When he walked in the door, however, he almost laughed, thinking Fletcher might need all the help he could get. Fletcher MacAllister, the product of a Thai mother and Scottish father, stood more than a foot taller than the petite woman in front of him and outweighed her by probably 80 pounds. Yet he was the one with his back against the wall, his arms crossed defensively. His dark, silky hair flopped over his forehead as he stared down at Dee, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
Dee had her hands on her hips, head tipped back so she could stare at Fletcher eye-to-eye. As she spoke, she rocked up on her toes with every other word or so, giving the impression she was about to fall against Fletcher’s chest. Clearly her painkillers from last night had worn off, although she still wore the bandages on her face.
They reminded Tyler of a picture he’d seen of a determined Chihuahua confronting a resolute Great Dane. A Chihuahua with one black eye.
Her eyes sparked with anger. “Don’t you get sanctimonious with me, Fletcher MacAllister. You can’t imagine what Carly’s parents feel unless you’ve been there, unless you’ve had your child ripped out of your arms forever. Don’t lay the faults in this investigation on a lack of money or time or team. Preposterous. I’ve run enough fund-raisers in my life to know that when the cause is right, people will turn their pockets inside out, if need be. And I should go with you. I know what they’re going through! Has anyone from the county talked to them about counseling? Has anyone other than cops or the press sat down with them to really talk about how they feel, how they’re doing with this kind of loss? Has anyone—?”
“Dee.”
She acknowledged Tyler’s presence only with a slight tip of her head to the left, but her words were still aimed at Fletcher. “Why isn’t more being done to find that precious little girl!”
“Sit.” The soft word still held enough of a command that Dee turned, and Tyler faced her solemnly. “You don’t want Fletcher to be sanctimonious, yet you’re very quick to assume that what you see publicly is all we’re doing to find Carly.” He pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit.
“As you can see, you’re in a private room for the very reason that I don’t want anyone else knowing the details of what happened yesterday or anything that needs to be discussed this morning. Too many people already have a lot of misinformation.
“And after what you went through with your own accident investigation, you, of all people, should realize how much of an investigation takes place out of the public eye, even on a case like this.”
Dee blinked, almost as if awakening from a dream, and sat slowly. “I do understand. But I don’t see how—”
Tyler sat across from her and Fletcher moved to her left so he could see her face. “Tell us everything you remember about yesterday.”
Dee straightened her shoulders and rested her hands on the table. “I found the shoes about a mile out, down the path. I was jogging from the retreat into town. My left calf started to cramp so I stopped to stretch it.”
“Near the stream.”
She nodded. “It was where the stream crosses under the path, near that wooden foot bridge. There’s a grassy embankment coming up from the stream. Very shady. A good place to rest. I’ve stopped there before on my walks.”
Tyler leaned over the table, focusing on her face. “How far were you from the logging road?”
“Maybe twenty yards on the other side of it. Toward the retreat.”
Tyler’s lips pursed, but he remained silent, as the hope he had that the shoes were Carly’s wavered. The stream, the trail, and the logging road all were within a mile of the Bradfords’ property. The stream ran through the woods behind their house. Because of that, the search for Carly had focused with a laser’s intensity on those three areas. Dogs, officers and volunteers had combed every inch of the area several times, including that embankment.
The shoes had not been there in the days after Carly’s disappearance. Even if they had missed them, it had rained a solid week last month, causing the stream to rise and leave the ground around it a muddy mess. The grass had only grown up again in the last two or three weeks, as the temperature had warmed and the rains ceased and the white sandals were still pristine. So if these were Carly’s shoes, how did they get there? If Dee’s attacker was the kidnapper, then there remained a strong possibility that Carly was alive and in the area. If so, how had they missed her? Tyler didn’t know whether to hope…or feel more incompetent than ever.
