by Lisa Regan
Finding her composure again, Josie took a step back, away from the woman. “Mrs. Fadden,” she said. “I need to focus on this investigation. Please just show me the break in the fence, would you?”
Charlotte gave her a knowing smile that only stoked the irritation growing inside her at the woman’s overly familiar behavior. Trying very hard to keep her expression blank and professional, Josie watched as Charlotte turned and led the way in silence. Ten minutes later, they came to a portion of the fence that was bent into a V shape.
“Looks like a tree fell on it,” Josie said. “Did anyone remove a branch?”
“It’s certainly possible,” Charlotte said. “We do use any branches found on the forest floor for firewood. We store it up for the winter.”
“How long has it been like this?” Josie asked.
“Oh, we don’t know. Could be weeks, could be months. As I said, one of my people just mentioned it to me, but he wasn’t sure how long it’s been like this. He only noticed it a week ago.”
Josie sighed. She could find nothing suspicious about the damaged fence, but she snapped some photos of it with her phone anyway and marked it on the GPS map, noting it was nearly four miles from the campsite.
“Mrs. Fadden, we’ve got a K-9 unit en route to try to locate the missing female. The dog and handler may need to access your property. Would that be okay with you?”
“Of course, dear,” Charlotte answered with a smile. “Anything we can do to help.”
The faint rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. Before they started back to the farm house, she fired off a text to Noah.
Headed back now. Hope you’re ready. Need to get the hell out of here ASAP.
Ten
In the car, as they left to return to Denton Police headquarters, Josie put the air conditioning on full blast, turning the vent nearest to her so that it blew the icy air directly into her face. She groaned with pleasure as she weaved through the narrow rural roads, leaving Lenore County behind and entering south Denton. The sky had gone almost black with the impending storm. Thunder boomed in the distance.
Noah ran down the list of people he had interviewed. There were twenty-seven in addition to the people Josie had spoken to. Their ages ranged between eighteen and fifty-three. They’d been living at the Sanctuary anywhere from three weeks to seven years. They came from all over the state and others came from Maryland, Massachusetts, and Virginia. Each of them had sought out the Sanctuary after struggling with something in their lives: addiction, domestic violence, homelessness, depression, or just a general sense of aimlessness. All of them had given the shortest possible answers to Noah’s questions. None of them recognized Tyler or Valerie Yates. None of them had heard or seen anything suspicious or unusual in the last twenty-four hours.
“I think they might have been coached,” Josie suggested. “The girl in the barn—Renee Kelly—I think someone is hurting her.” She recounted the encounter for Noah.
“You think whatever’s going on with her had anything to do with the Yates couple or our missing camper?”
Josie sighed. “I don’t know. Not without getting more out of her.”
“You think you could get her to talk?”
“Given enough time, out of view of the others, yes, I think so.”
“We might have to come back then,” Noah said. “Depending on what else we find.”
“There’s a lot we don’t know yet. We really need to dig into the Yateses’ lives, see if we can figure out the identity of this missing camper, and I want to talk with Dr. Feist when she finishes the autopsies.”
“What the hell was going on with that Fadden lady?”
“I don’t know,” Josie said. “She’s very odd.” She wanted to tell him her suspicions about Charlotte being some kind of psychic—even though Josie didn’t believe in psychics—but then she’d have to tell him about the calls from Muncy prison. Instead she asked, “Do you think I’m easy to read? Like, can you tell exactly what I’m thinking by looking at my face?”
Noah laughed. “No. I mean, I probably can most of the time just because we spend so much time together, but you’re not an open book. Why?”
“Oh, no reason. I was just curious. Did you find anything when you were looking around?”
“Nothing of interest at all. I mean, I don’t know how those people live like that, but I didn’t find anything that seemed connected to the investigation. We should have some units come down here and do a more thorough search of the entire hundred acres, though. I asked and Charlotte agreed to that.”
Lightning flashed in the sky. Several seconds later, there was a sharp crack of thunder.
