Saving Madeline

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  Maybe. Or not really. His youthful decisions had caused so much pain, and by the time he’d finally gained the sense to put the past behind him and take responsibility for his life, it was too late to matter to either his brother or his father. The irony was that the responsibility had ultimately taken him from Dakota and her world.

  But not from Madeline, the precious child who had been all his from the moment she’d taken her first breath. He wouldn’t change her existence for anything, not even to recover those useless, mindless years he’d spent as Dakota’s hostage. At least now the time when she could use Madeline as a weapon was over. He would take Madeline far away where she could have a normal life and keep her there until Dakota self-destructed, and they could come home again.

  “All done!” Madeline announced, shoving one more chocolate chip into her mouth. Her lips and fingers were streaked with chocolate.

  “Good job,” Norma exclaimed with the sincere-sounding admiration Parker remembered from his own childhood. “Let’s get these babies in the oven.”

  All too soon darkness replaced the day. Madeline fell asleep, a contented smile on her face from her full day of attention and love. When Carla showed up to watch Madeline, Parker drove his mother to her friend’s house.

  They returned the borrowed car without incident, and as they crossed several streets and yards on their way home, Parker went over his plans. Once his mother was safely home, he’d drive his truck to the apartment, stuff more clothes in garbage bags, and jog back with them to the house. Tomorrow he would take out a large sum of money, buy a car—maybe from a junkyard he knew where they weren’t picky about records—and pack up everything he’d managed to bring over these past few days, including all of Madeline’s new clothing. Then they would leave Utah. His mother would eventually sell his truck, and his apartment would be rented to others. Meanwhile, Norma would wrap up her own private affairs and follow when she could leave without being suspected. Maybe not for a year or more. Sadness at this thought filled him as they made their way through his mother’s fence and up to the back door of her house.

  A heartbeat later, pandemonium set in as two uniformed policemen stepped out of the dark bushes, guns drawn. “Police!” one shouted. “Keep your hands where we can see them.”

  Norma cried out and Parker stiffened. “What is this about?” he demanded.

  Detective Sally Crumb emerged from the shadows, wearing a navy suit. “Why don’t you tell me? Where have you been, Mr. Hathaway?”

  “None of your business,” Parker spat.

  Norma put a hand on his arm to calm him. “My son and I were visiting friends. Is that a crime? Why are you on my property? Spying on us? We haven’t done anything wrong!”

  “No?” The detective tilted her head and folded her arms over her ample chest. “Do you want to tell us exactly where you’ve been? What friends? Just so we can verify.”

  No answer.

  “I thought not.”

  Parker struggled to control his fury but knew his mother was right. If they were to come out of this safely, they had to remain calm.

  “This is ridiculous,” Norma insisted. “Now put away those guns and tell us what you want in a civilized manner.”

  Hesitating only a few seconds, Detective Crumb nodded at her associates, who holstered their weapons. But Parker noticed that each left one hand ready to pull them out again if needed.

  “We’d like to take Mr. Hathaway in for questioning.”

  “I’ve answered all your questions.”

  Detective Crumb stared at him without expression. “You either come with me or I’ll arrest you.”

  “What?” Now that the anger was fading, he was too numb to even feel shock. “Why?”

  “Your truck has been identified as being in Salt Lake near your ex-wife’s house on the night Madeline went missing.”

  “There must be some mistake,” Norma said.

  Parker remembered the passing car. Whoever it was must have come forward. However, that didn’t mean they could identify him or that they’d have enough proof to arrest him.

  “There are hundreds of trucks that look like Parker’s,” Norma added. “Besides, he was here.”

  Parker looked at her in warning, but she blundered on. “You can ask my neighbor. He came to fix the leak in my sink before work on Thursday.”

  “We did talk to your neighbors,” Detective Crumb said. “They did see his truck leave, but they didn’t see what time he got here. Even if he’d been here all night, that doesn’t preclude him from having been in Salt Lake in the middle of the night.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Norma’s calm evaporated.

