Before She Was Found

by Heather Gudenkauf

  “I don’t know,” I say, pulling him in for a hug, and for the first time in a very long time my son doesn’t pull away from me.

  Text Message Exchange

  Between Nikki Dobric Max Crow Clint Phelps and Ryan Moren

  Thursday, April 19, 2018

  Nikki:

  Someone got hit by a train at the old depot

  Max:

  Does anyone know who it was?

  Clint:

  I heard it was the old guy who owns Petit’s

  Max:

  Jordyn’s grandpa? What happened?

  Ryan:

  I heard he jumped in front of the train because of what Jordyn did

  Clint:

  I heard Mr. Dover pushed him in front of the train

  Ryan:

  That’s BS. Why would Dover do that?

  Clint:

  Jordyn told the police Dover’s a perv and hurt that kid at the train station

  Nikki:

  That’s awful! Did he die?

  Ryan:

  I heard he died

  Clint:

  I heard he didn’t

  Case #92-10945

  Direct message dated April 15, 2018,

  via DarkestDoor.com

  Corareef12:

  I’m ready to go. I decided only to bring my journal and I have about two hundred dollars just in case we need it. I can’t believe we’re really doing this. I gave my mom a really long hug, but don’t worry, I didn’t make her suspicious. I just said goodbye to her in my head. I stood in Kendall’s bedroom trying to think of a way of telling her goodbye, but I couldn’t think of what to say. She finally told me to go away, that I was creeping her out. I didn’t bother saying goodbye to my dad. He probably won’t even notice I’m gone. At first I was scared about leaving but I’m not anymore. I thought about what you said, how Jordyn and Violet aren’t really my friends. I know you’re right. I can tell they are talking about me. I can hear their whispers. I think the only person who cares about me, besides my mom, is Mr. Dover. And you, of course. I’ll look for you at the train yard and then we can go away forever. They’ll be so sorry they were mean to me. You’ll be there, won’t you? You promise?

  JW44:

  I’LL BE THERE.

  Dr. Madeline Gideon

  September 14 2018

  When I got to the nurses’ station I had a note from Mara saying that she and Jim had gone to the hospital’s rooftop garden. I took the nearest elevator to the top floor and I found them staring out at the city below. The rooftop is a beautiful spot like nothing I’d ever seen in a hospital before with its glassed-in walkways lined with flowers and plants. It looked more like an arboretum than a spot for patients and their families to sit and regroup.

  Seeing the look on Mara’s face, I asked, “Are the girls okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said, shifting in her chair. “There was an accident this morning. Thomas Petit, the grandfather of one of the girls, fell on the tracks while a train was coming.” She lowered her head into her hands.

  “He’s going to be fine,” Jim said. “John Dover, a teacher from the school, was able to pull him from the tracks in time.”

  “What were they doing in the train yard?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

  “There was some kind of argument.” Mara rubbed her eyes. “And Mr. Petit fell. There are rumors about Mr. Dover...”

  “Don’t think about it anymore,” Jim said. “It won’t do any good. We have our own daughters to think about.” Jim looked to me. “The police said that engines have face-fronting cameras mounted to them. They’ll be able to figure out what happened.” I nodded but didn’t say anything. I was processing this new information.

  “I need to get back to Cora,” Mara said and stood abruptly.

  “May I peek in on her?” I asked. “See how she’s feeling?” Mara nodded weakly and we took the elevator together back down. When we got to Cora’s room, Cora already had a visitor.

  Kendall, dressed in her street clothes, sat on the edge of Cora’s bed. “Kendall, honey?” Mara asked. “What are you doing here?” She looked at me in confusion.

  “It’s okay, Mom,” Kendall said. “One of the nurses walked me down. She’s waiting outside. I’m fine.”

  Kendall looked far from fine. Dark circles beneath her eyes told me she hadn’t gotten much rest. Her hair hung lankly on her shoulders and was streaked black with what I suspected was the charcoal used to pump her stomach.

