Before She Was Found

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Before She Was Found Page 18

by Heather Gudenkauf


  “I can’t promise that,” he says.

  Officer Grady heads back toward the depot and I return to the boxcar. “Violet, please,” I beg through the doorway. “You have to come out.”

  The very worst thing I can do is yank her from her hiding place. Violet is not a violent girl, but when she feels cornered or anxious, she kind of freaks out. Has since she was a toddler. In kindergarten she was known as a runner. The kid who would dart from the classroom and out the front doors when things didn’t quite go her way. I thought she had outgrown it.

  I climb back inside the boxcar, the skin on my hips and shoulders rubbed raw from the narrow fit. We sit shoulder to shoulder in silence for a few minutes, though I’m eager to get her out of here. I don’t know how long Officer Grady will be patient.

  “They’re bad,” Violet whispers and a shiver runs through me.

  “Who is?” I ask. This is the first time I heard her mention more than one person.

  “You won’t believe me,” she says tearfully. “No one believes me.”

  “I believe you,” I say fiercely. “I promise. Do you know who stabbed Cora?” I ask. “Can you describe them to Officer Grady?” I wonder if there is a sketch artist in a police department of this size. Probably not. But then I think of the drawing in Violet’s sketchbook. Maybe that will be enough.

  “I told you—Joseph Wither.”

  I try to keep the frustration from seeping into the expression on my face. I promised Violet I would believe her. “Okay, it was Joseph Wither.” I think about what Officer Grady said about questioning the known pedophiles in the area. Pedophiles—plural. I’m not naive but how can such a small town have more than one? “How did he know you were going to be there?” I manage to ask.

  “Cora talked to him,” Violet says, setting her chin atop her bent knees. “They talked to each other.”

  “Cora?” I ask, thoroughly confused.

  “Through a chat room and emails.” She begins to cry. “I think he’s going to get me next.”

  I slide my arm around her shoulders. “He won’t. I promise you there is no way I’m going to let anyone hurt you, but you have to talk to Officer Grady. You have to help him find the people who hurt Cora so they can’t hurt anyone ever again. Okay?”

  “I don’t think I can,” she says, looking helplessly up at me.

  “Of course you can. You’re my brave girl, right?”

  “You can’t catch someone who is already dead, can you?” she asks and it takes me a second to realize she’s serious. She thinks a ghost or a ghoul, whatever this Joseph Wither is, stabbed her best friend and evaporated into thin air.

  “Who else was there, Violet? Who else hurt Cora?”

  She hesitates but finally speaks. “Jordyn.”

  “Jordyn?” I repeat. “Jordyn helped stab Cora?”

  Violet shakes her head. “No. I don’t think so. I don’t know. We were just going to play a joke on Cora. Scare her, but Cora wasn’t scared. She said she already knew that we were going to play a trick on her—that she wasn’t scared one bit. That she knew that Wither wasn’t going to hurt her. He loved her.” Violet pauses in her story to take a deep breath.

  “Jordyn called her crazy, said he wasn’t real, and Cora said he was. Jordyn pushed Cora down. Hard. She fell against the train tracks. That’s when I ran. I ran and hid.”

  I’m afraid to speak. Afraid that my voice will interrupt Violet’s train of thought and she’ll stop talking. But I have so many questions. When I’m sure that Violet isn’t going to go on, I say, “If Jordyn pushed Cora down, don’t you think it makes sense she stabbed her, too?”

  Violet shakes her head. “No, Jordyn ran away, too. I saw her run.”

  “But she could have come back, right?”

  “I saw something moving through the grass. It was going toward Cora. She was sitting on the tracks holding her arm and crying.” Violet shivers and presses her face into my neck. “I couldn’t watch. I ran away but I heard the screams. I swear someone else was there. It was him. It was Joseph Wither.”

  “Oh, Violet,” I say, holding her more tightly. “You have to tell Officer Grady all of this. You have to tell him everything.”

  “But Jordyn will hate me. She told me not to say anything.”

