available if she needed him. But giving himself a little space to figure out what he felt seemed smart right now.

  Smart maybe, but he had a bad feeling that tonight, as soon as he heard her coming home, he’d be standing at his front window willing her to head for his front door.

  * * *

  NELL STARED IN shock at the man who descended her parents’ porch steps in one bound and loped to meet her. “Felix?”

  A huge smile dominated his thin face. “Maddie. It’s really you.” He snatched her into his arms and swung her in a circle. When he set her back down, she saw that his dark eyes were wet.

  She tried to smile through her own tears. “You couldn’t have done that the last time I saw you.”

  He swiped at his eyes, but laughed, too. “I was twelve. And—what?—five feet tall?”

  “Skinny, too.” Such joy rose in her, she felt as if she might levitate. “I remember you. Oh, my God. I do.”

  “I hope it’s the good brother you remember and not the brat.”

  She laughed. “Of course it is!” She sobered. “Felix. You came.”

  He mock-scowled. “What, you didn’t think I would?”

  “No, I just...I didn’t think,” she admitted meekly. “I was going to call you, but, oh, these past few days have been really overwhelming.”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I can’t really imagine.” His eyebrows twitched. “Mom’s at the door.”

  Nell found his tone more than interesting. He sounded uncomfortable. As though...well, she didn’t know.

  “Did Uncle Duane come?” she asked.

  He looked surprised. “No. Was he supposed to?”

  Her mother did kiss her cheek. Her father actually hugged her, once they reached the living room. Were they putting on a pretense for Felix’s sake, or actually relaxing into acceptance that she was home? But she lacked the context memories would have given her. Felix had turned out handsome. He was lean, dark and, she suspected, could look wickedly sexy when he tried. All the pictures that filled her head were of a funny, mischievous, affectionate boy. What she couldn’t understand was how he could be so open and good-humored while even as a child she had apparently been withdrawn and lacking in confidence.

  Over dinner, her father was expansive, talking about the resort and the economic growth of the city and even touching on politics.

  “You don’t like the new mayor?” Felix asked.

  Marc waggled one hand. “Can’t tell yet. At least he cut the damn ponytail off.”

  Nell blinked. “A ponytail? The mayor?”

  Helen gave her husband a repressive look. “He had that when he first moved to Angel Butte and opened a brew pub. He was always very neat.”

  “
Yeah, his hair wasn’t that long. Just kind of a stubby ponytail.” Felix grinned. “I remember him. It looked good. I thought of growing my hair.”

  Helen gave him a fond look. “Don’t tease your father.”

  The expression made Nell want to shrivel inside herself. That’s what I did then, she thought. The good little girl, always trying to please her parents. If she’d stuck around, would she have decided to flout them by becoming a wild teenager? She couldn’t quite picture it—but then there was Beck, the boyfriend who might have been a school dropout and who she certainly hadn’t introduced to her parents. Her opening act of defiance?

  After dinner, she asked if she could see her bedroom. Felix walked her up. He stood in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets, one shoulder propped against the frame, as she stepped through a time portal.

  It was a young girl’s room, not a teenager’s. There were no posters of rock stars or actors on the walls. In fact, there were no posters at all. The twin bed had a white eyelet canopy as crisp as if it had been washed and starched yesterday. The desk and dresser were painted white with gilt trim and elaborate handles. A few stuffed animals and dolls reposed atop the dresser. The only thing that made her think this really could have been her bedroom was a bookcase painted to match the rest of the furniture but stuffed with books. She crouched in front of it and ran her fingers over the spines. It was a hodgepodge: children’s books, young adult and some adult. Dickens. She smiled shakily. Mrs. Chisholm was responsible for her Dickens phase.

  Finally standing again, she faced her brother. “Is this really what my room looked like then?”

  “Messier,” he said. “Not bad, because Mom was so anal.” He grimaced. “Is so anal. You had a computer. I guess they got rid of that.”

  “It would have been a little dated by now.”

  He laughed. “No kidding. Um. There was a bulletin board. We weren’t allowed to ruin the walls by sticking thumbtacks in or using tape.”

  She rotated until she was looking at the desk. “There, right over the desk.”