She had to go out and look. There was no choice. What else could she do? Call the police and say there was a noise in the yard? She wasn’t even supposed to be in this house and the police knew it. They knew she had been put out. She was trespassing. Get up, she told herself.
Her legs refused to obey her brain’s command. She did not hear the sound again, and she began to tell herself that it really was her imagination. It had not really happened.
And then she had another terrible thought. Noah had been incommunicado all day. What if he had collapsed or had some kind of accident outside in the yard? What if it was Noah? Get up and go out there, she thought. Spurred by the thought that it might be her husband, that he might need her help, she was able to force herself to do it.
She hurried through the first floor of the house, putting on a jacket of Noah’s because she was shivering, and trying to think what she might need outside. She slipped her phone into the jacket pocket. Flashlight, she thought. It was so dark out there. She tried to remember where they kept the flashlights in case of a power outage. Her brain refused to cooperate at first. But as she checked several likely places, she suddenly remembered. The laundry room. She went to the laundry room beside the kitchen and found the flashlights on the shelf above the washer. There were two of them, standing on end beside the tool box. She reached for the largest flashlight. Tool box, she thought. She rummaged in the tool box and took out a hammer, the heaviest one. All right, she thought, wielding the hammer in one hand and the flashlight in the other. Now go.
Front or back door? she wondered. The den was in the front of the house, closer to the front door. But somehow it felt safer to let herself out the back door of the house. She hesitated, took a deep breath, and opened the door off the kitchen. She stepped out into the night.
There was a moon that was nearly full, although it was obscured by dark, scudding clouds. Still, between the moon and the lights of the house, she was able to see the shapes of the trees in the backyard and the strange nighttime shadows that danced in the wind. She edged along the back of the house and around the corner.
She could see down to the front yard although the side yard was much darker than the backyard had been. Nothing seemed to be awry. There was an alley of trees to her left and an unruly hedge along the side of the house. She began to make her way slowly between them. She didn’t want to turn on the flashlight, but it was too dark to make out if there was anything, or anyone concealed by the bushes or the trees.
With shaking hands she snapped on the flashlight, and the beam traveled wildly over the trees and the bushes. There was no sign of anything or anyone. See? she told herself. You’re just imagining things.
But the memory of that faint moan was too vivid to ignore. She edged her way down the side yard, sweeping the flashlight from side to side. She had almost reached the den window. She could see the light from the window in the den shining out, making a pattern on the grass. She was about to put her foot into the light’s reflection when, from just behind her, a human voice moaned.
Caitlin jumped, her heart pounding, and whirled around, turning the flashlight, like a weapon, in the direction of the sound. ‘Who’s there?’ she cried.
The beam of the flashlight bounced and came to rest in the spot where she had heard the sound. At first she could not tell what she was seeing. And then, as her eyes adjusted, she recognized it. At the base of the hedge, propped up by the roots, its face turned into the leaves, was a body. A man lying on the ground.
‘Oh, Jesus!’ she cried. She wanted to run screaming, but instead she screwed up her courage and stepped closer.
‘Noah?’ she whispered, fearing what she might see. She pushed away the branches of the hedge and looked down.
His eyes were closed and his face was obscured by dark rivulets, his hair matted with blood. The body looked gray and limp, even in the flashlight’s glare. Caitlin wanted nothing more than to look away, to run. Instead, she turned her flashlight full on the face.
She screamed and jumped back.
The flashlight’s beam careened crazily over the house as she fumbled in her pocket for her phone. She pressed the familiar number on her speed dial and waited interminably for the ring, feeling like she wanted to pee, to cry, to faint. She gripped the phone with a sweaty, trembling hand. Sam Mathis answered on the second ring.
‘Caitlin?’ he said.
‘Sam. I’m at home. At Noah’s. Come right away,’ she said. ‘With an ambulance. Hurry.’
‘An ambulance? Are you all right?’
‘Yes, it’s not me,’ she said. Caitlin looked at the body on the ground. ‘It’s Dan.’