  “When? When did she tell you this?” I ask. I had no idea that Jordyn and Violet had even spoken since the overnight.

  “She called the house last night. We talked for just a second.” Violet sniffles. “She told me not to say anything about their fight. She said if I was her friend I wouldn’t say a word.”

  “Jordyn’s not your friend, Violet,” I say angrily. “Friends don’t ask you to tell lies. Just tell the truth and everything will be okay. Let’s go and talk to Officer Grady. And, Violet, whatever happens, you have to stay calm, cool and collected. Got it?”

  Violet manages to give me a halfhearted smile. That’s what I used to say to her when she was younger and I’d drop her off at school. “Remember, the three C’s, Violet,” I’d say. “Stay calm, cool and collected and everything will be okay.”

  I lead Violet to the door and watch as she carefully climbs out. On instinct I go back and grab the jar filled with paper and tuck it under my arm. I suck my stomach in and force myself from the boxcar. “You ready?” I ask and she nods.

  Together we cross the train yard to where Officer Grady and Max are waiting along with an ambulance and another police officer. The lights are still flashing but at least the sirens have been silenced.

  “Can Violet come with me? We’ll go right to the station. She has a lot to tell you,” I say. Officer Grady shakes his head.

  “I’m sorry, I have to follow procedures. The EMTs have to check her out.

  “It’s okay, Violet.” Officer Grady leads us to the ambulance and I reach for her hand but she pulls away and then I see the small crowd that has gathered.

  “Fuck,” Max says under his breath. I want to pinch him for swearing out loud but I feel the same way. “Where did they come from?” About half a dozen people have gathered just outside the train yard.

  “They probably heard about it on the scanner,” Officer Grady explains, disgusted as I am about the ghoulishness of the onlookers.

  “Just ignore them,” I murmur. “Pretend you don’t see them and get in the car.” Heads down, with Violet between us, we hurry toward the cars.

  “Be careful now,” a voice calls out from the crowd. “Joseph Wither might be around here somewhere.” Nervous laughter comes from the crowd.

  “Don’t listen to them,” I say through clenched teeth but Violet looks around frantically.

  “I think he’s over there,” the voice calls and I scan the crowd looking for the idiot bent on scaring my daughter. Clint Phelps. He keeps showing up like a bad penny.

  Max looks like he’s going to explode. “Stay put,” I tell him. Clint gives me one of his famous smirks and it’s all I can do not to walk over to him and knock it from his face.

  “Or maybe over there.” Clint tosses his chin toward the winter wheat.

  “Shut up, Clint,” Max says. Tears roll down Violet’s face as two EMTs begin to move cautiously toward us. I don’t like where this is going. I don’t like it at all.

  “Does he knock at your window at night?” Clint singsongs. “Does he come and sit on your bed? He’s coming for you next.”

  Max has had enough. “Asshole,” he says as he rushes toward Clint and barrels into him. As Officer Grady moves to break up the fight between Clint and Max, the EMTs approach Violet, who looks wild with fear.

  “I don’t want to go,” Violet cries and to my horror pulls out my canister of pepper spray.

  “Violet, put that down,” I order. To the EMTs I beg, “Please don’t hurt her. She’s just scared.”

  “We’re not going to hurt her, ma’am,” the female EMT tells me. “W
e’re trying to keep her safe. Now please move back.” Reluctantly, I move away from my daughter. The EMT says to Violet, “I know you’re upset. That boy said some mean things and that scared you.”

  I glance over at Max and Clint and see that Officer Grady has stepped in to separate Max and Clint but I notice, with some satisfaction, that Clint has a bloody lip. I just pray that Max doesn’t get arrested for assault. Or Violet for that matter.

  “Violet, my name is Laura, and this is Ray,” says one of the EMTs. “We’re here to help you, okay?” Violet slowly retreats until her back is pressed against the boxcar, the pepper spray still clutched in her hand.

  “Please, Violet,” I beg, “don’t run. Please put down the pepper spray.” I’m crying and the sight of my tears seems to have gotten through to Violet. She slowly lowers her hand.

