Missing Daughter

by Rick Mofina

  “Want to talk?”

  “I just want to be alone.”

  Karen thought then said, “That’s okay. I’ll stay home with you.”

  “It’s not necessary.”

  “No arguments, young lady,” Karen joked, smiled and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  Alone in her room, Maddie was admiring the Hope bracelet Tyler had given her, then staring at the sunlight filling her bedroom window when her phone vibrated with a call.

  It was her uncle Cole.

  “How’s it going today, Maddie?”

  “It’s hard, really hard.”

  “Are you bothered by last night?”

  “It wasn’t easy. It’s very stressful.”

  “I know, but you’ve got to keep doing your best.”

  “I’m not sure I can, Uncle Cole.”

  “Yes, you can, sweetheart. You can. Everybody loves you. We’re all pulling for you. You can do this.”

  “But it’s not easy, especially with the kids at school.”

  “What about them?”

  “Most are nice but some are asking questions, like how come I can’t remember anything, and some are saying mean things.”

  “Well, you’re famous, and that kind of reaction from people comes with the territory. I know how it is. But kids will be kids and you just got to shake it off. Keep going. Take each day one at a time because that’s how they come, and remember to do one thing.”

  “What?”

  “To realize how blessed you are.”

  After her uncle’s call she thought about what he’d said, not knowing how much time had passed before Karen returned with a tray she set on the table beside the bed.

  “I want you to eat something. Come on, sit up and talk to me.”

  Maddie inventoried the scrambled eggs, bacon, yogurt, fruit, toast and juice. She picked up a strawberry.

  “I know it’s hard but talk to me, honey, please. What’s troubling you?”

  “I’m scared about a lot of things. I had this whole life here, and I don’t remember it.”

  “It’s going to take time.”

  “But it feels like I’ll never connect with it. People tell me things, like I had a friend who died of cancer. Don’t remember her. There was a boy I liked who moved to France. Don’t remember him, even when I look at pictures of them.”

  “It’ll come back. It takes time to process, like Dr. Hartley said.”

  “And the bad stuff I’ve learned about you and Dad, your tragedies, arguing with me, Dad pulling me into the truck in that video. That all scares me.”

  “I know. We have to work through that together. Try to concentrate on all the happy times our family’s had, look at those pictures of us at Christmas, birthdays, Uncle Cole’s barbecues—”

  “But that’s just it. I can’t because I’m so afraid.”

  “What’re you’re afraid of?”

  Maddie looked at her window.

  “I’m afraid that whoever took me will find me and take me again.”

  67

  Darrell Robert Nybee.

  Aged twenty-nine.

  They processed him downtown—fingerprints, mug shots, an array of charges. They submitted his prints to the state’s computerized criminal record index then checked him for any prior criminal records.

  Nothing came up.

  Good-looking, clean-cut, no tattoos, possessing an air of intelligence, Nybee cooperated without speaking unless it was necessary.

  His life as he knew it had irrevocably changed.

  Furious with himself for what had happened, he took no comfort in the snippets of conversation the homeowners had given to the responding police unit. “Canceled flight...changed our plans...come home to find...” And the gun man he’d fought with was limping, grunting between curses before an ambulance took him away.

  Nybee hadn’t appeared before a judge yet. But bail was likely, the lawyer he’d called had told him. Now, sitting in his cell wearing an orange jumpsuit and waiting for her to arrive, he assessed his situation. He was jammed all right, but he had an ace up his sleeve.

  A big one.

  And this is the time to play it.

  A series of electronic buzzes sounded, followed by clanking and jangling. Then the cell door opened and a guard appeared.

  “Lawyer’s here, Nybee, let’s go.”

  68

  In my darkness... I hear the soft bump of the ladder at my window...a dark shadow...a face in the night outside my window... I lay still... Oh God I’m frozen with excitement...thoughts galloping like wild horses... It’s really happening...

  69

  The guard escorted Nybee to the secured visiting area and placed him in one of the small booths. Each side had a phone. A glass partition separated him from Wendy Bloom, his criminal defense attorney.

  She looked to be in her late thirties, had a stylish bob with a side bang, wore a suit and looked all business when she pulled a legal pad with notes and paper-clipped reports from her briefcase.

  She picked up her phone. He picked up his.

  “Hello, Darrell, I’m Wendy Bloom.” She gave him a business smile.

  He nodded, thinking she had nice eyes as she glanced down at her notes. “I’ve got a summary of your background. I’ve read your information. No priors. You haven’t seen a judge yet, haven’t been arraigned. We have a good case for bail, but your charges are likely to be enhanced.”

  “Why?”

  “You fractured the homeowner’s knee when you assaulted him.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just didn’t want him to exercise his legal right to kill me.”

  “Darrell, on the phone you indicated there’s something I should know.”

  “I want you to negotiate reducing the charges and work a deal.”

  “And why should I do that? The case against you is pretty solid.”

  “I have information to offer on another case.”

  “Which case?”

  “The case of Maddison Lane.”

  “The missing Syracuse girl?”

  “Yes.”

  “But they found her in Florida.”