TWENTY-THREE
Police cars and an ambulance crowded the driveway, their lights flashing like red lightning in the darkness. Radios crackled and officers with flashlights combed the perimeter of the yard and beyond. Caitlin sat on the front porch steps, shivering, even though a policewoman had gone inside, fetched a blanket, and draped it around her.
She saw the EMTs moving a body on a stretcher and sliding it into the bay of the ambulance. She heard the heavy doors of the bay slam, and the siren’s scream pierced the night as the ambulance started down the driveway.
Sam came over to the steps and sat down beside her.
‘Will he live?’ she asked.
Sam shrugged. ‘Don’t know. The EMTs were working on him.’
Caitlin nodded and pulled the blanket more closely around her. ‘What happened to him?’
‘I don’t know that either. It looks like someone or something hit him hard enough to crack his skull.’
Caitlin winced.
‘You heard nothing?’ Sam asked, incredulous. ‘No struggle? No yelling?’
‘I heard nothing until I heard the moan that I told you about. It was very faint – I couldn’t have heard it from anywhere else in the house but the den. And even then, it wasn’t until I turned the TV off.’
‘How long were you in the house?’
‘I got here hours ago. It was not yet dark. Maybe five o’clock.’
‘He’d been lying there for hours. In addition to his injuries he’s suffering from hypothermia. His clothes were soaked through with dampness from the ground. As well as blood.’
‘I never saw him. I didn’t know . . .’
Sam nodded and peered at Caitlin. ‘What were you doing here?’ Sam asked. ‘I thought you were living at your folks’ house.’
‘I am. I . . . I don’t know. I was waiting for Noah to come home. I wanted to get the house ready for Geordie. I know it sounds crazy, but I thought we might be getting closer to finding him. Besides, I didn’t want to go back to my parents’ house. It’s awful being there.’
A car pulled into the driveway and stopped. Sam frowned as he looked at it. ‘That’s not one of my men,’ he said.
Caitlin peered at the car and then gasped in recognition as the driver emerged and started to walk toward them. ‘It’s Noah,’ she said.
Noah walked up to the steps and into the arc of light on the lawn thrown off by the porch lights. ‘What’s going on?’ he demanded, panic and hope in his voice. ‘Is it Geordie?’
Caitlin jumped up, shedding the blanket, and ran down the steps to him. ‘What happened to you?’ Caitlin demanded.
‘I’m all right,’ he said. ‘It’s nothing. Why are the police here? Is Geordie here?’
‘No,’ said Sam, shaking his head. ‘We don’t know anything more about Geordie. What happened to your face?’
Noah put his fingertips self-consciously to the bruises and cuts on his face. ‘Nothing. Nothing important.’
‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ said Sam, standing up.
‘I got into a little . . . altercation. If you must know.’
‘With who?’ Sam asked.
‘My brother-in-law, Dan.’
‘Noah,’ Caitlin blurted out. ‘Don’t! Don’t admit to anything.’
‘Why?’ Noah said. ‘What do you mean? We had a . . . fistfight. Did he c
all the cops? What a wuss. Is that why you’re here?’
‘Dan is badly hurt,’ said Caitlin. ‘That’s who the ambulance was here for. I found Dan lying half-dead by the side of the house.’
‘That’s enough,’ Sam barked at her. ‘Don’t say another word.’
‘Dan?’ Noah exclaimed. ‘You found him here?’
‘Right where you left him,’ said Sam grimly. ‘He may not live through the night.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Noah demanded. ‘I didn’t hurt Dan. I wanted to hurt him, but I didn’t.’ He touched his own bruised face again. ‘I actually got the worst of it. He knocked me out.’
‘When did he show up here?’ Sam asked.
‘He didn’t show up here. I saw him at the cemetery,’ said Noah.
‘The cemetery?’
‘After you told me your suspicions about Dan,’ said Noah, ‘I called him. I wanted answers. He told me he was already on his way here, and to meet him at Emily’s grave. So I went out there. When I got to the cemetery Dan was already there, putting flowers on Emily’s grave. That really pissed me off.’
‘I should never have told you about Dan,’ Sam said angrily. ‘I didn’t know you’d go vigilante on me.’
