by Deborah Noel
As I stood there contemplating, Declan’s jeep skidded to a stop half way up the driveway. He darted through the house, and was standing next to me outside, before I had a chance to realize who it was. He stood looking around for a brief second. It looked like he was taking mental pictures to retrieve and study later. He grabbed my hand and pulled me along at his furious pace. He did stop for a second beside Bullet and scooped him up into his free hand.
We went back through the house and were in the car and down the street before I could even blink. He was focused on our destination.
In my loudest voice I could muster up I yelled, “What the hell is going on?”
He turned left, then right without saying a word. He pushed the gas pedal down, almost through the floor with his strength.
He turned to me, “Mattie is missing. She’s…”
Anything else he said was drowned out by the buzzing in my head. My stomach churned and I had to hold back the bile that had risen. I heard again her brief scream for me before I had thrown up my mental wall. Without thinking, I reached for the handle of the door, ready to jump from the car to…what? I didn’t know where my daughter was. In my mind, the thought that Mattie was in trouble, crying for me, needing me, hurting, shattered my heart into a million bleeding bits. Declan’s sharp “No!” kept me from hurtling out into the street.
“We have to help her!” I cried, choking over my tears and terror. “Declan, we have to help her!”
Though I felt my husband had been speeding before, it now was as though we were standing still. “Hurry! Hurry, Declan!”
That was all I heard. My heart was in my throat. My ears shut out all sounds. My stomach dropped to under my feet. My eyes let go of burning tears. I felt cold, then hot as beads of sweat exited through my pores like the tears streaming down my face. I got cold again.
“Mattie…” I muttered over and over.
In less than three minutes we pulled up to the school that housed preschool through eighth grade to help save our small community money and were greeted by officers. Sam’s car with flashing blue lights screeched to a stop besides ours.
“Stay in the car,” Declan ordered.
“No fucking way,” I fired back without realizing what had come out of my own mouth.
“I was talking to the dog.” Declan said, “Please, Cianna, try to remain as calm as possible.
“Our baby is missing from school, Declan, and you want me to remain calm?” I was as amazed by my ability to speak as with Declan’s calm demeanor.
“Either remain calm or stay in the car with Bullet,” he demanded. “We need to find out what happened and if you are freaking out at everyone, it will only hinder finding her.”
He was right. I took a deep shaking breath and gathered myself together.
As we walked closer, Sam was already speaking with the officers on the scene. He glanced our way, nodding his head at the officer and motioning for us to approach with his hand.
I called for Mattie in our secret unspoken voice, praying she could answer me. It was to no avail, her voice had gone silent. The tears that I had stemmed fell again in rivers.
Sam rested his hand upon my shoulder. “She was dropped off this morning as usual. A witness said he saw a man waiting until she got inside the door before he walked away. My guess is that that was Shane, making sure she got inside. She went outside for recess and never returned to class. They are interviewing the teacher who was covering recess to see what she saw.”
“Where is Shane now?” I asked.
Sam’s eyes doubled in size, “What do you mean?”
Declan jumped in, “He never returned home after dropping off the girls.”
“Is he missing or is he a suspect?” Sam asked Declan inaudibly, though I could hear him too.
“I never got a bad vibe from him Sam,” Declan answered to just Sam. “He’s done nothing but help with the girls and I never saw anything ill when I combed his mind.”
As if on cue, a small compact car pulled up and parked beside our jeep. A young lady dressed in blue jeans and a plaid shirt locked eyes with Declan and walked up to us.
“Excuse me, are you Declan?” she asked.
“Yes,” my husband answered and I could see him silently scrutinize this stranger with his eyes.
“Oh good, Shane told me I would find you here,” she sighed with relief.
“Shane?” Sam, Declan and I echoed together.
She looked at each of us, “Yes, Shane. He got into a pretty bad fight after he dropped Mattie and Marcy off this morning. He heard over the police scanner that there was a problem here at the school and sent me here to tell you.”
Declan looked to me asking for me to let him handle this with his eyes.
Sam jumped in, “And you are?”
She stuck out her hand, “I’m Shane’s girlfriend, Branwen. It’s an Irish name, please call me Brae.”
“We didn’t know that Shane even had a girlfriend,” I said sharply.
Declan shot me a warning look.
Brae met my eyes. “Well, I just came in from Ireland yesterday. I had to wait until my classes were completed.”
Sam stepped in and took charge. “Where is Shane now and how badly is he hurt?”
Anyone could see that this young girl was trying hard not to be intimidated by Sam. She was all of five foot tall. Her short red hair was groomed in a pixie cut with the top seeming to spike at attention. Her full face was dotted with freckles against its pale hue. She screamed “Irish” in her appearance.
“He’s at me loft, about three miles away. He is banged up pretty good. I think he has a concussion, but he disagrees. He thinks he cracked a rib or two. He’s got quite a rainbow of colors surrounding his eyes, and his knuckles are torn and swollen,” she informed us. “He says he’s no worse for wear and says the two who attacked him got their fair lickens.”