  Making a quick decision, Parker took a step toward Detective Crumb. “Let’s go in, then. This shouldn’t take long.”

  “Actually, we’ll need to take you and the truck to Salt Lake. You’ll be in a lineup tonight. Might take a few hours. Or longer.”

  Parker exchanged glances with Norma. He hoped she remembered where Madeline was so she could take care of her. “I’ll go with you, just let me tell my mother good-bye.”

  “Go ahead.” Detective Crumb wasn’t moving an inch.

  Parker leaned down and hugged Norma. “Be careful,” he whispered. “Don’t lead them there.”

  Norma’s arms tightened around him. “I love you, Parker. I’ll get you out. You’ll see.”

  Parker took out his keys and waved them in the air. “Do you want to drive, Detective? Or shall I?”

  She took the keys and tossed them to one of the officers. “Neither.”

  “You’ll need gas,” Parker informed him. Since he’d planned to leave the truck in Utah when he left, there’d been no use in filling it.

  “Come on, Mr. Hathaway.”

  With a last look at his mother, Parker fell in between Detective Crumb and the other officer as they marched to the front of the house. There were two more plainclothes policemen waiting near the unmarked police car. Detective Crumb chatted briefly with them before opening the back door for Parker and ushering him inside. Apparently only one of the plainclothes policemen was going with them. The other went to stand with a policeman in uniform who was still talking to Norma.

  “Aren’t they coming?” Parker asked.

  Detective Crumb nodded at the wiry man in the driver’s seat, giving him permission to pull out. “Not yet,” she answered. “Your mother might need to get a few things before she joins us.”

  Pain shot through Parker’s chest. “Join us,” he managed.

  Crumb smiled at him, her attractive face unmoving. “We’re taking her in for questioning, too. We think she’s covering for you.”

  Parker barely heard the words, but he understood them. No one would be around for Madeline. Only Carla, who was expecting him back very soon. What would she do when he didn’t return? Would she stay? Would she take Madeline home with her? Would she call the police? Worse, would she just leave Madeline alone sleeping, expecting him to return?

  No. She wouldn’t do that. But he didn’t really know her that well, or the members of her family, at least a few of whom were in the U.S. illegally. Carla wouldn’t call the police. But that was the only thing he was sure of.

  Madeline! he thought. What was he going to do now?

  • • •

  Sally Crumb could tell Parker Hathaway was anxious. He wasn’t very good at hiding the emotion. He kept staring blankly out the window or looking at the time on his cell phone. She remembered the days when people wore wristwatches; now cell phones had taken their place. And a good thing, too—a watch couldn’t make or receive a call, or let a detective know so clearly that a person was distressed.

  Why was he so nervous? Did it mean he’d been in Salt Lake that night? Or was it for another reason?

  If he had been in Salt Lake the night Madeline had gone missing, he was most certainly involved in the disappearance. But what had he done with the child? By all accounts, even the child’s mother, Dakota Allen, who seemed to hate Parker as much as
she disgusted him, was adamant that if he was involved he wouldn’t harm her.

  “I hope it was him,” Dakota had told Sally that morning. “Because then I’d know she was okay.”

  Sally didn’t like Dakota. From their first meeting, the blonde woman was evasive and uncooperative about giving out the names of her friends. Since talking to Parker that first day, Sally had done all the checks, but though Dakota had been arrested many times for possession or for being publicly drunk, she’d never been convicted. Sally was still looking for clues, not limiting herself to the past few months. Sometimes you had to go back a few years to find the evidence.

  The little boy with Dakota—a son from another relationship—seemed happy enough and well cared for, but that didn’t make Sally feel any better about Dakota. She had a feel for these things, and something didn’t add up. Like with Parker.

