by Amy M. Reade
I sped all the way to JFK, and after parking ran into the building and stopped to talk to the first airport employee I found. I briefly explained the problem and asked to talk to someone in security. When I was ushered to the security office, it took some minutes before I found someone who knew about the search for Neill and Ellie earlier in the day. The woman who spoke to me was sympathetic about my missing passport, but there wasn’t much she could do to help. She offered to take me over to customs to talk to a supervisor.
As I explained the problem over and over to the people at customs, the long minutes dragged by and my flight time grew closer and closer. I could feel myself getting more upset and weepy. Finally a woman came up to me.
“Are you Dr. Greer Dobbins?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Detective West talked to me earlier today and told me what’s going on. He knew you’d have to fly out of JFK tonight. I can help you.” I could have hugged her. In just a few moments, I was signing my replacement passport and running to catch my flight to Edinburgh.
I made it just in time. The attendant had finished stacking up her papers and turning to close the door to the Jetway when I ran up, breathless and sweating. “You’re lucky,” she told me with a smile. “You almost missed it.”
I sank into the seat on the plane and ordered a whisky, neat, from the first attendant who walked past me. The man next to me smiled. “Tough day?”
“You have no idea.” The attendant brought the drink, and I finished it in a few draughts. I ordered another and drank that one more slowly, holding it in my shaking hand as the plane took off for Scotland.
“Are you all right?” my neighbor asked. I looked at him as if noticing him for the first time. He looked genuinely concerned.
“I will be as soon as we get to Edinburgh,” I replied with a wan smile.
“It won’t be long now, then,” he said. “I’m James Abernathy.” His Scottish accent was strong and lilting. I introduced myself and then, hoping I wasn’t being too rude, closed my eyes and waited for a small meal to be served. I hadn’t eaten much at Dottie’s house. All the tension from the day, all the stress and anxiety, began to recede a bit as I settled into my seat, secure in knowing I would be reunited with Ellie in just a few short hours.
I awoke when the flight attendant came by with our meals, complete with wine selection and bread basket. James held up his glass to me and, with a nod and a smile, said “Slàinte!”
“Slàinte,” I responded, lifting my glass.
I was starving. I tucked into my meal with enthusiasm, not caring whether my neighbor wondered if I always ate like that.
After the flight attendant had cleared away the tray, I leaned back and looked out the window at the dark sky.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” James asked.
“It is,” I agreed.
“Are you from Edinburgh?” he asked.
“No, I’m from Dumfries. I’ve been living in the States for years, but my mother still lives in Dumfries. I spent quite a bit of time in Edinburgh growing up, you know, school holidays and summers. We would drive up from Dumfries and stay often. Are you from Edinburgh?”
“I am indeed,” he answered proudly. “A beautiful city.”
“Gorgeous,” I agreed.
“Are you visiting your family?”
“Sort of,” I said. I saw his gaze flicker to my left ring finger, naked of jewelry.
He sipped his wine. “The weather in Edinburgh has been getting a bit cooler lately. Winter won’t be long now.”
“I love Scotland in the winter,” I replied.
“You like it?” he asked incredulously.
“Love it,” I repeated. “There’s something about the city on the cold, dark, rainy days that I find irresistible.”
He thought for a moment. “I agree that the city is especially beautiful during the dark season, but that cold….” He shivered for effect, a smile on his face. “Brrr. I prefer the warmth of summertime.”
“The museums are always warm in the winter, so they’re fun to visit when the weather is very ugly,” I said.
“I know. I work in one of them.”
“Oh? Which one?”
“The Artists’ Museum.”
“I’ve been there,” I said excitedly. “It’s one of my favorites. What do you do there?”
“I’m the collections curator.”
“What a fabulous place to work,” I exclaimed. “I’m envious.”
“I’ve been working there for several years now, and it’s the best job I’ve ever had. What do you do?”
“I’m a professor of art history.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I work at a university in the Berkshires, in Massachusetts.” I fished around in my handbag for a card and handed it to him. He glanced at it and put it in his breast pocket.
“I’ve never been to the Berkshires, but I understand it’s lovely up there.”
“It is,” I agreed.
“So you probably know more than I do about many of the artists and artwork we display at the Artists’ Museum.”
I smiled. “I don’t know about that.”
“When was the last time you were at the museum?”
“It was several years ago, on a trip with some of my students.”
“Then there are lots of new things to see. You’ll have to make a visit while you’re in Edinburgh.”
I hesitated. “I’m not really sure how long I’ll be there.”
“Oh?” He clearly was looking for more information. What could I say without opening the Pandora’s Box of everything that happened today?
“Yes, once I pick up my daughter I will probably make arrangements to go back home. This was a sort of a spur-of-the-moment trip.”
“You’re here to collect your daughter, you say?”
“Yes.”
“How long has she been visiting?”
“A very short time, actually.”
“Pity you can’t stay longer and enjoy the city.”
“I need to get back to work.”
“Ah. Yes, well, I suppose that is important.”