  Cora didn’t look much better. Her left eye was heavily bandaged and the wounds on her scalp and face had crusted over but she was awake and sitting up in her bed.

  Alarm bells went off in my head. Kendall was getting ready to tell her parents what she had done to Cora. “Kendall,” I began, “I don’t think this is the time.” I had hoped that when Kendall was ready to tell her parents about her role in posing as Joseph Wither it wouldn’t be in front of Cora. I didn’t think Cora was ready to hear this.

  “But I need to,” Kendall said in a tremulous voice. “If I don’t do it now, I don’t think I ever will.”

  “Kendall.” I shook my head. “Let’s wait until we can talk to your mom and dad privately.”

  “What is it?” Mara interrupted.

  “Mara,” I tried again, “I think this is a conversation best left for—”

  “No, let her talk,” Mara said. “You know you can tell me anything, Kendall. Anything at all.”

  I demurred. Perhaps my biggest mistake, and reluctantly moved to the corner of the room where I’d be out of the way.

  “It’s my fault,” Kendall said. “What happened to Cora.” Tears filled her eyes and she took a shuddery breath.

  “There’s nothing you could have done to stop what happened, Kendall. It isn’t your fault.” Mara pulled a chair up next to Kendall and reached for her hand.

  Kendall shook her head. “No, it’s my fault. And Emery’s. We were the ones who sent the messages.”

  “I don’t understand,” Mara said. “What messages?”

  “Online. On a website. We pretended to be Joseph Wither. But then I stopped and Emery kept doing it. I swear I didn’t know. She told Cora that Wither would be at the depot.” The tears fell and Kendall looked pleadingly at her sister. “It was just a joke. I don’t know who went to the depot but it wasn’t me. It wasn’t Emery.”

  “A joke?” Mara furrowed her brow, puzzled, and looked to her husband for help. “What does she mean, a joke?”

  Jim looked like he might explode. “She means that she and Emery lured the girls out in the middle of night. It means that she tricked her sister into walking into a trap.”

  “No.” Kendall’s eyes widened in fear. “No, it wasn’t me. I stopped after a few days and I told Emery to stop, too.”

  Mara stared at her daughter as if seeing her for the first time. “Kendall?”

  “Did you plan it together?” Jim asked. “Were you there?”

  “No, Daddy,” Kendall cried. “You know I was at home. You know I would never do that. Emery would never do that.”

  “I don’t know, Kendall.” Jim’s voice broke. “I don’t know you at all.”

  I got ready to jump in before it went too far. Before someone said something they would forever regret, when I looked at Cora. She was just sitting there as if in a trance, hands lying limply at her side, no expression on her face. “The messages weren’t from him?” she asked. “He isn’t real?”

  “I’m so sorry, Cora,” Kendall choked out. “I’m so sorry. It was just a joke, a stupid joke. If I would have known that Violet and Jordyn were going to hurt you—”

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” Cora said and abruptly pushed herself up from the bed. She looked blank, as if she hadn’t heard what her sister just told her.

  “Let me help you,” Mara said, standing and g
oing to her daughter’s side.

  “I can do it,” Cora murmured and slowly wheeled her IV pole toward the bathroom.

  “Let me call the nurse.” Mara reached for the nurse’s call button.

  “No, I’m fine,” Cora said, her voice devoid of emotion. Once inside the bathroom, she gently shut the door and locked it with a gentle click.

  “Dammit, Kendall,” Jim spat. “What the hell have you done?”

  “I’m sorry,” Kendall moaned, rocking back and forth. “I’m so sorry.”

  Jim grabbed Kendall by the forearm and began to pull her toward the door. “Get out,” he said between clenched teeth. “I can’t bear to look at you.”

  “Stop it!” Mara cried and wedged herself between them. “Get your hands off her!

  I remember raising my voice, telling the Landrys to calm down. I remember suggesting that everyone take a break for a few minutes, then we could come back together to discuss what Kendall had just shared.

  Jim Landry laughed bitterly. “I’m done talking,” he muttered and shouldered his way past Mara and out of the room.

