Can't Find My Way Home

by Carlene Thompson

  Brynn couldn’t help smiling. ‘I didn’t think so.’

  They walked into his small office. Brynn couldn’t remember what the office had looked like when Garrett’s father was the sheriff, but the new color scheme continued here. He motioned to a blue and gray tweed chair, offered her coffee from the fresh pot brewing on a side table, then sat down behind his desk.

  ‘You look a lot better than you did yesterday,’ he said.

  ‘Cassie talked me into taking a sleeping pill around nine o’clock and I got a good night’s sleep for the first time in a week. Physically, I feel much better. Emotionally, I feel guilty for feeling better.’

  Garrett smiled. ‘You looked ready to drop on the floor yesterday evening. You deserved a good night’s sleep.’

  ‘I needed sleep so I could do everything I could to help find Mark.’ She took a sip of coffee. ‘Good. Hawaiian Kona?’

  Garrett looked at her in surprise. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘I’m an addict. A gourmet coffee addict.’ She smiled tensely. ‘What did you find out about the call yesterday?’

  ‘We know you received a call at six forty-five that lasted for four minutes and nine seconds. We don’t know who called you.’

  Brynn’s mood dropped a few notches. ‘But my phone showed the caller’s number.’

  ‘Which we called. The call to you came from an unlocked phone.’

  ‘Unlocked?’

  ‘I won’t try to impress you with my computer knowledge. This is what our tech guys have told me. When you buy a cell phone from a cellular provider, the phone is usually configured or locked to work only on that provider’s network. If you buy a phone for GSM carriers—’

  ‘GSM?’

  ‘Global Systems for Mobile communications. Phones for GSM carriers, like AT&T or Verizon, also come with subscriber identity cards that provide access to a network, but if you buy an unlocked phone you can use prepaid SIMs for any carrier. The number we saw on your phone led to a number of a prepaid SIM card.’

  ‘So what it all comes down to is that you weren’t able to trace the call we got yesterday.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And what about any future calls?’

  ‘I’d guess the caller would use the same method with a different SIM card. If the cards are paid for with cash, it’s nearly impossible to trace them.’

  ‘Oh, great.’ Brynn took another sip of her coffee before she slumped in her chair.

  Garrett got up and came around his desk to her, holding out his hand. ‘I’m sure that coffee is lukewarm by now. Let me warm it up for you, bring some color back to your face.’

  ‘I think it’s going to take more than hot coffee to bring color to my face.’ Brynn watched Garrett calmly pour the coffee. ‘Garrett, whoever made that call had to be in sight of the house. They knew you and I were there.’

  ‘Well, my patrol car was out front. And that’s what makes the call interesting. Whoever made it wasn’t just trying to scare you – they also wanted to show they knew I was involved and that I didn’t scare them. They were just as willing to play games with me as they were with you.’

  ‘Which means?’

  ‘I don’t know yet.’

  Brynn sighed.

  ‘I know you feel like we don’t know anything, but you have to remember that I only found out about all of this less than twenty-four hours ago. We can’t work miracles.’

  ‘I know, but I feel like we’re not doing anything.’

  ‘You mean I’m not doing anything.’

  Brynn said nothing.

  ‘I’m doing all I can at this point,’ Garrett said calmly. ‘I’ve contacted the Baltimore police and told them everything about this case, including the fact that Mark was the son of Jonah Wilder, who many people think was the Genessa Point Killer.’ Brynn noted with gratitude that he’d said ‘who many people think’ was the GPK, not stated that he was the son of the GPK. ‘I’ve also notified the FBI. The information about Mark will be put in the National Crime Information Center as a missing person.’

  ‘The FBI doesn’t have all the information about Mark they need. I should talk to them,’ Brynn said urgently.

  ‘Brynn, after the phone call at Cassie’s, I took all the recent stats on Mark – height, weight, coloring. Don’t you remember?’

  ‘They don’t have a picture.’

  ‘Yes, they do. Cassie took a Polaroid of him. She gave it to me.’

  Brynn ran a hand over her forehead. ‘I suppose I was more upset yesterday than I thought. I’m not losing my mind – I guess I was in a daze after that phone call. I thought a good night’s sleep had cleared my head, but it doesn’t seem to be as clear as I thought. I remember now, though. And I’m feeling better. Tell me what I should do next.’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Nothing? I came here to find my brother or at least to help look for him, Garrett.’

