Shadow Falls

by Wendy Dranfield

  He finds the small pet section and looks for a ball. There’s only one. It’s plastic, and when he squeezes it, it makes a high-pitched crying sound. He wonders whether that’s too immature for a police dog, but there isn’t much choice. He grabs some sandwiches and drinks for himself and Madison, then looks at the cooked meat section, settling on a pack of pre-cooked hot-dog sausages. He finds himself wondering again how different K9s are to pet dogs, and whether he’s meant to treat Brody this way or be stricter. There must’ve been some rules in order to keep the dog focused on law enforcement work.

  He walks over to the cashier, an older lady dressed in an ill-fitting maroon uniform. She’s filing her nails when he places his goods on the decrepit conveyor belt.

  “Did you manage to find everything you wanted today, sir?” she asks, looking him up and down.

  Nate smiles. He didn’t expect customer service in a place like this. She’s wearing a name badge that says: Hi! My name is Betty and I’m here to serve you. There’s another name under hers, crossed out. Presumably a former employee.

  “I did, thanks.”

  She picks up the ball first. “Oh, you have a dog? I love dogs. I have four of the rascals.” She names all four of them as she scans his items, then she tells him the breed and age of each dog and where she got them from. He doesn’t mind listening. It’s all part of building a rapport with the locals. He doesn’t think Madison would be as patient.

  “Dogs are just great, aren’t they?” he says.

  “What have you got?”

  He’s not the dog’s owner but he decides to play along. “We think he’s a husky mix, but we never met his parents. He’s pretty handsome, though. Looks like a wolf.”

  She finishes scanning the last item and runs up the total. “A husky mix, you say? Hmm. My girl would probably like him. You ever offer him as a stud? Marmalade—the Rottweiler—is on heat right now and I know she’d love some action. She’s a little overweight, so he’d have to be good at climbing.”

  Nate tries to think how a Rottweiler–husky puppy might look, but he can’t get his head around the combination. “I don’t know if he’d be able to perform on demand, to be honest.”

  She nods. “Yeah, men are a bit like that. They talk a good talk, but once someone demands something from them, they can’t get it up.” She winks at him.

  He laughs. The old guy from the fruit section joins them, and Nate notices he didn’t pick a melon in the end.

  “What are you two laughing about?” he asks. He turns to Nate. “Bryan Goodfellow.”

  Nate shakes his hand. “Nate Monroe. Betty was just telling me about her dogs.”

  Bryan rolls his eyes. “Do you ever talk of anything else, Betty?”

  She waves his comment away and ignores him. Clearly they know each other well.

  “What brings you to our neck of the woods, Mr. Monroe?” asks Bryan.

  Nate thinks about lying, but he’d guess old-timers like these two would see right through him, and he has nothing to hide. “I’m here looking for information about the young girl who went missing from Camp Fearless.”

  Bryan and Betty share a look. Bryan says, “You a cop?”

  “No, an investigator hired by her family. They just want their daughter back.”

  Bryan chews the inside of his mouth for a minute, like he’s thinking hard about whether to say something. “You know there’s talk around town of Josh Sanders being involved. You met him yet?”

  “Yeah. I’ve spent some time up at the camp. I happen to know for a fact that he doesn’t have Jennifer Lucas, though. I can see why he was a good suspect, but he was busy doing something else that night.”

  Bryan looks at him. “I suppose you can’t tell us what he was doing?”

  “Afraid not. But I need another suspect. Did either of you notice anyone different in town the day before or after Jenny’s disappearance?”

  Betty laughs. “We don’t get that many outsiders because we have no decent through road. The only time we see anyone new is when summer starts and the parents are dropping off their kids. Then again when they collect ’em at the end of the season.”

  Nate nods. That’s about what he expected.

  “Mr. Andrews, my boss, gave our security footage to the police,” she continues. “They never did return those memory sticks, though. He had to buy a new stash and they’re not cheap.”