“Yeah, she agreed to letting our K-9 unit on the property as well,” Josie said.
“They seemed pretty open. Cooperative.”
“Charlotte did,” Josie agreed. “The others seemed… so out of it. Either that, or they were coached.”
“Well, yeah, there was that. Certainly none of them were volunteering anything. But they did make it pretty easy. Answered all questions, showed us around anywhere we wanted to look. I checked out the greenhouse. Nothing there. The cabins are practically falling down. No signs anyone is living in them. I don’t think the third camper made it onto the commune.”
“Me neither,” Josie said. “But it’s so close to the campsite, I don’t think we can ignore it.”
Raindrops began to fall on the windshield.
“Of course,” Noah said. “I’ll see if the units searching around the campsite can go over to the commune before the end of the day. Also, I called Mett while I was waiting for you to walk back. He ran the Yateses’ names through the Penn DOT system and found a black 2017 Jeep Grand Cherokee registered in Tyler Yates’ name. Moore said his team is going to see if they can locate it in Lenore County. Mett called dispatch and had them put out the word on the Denton side that we’re looking for it.”
“Great,” Josie said. “What about their phones? Did Hummel get into them?”
“No,” Noah said. “They’re password protected, but Mett’s writing up warrants to send to their phone carriers to see if we can access whatever’s on them.”
“Next of kin?” Josie asked.
“Dr. Feist is looking into it.”
The rain began to fall harder and faster. Enough for Josie to turn her wipers on.
“Any chance you contacted the Fox Mill Police Department?”
“To see if Tyler and Valerie Yates had been reported missing?” Noah said. “I did. You were in the woods with that Charlotte woman a long time.”
“I know,” Josie said. “What did Fox Mill PD say?”
“Neither of them has been reported missing.”
“Not surprising,” Josie mused. “Their camping trip was probably planned. When we talk to their next of kin, we’ll find out more. Social media accounts?”
“Didn’t have time to look at those yet.”
Rain poured down steadily now. Josie turned up her wiper blade speed, eyes straining to keep focused on the road ahead of them.
“We’ll do it as soon as we get back,” she said.
“After we eat. I’m starving.”
“We’ll order food,” Josie agreed. “We can get something from that—”
Her words were cut off. Her knuckles suddenly went white on the steering wheel, and she swerved wildly to avoid a woman stumbling into the middle of the road.
“What the hell?” Noah said. He put both hands on the dash as Josie braked abruptly. She pulled the vehicle over onto the shoulder of the road and threw it into park.
“Did you see that?” she asked as she threw open her door. “That woman. She came out of the woods. Come on.”
They raced out into the rain and back into the road to where the woman was now on her knees on the double yellow lines that ran down the middle of the tarmac. She was young. Her wet brown hair was long, tangled, and matted with twigs and leaves. Her skin was deeply tanned and streaked with dirt. The soles of her feet were
black with bruising and a crust of dried blood. For a moment, Josie was confused. She was certain she hadn’t hit the woman, so why had she fallen? Had she slipped in the rain? But as they drew closer, Josie saw that she was curled around her distended abdomen, both of her hands clutching the fabric of her saturated threadbare, plain shift dress where it gathered between her legs. She was pregnant. Very pregnant.
“Miss?” Josie said as she approached, shouting to be heard over the steady thrum of the rain. “Miss?”
The woman let loose a howl so loud and high-pitched that it startled both Noah and Josie.
“Let’s get her out of the road,” Noah said.
They each took one of the woman’s arms. At first, she flailed against them, but then another howl tore from her body. As they dragged her toward Josie’s vehicle, Josie noticed the bright red blood flowing down the insides of her legs.
“Good lord,” Noah said. “What happened to her? Miss? Miss? Can you tell us your name?”
As they reached the rear of her vehicle, Josie popped the hatch. “She’s having a baby, Noah.”
He stopped, stunned. “Right now?”
“You didn’t notice her belly? Help me get her into the back.”