  ‘Brynn, when you came in here, you thought you had “it all together.” You didn’t. Now that you remember everything that happened after the call, you’re back to thinking that your mind is perfectly clear. It isn’t. That’s why I’d like for you to just sit back and let us look for Mark.’

  Brynn suddenly felt angry. ‘I can’t. I won’t.’

  ‘I thought you’d feel that way. I know how you are.’

  ‘You don’t really know me at all,’ Brynn said stubbornly. ‘Since you’re the detective, though, do you have any news about Mark’s car?’

  ‘I’m not a detective. I’m the county sheriff. And the only news I have is that the blood on the back seat of the car is O positive.’

  ‘The most common type and, of course, Mark’s.’ Brynn felt tears pressing behind her eyes, but she would not show weakness. ‘Anything else of forensic value in the car?’

  ‘It’s still being processed. We don’t have the lab resources of a big city police force.’

  ‘I’m frustrated but I get it. In the meantime, I’d like to see Mark’s motel room.’

  ‘We haven’t finished processing it, either.’ He paused. ‘I hate to keep saying no to you.’

  Was he really sorry to keep saying no to her? Brynn looked at him closely. In some ways he resembled his father with his strong features and his rare, tight smile. She could tell that, like his father, he didn’t trust people easily. If he was wary in general, he’d certainly doubt Stone Jonah Wilder’s daughter. But the expression in Garrett’s eyes seemed sincere and she reminded herself that Garrett was not his father. Yesterday, he’d made a point of saying so in a tone hinting he didn’t want to be compared to his father.

  ‘Maybe you can see his room this afternoon,’ he went on. ‘We’re gathering fingerprints, which is hell in a motel room.’

  ‘I’m sure it is.’

  ‘You can take a quick look around, though. Are you familiar with all of Mark’s stuff?’

  ‘Not really. I haven’t seen him for almost a year. Clothes are a loss. When he wasn’t working at the bank, he lived in blue jeans. Cassie would know more about the shirts he wore when he was here. He’s into cameras, computers, smart phones – all that electronic stuff. He probably has a lot of new things I haven’t seen. On the other hand, I know money’s been tight for him this year. He might not have much new equipment.’

  ‘Well, you can tell us what items you remember when you see the room,’ Garrett said, already starting to rise from his chair. ‘In the meantime …’

  ‘In the meantime, I guess there’s not much I can do.’ Brynn stood up.

  ‘Go sightseeing. Don’t think about Mark. Just amble around and let your mind relax.’ Garrett sauntered toward the door, looking relieved that she was leaving. ‘The town’s changed quite a bit since you lived here. You might be surprised by how it’s grown, how much better it looks.’

  I don’t care how it looks, Brynn thought, but she didn’t argue. Garrett walked down the hall with her. Brynn wondered if he was making sure she left the building. As they passed the main room, Savannah jumped up and rus
hed to them. ‘Dad, have you decided what you want me to do?’

  Garrett looked at her in near despair. ‘I guess I could take you back to stay with Mrs Persinger.’

  ‘Dad, she’s a hundred! She wants to teach me how to crochet doilies! Doilies! I had to look in the dictionary to see what they are!’

  ‘Well, you could stay here …’

  ‘Until three o’clock?’

  ‘I’m going sightseeing,’ Brynn announced. ‘I could use a guide.’

  Savannah’s face flashed from petulant to exultant. ‘I can be your guide!’

  Garrett’s expression went stony. ‘Oh, I don’t know about you going off with Brynn.’ Brynn turned an offended face toward him and he began to backpedal. ‘I mean, I know Brynn doesn’t want to drag around a kid and a dog.’

  ‘I’m not a kid!’ Savannah announced hotly.

  Brynn knew she shouldn’t interfere with Garrett’s authority over his daughter. But at the same time, she felt bruised, desolate and scared. She was afraid if she had to leave this place by herself she’d simply sit down on a sidewalk bench and burst into tears.

  Brynn said abruptly, ‘I’d enjoy the company of a young woman and a dog like Henry.’ At the sound of his name, the dog looked up, powdered sugar from a doughnut lacing his whiskers.

  Savannah begged, ‘Oh, Dad, please?’