  She itched to get her hands on his cell phone. She’d managed to do some preliminary checking on him within the realm of her warrant, but his cell phone had supposedly been shut off. Now here he was with another one, and it might hold the answers. She’d be sure to get a warrant before morning.

  Parker met her gaze as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I have to get to work tomorrow. How long is this going to be?”

  “As long as it takes. At least we managed to arrange things for tonight. Not easy on a Sunday. If you’re cleared, you’ll be free to go.” He seemed more at ease then, so maybe he was only worried about his job. Sally narrowed her eyes as she studied him.

  He met her stare without flinching. “I would never do anything to hurt my daughter.”

  She nodded. “I believe that. Not purposefully, anyway.”

  “Dakota lived in a meth house before I moved her to this other one. The only time I saw Madeline during those months was when she brought her to me. It was a living nightmare not knowing where she was and not seeing her regularly. When I found out what kind of place they were staying at, I rented the other house. I thought she’d change, but she hasn’t.”

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  “She’s doing drugs. Madeline isn’t safe with her.”

  “So you keep saying, and I promise you I’m pursuing every lead I have in that respect. But I need to know—did you take your daughter to protect her?”

  He looked out the window. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  • • •

  Sally stood with the witness, a man who worked the night shift at a frozen food company. Dale Stewart lived in Madeline’s neighborhood, and on his way home each morning he almost never came across anyone.

  “Could have been him,” he said. “Can’t tell you any better. It was dark, but I had my brights on. Didn’t expect to see anyone. But it was definitely that truck I saw, or one exactly like it. I remember the dent in the front bumper and half of the license plate.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Stewart. We appreciate your coming in.”

  Stewart inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Anything, as long as it helps bring back that little girl.”

  An officer led him out, and Sally stared at the lineup for a short moment. “Okay, you can tell them to go.” She turned to the chief of police standing beside her. “It’s enough to hold him, I think.”

  “And to press initial charges. But there needs to be more proof for a conviction. You know that as well as I do.” The chief was a tall, impressive man, if a little on the thin side. His suit hung on his lean frame, but his face was one you could trust. He could make hard decisions when necessary, but he was compassionate about it. Moreover, he trusted his employees to do their jobs without checking up on them constantly.

  “I’ll get proof.” She was thinking of Hathaway’s new cell phone. “As long as I have enough to legally hold him and to examine his belongings, I think I’ll find exactly what I’m looking for.”

  “What about the mother?”

  “Hasn’t given us a thing.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t know anything.”

  “Maybe. But I want to keep her in holding a bit longer. When we do let her go, we can tail her.” Sally didn’t think it’d be necessary, but it paid to be careful.

  “Keep me informed. I’m heading back home.”

  “Thanks for coming in tonight.”

  “Hey, we’re all rooting for this girl. We need to do what it takes to find her.”

  Sally nodded and strode from the room, feeling sure the answer was close at hand.

  Parker was waiting for her in an empty questioning room. He sat at a table, long legs sprawled, his hair mussed. “So, am I free to go? Or are you going to arrest me?”

  “Your truck was positively identified as being near your daughter’s house that night,” Sally informed him without emotion, “so we do have reason to hold you while we investigate.”

  His shoulders sagged slightly. “How long?”

  “Twenty-four hours unless we file charges. If you’re arrested, it will be another day or so before you’re arraigned.”

  He sat up and banged his fist on the table. “Even if my truck was there, couldn’t I sometimes drive by my daughter’s house to make sure everything’s okay? Is that a crime? Don’t you ever check on your children?”

  “We’ll need to see your cell phone, Mr. Hathaway. It wasn’t with your other belongings.”

  Parker blinked. “They must have misplaced it.”

  Sally pursed her lips at this lie. She’d had the squad car checked as well as the garbage bins he might have had access to but without result. Yet there were many other places he could have stashed the phone—in a plant, under a cushion, in a box of miscellaneous items—and if it was turned off as she suspected, there would be no ringing from incoming calls to alert them.