‘I didn’t,’ Noah insisted.
‘Don’t say any more,’ Caitlin urged him.
‘Caitlin, no, I have nothing to hide. Look, it’s my son who’s missing and I wanted answers. But no matter what I asked, he wouldn’t tell me anything. He kept saying that he couldn’t tell me anything and that he’d tell me in good time. Good time? Every waking moment I am agonizing about Geordie. We argued and I guess I lost my temper. I threw a punch at him. Then he decked me.’
‘And where have you been since this run-in with your brother-in-law?’ asked Sam.
‘Well, as I said, he knocked me out. When I came to, I found that he had taken my phone and messed my car up somehow. I couldn’t get it to start. I had to start walking back. It’s kind of . . . isolated out there by the cemetery. No one would stop for me or pick me up. I guess I look pretty bad,’ he admitted.
‘And yet, you still seem to be driving your car,’ said Sam acidly.
‘Some guy on a motorcyle stopped and asked me if I needed help. I told him about the car and the guy said he might be able to help me. I got on the back of his bike and we went back to the cemetery. The guy started looking at the car. I mean, he knew a lot about cars, I guess, but it took him a number of tries to figure out what the problem was and fix it. I wanted to borrow his phone and call a service station, but he was determined to help me whether I liked it or not. I didn’t want to be rude to the guy when he was trying to help. So I just hung around there, waiting, while he checked out one thing after another. It turned out it wasn’t anything major. I just don’t know a lot about cars,’ Noah admitted.
‘That’s true, he doesn’t,’ said Caitlin.
‘I need to speak to this man, to corroborate your story,’ said Sam.
‘It’s not a story,’ Noah insisted.
‘All the same, I need to speak to him.’
Noah shook his head. ‘That’s gonna be difficult. He was just passing through on his way to some biker fundraiser in Washington. The Veterans Memorial Fundraiser – that was it.’
‘Can you describe this guy? Do you know his name?’
‘His name was Jim. I don’t know his last name. He was older – probably a Vietnam vet. He had a gray beard and ponytail and a big gut.’
‘Sounds like every biker you see on the road these days,’ said Sam. ‘Where was he coming from?’
‘Oh . . . let me think. Providence, I think. He was coming down the back roads ’cause he hates riding on the GSP or the Turnpike.’
Sam sighed. ‘You’re going to have to come down to the station until we can check this story out. Will you come voluntarily, or do I have to place you under arrest?’
‘Arrest?’ Caitlin cried.
‘I’ll cooperate with you in any way I can,’ said Noah. ‘But I’m telling you, there’s no time. Dan Bergen knows where my son is.’
‘Well, thanks to someone taking the law into their own hands, he may never be able to tell us anything,’ said Sam grimly.
Noah turned to Caitlin. ‘Call David Alvarez,’ he said, naming one of the partners in his firm, ‘and have him meet me down at the police station. Will you do that?’
‘Of course,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Noah. ‘We’ll get this straightened out.’
Caitlin nodded as Sam took Noah by the arm and led him away.
David Alvarez was a stocky, gray-haired man with piercing black eyes. Tie askew and briefcase in hand, he was already at the police station when Caitlin arrived. He assured Caitlin that everything would be all right, and then accompanied Noah into the interrogation room, along with Sam and another detective.
Caitlin sat outside, waiting. She called Naomi to tell her what had happened, and Naomi announced that she was on her way before Caitlin could get the story out. Caitlin went to a vending machine, bought herself a Coke and sat back down to wait. In a few minutes, Caitlin heard a commotion at the front door of the station house. Naomi, Martha, and Travis arrived. Travis, dressed in his pajamas, slippers and a jacket, had Champ with him on a leash, and the desk sergeant was refusing to admit the boy with his dog.
Martha, normally quiet and seemingly pliant, was shaking with indignation. ‘I want to talk to Chief Burns,’ she insisted. ‘Right now.’
‘Take it easy, Mom,’ Naomi said, trying to soothe her.
‘I intend to give him a piece of my mind,’ Martha insisted.