  Brynn looked at him pleadingly. She felt slightly underhand, knowing he didn’t want Savannah to go with her. At the same time, she realized the girl admired her and wanted to spend time with her. ‘We’ll have Henry to protect us.’

  Garrett looked like he was thinking, but Brynn could tell he was already caving in under the weight of a double whammy from two girls, not to mention Henry’s dancing paws and wagging tail. The dog had picked up on the word ‘walk.’ Garrett sighed and said reluctantly, ‘I guess I’m outnumbered. All right, but don’t go far.’

  ‘We won’t. Oh, thanks Dad!’ Savannah gushed.

  Brynn smiled. ‘Yeah, thanks, Garrett.’

  Henry barked and Brynn and Savannah laughed.

  Brynn, Savannah and the dog were descending the steps in front of headquarters when Garrett opened the front door they’d just closed and called, ‘Don’t talk to strangers.’

  Don’t talk to strangers, Brynn thought. How many victims of the Genessa Point Killer had been told the same thing before they left home?

  ‘There’s the Genessa Point Museum,’ Savannah said, pointing to an old, stone building. ‘Do you want to go there?’

  ‘Not really. I was there a dozen times a long time ago. Besides, it’s too nice a day to spend inside a musty old museum.’ Brynn looked down at Henry. ‘I doubt if they let eighty-pound dogs in there, anyway.’

  Savannah smiled. ‘He’s closer to a hundred pounds. The vet says he needs to lose at least ten.’

  ‘All those doughnuts he ate this morning won’t help a diet.’

  Savannah started laughing as the dog walked calmly beside her, his long, feathery tail swishing, looking up at the sound of her laughter. ‘He did make a pig of himself, but he eats too much when he’s mad. This morning we were both mad. Dad acts like I’m a little girl.’

  ‘He just worries about you. Do you know why he didn’t want you to be alone today?’

  Savannah hesitated, then looked up with a candid gaze. ‘Something’s happened to your brother. I’m not supposed to know, but I heard Dad talking on the phone about him. Mark? Is that his name?’

  ‘Yes. Mark is missing.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but Dad will find him. Dad’s a super-good policeman.’ Savannah’s gaze shot around eagerly, obviously searching for something to entertain Brynn. ‘Oh, look!’ she cried. ‘There’s your second book in the bookstore window!’

  ‘So it is.’ Brynn looked at the book that had seemed to write itself, unlike the book she now struggled over day after day. ‘I’m afraid bookstores will be a thing of the past soon. So many have closed and not as many people read these days as they used to.’

  ‘I love reading. The biography in your last book says you live in Miami. Can you see the beach from your apartment?’

  ‘No, but I’m only a few blocks away. My place is on the seventh floor. I have a terrace that looks out over the city.’

  ‘Oh, wow, that must be so exciting!’

  ‘It’s nice,’ Brynn said, thinking she should enjoy it more than she did. ‘I walk to the beach nearly every day, even though I usually don’t go swimming.’

  ‘I’d go every day, too.’ Savannah studied her for a moment. ‘I love your top. You look all floaty, like a butterfly.’

  Brynn giggled. ‘A butterfly? Is that good?’

  ‘Oh, very. And your necklace and dangling earrings are … just to die for.’ Brynn could tell Savannah was trying her hardest to sound sophisticated. ‘Are those butterflies?’

  ‘No, they’re dragonflies.’ Brynn bent slightly at the knees and let Savannah look at them and her necklace. ‘I’ve been obsessed with dragonflies since I was about five. My dad read to me about them and I learned they have two sets of wings and can fly thirty-five miles an hour, forwards and backwards, up and down, or just hover like a helicopter. But I was especially fascinated that, according to myths, dragonflies were once dragons.’ Brynn grinned at Savannah. ‘You can imagine how that blew the mind of a five-year-old!’

  Savannah grinned back.

  ‘My brother even gave me a nickname – Dragonfly. He never called me that in public – it was our secret. I loved having a secret nickname. Anyway, I bought this necklace and the earrings three years ago. I almost always wear them, particularly when I feel like I need to be powerful. When I was a kid, I wore something similar, but much cheaper. Not much more than a trinket.’

  ‘That is so cool.’ Savannah paused, then burst out: ‘You’re just fabulous, Miss Wilder!’