  Nate’s surprised that a place like this would have security cameras. He’d like to get a hold of that footage, but he knows Morgan won’t want him to have it. “Do you know if the footage automatically backs up online, Betty?”

  She nods. “Yeah.”

  “Do you know how to download it?”

  “Well, sure. Mr. Andrews has written instructions in his office in case he ever needs to access it. His memory’s not too great these days, so he writes everything down.”

  Nate doesn’t expect to find anything in the footage, because the police would’ve acted on it by now, but he still needs to check it for his own peace of mind. “Do you think you could let me watch some of it?”

  Betty looks at Bryan, who says, “Why not? If it might help find the poor child.”

  “Okay then.” She looks at her watch. “We normally shut at eight, but I guess I could close up an hour early. It’s not like anyone would notice.”

  Nate smiles, not believing his luck. “That would be great.”

  Forty-Eight

  Madison decides to start with the hair salon, where the two stylists take an instant dislike to her for no apparent reason. She can’t help wondering when she lost her people skills. Maybe while she was in prison. All she did was ask whether anyone knew who the local pedophiles were. Turns out some people don’t want to believe they have sex offenders in their midst. She wouldn’t be surprised if either of them was married to one and covering up for them.

  After receiving a frosty reception there, she decides to try the library. After all, librarians should be the font of all knowledge about a town, and they probably see a good mixture of locals on a regular basis. She crosses the road, pushes open the large oak door and walks into a musty-smelling building. There are few windows, making it dark, and she wonders if that’s to preserve the books from the damaging effects of sunlight. At least it’s cool and dry in here.

  She walks up to the borrowing desk expecting to find a little old lady behind it, and is surprised when she sees a male sitting in front of a computer monitor. He looks up at her and smiles. He’s a bit younger than her—early thirties, she’d guess—and is wearing the kind of glasses Clark Kent wears. He looks geeky but is attractive with it. She can’t help thinking his good looks are wasted in a place like this.

  “Hi, I’m Madison.” She holds her hand out and the guy stands up to shake it.

  “I’m Clark.”

  She laughs. “No way!”

  He looks bemused. “Afraid so. What’s so funny?”

  “Sorry.” She’s embarrassed. “I was just thinking how your glasses made you look like Clark Kent.”

  He laughs. “If you say so. I don’t turn into Superman, though, I’m afraid. Are you here for a particular book?”

  She looks around to hide her red cheeks. “No, I’m actually here to figure out what happened to Jennifer Lucas.” She turns back to him for his reaction. There is none.

  “Do you have a badge?”

  That’s a strange question for him to ask right off the bat. Why did he not assume she was a friend of the family, or a reporter? “No, I’m not a cop. I’m an investigator. Jenny’s family asked us to look into her disappearance because she’s been gone for over two weeks now. We just want to give them some closure. I’m sure you understand.”

  He nods. “Of course. It must be terrible for them, but I really don’t know how I can help you. I mean, I didn’t know Jenny or her family. I gather they’re not from around here.”

  She leans on the desk. “They’re not. I just assumed that since librarians know everything about a place, you
might be able to tell me what people are saying about her disappearance. Perhaps the finger of blame is being pointed in a particular direction that I could look into?”

  He looks uncomfortable and removes his glasses. He’s still attractive without them. “Of course people talk, but that’s because everyone loves crime shows these days, so everyone wants to solve the case before the police.”

  She nods. “That’s understandable. What about you? What do you think happened to her?”

  He sits back down but maintains eye contact. “I haven’t been following the case so I can’t even guess. I just hope she’s found alive. And if not, well, then I hope it was an accident and not something more sinister. If that camp closes, it’s bad news for the town. We’re already struggling to keep our heads above water financially.”

  She wonders why he stays here knowing that. What could possibly keep someone of his age in a town like Shadow Falls? She looks to his ring finger, but it’s bare. He’s not married but he could have a partner. Or maybe he’s single. She thinks about all the single guys she’s arrested in her career who turned out to be interested in kids. There weren’t half as many of them as there were married men. “I assume the local police searched all the businesses and addresses around here when she first went missing?”