‘That’s all well and good, ma’am,’ said the desk sergeant. ‘But that dog is not allowed in here. Now you take him out of here right now.’
‘Come on, Ma,’ said Naomi. ‘We’ll have to go.’
‘I’m not budging,’ Martha insisted, gazing off into the middle distance. She was balanced against Naomi’s arm and her small, pudgy frame was trembling. ‘My son lost his wife and this police department did nothing. Then my grandson disappeared. Still nothing. Now they are trying to blame this . . . insanity on Noah!’
‘Ma, take it easy,’ said Naomi. ‘We don’t want to make it worse.’
Caitlin felt suddenly very sorry for Naomi, who looked as if she couldn’t tolerate any more stress. Champ had begun to yip, which wasn’t helping matters.
‘Naomi,’ Caitlin said, ‘I can go outside with Travis and Champ while you two meet with the chief. We’ll go down to the Seven-Eleven and get a slurpee or something.’
‘They won’t let him in there, either,’ said Naomi in exasperation. ‘Travis, I told you to leave the dog at home.’
Travis stuck his lip out and looked away.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Caitlin. ‘I’ll figure something out. I won’t go far. I want to be here when Noah gets done with this.’
Naomi glanced at her mother, who was fuming and clearly did not intend to budge. ‘Really? That would be great,’ said Naomi.
‘Come on, Travis,’ said Caitlin. ‘Bring Champ with you.’
Travis looked to his mother. ‘Do I have to?’
‘Yes,’ said Naomi. ‘It’s your own fault for bringing that dog everywhere.’
Travis frowned and did as he was told while the desk sergeant called Chief Burns to see if he could make time to see Martha Eckhart and her daughter.
Caitlin stepped outside onto the front steps with Travis and the dog.
‘It’s freezing out here,’ said Travis.
‘It has gotten cold,’ said Caitlin. She glanced at her watch. ‘Tell you what. Why don’t we get in my car and wait? I’m parked right over there.’
Travis sighed but he clearly didn’t want to wait outside in the windy September night. He followed Caitlin to her car. Caitlin opened the passenger door, but Travis balked. ‘I want to sit in the back with Champ.’
‘That’s fine,’ said Caitlin. She opened the back door and Champ leapt into the car. Travis climbed in
behind him, and Caitlin closed the door. Then she went around the car to the driver’s seat.
‘I’m hungry,’ Travis complained.
‘Did you have dinner?’ Caitlin asked.
‘Ages ago,’ said Travis. ‘Let’s go to McDonald’s.’
Caitlin was about to protest that Travis probably didn’t need a second dinner when she realized that they could get something at the drive-thru window without taking the dog inside. She thought about the nearest McDonald’s. It wasn’t far. It would give her a chance to engage him while he was eating his second meal of the night. ‘All right,’ she said.
‘Cool,’ said Travis.
They drove in silence to the fast-food restaurant. Champ was a model pup, quiet throughout the journey. Caitlin pulled up to the speaker where one placed an order.
‘What do you want?’ she asked.
‘Three cheeseburgers, a large fries and a chocolate shake,’ Travis said promptly.
‘You don’t need all that,’ said Caitlin. She spoke into the speaker. ‘A burger, small fries and a small coke,’ she said.
‘I need a burger for Champ,’ Travis protested.
Caitlin doubted that Champ would see a bite but, after a moment’s hesitation, she amended the order.
‘Pull up to the window,’ a disembodied voice replied.
She paid for and picked up the order and then pulled into a parking space just beyond the drive-thru window. She handed the bag back to Travis. There was rustling of paper in the back seat as Travis dove into it.
‘How come you didn’t get any?’ he asked through a mouthful of food.
‘I’m not hungry,’ said Caitlin. ‘I’m too worried about your uncle.’
‘What did Uncle Noah do?’ Travis asked.
‘The police think he hurt Geordie’s Uncle Dan,’ said Caitlin.
‘Did he?’ Travis asked through a mouthful of food.
‘I . . . don’t think so,’ she said. Then she hesitated. ‘You know Uncle Dan, right?’
Missing Child Page 18