Declan and Sam continued to question Brae. I wandered off, angry with them not focusing on Mattie and tried to make contact again with my missing daughter. I yelled for her in my mind again, clearing all of the background noise from my skull, hoping to hear a cry out from Mattie.
Our world had gone quiet.
I wasn’t aware of the hand upon my shoulder, nor Declan standing beside me. But I was acutely aware of the new hollow void in my chest and the bombarding fears causing my stomach to want to empty its contents out in front of me where my un-shaking faith in my ability to keep my daughter safe used to reside. The tears still coursed down my face. Declan did the best he could to pretend to be strong as he tried to comfort me. Still, a tear managed to slip down his cheek.
He lifted my chin to bring my eyes to his, “We will find her. I promise.”
I could feel myself losing my composure. “Who, Declan? And why? She’s just a baby. I moved away to protect her. I failed.”
Declan fought his own turmoil inside, I could feel his body tense. He drew in a deep breath. “You didn’t fail, Cianna. We will find her.”
My knees started to buckle.
“Be strong for her, Cianna,” Declan whispered in my ear. “Be strong.”
I cried my daughter’s name again in my mind as loud as I could. The silence was deafening. The lack of response shattered my heart and all I could hear was the pieces of my breaking heart hitting the ground, splintering more.
The dreadful feeling that was taking a strangling hold of my soul was crippling.
Sam called over to us. We looked his way and he motioned for us to come back to him. Brae was making her way to her car.
Declan supported most of my weight as we rejoined Sam.
Sam explained that he spoke to Shane on Brae’s phone. He was apparently assaulted by three individuals. Shane didn’t know nor recognize the assailants, but did seem to think that they were trying to find someone, which would have made them trackers.
I looked to my uncle; my eyes widened with a whole new vile fear. Declan held me tighter.
“I wanted to send a Uniform over
to take a report, but if they are trackers, we have to keep this under the radar,” Sam went on. “Shane managed to lure them to Brae’s flat where he has two held subdued in her bathroom. One got away.”
Declan leaned in closer to Sam and lowered his voice to a whisper, “There was an incident at the house.”
Sam looked to me.
I only nodded in agreement.
“It’s connected,” Declan assured him. “But first things first. We need to focus on finding Mattie.
“What about Marcy? Is Marcy still here?”
“Yes, she is. She’s in the nurse’s office. When Mattie wasn’t accounted for, the teacher went to make sure that Mattie hadn’t gone to be with Marcy. When Marcy realized that Mattie had gone missing, she fainted and was taken to the nurse’s office immediately. She is resting,” Sam informed us.
In the parking lot, police officers with their tracking dogs were setting up a command post where directions would be issued for the upcoming search. Quickly each dog smelled Mattie’s sweater for her scent. The faster the search started the better chance there was to find my daughter. Bloodhounds and their trainers set off in different directions, the dogs howling.
To my horror, Mattie’s trail ended just off school grounds.
“What does that mean?” I begged of Sam.
“Simple,” Declan offered. “That she was put into a vehicle or carried.”
I wailed for Mattie again telepathically as I forced myself to walk to the edge of the playground. I got no response. I fell to my knees. The heart inside that I recently had pieced back together was now, once again, shattered into countless shards.
I felt hollow inside.
My daughter had been ripped from me and I didn’t know if I would find her, could help her, or bring her back to the safety of her family. I thought of never being able to hold her, smell her, hear her voice, see her hand reach unerringly for me and I died inside.
I had failed her.
On my knees in her elementary school parking lot, I screamed at the top of my voice for Mattie. I felt the pitiful stares of those around me. Pitiful, yes, but also silently thanking the Gods that it was not them in my position. I heard some mumbled words of comfort from those closest to me, but there was no response from the one I needed to hear from. My world stood silently still. And it was silent. Mattie couldn’t talk to me.
Chapter Twenty
Declan came up beside me. He wrapped his arms around me and I clung to him, needing to feel the solidness of him, trying to draw in some measure of strength from him. He held me while I sobbed, then quietly told me that Sam wanted to talk to him.
Without looking at him, I told him I needed to be alone for a little while longer.
He respected my wishes and walked away. I heard Sam and Declan talking not too far away, but their words were incomprehensible to me.
I stood there thinking of Mattie, and worse than imagining that she was crying for me was feeling that she doubted that I could save her, doubting that I would come for her while she cried for me. I died just a little more. I thought that I might not ever have Mattie’s little hand, always able to nestle so snugly in mine, ever reach for me again and I buckled. My heart could not function, and I wanted so badly to give in to the numbness that promised relief. But I tried one more time, in my mind, to make contact with Mattie. I listened harder, concentrated deeper. Still silence.
I just stared off across the fields. There was nothing as far as I could see. My body started to convulse.
I faintly remember Declan scooping me into his arms. When I finally came to, Declan was able to talk some sense into me, enough to get me to go back in the car and go with him. He drove me out to the Castle.
It seemed to have been such a long time since I was last there. The memory of the disaster on the beach was a distant faded movie in my mind. It was just a glimpse of a horror scene that had no effect at the moment.