  Brynn broke into laughter. ‘As long as you think I’m fabulous and not silly, I’m happy.’

  ‘Oh, you’re not a bit silly,’ Savannah said earnestly. ‘Did you always want to be a writer?’

  ‘I guess so. When I was younger than you I used to write short stories sometimes, but I wasn’t really trying and they weren’t very good. It wasn’t until I was about fifteen that I got serious and spent all my free time writing. That time I put my soul into my stories. I must have written about thirty of them before I decided that someday I’d write a book.’

  Writing saved me, Brynn thought. She’d escaped her own sad reality by creating a beautiful world where good people never died and everything worked out in the end. But she wouldn’t go into all that with this young girl she’d just met.

  ‘I write stories, too, but I’m always disappointed in them when they’re done,’ Savannah said.

  ‘Just keep working at your writing. Someday you’ll be successful.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘You’ll never know unless you try and you try and you try. Don’t give up.’

  ‘That’s what Dad says when I’m unhappy with one of my stories.’

  ‘Does he want you to be a writer?’

  ‘He says he wants me to be what I want to be, but after he read your second book, he said if I worked hard enough, I might get to be a really good writer like you.’

  ‘Like me? Really? How … nice.’ Brynn was surprised. She would never have guessed Garrett Dane would want his daughter to be anything like Brynn Wilder. Suddenly self-conscious, she looked around. ‘There’s Holly Park. I used to go there. Is it the same?’

  ‘They’ve made lots of changes the last couple of years. Now it’s even better than before. It’s a good place for Henry, too.’

  ‘Great. It’s right across the street from police headquarters. If your dad gets worried, he can just look out a window and see you. Still, I think I’d better leave a message for him, telling where we are. Do you have a cell phone?’

  Savannah dug in a pocket and held one up.

  ‘Then call your dad and tell him where we’ll be.’

  Beca
use he’ll be mad as hell at me for taking you away, Brynn thought, her mind darting back to the phone call they’d gotten at Cassie’s less than twenty-four hours ago. Someone is obviously watching me and I just swept his daughter away like she was my own child. How foolish—

  ‘Dad said Holly Park’s fine,’ Savannah announced cheerfully, interrupting Brynn’s spiral down the well of self-criticism. ‘He said we should just stay in the park, though, and not go anywhere else.’

  As they walked into the four-acre city park, Brynn remembered coming here with Mark, her mother and especially her father, who’d told her the names of all the trees and shrubs, which she’d promptly forgotten. She’d wanted to break free of Mom and Dad, to ramble on her own and meet up with her gaggle of friends. How the years change you, she thought. Now she’d be thrilled to stroll through the park with her parents and Mark, no matter how long her dad spent explaining the Latin names and proper care of all the foliage.

  ‘Over there they built three little shops I really like,’ Savannah said. ‘One Henry can go in, the other two he can’t.’

  They walked over and Savannah looked up as one of the doors opened. The girl’s face paled as she gazed at the woman with long, light auburn hair draped over the shoulders of a sleeveless, navy-blue dress that fit her tall, slim body as if it had been made for her. ‘Hello, Savannah,’ the woman said coolly. ‘Taking a stroll with your dog?’

  ‘Hello, Rhonda.’ Savannah stood, looking unsure of herself. ‘Yeah, I’m taking Henry for a walk. And showing Brynn around. Brynn Wilder. She’s a friend of my dad’s.’

  Rhonda turned slightly. She had the coldest gray eyes Brynn had ever seen. They traveled up and down Brynn twice, almost giving her a chill. Finally she said, ‘Hello, Miss Wilder. It is miss, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. Or Ms.’ Rhonda continued to openly scrutinize her, taking in every detail.

  ‘I’m afraid I didn’t catch your last name,’ Brynn said.

  ‘That’s because Savannah didn’t properly introduce us. I’m Rhonda Sanford. Miss Rhonda Sanford.’ Staring frigidly at Brynn, she asked, ‘Are you here for the festival, Miss Wilder, or did you come to see Savannah’s father?’

  If she’d only asked about the festival, Brynn wouldn’t have known what was wrong with this beautiful yet icy woman. But the overly curious, possessive way she said Savannah’s father spoke volumes. ‘I came for the festival,’ she answered, feeling as if the warm summer air had dropped at least ten degrees. ‘I’m staying with Cassie Hutton.’