  Nybee explained what had happened a few years earlier when he was working on a house in the new Willowind subdivision. What he’d witnessed and what he’d recorded. He didn’t tell anyone at the time because it would’ve put him at the scene of a crime. As he recounted details, Bloom’s skepticism evaporated and she made notes. When he’d finished, she tapped her pen on her pad.

  “What do you think?” Nybee asked.

  “There could be something here to work with, but I’d have to see this evidence you claim to have before I consider approaching the DA.”

  “You will, as soon as you secure bail and get me out.”

  70

  I am not alone in the dark anymore...he’s really there...thoughts twirling in my head...swirling...making me dizzy...he really came...he’s at my window...standing on a ladder like Prince Charming...my window’s opening wider...slowly...wider...slowly...he’s in my room... Oh my God you came... Dalton!... Dalton! I can’t believe you’re here in my room... I can’t believe it’s happening...so exciting...he came just like he said he would... “Want to go to cool party with me, Maddie? No one will ever know. We’ll keep it secret just like the pictures we show each other... Come with me...it’ll be so fun...” It’s like a dream...like I’m Dalton’s girlfriend...so cool...so exciting... I grab my shoes, my hoodie, my phone... I’m climbing out my window into the night with Dalton, the coolest cousin in the world...my heart’s thumping so fast. I can’t stand it...

  71

  Asher got two empty boxes with lids from the photocopy room and placed them under her desk.

  “You know it breaks my heart when you do that in
front of me, Fran,” Zubik said after watching her.

  “Don’t look so forlorn. I’m not leaving for weeks. I’m doing this now because Nick Colson’s been scooping up all the good boxes since he sold his house.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” Zubik loosened his tie and spread his hands over his files and keyboard. “It’s not you, it’s this case.”

  “Lane?”

  “Yes, Lane. We’ve hit a wall. The cognitive interview was a bust. The girl can’t remember anything useful. How long has she been back, and we’ve got nothing. Nothing on who took her, what happened in the four years she was gone. Nothing on how she ended up in Florida.”

  Asher settled in at her desk and began working on her computer.

  “Something will break. It always does, Stan.”

  “No, not always.” Zubik sifted through the case file folders. “Did you make those follow-up calls to Castillo and Powers in Florida to see if they found any new video, anyone who had contact with Maddison before she got to the shelter?”

  “I did this morning and nothing. But they’re working on it.”

  Zubik began reading tips called in and shaking his head.

  “So many unfounded reports that lead nowhere,” he said.

  “Also, once again,” Asher said, “I submitted Maddison Lane’s fingerprints, the ones we collected from her room when she vanished to AFIS, NCIC, Interpol, every database we can in case she’d been processed in another jurisdiction. Zero results.”

  “Look at this.” He held up a page. “Another unfounded confession from a disturbed individual who says he abducted Maddison Lane into his spacecraft and is holding her hostage on Mars.”

  “Stan, we could try another recanvass of the mystery number, you know, the last number she’d communicated with before she disappeared, track the path on the map for the cell phone tower signals?”

  Zubik didn’t respond. He was reading another tip report.

  “What is it?”

  “A woman whose daughter attends the same school as Maddison says there’s a rumor flying around that the girl who returned to Syracuse from Florida might not be Maddison Lane.”

  Asher stuck out her bottom lip. “That’s a new one. What do you think?”

  Zubik dismissed it and tossed it back in the file.

  “I think that one’s nuts, too. That girl is Maddison Lane. We saw the birthmark, the age-progressed photos. It’s her. This is just the seed of a wild conspiracy theory, from the tin-foil-hatted community.”

  “Stan.” Asher smiled. “What happened to checking out every tip, every lead, no matter what, because that’s what good detectives do?”

  “All right, we’ll check out this one right after we go to Mars.”

  Zubik’s landline rang and he answered.

  “Stan, Lorenzo Bartucci at the DA’s office. I’ve been talking with a lawyer for a guy on burglary assault.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Her client claims he’s got solid evidence in the Maddison Lane case.”

  Zubik rolled his eyes. “And how many times have we heard such things over the years?”

  “Well, his evidence is a video.”

  “A video?”

  “The lawyer just showed it to me. It looks legit, and it’s very troubling. You need to see it, Stan.”

  72

  Karen finished washing dishes at the sink.

  She looked out the window to the forest, happy and grateful to have Maddie back. But it pained her to see Maddie unable to adjust and connect with her family and the life they had.

  In a corner of her heart, Karen tried to suppress the tiny concern that her daughter seemed different somehow than what she’d expected since her return. Karen hadn’t seen any of her or Ryan’s mannerisms or family traits in Maddie—not as she did when she was younger. It must be a result of the trauma she experienced. The doctors had warned that it could take a toll in a number of ways.

  It tormented Karen that they didn’t know what had happened to her in the four lost years. She couldn’t bring herself to imagine what Maddie might have endured. And when Karen replayed what Zubik had said, how whatever happened to Maddie could still be happening to others, she grew terrified.

  God, please help us find the answers we need.

  Karen dried her hands on a dish towel, turned and was startled.

