The Stolen Breath

by L. G. Davis

  My stomach clenches when we drive by Oakney High School, the place where I met Clayton. I look away before more memories taunt me.

  Officer Pierson finally stops talking and we reach the house in silence.

  “Are you sure you want to stay here while Clayton is still on the loose?”

  “I’ll be fine. There’s an alarm installed.”

  “Keep the phone with you and call us if he shows up. And let me have a look inside before you go in.”

  “I would appreciate that.” I don’t look at him. My eyes are on my car. To my surprise, it’s still parked where I left it. Actually, it shouldn’t be a surprise. Clayton never felt the need to hide it, as he promised he would. He knew all along that the cops were not after me.

  Thank God I don’t have to worry about how to get my car back. As soon as Officer Pierson is gone, I’m driving out of town.

  Five minutes after he disappears into the house, he comes out empty-handed.

  “All clear,” he says. “It looks like no one has lived in there for years.”

  “Yeah, it’s been empty for a while.” I push open the door and step out of the car.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital for a checkup?”

  “No. I feel fine.” My forehead hurts, and my lungs still feel bruised after I almost drowned, but my discomfort is nothing compared to what Noel is going through. “Thank you for the ride.”

  “Don’t mention it. It’s a terrible thing that happened to you and that British boy. We’ll keep searching for Clayton and your baby. We might return to you with more questions. I suggest you stick around for a while.”

  “I will,” I lie.

  I stand on the curb and watch Officer Pierson driving away to help Noel. They had tried contacting his family members in London, but they haven’t yet reached anyone. Noel’s mother died during childbirth. It was just him and his father.

  We might never see each other again, but I’ll forever live with the guilt that he’s now an orphan because of me. I’m also responsible for the death of the second man who was found on the boat. The police had identified him as someone everyone called Crazy Steve.

  According to the police, he had lived on the streets for years and was probably friends with Clayton during the time when he was homeless. The police also had a theory as to why he had been on the boat. Before he lost everything due to a gambling addiction, he worked as a fisherman and owned a boat of his own. Clayton had probably enlisted him to pilot the boat as he attempted to carry out his twisted plan.

  I search my car before I get into it. No sign of Clayton, so I slide behind the wheel. There’s nothing inside the cottage that I need. I also don’t want to stay long enough for neighbors to notice I’m in town.

  My entire body is on alert as I drive away, occasionally checking to see if I’m being followed. I don’t see anything suspicious.

  I tighten my fingers on the wheel, searching for strength within me. What will I even do when I get back to Sarton? Where can I search for Lea that I haven’t already looked? While Clayton was distracting me, my baby’s kidnapper could have taken Lea far away. But since Sarton is where she disappeared from, it might still be the best place to start.

  I may be wrong, but after reading Miranda’s email, my gut tells me it’s not her who took Lea.

  The first person I need to speak to is Anita.

  Since I no longer trust her, I consider her to be a suspect in the kidnapping of my daughter. And she had direct access to my house.

  The only stop I make is to fill the tank of the car and to grab a sandwich and a bottle of water.

  When I reach Sarton, close to four hours later, the residents are carrying on with their lives, oblivious to the pain I’m going through.

  Instead of my driveway, I park my car in front of Anita’s house. I ring the bell, but no one comes to the door.

  I peer through the downstairs windows, expecting to see her passed out over the kitchen table or the couch, but there’s no sign of life. I have no way of knowing if she’s upstairs. I could get the spare key she gave me, but that would mean going back into my house, facing the memories of my baby.

  The hairs at the nape of my neck start to bristle and I turn to see that Tamara is watching me through her kitchen window. Other curtains on the same side of the road are ruffling. The neighbors are watching me.

  I muster up the courage and head to the place I used to call home. The door closes behind me and I stand in the entryway, my arms around me.

  The air is heavy with negative energy. In my mind, I can hear Lea crying.

  Struggling to hold it together, I place one foot in front of the other until I’m upstairs. In the nursery, I press one of Lea’s t-shirts to my nose, searching for her scent the same way I had searched for Andrew’s scent in his shirts after he died.

  I take her blanket with me to the large window and gaze out into the garden Andrew used to love. There are holes everywhere. One of them must be where they found the clothing stained with blood.

  The blanket flutters to the floor and I follow, hugging my knees to my body. I’m too numb from all the pain to even cry anymore.

  I pull myself together quickly. Life has knocked me down repeatedly, but I can’t stay down. I won’t give in to the urge to crawl into bed and stay there. I need to get up and find my child.

  Driven by anger at the person who took Lea from me, I grab Anita’s spare key and return to her place, letting myself in. If she didn’t kidnap Lea, I know she still holds some pieces of the puzzle.

  A suffocating sensation tightens my throat as I climb up the stairs. Anita is not in her bedroom or any other room in the house. I try calling her cellphone from her house phone, but I only get her voicemail.

  I lower myself onto her quilt-covered bed, my hands between my knees as I rock back and forth.

  When the doorbell rings, I jump to my feet. It could be the police. On my way to the door, I tell myself there’s no need for me to hide from them. I’ve done nothing wrong.