The conversation had become a bit stilted once I mentioned picking up Ellie. James opened a newspaper from the seat pocket in front of him. I closed my eyes again, knowing the time would go faster if I slept.
I was awakened by an announcement from the captain that we were beginning our descent into Edinburgh. James had lifted the window shade, and I could barely see anything in the dark gray sky. I searched for a glimpse of the city where, I knew, Ellie was waiting for me.
Smoothing my clothes and gratefully cleaning my face with a small hot towel the flight attendant gave me, I was anxious to deplane and see my little girl again. James smiled at me. “You must be chuffed to see your daughter. How old is she?”
“Five.” He seemed surprised by my answer. “Do I look too old to have a daughter who’s five?” I asked with a smile.
“No, no,” he hastened to assure me. “Not at all. Has she been visiting your family?”
“Not exactly,” I answered. “But my mum will be at the airport with her.”
“Oh.” He clearly didn’t know what to say next.
Without warning, I suddenly found myself blurting out my whole story to my seatmate. He stared at me, mouth agape, while I talked in a rush. “So now you know why I’m in Edinburgh,” I concluded.
“I’m verra sorry. I didn’t know all that,” he said apologetically, his accent becoming more pronounced than before.
“It’s all right. But Ellie will be at the airport waiting for me. I asked my mother to meet her so she has family with her when the police take Neill into custody.”
“That was a good idea. Lucky your mum’s not too far away.”
We sat in silence for a little while, until the familiar sounds of the plane descending and restless travelers told us it was time to start getting ready to go. The plane f
inally taxied to the terminal, and one of the flight crew announced that we could turn on our electronics. I reached for my phone and pressed it on. As soon as it came to life, it started buzzing and beeping with text alerts. My department chair, no doubt, wondering whether I would be able to teach my own classes tomorrow. Checking in my handbag for my small umbrella, I flipped through the list of texts.
They were all from my mother.
Neill and Ellie aren’t here.
The airport police can’t find them.
Are you sure they were on that flight?
Just confirmed they were on the flight.
When does your flight land?
Tell me what to do next.
I gasped. James looked at me with concern. “Are you all right?”
“My mother says Neill and Ellie are missing. The airport police can’t find them.” I was starting to panic. I texted my mother.
Just landed. Where are you?
In the office at customs, she immediately responded.
“Were they on the earlier flight?” James asked.
“Yes. But they disappeared sometime between getting off the plane and getting to customs.”
“Can I help?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Thank you, though. I don’t know what to do now.”
He motioned to the flight attendant. “Can you bring the lady a glass of water, please?” He turned to me. “You’re looking awfully pale.” The flight attendant hurried back with a glass of ice water and stood there while I drank it.
“Can I get you something else?” she asked with concern.
“No, thank you. Can you just tell me where I can find airport security as soon as I get off the plane?”
“Certainly. Can I call someone and have them meet you?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
She left, and I could see her talking on the phone up near the cockpit. She returned a moment later. “There should be a security officer waiting for you when you exit the Jetway.”
I tried to give her a grateful smile, but it turned into a grimace. James fished in his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. “I don’t know how much help I can be, but please don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”
“Thank you.”
The attendant hurried up to me again. “I’ve made arrangements for you to deplane first,” she said quietly.
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” I was starting to get looks from the other passengers. I turned to James. “Thank you for listening.”
The door to the Jetway was opening, and the flight attendant held up her hand to the people in the front row. “Just a moment, please,” she said. She motioned to me with her hand. I grabbed my duffel bag and stepped into the aisle.
A security officer met me at the gate and ushered me immediately to a small office in the terminal. I related the events of the entire day, ending with the texts I had received from my mother. He talked into a phone mounted on the wall while I waited.
“Your mother is waiting for you at customs,” he told me after he hung up the phone. “Airport security is combing the area for your daughter and ex-husband.”
“But they haven’t found them yet?” I asked, my voice rising.
“No, ma’am. I’ll take you to your mother now.”
As we walked quickly through the airport, I scanned every face for Ellie’s big brown eyes. “Have they checked the restrooms?” I asked my escort.
“Yes, ma’am. Those are the first places we checked.”
They weren’t in the airport. In the pit of my stomach, I knew they had managed to disappear again.
CHAPTER 7
At customs, my mother met me with a big hug, her eyes puffy and wet. I clung to her fora moment, then pulled away and got down to business. I spoke to the woman in the customs office. She told me she was working with airport security to pull up the video feed from the cameras outside the airport.
Mum and I waited in the customs lobby for the next several hours, while airport police, security, and customs officials came and went, looking for Ellie and Neill. There was no good news.
As time dragged on toward afternoon, a customs official came up to us. “You should probably find a hotel,” she said. “It looks like you might be staying in Edinburgh for a while.”
I spoke again to the police officers heading up the now formal investigation, and they confirmed their belief that Neill and Ellie had indeed somehow left the building without the knowledge of airport personnel or customs officials. The search would now expand into the city of Edinburgh.