  Maddie was standing in the kitchen, hand cupping her jaw and cheek.

  “I’ve got a toothache and it hurts so bad.”

  Collecting herself, Karen took Maddie’s shoulders. “Open up, let me see.”

  Maddie groaned and opened. It wasn’t good. Everything was swollen and inflamed along her lower right gum. She wailed when Karen gently pressed her cheek.

  “It really hurts!”

  “Okay, get dressed. I’ll call the dentist. We’ll go right away.”

  “I saw a listing for a new dentist who specializes in emergencies,” Maddie said. “Dr. Foley. Ow.”

  “Okay, I’ll check.”

  Maddie got ready and Karen went online, made a quick call for an emergency appointment, then changed. In the car, Maddie leaned her head against the window, moaning as they drove to the practice of Dr. Samantha Foley. It was located in a new, small office complex.

  When they entered the office—thick with its antiseptic smell—the receptionist hurried around her desk and greeted Maddie with a big hug.

  “Oh my gosh, there she is! Our little hero!” The receptionist smiled. “I followed all the news about you. This whole city worried and prayed.”

  Stifling her pain, Maddie threw a questioning glance at Karen. The awkward moment was not lost on the receptionist, who had large-framed glasses and dangle earrings.

  “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry! It’s me, Kitty Marie. I used to work for Dr. Bannister, remember? Why didn’t you go there? I mean we’re happy to see you but he’s your regular dentist.”

  “He’s never been able to take us for emergency appointments in the past,” Karen said, “and Dr. Foley’s site said she welcomed walk-ins.”

  “She does. Sam just opened up here last month. She’s from Albany—her husband’s a doctor there and she’s still back and forth until he opens his practice downtown. I left Dr. Bannister to work here because I live two blocks away. Oh, I’m such a gossip. Enough gabbing. Let’s take care of Maddie. Karen, if you’re still at the same address, I can set up a new account here if you’d just give me something official with your address.”

  Karen handed her family’s health plan card to Kitty. “So we’ll start with an entirely new file here for Maddie?”

  “That’s right. Have a seat. It’ll just be a minute before the assistant will take Maddie into a room. Karen, you can go in with Maddie, if you like.”

  “Do you need me to be with you?” she asked her daughter.

  Maddie shook her head.

  “Sam’s just finishing with another patient and will take you next.” Kitty Marie returned to her desk and resumed working.

  Veronica, the dental assistant, wore a face mask, hairnet, protective plastic glasses and gloves. After she guided Maddie into a treatment room where soft music was playing, Veronica made her comfortable in the patient chair.

  Dr. Foley came in, also dressed the same way, but with glasses that had small headlights like those of a surgeon. She had very nice eyes and was smiling behind her mask.

  “I hear you got a heavy-duty toothache,” Foley said. “Let’s have a look.”

  They reclined the chair until Maddie was lying flat. They swung the blinding dental light into position. Maddie opened wide and Foley examined her mouth.

  “Does the tooth hurt at night?”

  Maddie nodded.

  “When was the last time you visited a dentist, or had X-rays?”

  Maddie shrugged.

  Foley made several technica
l comments to Veronica who made notes in the new chart they’d created for Maddie.

  “You’ve got a few cavities there, and a few other issues, but your pain is from an abscess in the lower right. We’re going to take some X-rays, then I’ll freeze it and we’ll take care of it, okay?”

  Maddie nodded.

  While waiting for the freezing to take effect, Dr. Foley reviewed Maddie’s radiograph and the notes in her chart.

  There were signs of gingivitis, a little plaque accumulation and tartar buildup. Judging from the cavities, Maddie showed a pretty high sugar intake. The radiograph showed some bone loss. Maddie might need a root canal and a crown or two down the road.

  It appeared as if she hadn’t seen a dentist in a long time.

  Maddison Lane. Why is her name familiar?

  It rings a bell, but I’ve been so busy these last weeks, bouncing between here and Albany. I’d like to see her records from the last time she visited a dentist. For now we’ll treat her, take care of her pain, make appointments for future work and get her home.

  Maddison Lane. Maddison Lane. I know I know that name...

  73

  After watching Maddie and Karen leave the dental office and get into their car, Kitty Marie smiled.

  “Boy, that was something,” she said as Dr. Foley and Veronica finished some paperwork at the reception counter.

  Veronica pulled off her mask. “Yes, it breaks my heart to think of what that child’s been through.”

  “Hold on.” Dr. Foley pulled off her mask and removed her glasses. “Is that the girl who was missing all those years and was found recently?”

  “Yes, Maddison Lane,” Kitty said.

  Foley nodded. “That’s why her name’s familiar.”

  “I know the Lanes from when Maddie was a patient at Dr. Bannister’s.” Kitty typed a few commands on her keyboard. “I got my friend Sally over there to transfer Maddie’s old records to us. You’ve got them now, Sam.”

  “Thanks, I’ll take a look. You got consent from the Lanes, Kitty?”

  “Um, not yet, but Sally knows me. I’ll send the consent form to Karen, and we’ll get it signed. It’ll be okay.”