  “I’m so sorry,” Kendall wept as Mara gathered her into her arms.

  It was then when I noticed that Cora hadn’t returned from the bathroom. I moved to the door and gently knocked. “Cora,” I called through the door. “Cora, are you doing okay in there?”

  No response.

  I knocked more forcefully.

  Still no answer. That was when I saw the clear liquid seeping out from beneath the locked door.

  “What is it?” Mara asked from behind me.

  “Go get a nurse,” I said calmly. Through the door I tried to summon a response from Cora. “Open the door, Cora.”

  Within seconds a nurse came into the room. “Open the door,” I ordered. The nurse deftly unlocked the door and pushed it open. Sitting in a corner with her head on her knees sat Cora, the coil of plastic tubing laid next to her, its contents surrounding her in a now bloody puddle. At first I thought the blood was from the IV access site in Cora’s hand but as Cora lifted her head from her knees I quickly found that not to be the case.

  “Oh, my God,” Mara gasped.

  “This is your fault!” Jim Landry hissed at me. “You were supposed to help her!”

  Stitch by stich, Cora was pulling the sutures from her face, her fingers sticky with blood. She must have already plucked the stitches from her abdomen because blood bloomed brightly across her hospital gown.

  I fell to my knees and grabbed her bloody fingers in mine. “Cora, why?” I asked. “Why did you do this to yourself?”

  “It wasn’t Kendall,” she whispered. “It wasn’t Violet and Jordyn. They didn’t do it.”

  Five months later

  Thomas Petit

  September 14, 2018

  Later, I got to see the video footage from the camera in front of the train’s engine. I came as close to dying as I ever have. The video wasn’t the best quality and there was no audio but it was clear that John Dover and I were having words. I tripped and fell backward and John Dover tried to help me up. It’s a miracle that I didn’t die and it’s equally amazing that John Dover didn’t die trying to save me. I did end up with a torn rotator cuff in my shoulder. Could have been a hell of a lot worse.

  I wish I would have never gone down to the train station. There are a lot of things I wish I would have done differently. I still just don’t understand why Jordyn lied and kept on lying even though she didn’t do anything more than sneak out and try to pull a prank on a friend. She wasn’t the one who sent Cora those fake messages and she wasn’t the one who stabbed and beat her. But still she felt the need to accuse an innocent man, her teacher no less. I tried to get Jordyn to tell me why but she wouldn’t or couldn’t explain it beyond saying that she was scared and afraid they’d never let her come home again.

  Tess tells me that we’ll probably never fully understand our granddaughter. She’s had a hard life. Her parents dumped her off on our doorstep. We’ve tried to be good parents to her, but it’s not the same as having your real mom and dad there to sit down with you at dinner and to tuck you in every night.

  Mr. Dover resigned from his teaching position and last I heard had moved out of state. Wherever he is I hope he’s been able to make a fresh start.

  After I fell on the train tracks and busted up my shoulder, I told Officer Grady about the book bag hidden in the chimney. He fished it out and it ended up there was zero physical evidence that linked Jordyn to any crime. By the grace of God, I wasn’t arrested for tampering with evidence. I guess no one saw the point of throwing an old man in jail for trying to protect his granddaughter.

  Once a week we drive to Grayling and I drop Jordyn off at her counselor’s office and then take Tess to her physical therapy appointment. The deal was Jordyn had to go to counseling or be charged for making false statements to the police. The counseling seems to be helping. She’s a lot quieter now, though, stays pretty much to herself. Tess says that in a few months everyone will move on to the next scandal and Jordyn will be surrounded by friends again. But I don’t know. Small towns have long memories.

