Missing Child (25 page)

‘I’m OK,’ she said.

‘I’ll talk to you soon,’ said Sam.

Caitlin nodded. She could feel the breath entering her lungs in a steady stream. She ended the call and drove the rest of the way to Noah’s house. She let herself in and turned on the lights. She roamed through the house, finally went into Geordie’s room, and sat down on the rug beside his bed.

Her mind was still racing, but her heart had settled back into a normal rhythm. She tried to think about all that had happened today but her thoughts kept returning to the same question. Why would Noah have beaten Dan up that way? Why would he have done that before he knew where Geordie could be found? Why would he ever do that?

Stop. Back up, she thought suddenly. Was this really a question? she thought. Make up your mind. Either you believe Noah or you don’t. Which is it? She forced herself to stop riding her racing thoughts, and try to think clearly. If Noah believed that Dan had Geordie, would he try to kill him?

The only thing that mattered, to either one of them, was to find their boy. Not punishment. Not retribution. Just Geordie. Just Geordie, safely home.

She felt a sudden sense of peace envelop her like a silky veil as she realized that this was undoubtedly the truth. Somebody tried to kill Dan. But it couldn’t have been Noah. Geordie was missing and Dan might know his whereabouts. So Noah could not be guilty. He would never have tried to kill their link to Geordie. Never.

The relief of that realization was so profound that it seemed to take every last remnant of energy out of her. The exhaustion of the day finally overwhelmed her, and forced her to sleep.

TWENTY-SIX

I
t was the fact that the phone had not rung which entered her dreams and woke her. The moment she opened her eyes, she broke out in a cold sweat. She fumbled for her phone but there was no message. No word from Sam. That meant only one thing: the Philly police had not found Geordie. She called Sam immediately. He answered on the first ring. Caitlin could hear the roar of engines in the background. ‘Sam. Have you heard anything from the Philly police?’

‘I’ve been in frequent contact with the lieutenant in charge. They broke in and searched the place top to bottom. Geordie is not there, and it doesn’t appear that he has ever been there.’

‘Oh my God,’ said Caitlin desperately. ‘Where is he?’

‘They confiscated Dan’s computer. His hard drive is being examined by their digital forensics team. They’re questioning all Dan’s colleagues and his friends. By the way, I spoke to the hospital. They’re moving Dan out of the ICU. He’s still unresponsive but he’s stable now. They’re putting him in a private room.’

‘Sam, I know that it wasn’t Noah that tried to kill him. It was someone else.’

‘Well, of course, you want to give Noah the benefit of the doubt . . .’

‘No, listen to me. I thought it through. If it was one of your kids, and only one person knew where they were being held, would you kill that person? Would you take the chance of silencing them forever? Would vengeance be more important than finding your child?’ she demanded.

Sam was silent for a minute.

‘I’m right. Admit it,’ said Caitlin.

‘Yes. You have a point. And I already have an officer assigned to guard his room in the hospital. Just in case.’

Caitlin could barely hear his voice through the roaring in the background. ‘Sam, can you still hear me? What’s that racket?’

‘I’m at the Biker’s War Memorial convention in Washington. I’m trying to find the elusive Jim. I was actually on my way here when I spoke to you last night,’ he said.

‘Wow. That’s kind of beyond the call of duty, isn’t it?’ she asked.

‘Probably,’ Sam admitted. ‘But, nonetheless . . .’

‘Thank you, Sam. I mean it.’

‘You just have to try and be patient, Caitlin. We’ve blanketed the media with a plea for whoever it was who helped Noah with his car to come forward. And I am trudging around among this bunch of graying Hells Angels in their orthopedic shoes to see if I can find that fellow. If I can locate him, we can confirm Noah’s story. Until then we have to hold him.’

‘It wasn’t Noah,’ she insisted.

‘Later, Caitlin,’ he said, and ended the call.

Caitlin splashed water on her face, ate some yogurt standing by the open door of the refrigerator, and brushed her teeth. She didn’t bother to change her clothes. She walked out the back door of the house and went around to where she had found Dan, left for dead, in the bushes the night before, and stared down at the broken branches, the flattened brown grass. Why had someone tried to kill him? Would they try again? Caitlin took out her phone and pressed a number. She stood in the yard, looking at the looming storm clouds, and waited.

Haley answered the phone on the second ring.

‘Haley, it’s Caitlin. Don’t hang up.’