The woman grew heavier as another contraction took her, and she tried to curl into herself.
Noah said, “Well, yeah, but I didn’t think— She’s having a baby right now? We need to call an ambulance.”
“And we will,” Josie said, straining under the weight of the woman. “But help me get her into the back of the car so I can have a look at her. Noah, please.”
They turned her back toward the opening of the rear of the vehicle, and each of them hooked their arms under armpit and thigh, lifting her quickly so that she was seated in the hatchback. The open hatch offered blessed cover from the sheets of rain falling down on them. In the distance more thunder cracked, and the black sky turned white with lightning.
“Miss!” Josie shouted over the woman’s groans, trying to get her attention. But her eyes had glazed over.
Noah was on the phone with dispatch asking for an ambulance and trying to pinpoint their location.
“We’re on Route 9227,” Josie told him. “About three miles outside the Lenore County line. Mark us on the GPS unit and they’ll be able to find us.”
She didn’t keep much in the back of her vehicle, just emergency items: a flashlight, portable car jumper, some bungee cords, a jack, a portable air pump, a blanket, and some paper towels. The only things of any use at the moment were the paper towels and blanket. The woman thrashed as Josie tried to put the rolled-up blanket behind her head.
“Miss,” she said again, yelling over the sound of the rain pounding on the car’s roof and open hatch.
The woman’s eyes finally landed on Josie. They were wide with terror. “Help me,” she said.
“We’re going to help you,” Josie told her.
Noah stepped forward and leaned in toward her. “Miss,” he said. “What’s your name?”
Josie held up the paper towels and pointed toward the woman’s groin. “I need to have a look, okay? Try to clean you up a little? See what’s going on?”
But as another contraction slammed into her, she reached out and grasped Noah’s shoulder, pulling her into him. “Help,” she screamed. “Help!”
Alarmed by the rate at which her contractions were coming, Josie snapped on a pair of gloves usually used at crime scenes and gently pushed the woman’s knees apart. She lifted the hem of the woman’s dress and pushed it toward her protruding abdomen. Josie used a wad of paper towels to clear some of the blood and fluid from her inner thighs. She wasn’t wearing underwear. As Josie gently spread the woman’s legs further, she gasped.
“What’s the matter?” Noah said.
The woman now had his neck fully circled in her arms, pulling him off-balance. He was ash-white. Rain rolled down his nose and dripped into the woman’s face.
“We don’t have time to wait for the ambulance,” Josie said.
“What? What the hell are you talking about?”
“The baby is crowning.”
“What do you mean, crowning?”
Josie gave him a sharp look. “Noah,” she snapped. “This baby is coming right now. I need your help. Push her leg up toward her head, would you?”
When he hesitated, Josie took one of his hands and fitted into the space behind the woman’s knee. “Push,” she told him. “Get it as far up toward her head as you can.”
“Help,” the woman screamed again.
Josie was counting in her head. The next contraction was seconds away. She reached up and pried one of the woman’s arms from Noah’s neck. Inches from the woman’s face, Josie looked into her eyes. “The pain is going to come again,” she told her. “When it does, I need you to push. As hard as you can. Do you understand? Push.”
A long second ticked by and then the woman nodded vigorously. Josie lifted her other leg, pointing the knee toward the woman’s head, and placed the woman’s free hand on it. “Hold here,” Josie told her.
The woman did as Josie said and with her other hand, she dug her fingers into the back of Noah’s neck. He winced. Her eyes squeezed shut as another contraction began. “Push!” Josie shouted. “Push!”
The woman bore down, screaming with the effort. The baby’s head pushed out, and Josie guided it along until the entire skull was in her palm. She glanced back up at the woman who was watching Josie with something that looked like horror. “Stop pushing! Stop!” Josie shouted. The tension drained out of the woman’s body for a moment. Josie used a finger to clear mucous from the baby’s mouth. She didn’t have a bulb syringe, so this would have to do. She tried not to think about how unsanitary the entire scenario was; instead, she smiled at the woman. “Good,” she said. “Very good. Get ready to push again, okay?”