  Beth Crow

  September 14, 2018

  We packed up the car with our clothes, a few belongings and Boomer and left in the dark of night when the neighbors were asleep. Pretty much like how we arrived—fitting, I guess. I’m afraid, though, that no matter how far we run, Violet and Max won’t be able to recover from our ten months in Pitch. I spent a long time talking with Dr. Gideon about the move. She warned us that running away from what happened wouldn’t be good for Violet, for any of us, but she did think that it might be best for Violet, for all of us, to get a brand-new start. I was sure that if we stayed in Pitch Violet would forever be known as one of the Wither girls and Max would feel like he would always have to defend his sister.

  Dr. Gideon also warned me about just up and leaving without having a real plan in place. She suggested that I research where we were going to move, look for a job, find housing and arrange for ongoing mental health support for Violet. She has a lot to deal with. Violet’s best friend nearly died, and even though Violet was innocent, people still look at her like she’s a criminal.

  We needed to go a place where no one ever heard of Joseph Wither and that terrible night in a train yard. Max wanted to go back to New Mexico and Violet wanted to move to Hawaii. I said no to both.

  I finally decided on Rochester, Minnesota, because when I searched best midsize US cities to live in, it came up as number one. I haven’t had the best track record in choosing where to raise my kids and I didn’t want to decide where we were going based on a man.

  I thought for sure the Petits would move away from Pitch. But it doesn’t look like they will. My neighbor said that Thomas Petit had no intention of moving away from the place he called home for over forty years and that he couldn’t bear the thought of selling the bar to someone who didn’t know the heart and soul they’d poured into it, to someone who didn’t know its history.

  I just want to give my kids what’s left of their childhoods. I want them to have fun, have some good memories, before they go off into the world on their own. Rochester has great schools, and a decent cost of living and the Mayo Clinic, one of the best hospitals in the world. Dr. Gideon even put in a good word for me when I said I was interested in getting a job there. I didn’t care what kind of job it was—as aide, housekeeping, food service, hell, I’d have agreed to be a candy striper if it meant I had a steady income.

  In the end, I was hired as an assistant in the dietetics department. I work with the registered dietitians and help process diet orders and menus to patients. Maybe not my dream job but it provides health insurance, which we’re in desperate need.

  Violet still has nightmares about that night and sometimes wakes up screaming for me to get the blood off her. At night, in the dark, when I sta
rt thinking on these things I can almost feel his presence in the room and I have to remind myself he isn’t real, that Joseph Wither doesn’t exist.

  In the end, no one was arrested for anything, although Jordyn was ordered to go to counseling for lying about her teacher being in the train yard. If you ask me, she got off easy. No one should be able to ruin someone’s life like that.

  And part of me wishes that Kendall Landry and her friend Emery would have been charged with something for their catfish game. They lied and pretended to be someone else. They convinced a vulnerable little girl that the person on the other end of the computer loved and cared about her. Even though they may not have meant for anyone to get hurt, three little girls and their families will never be the same.

  When Violet doesn’t think I’m looking, I watch her. I watch as she draws in her sketchbook, while she reads, while she watches TV on the couch with Boomer. I watch her when she is daydreaming, staring up at the ceiling or into corners, and wonder if she’s thinking of that night. Then I make myself stop. I don’t want what happened in Pitch to define who she becomes. Dr. Gideon told me to be watchful but not to make myself sick with worry. I talked to Violet’s counselor in her new school. She’s going to meet with her once a week to help her make a smooth adjustment to seventh grade.

  It’s no surprise that Max is doing just fine in our new town, making plenty of friends and girlfriends, though I still catch him texting Nikki now and then. He watches Violet just as closely as I do. He worries and it makes me sad and proud all at the same time.

  Violet is taking a while to settle in to our new life but she seems okay. She doesn’t seem to have any close friends yet but she did join an after-school art club and they meet twice a week. I asked her if she ever misses Jordyn and Cora and she just shook her head and said not really. I check her phone and scan the bills to see if she calls or texts one of them, but she hasn’t. I sneak into her room when she’s at school and flip through her sketchbook, looking for drawings of Joseph Wither or tall grass or railroad tracks, but only find pictures of Boomer and attempts at anime. I’m relieved and hopeful and grateful. It’s time for us to make new memories, good memories.