My mother reached for my hand, and together we walked outside and hailed a taxi. I told the driver to take us to any hotel in Old Town Edinburgh, and eventually we pulled up in front of an inn along a cobblestone street. If I had been in Edinburgh under different circumstances, I would have found the inn quaint and charming. As it was, I barely noticed the stone facade of the building.
We checked into two rooms and unpacked. I wanted to return to the airport, but Mum convinced me to take tea with her in the inn’s dining room. I sat with her, stiff and silent, sipping my strong tea and waiting for my mobile phone to ring. Mum offered theories on Neill’s behavior. At that point, I couldn’t have cared less why Neill had taken Ellie. I just wanted her back. I was jerked back into the conversation when I heard Mum mention the name “Sylvie.”
“What about Sylvie?” I asked.
“I think she should come stay with you here at the hotel while you’re in Edinburgh.”
My sister and I, though close in age, had very different personalities. She was happy-go-lucky to my nervousness and reserve. She was a city person, while I was happiest in the mountains. She was a doer; I was a thinker. She still lived at home, and I had been on my own since college. I didn’t really want her around with her carefree selfishness while I waited for news about Ellie and Neill.
“Why?” I asked.
“For moral support,” my mother said gently, covering my hand with hers. “I think her presence could be good for you. Besides, she’s between jobs right now, so she can take the time to come here.” Which meant, of course, that Sylvie was unemployed again.
I wasn’t capable of making any decisions just then. I didn’t care whether Sylvie came or stayed back in Dumfries. Thinking about it was just too exhausting. I deferred to my mother.
“Do whatever you want,” I said wearily. “I don’t care if she comes or not.”
Mum wasted no time taking out her mobile phone and dialing home. “Sylvie? No, they weren’t on the flight. Yes, she’s here with us. We’re at an inn in Old Town. Waiting to hear. Sylvie, dear, I think it would be a good idea for you to come up here and stay with Greer for a bit. She could use your support.”
I held my breath, hoping Sophie had better things to do than wait with me.
“Right, then. I’ll text you the address of the inn, and we’ll see you in a few hours.”
So Sylvie was coming to stay.
“I don’t know how much time I’ll be able to spend with her,” I cautioned.
“You don’t have to entertain her. She’s a grown woman. She’s coming to be of help to you.”
If she’s so grown-up, why is she still living with you, then?
I looked at my phone as if it were a foreign thing, wondering why no one was calling me. I wanted updates from the airport, from the police, from anyone. I checked to make sure the volume was turned up so I wouldn’t miss a call. “I’m going back upstairs,” I told my mother. She nodded sadly, saying nothing, probably knowing I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.
I returned to my room and switched on the television, hoping for news of a missing little girl and her father. But I knew there would be no news of them. They had melted into the city.
And as if to confirm my worst fears, my phone rang. I snatched it up. “Yes?”
It was an officer with the airport police. She informed me they had found footag
e of a child and a man matching the descriptions of Ellie and Neill getting into a taxi outside the airport.
“How were they able to leave?” I asked, my heart sinking.
“We think he must have bribed an airport employee to let them out through a restricted area to avoid going through customs. He probably knew we would be waiting for him.”
“So if you have video of them getting into a taxi, then you can get the number off the taxi, find the driver, and ask where he took them, can’t you?”
“I’m afraid not, ma’am. The taxi they entered was parked behind another, larger, van and the taxi went around other larger cars to exit the airport parking lot. So we are unable to identify the car they took.”
Another dead end.
I groaned. “Now what?”
“Now we look for other leads,” she said. “Don’t worry, ma’am. We’ll find your little girl.”
Her words, spoken with the aim of making me feel better, somehow did manage to lift my spirits a bit. Those five words, “We’ll find your little girl,” gave me a hope I had no rational reason to feel.
“What should I do?” I asked her. “Should I go see Neill’s parents?”
“Stay in the city for now,” she advised. “Let the police talk to Neill’s family first. At the moment, there’s nothing you can do. We’ve got a team of people working on this, and they won’t rest until they’ve found Ellie. I would recommend you get some food and rest, because without those things you’ll be quite useless when we find her.”
“Thanks,” I said. I hung up the phone and dialed Mum’s mobile. I repeated the officer’s words and told her I would join her for dinner in a few hours. What I needed now, I said, was a brisk walk outdoors. She offered to join me, but I wanted to be alone.
I struck out alone onto the streets of Old Town, seeing but not really appreciating the cobbles below my feet or the centuries-old buildings surrounding me. I followed no particular route through the labyrinth of lanes and alleys that had existed since medieval times. The art historian in me would have relished such a walk at any other time, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything except where Neill could have taken Ellie. I decided to return to the inn and make a list of the people whom I knew were acquainted with Neill from his days teaching at the University of Edinburgh. I planned to visit them the following day to see if Neill had told any of them he was arriving in town. And regardless of what the woman with the airport police had said, I knew a visit to Neill’s parents was in my near future.