The woman nodded. Then her gaze went toward Noah. Her hand slipped down to his shoulder and she fisted his shirt sleeve. He smiled reassuringly at her, and Josie saw her face go from a momentary calm to excruciating pain as another contraction set in. Josie tapped the woman’s leg. “Time to push again,” she said. “Push, push, push!”
She bore down again and this time, the baby’s shoulders slipped out.
“One more,” Josie said. “One more big push.”
But the woman seemed not to hear her. Her eyes were focused on Noah. “Again,” he told her. “You have to push again.”
She seemed to understand, squeezing her eyes shut once more and half-grunting, half-screeching. A second later, the rest of the baby slid out and into Josie’s waiting hands. She fitted one palm beneath him, and she used her other hand to clear his airway again. “It’s a boy,” she said.
“A boy,” Noah said, looking from the baby to the woman’s face. “A boy. It’s a boy.”
Josie kept trying to clear his airway, but there was no cry. He didn’t move. In her hand, his little face began to take on a bluish hue. “Oh Jesus,” she said. “Noah, something’s wrong.”
She laid the baby down on the floor of the hatchback next to his mother—as far as the umbilical cord would reach—and started to give him compressions with her index and middle finger. She fitted her mouth over his, gave him two rescue breaths and then resumed compressions. The mother’s leg came down, bouncing off the side of Josie’s body.
“Noah!” she shouted.
He reached across and gripped the woman’s other leg, pulling her toward him and keeping her limbs from hitting either Josie or the baby. Josie repeated the compressions and rescue breaths again. Adrenaline coursed through her body. Sweat mixed with the rain and poured down her face. “Come on, little guy,” she urged the baby. “Breathe for me. Breathe for me, baby.”
Finally, the baby’s limbs began to move and shift. Josie continued to rub his chest, trying to stimulate him further. Relief flooded through her as his mouth opened wide, and he sucked in a long, stuttering breath that he then let loose in a cry loud enough to rival his mother’s.
Josie scooped him up and held him against her.
“Should we cut the cord?” Noah asked.
“I don’t know,” Josie said, raising her voice to be heard over the baby’s cries. “I think we should wait for the ambulance.”
“What the hell is that?”
Josie looked down to where Noah pointed between the woman’s legs. “That’s the placenta,” Josie said. “It’s okay. It’s supposed to come out.”
She cradled the baby against her, looking into his tiny face. “Want to see your mom, little guy?” she whispered.
She looked up at the mother, ready to hand over her son only to see that all color had drained from her face. She tried to catch the woman’s gaze, but her eyes rolled back into her head. Her death grip on Noah loosened and her arms fell slack to her sides. Blood began to pour from between her legs. Far more blood than could possibly be normal.
“Oh God,” Josie said. She held the baby out to Noah. “Take him.”
“What’s wrong?” Noah asked, taking the baby in his hands, careful to maneuver the umbilical cord out of Josie’s way.
“She’s hemorrhaging,” Josie said. She ripped off several paper towels and stuffed them between the woman’s legs, but the blood kept pouring out. Josie reached behind the woman’s head and extricated the blanket. “I can’t stop this,” she said. “She needs medication, a transfusion, something. Goddammit, where is that ambulance?”
Her words were swallowed by another jolt of thunder, followed quickly by a blinding flash. They had to get out of here, but all Josie could think of was keeping this woman alive. She kept the blanket pressed against the woman’s pelvis with one hand while she reached up and felt her throat for a pulse. It was thready but still there. Lightly, she tapped the woman’s cheek, trying to bring her back to consciousness. “Miss,” she called. “Miss!”
Panic was starting to well in Josie’s chest when she finally heard the wail of the ambulance siren. She left the woman unconscious in the back of the vehicle with Noah standing inches away, clutching the screaming infant, and went out to the road, waving her gloved, bloodied hands over her head to draw their attention.