  He thinks about it. “Well if they did, they didn’t come here.”

  She’s surprised. She’s starting to believe Detective Morgan is incompetent. “No? Could it have happened on your day off?”

  He laughs. “I don’t get a day off. I run this place single-handed, and as I live upstairs, I work down here even when the library’s not open.”

  “What do you work on?”

  “I’m writing a book.”

  She raises her eyebrows. “Really? What about?”

  He looks uncomfortable, but that’s not unusual. She’s seen famous authors squirm when asked the same question. For some reason, writers like to keep their cards close to their chest.

  “If I knew that, it would be going a lot smoother.”

  She smiles. “Has this library got a kids’ section?”

  “Sure. Just over there.” He points behind her left shoulder.

  She can see a large display of paintings and drawings above some shelves of colorful books. “Mind if I take a look?”

  “Not at all. You won’t be able to borrow any books without a library card, though.”

  She walks over to the corner while he goes back to working at his computer. They only have a small selection of children’s books. If Clark was into kids, he’d probably have a much bigger display, to entice children in. She sometimes hates that she thinks like a cop, because she’s always considering everyone as a suspect. It can ruin potential relationships.

  She looks closely at the paintings and can see that each one has a different name at the bottom. The fourth painting, of a black-caped figure looming over two small babies, is menacing. She wonders why Clark put it up. Surely it would scare the younger kids? Then she notices the name: Jenny. She tries not to gasp. Was this done by Jennifer Lucas? It’s a common enough girl’s name, but this is a really small town.

  Not wanting Clark to know she’s spotted it, she silently snaps a photo on her phone and casually walks toward the exit. “Thanks for your time.”

  He looks up from his computer. “No problem. Good luck with your search.”

  She walks out into the drizzle. She needs to find Nate.

  Forty-Nine

  The only person Nate recognizes in the store’s security footage is Donna Gleeson, the camp director. Betty and Bryan help name the other few patrons that day, all locals.

  “You seen enough?” asks Betty.

  He’s about to say yes when he sees Donna accidentally drop some of her items and raise her hands in exasperation. She’s clearly angry. “What happened there?”

  Betty slips her glasses back on and squints at the computer monitor. “Oh, she was having a real bad day. She dropped a carton of milk and it went everywhere. She didn’t even offer to help me clean it up. In fact she yelled at me instead.”

  “Why’d she yell at you?” asks Bryan.

  “Because the milk went all over her shoes and she said they were ruined. She was a pain in the ass that day.”

  “Is she always like that?” asks Nate.

  Betty stands up straight. “When she first moved here last year she was friendly enough, but the longer she’s worked at that camp the angrier she’s got. She never stops to pass the time of day with me anymore. She’s just in and out, usually with a scowl on her face.” She leans in to the computer again. “You know, I think it might have been that day that her credit card was rejected too.”

  Nate folds his arms. “Why was it declined?”

  “Oh, we don’t get told the reason—something to do with data protection—but if a card’s declined, I’m instructed to cut it in half, and let me tell you, that didn’t go down well at all.”

  Nate is intrigued. There might be something to Donna’s strange behavior. “What happened?”

  “Hit play and watch for yourself.”

  He does. “Is there any sound to go with this?”

  “Nah, Mr. Andrews said that’d cost extra and he wouldn’t need it.”

  Nate nods. That’s fair enough. He’d bet nothing worth listening to usually happens in a town like this. He speeds through as Betty cleans up the milk while Donna waits at the checkout. She’s looking at her cell phone. He slows down when Betty joins her to scan her items and take payment. They all watch as she tries her card. Donna quickly becomes agitated, and Nate can tell she’s raised her voice just from her hand gestures. Then she picks up a basket and throws it across the checkout—not at Betty, just to the right of her.