  Officer Grady stands between the two boys, arms outstretched to form a barrier. “You saw him tackle me,” Clint gripes.

  “Go sit in your car,” Officer Grady orders Max. “Now.” Max, breathing heavily, looks at Clint like he’d like to get in one more punch but thinks better of it and throws open the car door, climbs inside and slams it so hard the window shakes. “You—” Officer Grady points at Clint “—are going to the station.”

  “What did I do?” Clint protests. In one swift move he turns Clint around, pushes him against the car and pulls out a pair of handcuffs. “You see that little girl?” Clint darts his eyes to Violet, who has thrown the canister to the side and slid to the ground into a pitiful heap. I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “You are interfering with official acts,” Officer Grady snaps. “You can sit at the station until your mom comes to pick you up. And if you keep arguing, I will arrest you.” This seems to do the trick and Clint finally shuts up.

  The EMT squats down next to Violet and speaks to her in a soothing tone. “It’s okay, Violet. No one is going to hurt you. Take two deep breaths. Can you do that?” Violet gives a long, shuddering breath, then another, but her body is still tense. “Good job, Violet. Good job. Now, do you think you can sit up?” Violet nods and pushes herself into a sitting position. “Nice work, Violet,” the EMT says. “You let me know when you’re ready to stand up, okay?” Violet peeks up from beneath her veil of hair and looks relieved to find that the crowd is gone.

  After Officer Grady has placed Clint in the back of one of the cop cars he walks toward us slowly, as if he’s approaching a frightened bird with a broken wing. “What happens now?” I ask him. “What are they going to do?”

  “Protocol is they have to take her to the hospital.”

  “But she’s fine now. See? Please don’t do this.” The EMTs have helped Violet to her feet and are guiding her toward the ambulance. She looks dazed, sleepy. “Did they give her something? A sedative?”

  “I don’t think so. Sedating a patient is a last resort. Sometimes, after an outburst, they can be pretty tired.” This isn’t a surprise to me. When she was younger, after Violet had her tantrums, she would crash for a good hour or two. What is a surprise to me is that Officer Grady called Violet a patient.

  “Violet isn’t hurt, look at her.” We both watch as the EMT helps Violet into the back of the ambulance.

  “Listen, Beth. You have to admit, something isn’t right here. The three times I’ve encountered Violet, she’s had some kind of episode.”

  “She’s terrified. Of course she’s not handling this well. Please, just let me take her home.”

  Grady presses his lips together. “Can’t do it. We have to get her checked out by a doctor. Make sure she’s okay and then we’ll go from there.”

  “Listen.” I lower my voice so no one else can hear. “Violet told me that Cora and Jordyn Petit had a fight at the train yard. Jordyn pushed Cora down. Have you questioned her? She made Violet promise not to say anything. Don’t you think it makes more sense that Jordyn and someone else are pretending to be Joseph Wither and lured the girls to the train yard? What about Clint?” I nod toward the police car where Clint is staring daggers at us. “He’s the crazy one. Who teases a little girl like that?”

  My comment about Jordyn seems to have gotten Grady’s attention because he pauses to write something down in his notebook. “We’ll check that out, I promise, but she has to go to the hospital. It’s the rules. She was in my custody and then got loose. I’m sorry.”

  “Then she can come home?”

  “Then I can finish asking her questions about the other night and then we’ll see what happens next. Come on, you can tell her you’ll meet her at the hospital.”

  I feel like Grady is finally starting to listen to me. We walk over to the ambulance where Violet is sitting on the loading deck. Violet looks up at me apologetically. “I’m sorry,” she says, pressing her face into my midsection.

  “I know, honey. The EMTs are going to take you to the hospital just to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I don’t want to go,” she cries. “I’m sorry. I told them I’m sorry.” She clutches me desperately.

  “You can come and sit back here with her the entire way,” the EMT assures me.

  “Can I go tell my son to meet us at the hospital?” I ask and the EMT nods.

  I tilt Violet’s face so she is looking up at me. “It’s okay, Vi, it’s okay.” I kiss her on the cheek and take a step back. “I’ll be right back.”