Dee looked from one man to the other, her look of determination fading to concern. She licked her lips, then took a long breath. She sat straighter, and Tyler admired the way she seemed to be holding herself together. She met his gaze firmly. “I know you still doubt the sandals are Carly’s, but they have to be. They have to be. Why else would that…person…attack me trying to get them back and the break-in? I know you think that was about the shoes.”
Tyler hesitated, knowing he needed to tell her the rest. The attack added weight to her claim, but so did the dress. Yet nothing was certain until the Bradfords identified both. He glanced at Fletcher, who shrugged, then nodded once.
Dee caught both movements, and her gaze sharpened. “What’s going on?”
Tyler took a deep breath and explained about finding Carly’s dress. As he did, Dee’s expression flared from curiosity to excitement. She grabbed Tyler’s hands and almost came up out of her chair. “Then she’s still alive! Carly’s still alive!”
Fletcher pressed her back into her chair. “We don’t know that, Dee. She could be, or the kidnapper could have dumped the dress to get rid of evidence as a sign that he’s about to move her, or…” His voice trailed off.
“Or kill her,” Tyler finished.
Dee grew still, studying him. After a moment, she tilted her head to one side, and her eyes narrowed. “Okay, then. What do we need to do to help the Bradfords?”
Tyler fought a smile. Where was all this determination coming from? “First, I want you to finish telling us about yesterday. Then Nancy and Jack Bradford are going to have to identify the sandals and dress. That’s essential, no matter what we think. If they’re up to it, I’ll take them out to their house. Then, we can—”
“Can I go with you?”
Tyler frowned. “No, I don’t think—”
“But I know what they’re going through better than anyone else. I can help.”
“This will be an official visit—”
“But they might want to know where the sandals were found as well. They might know something about—”
“Dee. No.” Tyler straightened, becoming more of the cop again. “You can’t go this time.” He almost grimaced, recognizing instantly that “this time” might have been a mistake.
It was. “Okay, not this time, but soon. I want to talk to them. I need to talk to them.”
“Maybe, but—”
His mother opened the door, and Tyler had a sudden urge to hug her neck. “Sorry to interrupt, Tyler. The Bradfords are here. They said they couldn’t wait.”
Fletcher muttered something under his breath and turned away.
Tyler nodded at Peg. “Please put the Bradfords in room two. I’ll get the shoes and dress from Wayne’s evidence locker.”
She nodded and left, and Tyler looked back at Dee. “I want you to go back to the retreat. I’ll have one of the guys take you—”
“No.”
His eyebrows went up. “What?”
She stood up and squared her shoulders. “You can let me be a part of this, or I’ll talk to them without you. I have to talk to them, Tyler. I have to. My way we all hear what’s going on. Your way means someone’s always out of the loop, and that’s no way to find a child. What will it be?”
SEVEN
Tyler rubbed the back of his neck, and Dee noticed for the first time how dark the circles under his eyes were. Wonder how much sleep he’s had in the past three months. She hated giving him the ultimatum, and she held her breath, terrified it would backfire on her. The cops she k
new back home would have laughed or read her the riot act at such a demand. But she had to try. She had to be a part of this. They couldn’t understand what the Bradfords were going through, not really. She did.
Tyler looked at Fletcher again, but Dee was afraid to turn her gaze away from him. “Please,” she said softly.
He looked her over carefully, then finally said, “Sit in the corner. Don’t speak. Don’t emote. Don’t move. Don’t ask them anything until we’re finished. Understand?”
She nodded, relief flooding through her.
He wasn’t quite convinced. “Promise me.”
Dee put a hand over her heart. “Not a word.”
“Not a whimper.”
“I promise.”
He led them out of the room, and they waited in the hall while he retrieved the two brown paper bags of evidence, which he handed to Fletcher. They entered the interrogation room where the Bradfords waited, and Tyler introduced Dee.