We were behind the waterfall and Declan was opening the door before I snapped into reality for a quick visit. I was more like a zombie, catatonic. I mechanically went to Mattie’s room. I laid myself on the bed and drank in her sweet innocent smell on the pillows. Tears soaked the fabric.
I heard Declan telling me what he was going to do, but I wasn’t cognizant enough to register what he said. Bullet was left back to stay with me.
I slipped in and out of the conscious realm.
When Declan came to check on me, hours had passed. Since I hadn’t heard Mattie call to me, I knew before I even saw his face that she was still missing. Our baby was still in the hands of strangers. Still hoping I was wrong, when he entered the room, I jumped up anticipating that Mattie had been found and this horrid nightmare was over.
I saw in his face that that was not the case.
I sank and balled into a tighter circle. Declan came and sat on the bed with me, crying. We held each other against the terror and the guilt. There was nothing to be said; we both knew that until Mattie was found our world would never feel the same.
He told me he had to get back to help with the search. He stood up kissed the top of my head, hung his own and left.
Chapter Twenty-One
Declan reappeared in the doorway, this time I only lifted my head to greet him. His eyes gave his answer away. I started to cry. Before he could come to me, I held up my hand to stop him.
Again, he hung his head and left. Was it hours, days later when I pulled myself out of bed? I looked around Mattie's room.
My eyes fell on the pajama top, inside out, on the floor, dropped where Mattie had been standing and a sledgehammer of pain landed square in my gut. Then I looked down at her bed where I had lain, the covers had been pulled up in her 5-year-old attempt at making the bed; this time the sledgehammer landed somewhere about my shoulders.
The small, framed picture of Mattie and me, sitting haphazardly on the dresser became my focus, the thumbprints that decorated the frame, made to look like animals with little Mattie-sized bodies, and the pain exploded in my heart, behind my eyes.
My soul shattered. How could I be standing here while Mattie, small and scared, was somewhere in a place I couldn't find her, crying for me and her daddy to come save her?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Another visit. No news.
There was no change. I had no concept of time. Had days passed?
I finally found the strength to change my clothes. As I shook out the shirt I intended to wear, one of Mattie's little green ladybug socks fell to the floor at my feet.
I vomited right there where I stood.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I couldn’t take the emptiness anymore. I couldn’t stand the useless feeling eating away at me as I cried in my daughter’s bed. I couldn’t take the nightmares waiting behind my eyelids, trying to tug them closed.
I called out for Mattie again. I listened intently.
Nothing.
I was restless. I couldn’t sleep peacefully. I couldn’t just lie here. I couldn’t sit still. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t keep myself focused. I had no coherent thoughts. I was antsy. I clenched my fists. I was beginning to get pissed off. I began to pace.
Even the beautiful ambiance that this place always held for me was beyond my grasp. I began to feel claustrophobic. I had so many thoughts, questions, words, and God knows what else bombarding my mind. They all meshed together, none standing apart from the other. It was just a big jumbled mass of nothingness. Normally this would cripple me with a migraine headache. I couldn’t even tell you if I had a headache now, I was so numb.
I considered myself a “why/how” person. I had an obsessive compulsive need to know the whys and hows of everything. I was also a half-breed. It was my family’s secret. My bloodline was one mixed of human and Irish pixie heritage. Because of this I possessed telepathic abilities. I had an uncanny eye for details – obvious and obscure. I analyzed every situation to exhaustion. I created every scenario in my mind – good, bad and indifferent. I hated surprises; I hated h
aving someone have a thread hanging over me, no matter what the circumstances. I now hated even more that someone had my daughter and I didn’t.
I was 29 years old.
I married, at 19, my lifelong sweetheart, Declan Liam Fitzgerald. We grew up together and were inseparable. It was just natural for us to get married.
My mother, Mairead Anna Sheehan, was killed by drunk driver, who made a bad decision and got behind the wheel of a two-ton vehicle, when I was 20. My father, Dougal Healy, disassociated from life shortly after the tragedy. I had two older sisters, Kelsey Shioban, my twin, and Grace Elin. I hadn’t seen either in over six years.
I had no control over my family from parting ways, especially since my mother’s death. My father chose his own path and my sisters simply moved on with their lives.
By 21, I was a decorated Crime Scene Investigator, working with my uncle in a small town in Northeastern Pennsylvania. I chose the profession in order to help solve the murder of my mother.
I was good at my job. I had an uncanny eye for detail. I could feel things that I needed to pay attention to. I exhausted all avenues of possibilities until the right one presented itself.
I was void of that ability now and that didn’t help find my missing daughter.
A year into the new job I found out I was expecting. Declan and I were ecstatic. Our family of two was growing.
Less than a year later, after investigating just six gruesome murders, I retired. The last murder I investigated (Declan’s twin brother) messed with my mind so perversely that I thought my best course of action was to leave my husband to get our unborn child as far away from the area to keep her safe. I betrayed myself, my husband, and our love. I turned my back on the love of my life in the name of protecting our child from a harm that only existed in my own mind.