  “Okay,” she said, switching tactics. “Tell me again why you were in Salt Lake that night.”

  “I didn’t say I was. I said it was possible.” He shook his head. “Look, you’ve already asked me a million questions tonight, and I’ve answered them. But I know the drill. Even if you have a reason to hold me here, I have the right to speak with a lawyer before I say anything more.”

  “Do you have one?”

  “No. And I can’t pay one, either. Not with all my child support and bills. Maybe my mother will help. Can I see her?”

  “I’m sorry. We’re questioning her now.”

  “Are you detaining her, too?”

  “Unlike you, she is free to go any time she pleases.”

  “I bet you didn’t tell her that, though, did you?” he growled.

  “Where’s your phone?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I already told you I’m not answering any more questions until I talk to a lawyer.”

  “Fine. Have it your way.” Biting back frustration, Sally left the room. On her way down the hall, she took out her cell and phoned Tony. “Hi,” she said.

  “I was beginning to think you got lost.”

  “I wish.”

  “So, you coming home tonight?”

  “Not yet. We found a suspect.”

  “Ah.” He would know what that meant, but he was also familiar enough with the routine not to ask any questions.

  “How’s Randi?”

  “Fine. Just got her to bed. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I do worry. I hate working so much.”

  “It’s not all the time. Just when it’s important. She understands. She told me she hopes you find the little girl.”

  “I’m closer. We’re going over all his old phone records again and the pictures we took at his apartment. There has to be something more. Everyone’s pulling overtime on this.”

  “Try not to come home too late.” There was a husky note in her husband’s voice. “If I’m still awake, I’ll give you a back rub.”

  “Mmm. Sounds heavenly. I’ll do my best.” She spied one of her colleagues coming toward her, waving a paper and looking excited. “I gotta go, hon. See you tonight. And if not I’ll take a rai
ncheck on that back rub.”

  “Deal.”

  Clapping the phone shut, she asked, “What you got, Jim?”

  Jim smiled. “Remember that unknown number we were trying to trace from Hathaway’s records? Finally got ahold of the guy, and guess what? He rented Hathaway a house on the edge of town, starting last week. Hathaway must have made that first call from his old cell.”

  Gotcha, Sally thought. To Jim she said, “Let’s get local officers there now.”

  “Already on it.”

  • • •

  Though Parker was trying to maintain a calm exterior, he was beginning to feel desperate at how long he’d been separated from Madeline. Too much time had gone by since Detective Crumb had told him his truck had been positively identified. He remembered the passing car that night. Why hadn’t he parked on a different street?

  Even if the detective came in here this minute and told him she changed her mind and he was free to leave, it would take him two hours to get back to Manti—more if he had to worry about losing a tail. How had his life deteriorated so quickly? It was like being back in a relationship with Dakota.

  Meanwhile, he couldn’t helping worrying that Carla might have left Madeline alone at the rental house. Maybe she had something important awaiting her attention and rationalized that he would only be gone a short time. They didn’t really have a long-standing relationship, and he couldn’t guess at her thought process or the culture in which she had been raised. If she leaves Madeline, I’ll fire her, he vowed. Of course the idea was ludicrous because he’d planned to let her go anyway.

  One option was to tell Detective Crumb the truth. Maybe she was looking into Dakota’s drug use, and they could work together to make sure Madeline was safe. Or maybe Dakota would be more careful now that the authorities were aware of what was going on.

  Or were they? They didn’t seem to be good at getting to the truth. What if nothing changed and Madeline remained at risk? For all he knew the cops didn’t take his accusations seriously, and telling the truth now might only mean that he wouldn’t have another chance to save his daughter. Dakota obviously wasn’t changing any time soon. That was something he should have counted on, since he knew from experience how enticing her lifestyle was and how hard it would be to break free. His daughter shouldn’t have to deal with that, not at four or at any age.