  I peer through the peephole and my shoulders sag with relief. It’s Tamara. I don’t feel like talking to any of the neighbors, but I’m happy it’s her and not the police or Clayton.

  I take a few breaths and open the door.

  “Delia, I thought I saw you,” she says. “Now, what are you doing in Anita’s house?”

  “I needed something and she was not home. I have a spare key. Have you seen her lately?”

  “No,” Tamara says, patting her freshly curled hair. “Not since the police showed up at her door.”

  “They paid her a visit?”

  “Yes, and after they left, she packed a bag and drove off.” Tamara puts a hand on my arm. “How are you, Delia? You were also gone for some time.”

  “I went to find my daughter.”

  “That’s what I thought. Please tell me you found your little girl.”

  I shake my head and bite back tears.

  “I’m awfully sorry to hear that. Are you all right? You have a nasty bump on your forehead.”

  “It’s not as bad as it looks.” I touch the tender spot.

  “I see. Well, I came to tell you that I never thought you did a thing to hurt that sweet little June bug of yours. Once the papers get a whiff of something, they’re like a dog with a bone. No sense of decency at all. But I’m sure your friend Anita has everything to do with it, if you ask me. She looked guilty as hell.”

  “Thank you, Tamara, for believing I’m innocent.”

  “Don’t you doubt it for a second. If I think of any information that could help the officers find your baby, I’ll share it. And I’ll continue to keep her in my prayers. Miracles happen all the time.”

  “That means a lot.” I sit down on Anita’s doorstep, too tired to do anything else.

  I want to ask Tamara to pray that when I find Lea, she will be alive, but saying the words will hurt too damn much. I no longer want to consider the possibility that she might be dead. She can’t be. I nee
d her. She needs me.

  Chapter 33

  They say everyone is famous in a small town. But I’m beyond famous. All eyes are on me.

  I sit in my car in the center of town and gaze through the window. Some people point. Some lean into each other and whisper with their eyes trained on me. Others force smiles and hurry by.

  I do my best to ignore them, to not imagine all the things they’re saying about me. They probably still think I harmed my baby. I choose not to focus on that. I know the truth, and I will hold on to it.

  I shut my sore eyes for a few seconds, then I switch on my new phone, which has been charging the past couple of minutes. I dial Anita’s number again with no luck. The fact that I can’t reach her only proves that she’s hiding something, or someone.

  Is it my child?

  I keep thinking about what Tamara said to me two hours ago, how the police showed up at Anita’s house and she bolted soon after.

  I need answers, and if I can’t get them from her, the police might be able to fill me in. That’s if they don’t arrest me first. I drive the short distance there before I change my mind. It’s only a matter of time anyway before Officer Randall hears I’m back in town.

  Outside the police station, I wait inside my car again, watching people walk in and out of the station. Two police officers glance in my direction, but no one approaches me.

  It takes me twenty minutes before I find the courage to step out of the car and face the police. As soon as I enter the building, my stomach in knots, a female officer recognizes me and starts walking toward me.

  “Mrs. Caswell,” she says with a smile that lights up her green eyes. “Can I help you with something?” Her tone sounds too kind for someone who might want to arrest me.

  “Good afternoon, Officer. I’m actually looking for Officer Randall. Is he around?” I owe him an explanation after the way I blew him off.

  Before she can give me an answer, Officer Randall comes strolling toward us, stirring a cup of coffee with a plastic spoon.

  “Speak of the devil,” the woman says and leaves us alone.

  “Mrs. Caswell.” Officer Randall takes a sip of his coffee, the steam misting his glasses. “I’m surprised to see you here. As you already know, I’ve been trying to reach you.”

  “I know. I’m here now. Are you planning to arrest me? Do you really think I hurt my own baby?”

  He shakes his head. “Step into my office and let’s have a chat.” I’m surprised he’s acting as if I’m paying him a normal visit.

  His office is messy. Papers are strewn across the desk and even on the floor. There’s a dead plant on the windowsill, and four empty cups of coffee are stacked over each other next to his humming laptop.

  “Please excuse the mess.” He picks a paper from the floor and stuffs it into a drawer. “I’ve been busy. Take a seat.” He lifts a stack of folders from the chair he offers me.

  “Thanks.” I lower myself into the chair and tuck my hands into my armpits. “So, are you going to arrest me?”

  Officer Randall unbuttons the top button of his black shirt. His neck is flushed.

  “At first, the clues did seem to be leading to you and we naturally became suspicious when you ran. Especially when I asked you not to leave town.” He takes a seat as well.

  I drop my head. “I’m sorry about that.” Exactly how much can I tell him about what happened in the last couple of days? “I was in my hometown, Oakney. I thought Lea was kidnapped by someone from there.”

  He leans forward, clasping his hands on the table. “May I ask what led you to come to that conclusion?”

  “Yes.” I sink my nails into my right palm. “I received a note from someone from my past. It hinted at the fact that my baby was in my hometown.” I avert my gaze and tell him everything I told the police in Oakney, leaving Tina’s story out of it. There’s no point in complicating things.