Jack Bradford had to be one of the most handsome men Dee had ever seen, with a firm jawline and blue-gray eyes. His rich, dark brown hair, neatly cut and soft, had natural streaks of auburn running through it that Dee knew would glisten red in the sun. His skin, smooth and evenly tanned, made his light eyes even more distinctive.
Nancy’s eyes, however, were dark and brooding, pools of sadness in a face blotchy from crying and lack of sleep. Normally a woman whose olive-skinned Mediterranean beauty matched her husband’s, Nancy was a walking portrayal of grief, with bloodshot eyes sunk into deep hollows and her muscles stretched with tension.
Jack stood immediately, his gaze going over Dee’s face with a doctor’s practiced eye. “You were the one who was attacked in the woods?”
Tyler and Fletcher exchanged an unreadable glance, but Dee focused on Jack. “Yes. How did you know?”
“I may not be at the hospital much these days, but I stay in touch with my staff about business. My office manager has a daughter doing a rotation in the E.R. She asked if I knew you.”
“You,” Nancy started, then faltered. She swallowed, then raised her hand toward Dee, who took it and held it close. “You’re the one who lost your little boy.”
Dee bit her upper lip to fight back the tears, then nodded. “Yes. Three years ago.”
Confusion and apprehension clouded Jack’s face. “What do you have to do with our Carly?”
Tyler’s hands on Dee’s shoulders were gentle but firm, and he guided her away from the table. She settled in a chair against the wall, trying only to keep watch. “We think Dee was attacked because of something she found in the woods, which may be evidence in this case.”
Jack Bradford sat stiffly on the edge of his chair, and put a strong but slender hand flat on the table, his long fingers splayed wide, as if bracing himself for bad news. “What did she find?”
Tyler paused, then squared his shoulders. “We have, in fact, found a couple of items we need you to identify, if you can. Dee found a pair of white sandals—”
Both Bradfords sucked in air, and Tyler held up his hand, as Jack dropped back against his chair. “Please. I want to warn you before we do this. The place where the sandals were found had already been searched extensively. We also know that a lot of that style shoe had been sold this spring. They could easily belong to another child.”
Jack nodded, his voice stern. “Show them.”
Silently, Tyler took one of the bags from Fletcher and sat in the chair opposite the Bradfords. He slipped the sandals out and placed them on the table.
Nancy’s elegantly manicured hand shook violently as she reached for the small shoes. A tall, distinguished woman who normally held herself erect with pride, Nancy had been crushed by her daughter’s disappearance, and she now sat slumped in her chair, as if she were about to fall out of it. Jack put one arm around his wife, holding her tightly, as he let her look more closely at the shoes.
Dee watched the two of them, remembering she’d heard that Jack had tried to return to his medical practice, but his time away from home remained limited. His main mission in life these days were his attempts to keep Nancy sane.
Nancy ran her quivering fingertips lightly over the shoes. “They do look so much…” Her voice trailed off as she turned them over and examined the soles more closely.
She gasped and the shoes slid from her hands, dropping to the table with a soft thump. Nancy turned and buried herself against her husband, sobbing. Wrapping one arm even tighter around her, Jack picked up the shoes and turned them over. His face revealed the same sense of recognition and he pushed them back toward Tyler. “The star on the bottom. That’s not part of the shoes’ design. Carly kept losing her shoes, especially in the summer, and so many do look alike.” He paused, wrapping his free arm around Nancy as well. “Nancy started drawing those stars on the soles so we could tell which ones were Carly’s.” His voice cracked. “Nancy told her it was because she was our shining star.” He leaned his head against his wife’s, clearly fighting the tears as well.
They weren’t alone. Dee swallowed hard, fighting to keep her promise to Tyler. Cascades of grief, anger and empathy washed over her. Snapshots of a laughing Joshua flashed in her head, followed by the sight of him lying gray and still on the pavement near their destroyed car. Tears slipped from her eyes, and she pressed a finger to her lips when Tyler reached for the dress.