  “Shit,” says Bryan. “That woman has issues.”

  “I know, right?” says Betty.

  They watch as Donna storms out empty-handed.

  “What did you do with her cut-up card?” asks Nate.

  “Threw it in the trash.”

  “I don’t suppose that trash is still here?”

  Betty looks offended. “Of course not. I empty the trash into the dumpster at the end of every day. The dumpster gets emptied once a week. This was over two weeks ago.”

  Nate stands. “It was worth a try. Thanks for your help, both of you. I appreciate it.”

  Bryan looks at him. “You’re not going to tell us what you’re thinking?”

  Nate laughs. “I think you already know. I need to look a little deeper into Donna’s background and make sure she doesn’t have any violent tendencies around kids.”

  Bryan turns to Betty and raises his eyebrows.

  “But I’m sure she was just having a bad day. We all have them,” says Nate. “And this is strictly confidential. I don’t need the whole town thinking Donna took the missing girl. I just need to rule her out, that’s all. It’s a long stretch between someone having a bad day and hurting a child. You understand?”

  Betty nods. Bryan touches his nose with his finger and winks. “We get what you’re saying. No one will hear anything from me.”

  “No, but I might watch her a bit closer now,” says Betty.

  Nate thanks them again and walks back to the car, where Madison is waiting.

  She looks up from her phone. “I’ve got something to show you.”

  Fifty

  Grant can’t sit still. The small, uncomfortable hospital seats don’t help. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do, but his body is fired up with adrenaline and he just wants to hit a wall. He needs to contain his feelings so as not to upset Anna further. He looks over at her, sitting next to his mother’s bed. She doesn’t look anything like the woman he married fourteen years ago. She’s a ghost of her former self. She doesn’t eat enough anymore. She also doesn’t bother with make-up, and only combs her hair if she’s leaving the house.

  Part of him is glad to see how upset she is about his mother’s death. He knows she never really bonded with Esme, never went t
he extra mile to let her in and become friends. There was a time when it almost happened, but then everything changed and Anna put a wall up and kept her distance emotionally. Unfortunately, that wall didn’t just keep Esme out.

  His mother tried her hardest to be there for them both during their worst times, but she wouldn’t have understood what they were going through. Grant can’t fully comprehend it himself. Just like he can’t comprehend how three of them set out on this journey north and only two of them will arrive. He feels helpless. He wants to go back in time and insist his mom stay home instead. It was stress that killed her. The doctors won’t say that because officially it was a cardiac arrest, but before Jenny disappeared she was happy and healthy, doting on her granddaughter. He can’t believe he’ll never speak to her again.

  Anna catches him looking at her and offers him a weak smile. “I know what you’re thinking, and I don’t blame you.”

  He doesn’t want to get into a fight. He sighs. “What am I thinking?”

  “You’re blaming me for this, aren’t you?”

  He shakes his head, but he can’t go over there to comfort her. His mother is lying on the bed between them, dead for almost an hour. The staff keep coming in to ask if they’re ready to say goodbye, but neither of them is yet. Does he blame Anna for this? If he’s honest, partly. She should have been more concerned about how all this was going to affect someone of his mother’s age. She should have been more caring. Instead she agreed with Esme that they should travel up to the summer camp.

  “This is no one’s fault,” he says unconvincingly. He’s not sure how much more he can put into this marriage. Now that his mom is gone, there’s no one to disappoint if they get divorced. But then he thinks of the baby and looks at Anna again.

  She doesn’t have the expectant-mother glow that she had before. She pulls her cardigan tighter around her, always careful to hide her bump. She doesn’t want anyone to know yet; she said it didn’t seem right. He looks at his mother’s grey face. He’s glad she didn’t know they were expecting a child. She would’ve wanted to celebrate it, despite Jenny being missing, but Anna isn’t ready to acknowledge it publicly. She’s terrified they’ll lose the baby.