‘What do you want, Caitlin?’ Haley asked.

‘Where are you?’ Caitlin asked. ‘Are you at the hospital?’

‘What business is that of yours?’ Haley demanded.

‘I have a reason for asking,’ said Caitlin.

‘Yes, I’m at the hospital.’

‘How is Dan doing? Is he conscious?’

‘In and out,’ said Haley.

‘I heard they moved him to a private room.’

‘Yes. He’s somewhat improved.’

‘Haley, listen to me. Dan’s life is still in danger,’ said Caitlin.

‘Oh, is Noah out of jail?’ Haley asked.

‘This is serious, Haley.’

‘There’s a police officer posted outside his room, if it makes you feel any better,’ said Haley sarcastically.

‘I know that. But I’m worried that it’s not enough. That it’s not going to protect him,’ said Caitlin. ‘You need to get inside his room and stay there. Sit by his bedside. Don’t let anyone visit him unless you are there.’

Haley was quiet for a moment. ‘Why are you saying this?’ she asked.

‘My reasons are selfish. I believe that Dan is the only one who can lead us to Geordie. Please,’ said Caitlin, ‘will you just do as I ask? Stay with him. Refuse to move, no matter what anybody says.’

‘I was going to do it anyway,’ said Haley.

‘Thank you,’ said Caitlin. ‘I have to go.’

Now that she felt certain that Noah had not been the one to try to kill Dan, she needed to think about what had happened yesterday in a different way. Noah had gone to meet Dan at the cemetery. Could Dan possibly have brought Geordie with him? Kept him out of sight somehow? All of sudden, Caitlin was struck with a thought that was both horrible and electrifying. Was Geordie still here, right here in Hartwell? Was he now the prisoner of the person who had tried to kill Dan?

She felt her chest begin to tighten again. Think palm trees, she thought. This was no time for fainting. She had to be strong.

Retrace everything, she thought. Start with the cemetery.

As she drove through the quiet, empty lanes which divided the graves, she thought about Dan’s car. Where was it now? If Dan had brought Geordie here with him, could Dan have left Geordie in the car when he got out to meet Noah? She knew Geordie well enough to know that he would not just have sat still. He would have acted up. Unless he was restrained or sedated somehow. The thought of Geordie, drugged, was repulsive to her, and she had to banish it from her mind.

She knew where Emily’s grave was. They had taken Geordie there on several occasions. Caitlin parked and got out of her car. Now that she was here, she wondered what it was that she thought she might find here. The police had already scoured this area. Was she seeking some sign of Geordie having been here? Maybe it was that. She walked down the rows of graves until she came to the simple stone between two small conifers with Emily’s name on it. Beloved wife and mother, it said. Beneath that were dates of her birth and death.

On the occasions when she had come here with Noah and Geordie, she had always felt overwhelmed by guilt, knowing that her own brother was responsible for Emily’s death. Furtively, she would watch Noah and Geordie, torturing herself by imagining what they would think of her if they knew her secret. Whenever they came here, Noah was always silent, distant, as he threw out the lifeless flowers, rinsed out the liner, and put fresh blooms in the permanent vase. Geordie often left a little plastic car or animal figure on the grave. Caitlin knew how much Geordie hated to part with any of his toys. But he always left some token for his mother which he would pat tenderly before he got up and scampered away among the headstones. The last time they were here, he left a Kung Fu panda which he had received as a party favor. The panda was still peeking out from the bed of begonias planted in front of Emily’s headstone.

The flowers in the vase were fresh. They must be the ones that Dan had brought. She remembered Noah saying that it angered him to see Dan putting flowers on Emily’s grave. Fleetingly, Caitlin wished she had brought a flower to leave on the grave. She had never really spent a moment alone at this monument. She closed her eyes, bowed her head, and thought about the woman buried there. In her mind, Emily existed only in photographs. Bright-eyed, smiling, silent.

Something terrible has happened to your little boy, she thought. To our little boy. If you have the power to intercede, to point us in the right direction, do it. Please. She reached out and touched the top of the stone. Amen, she thought. Then she turned away. She didn’t believe in spirits that remained among the living after death, but if they did . . . She walked back to her car and sat down in the driver’s seat, looking back at the grave. She tried to think about Dan. He was Emily’s brother. Uncle to Emily’s son. He had come to her grave and brought fresh flowers to adorn it. Why would he do that if he had kidnapped Emily’s child? Maybe if he’d come here to spit on her grave, that would be in keeping with his actions. But, to bring flowers? It did not make sense. All of Dan’s actions seemed . . . contradictory.