He hesitated, holding the bag in front of him. His voice dropped into a tone that sounded both comforting but cautious. “This may be even harder, but I need you to look at it closely. Make sure it really belonged to Carly. It was found in a garbage bin, so the stains on it are normal soiling from the bin. Nothing appears to be linked to Carly’s disappearance.”
Dee held her breath. He’s trying to tell them the stains aren’t blood, she thought, surprised at his awareness of how a parent would think, the assumptions you could jump to when hoping for the best and expecting the worst.
Tyler slowly pulled the dress from the bag, and Nancy wailed, her fingers clutching the blue gingham fabric as if it were a lifeline. Jack helped her straighten the small garment out over the table.
“Is it Carly’s?”
Carly’s dad nodded, pointing to a small flower on the bodice. “Nancy embroidered that. A primrose. Carly constantly plucked them from the side of the stream.” He looked from Tyler, to Fletcher, to Dee, then back at the young chief. “Does this mean she’s dead?”
Tyler shook his head. “Not necessarily. These were found recently and in places known mostly by the locals. We think it’s more likely an indication she’s about to be moved.”
Jack straightened, his expression thoughtful. “Does this mean Carly may still be around here? Still alive? Still in the area with whoever—”
Nancy sat bolt upright, a blast of hope brightening her face. “Could that be true? This could mean she’s still here, still alive?”
Tyler folded Nancy’s hands in his. “Listen to me, both of you. I want to find Carly, too. Desperately want to find her. There may be a lot these sandals can tell us, but right now, we can’t afford to jump to any kind of assumption about them. Please let us work through this, and we will get you any progress as we have it. Please.”
“What about a door-to-door search?” Jack demanded. “If she’s still in Mercer—”
Fletcher stepped closer to the table. “We can’t without probable cause. It’s illegal. Besides—” he cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest “—if the kidnapper has her hidden, a door-to-door search probably wouldn’t turn up anything. It’s truly unlikely one of your neighbors is keeping her in a spare bedroom. If someone has her hidden, a casual search won’t reveal it.”
Nancy seemed to deflate, her face taking on a more resigned look. Jack nodded.
Dee ached with a steady pain that seemed to radiate from her heart into every muscle and bone. More than a physical soreness of the attack, this intense craving grew from her desire to help as well as heal, expanding like a balloon about to explode. She burst f
rom her chair so abruptly that Tyler and Fletcher stepped backward. Her words of pleading erupted from her. “Please. Can I talk to you? Back at your house. One parent to another. Please.” She focused on Nancy. “One mother to another.”
A heavy silence hung in the air a moment, then Tyler put his hand on her arm. “Dee. I don’t think this is the time—”
“Yes.” Nancy stood and came around the table, a determined look suddenly taking form in her eyes. She grabbed Dee’s hands and pulled her close. “We have not done that. Talked to another parent about…Carly. Yes. Please come.”
Dee ignored Tyler’s scowl. “This afternoon?”
Jack stepped up behind Nancy, and his hand closed around her arms, supporting her. His low voice held a comforting rumble. “This afternoon would be fine.” He turned to Tyler. “Please let us know if you find out anything else.”
Tyler stood straighter. “Of course.” He and Jack shook hands, then the young doctor guided his wife out of the office, his hand on her lower back.
Tyler swung toward Dee. “You promised me that—”
“I couldn’t stand their pain any longer.” She plunged on as he started to protest. “I’ve followed this in the papers, Tyler. Y’all are doing everything you can, but I might be able to help them. Them. Not the case. Them.”
Tyler did not relent. “He’s a doctor.”
“But not a therapist. He’s a surgeon.” Impulsively, Dee reached out and grabbed Tyler’s hands, pulling him close. “Please listen to me. I’m not a therapist either, but I’ve been where they are. Even if I only listen and ask about Carly, my guess is that I’ll be able to get them to talk to me in a way they haven’t been able to talk to you. Remember what she said about the star?”
The Taking of Carly Bradford Page 6