  When I’m done talking, he leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest. “This is pretty heavy stuff.”

  “Yes.” I raise my gaze to his. “But I was wrong. I no longer think my baby is in Oakney.”

  “So, you do not believe that this Clayton fella took her? How can you be sure of that?” He picks up his pen and starts writing on the cover of a notebook.

  “I went to the police over there and they searched the boat where he kept me. They didn’t find anything, and they said there was no sign that there had been a baby on the boat.”

  “But you did mention that there was a crib on board.”

  “Yes, there was, but Clayton admitted that he was hoping we would find Lea and start a new life together. He said he was preparing for her return.” My stomach tightens just thinking of all the things he said.

  “Look,” Officer Randall says. “What I’m going to do is try to contact the police in Oakney to see if they have any new information.” He picks up his coffee and takes a gulp. “I do wish you had come to us with the note the moment you received it.”

  “I couldn’t. It was something I had to do on my own. I hope you understand that.” I pause. “Someone told me that you went to see Anita Stark. She’s my neighbor.” I’m no longer sure I can call her my friend.

  He peers at me over the top of his glasses. “Yes, we did. She’s a suspect, but we still have a lot of unanswered questions. Unfortunately, she left town before we had a chance to question her further. Has she been in contact with you?”

  I shake my head. My mouth feels too dry. “Do you have any clues leading you to believe that she’s the kidnapper?” As much as I want to know the answers, I’m terrified of them at the same time.

  “We found several clues, but we can’t say much at this point. I will definitely contact you as soon as we know more. The most important thing is that you’re not a suspect.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that. I know I was struggling. I lost my husband not too long ago, and I was learning to be a good mother. But I would never hurt my daughter.”

  “We know that now.” He won’t look at me. I can only imagine all the things he had thought of me. He must be feeling guilty now.

  “And whatever you dug up in my garden,” I continue, “I didn’t bury it there. Even though there was blood on that piece of clothing, I didn’t hurt my child. And I know I might sound crazy, but I still believe that she’s alive.”

  “You’ll be relieved to hear that the blood on the clothing we found in your garden was not human blood. A witness also came forward to say they saw someone else digging around in your garden.”

  “Anita?” I say, my voice catching. “Was it her?” Would she really take my child and try to frame me for it?

  “That’s what we want to find out. We also have other questions not related to this case. We have contacted law enforcement in other cities to keep a lookout for her.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  “Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to reveal that yet. All I ask is that you remain in town because we might have more questions for you. The time spent trying to hunt you down could be spent searching for your daughter.”

  “You’re right, Officer. Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere, but I will not be staying at my house. I can’t stay there after everything that happened. I’ll be at the Ivy Hotel.”

  I’ve already talked to Ray. When I told him what had happened, he offered me a room at the hotel, telling me that I can stay there as long as I want. He also assured me that my job is still safe and I can get back to it when my life stops spinning out of control.

  “Great. I’ll be in touch.” Officer Randall pushes himself to his feet and reaches for my hand. “Mrs. Caswell, I’m glad you came by. And I promise you that we are doing everything in our power to find your child.”

  They all say that. They’re doing everything in their power. So far, their power has failed me.

  “Do you think my baby is dead?” Now that the blood on the piece of clothing was not human, I’m more convinced that Lea is still alive, but I wa
nt to hear it from him.

  “All we can do is keep hoping, ma’am.” Of course, he cannot promise me anything.

  When it comes to cases like these, things can change in the blink of an eye.

  Sometimes you think you know something or someone, until you don’t. I never imagined Anita would have done this to me.

  Officer Randall escorts me to the front door of the building.

  “I’ll contact you as soon as I know more,” he says.

  “Thank you.” I give him my new number and remember to tell him that Anita was in touch with Clayton. Every piece of information counts.

  Trying to solve a criminal case is like trying to find beads belonging to a broken necklace. Every piece of information is a bead that needs to be threaded until the necklace is complete.

  He writes the new information down and dismisses me with a handshake.

  Back inside my car, I’m too shaken to drive. The idea that Anita could have betrayed me in such an unforgivable manner is incomprehensible.

  How is it possible? She was my friend. She helped me with Lea and insisted on being there for me. Now I don’t even know what we are anymore. Are we still friends?

  When I arrive at the hotel, I climb under the covers and close my eyes, forcing myself to visualize that Lea is back in my life, promising the silence that I’ll do better next time if I’m given another chance at motherhood.

  Chapter 34

  When I open my swollen eyes, the room is flooded with light. Outside my room, people are laughing and talking as they walk down the hallway to go and have breakfast.

  For four days, I’ve held onto the hope that Lea is alive. My muscles are still sore from walking around town, knocking on doors, showing people photos of her, begging them to tell me if they have seen her. I’ve stopped strangers on the street and put up flyers. I left the hotel early every morning and returned after dinner. I even went back to the nanny agency, but I found a note on the door that said it was closed indefinitely.

  The scandal must have driven them out of business after Madison’s photo was all over the papers as a suspect and she was linked to the Little Cradle.