Caitlin’s thoughts traveled back to last night at the fast-food restaurant. It was her questions about Dan which had upset Travis and caused him to take Champ and try to hide from her.

Travis knew something, she thought. She was increasingly convinced of that. But he would not talk to her now. And Naomi would not let her anywhere near her son. Not after last night. He was probably in school anyway, she thought. And then she reminded herself that no – it was Saturday. Travis had Boy Scouts on Saturday. That was why they had decided to have Geordie’s party on a Sunday – so that Travis could come. Hard to fathom, she thought, that Geordie’s birthday was only a week ago.

She looked at the dashboard clock. Travis would probably be at Scouts right now. She knew where the Scouts met. Like everyone else in the family, Caitlin had been called upon to give him a ride to and fro from time to time. They had a lodge near the reservoir where they met for campfires and hikes in the woods. She had met one of the Scoutmasters, a guy named Bernie, one time when Geordie was with her. Geordie was awed by his glimpse of the group and couldn’t wait until he was old enough to join. Travis, on the other hand, always seemed reluctant to attend. The Scouts were entirely too energetic for Travis, who preferred his video games. Naomi insisted that he go because one of the Scout leaders had been in Iraq with Rod and took a special interest in Travis.

Maybe if she ambushed Travis at Scouts, and was able to assure him that he had nothing to fear by talking, he would reveal whatever it was that he knew. She was taking a chance that Travis would scream bloody murder at the sight of her and tell her nothing. But she had to try.

She looked back at the gravestone between the fir trees. ‘Be with Geordie,’ she said aloud into the somber silence. ‘Keep our boy safe until we can find him.’ Then Caitlin turned on the ignition and headed out of the cemetery.

Caitlin passed the road to the reservoir where the Scout camp was located twice before she recognized it, and turned in. The dirt road was narrow and rutted and she was forced to drive slowly, and take the bumps carefully. A late model Mercedes coming from the direction of the lodge hit the ruts in the road with determined abandon. Caitlin was barely able to get out of the way before the Mercedes lurched by, the woman at the wheel talking animatedly on her cell phone. Caitlin continued on down the road, pulling over to the side to allow a giant yellow Hummer to get by. She couldn’t even see the driver of that car, they were so high off the ground.

Finally, she spotted the lodge in the distance, a rudimentary, oversized log cabin at the edge of the reservoir. There were boys shrieking and chasing each other around the picnic tables.

A Subaru Forester was idling up ahead at the end of the road, and Caitlin glimpsed the couple in the front seat exchange a quick kiss. Then the car door opened on the passenger side and a stocky, dark-haired man, wearing a buffalo plaid shirt and heavy work boots and an Eagles cap emerged. Caitlin frowned at the sight of him. He looked so familiar. He leaned down and spoke to the driver through the passenger-side window. Then he straightened up, tapped on the hood and started to walk in the direction of the lodge. Several of the Boy Scouts caught sight of him and swarmed in his direction, seemingly thrilled to see him arrive. The man high-fived the rambunctious boys who trailed beside him like a school of pilot fish as he made his way to the lodge. The Scoutmaster, whom Caitlin recognized as Bernie, hailed the newcomer, who was obviously another of the Scout leaders.

The Forester made a K-turn and started back up the road. As the car approached, Caitlin noticed the fire department license plate, and suddenly she remembered why that car looked so familiar. She had ridden in that same car during the search in the marshes for Geordie. What was that guy’s name? Jerry. A nice guy, she thought. A fireman, a Scoutmaster, a guy who would search for a missing child in his free time. This had to be the guy Naomi had mentioned. The one who was in Iraq with Rod Pelletier.

The Forester was almost even with her car now, and Caitlin stopped to let it pass. As the car passed by her, she gazed in at the driver.

For a moment, she thought her eyes were deceiving her. The driver, intent on negotiating the rutted road, paid no attention to Caitlin’s car. Caitlin was free to stare, and stare she did. No wonder Jerry had gotten out of the car so far from the lodge, she thought. He wouldn’t have wanted to be caught kissing the driver of the Forester, because the driver of the Forester was another man. And not just any man. Caitlin recognized him right away. It was Geordie’s teacher, Alan Needleman.