  Blindly, I walk to the car where Max is waiting for me. “What’s that?” he asks.

  I look down at the jar tucked under my arm. I nearly forgot about it and am surprised that Officer Grady didn’t ask me about it, too.

  “I don’t know,” I say as I hand it to him. “But I think it might be important. I’m riding with Violet. Bring it with you to the hospital. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

  Case #92-10945

  Excerpt from the journal of Cora E. Landry

  Dec. 21, 2017

  I don’t know what I’m more nervous about—giving the report to the class tomorrow or that Joseph wants to meet me in person. It’s weird but I feel like we’ve been friends forever. I feel like I can tell him anything. Talk to him about everything.

  Now that we’re finished with the project I won’t have an excuse to be on the computer so much anymore. I wish I had my own cell phone, then I can talk to him any time I wanted to. I have some money but there’s no way that my mom will let me have one, even if I pay for it myself. Sometimes I hate her so much.

  Violet is still pretty much ignoring me and Jordyn is being awful. I’m not sure how she figured out my locker combo, but I’ll come walking down the hallway and find all the stuff in my locker thrown on the ground and people don’t just walk around the pile. They walk on top of everything. My coat has footprints on it and someone crushed my calculator. Like I said, I’m not sure how Jordyn got my combination but I’m sure she’s the one who’s dumping my stuff on the ground.

  I kind of wonder if Gabe might have been the one to tell Jordyn my locker combo. I only told him it that one time he helped me open my locker but he’s seen me open it a ton of times since. He’s been acting weird to me, too. He doesn’t talk to me at lunch anymore and only says hi to me if I say it first.

  I almost don’t care anymore. If Cora and Gabe think I’m such an awful person (I know, I am), then I don’t want to be friends with them. At least I have Joseph. I wake up at 1:15 in the morning on the dot and sneak down to the computer hoping to find a message from him.

  I’ve even started wearing makeup. But only at school. My mom didn’t let Kendall wear makeup until she was fourteen and even then it was only mascara and lip gloss. I stole a tube of mascara and some eyeliner out of Kendall’s bathroom and put it on once I get to school. I don’t know why. I guess it makes me feel older.

  The other day, after I put my makeup on and was coming out of the girl’s bathroom at school, Mr. Dover was there. He looked at me kind of funny and
later he said, “Wow, Cora, you’re looking all grown up.” I have to admit that made me feel kind of good and bad at the same time. He’s my teacher. He’s not supposed to say things like that, right?

  I asked Joseph if he liked it that I started wearing makeup and he told me that he thought I was beautiful, with or without the makeup, and that made me smile for the first time in a long time. Then he asked me what color bra I was wearing. I didn’t know what to say. But then he wrote, Just kidding. I don’t know. It’s hard to tell when he’s joking and when he’s being serious. I know I’m doing something wrong by talking to him, but I don’t want to stop.

  Text Message Exchange

  Between Jordyn Petit and Violet Crow

  December 21, 2017

  Jordyn:

  Can you believe all that gunk Cora’s been wearing on her face? Her eyelashes look like tarantulas!

  Violet:

  Yeah, it’s a little much

  Jordyn:

  More than a little. She looks ridiculous. I bet she’s doing it because of Gabe

  Violet:

  Probably

  Jordyn:

  Gabe thinks she’s gross

  Violet:

  They used to talk a lot

  Jordyn:

  Gabe talks to everyone. Someone should really talk to Violet about her eyelashes. I can’t wait until we’re done with this stupid project and we don’t have to pretend to like her anymore

  Jordyn:

  Srsly? You don’t still like her, do you?

  Violet:

  She’s all right

  Jordyn:

  Come on! She stole your phone! And you have to admit she’s so annoying. Can you spend the night on Friday? Gemma and Kaley are coming over, too. Gabe and Russ might come over and watch a movie with us. Just don’t say anything to Cora. She’ll probably start crying if she finds out she’s not invited

  Text Message Exchange

  Between Jordyn Petit and Violet Crow

 

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