Still Missing (24 page)

"Don't get me wrong, I don't have any regrets or anything, and I sure as hell hope you don't, but I don't want to have some big talk about it, okay? Let's just move on.... What's the next step in the investigation?"

I felt his eyes burning into my face but I kept my gaze focused on the ceiling. In a low voice he said, "After I question the hotel people tomorrow with the sketch and the mug shot that was faxed to me, I'll be heading to the next town. Kinsol." I had forgotten how close I was to Kinsol. It's not a big town--probably only has one or two motels--and most of the population work at the prison.

I laughed and said, "You could've said hi to my uncle, but he was just released."

Gary propped himself on an elbow and looked down at me. "What uncle?"

I assumed he'd have known, but Mom and my uncle have a different last name, so maybe not.

"My mom's stepbrother, Dwight? He robbed a couple of banks. He was just in the paper--you guys want him for questioning in another robbery. But we don't have anything to do with him, so can't help you there."

Gary rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. I wanted to ask what he was thinking, but I'd learned that leaning on him didn't get me answers.

"Is there anything I can do to help my investigation?" I said.

"Just try to stay clear of everyone for now. I have to do some more digging but should have more information tomorrow, and I'll let you know how we're going to proceed from there. If you find out or remember anything that might help, call me right away. And you can call if you just need to talk too."

His voice was starting to drift and I knew he'd fall asleep soon, so I said, "I should get going. Emma's at home."

"I'd like it if you stayed."

"Thanks, but I can't leave her all night." Truth is, I didn't trust myself to lie quietly beside him with the bedding all tangled around us--would have been hard to explain why I was in the closet in the morning.

"I don't like the idea of you driving alone on the roads this late."

"I made it here, didn't I?"

In the dim room he raised an eyebrow at me, so I tucked my face into the warm groove between his shoulder and neck and said, "I'll have a shower, okay?"

After a quick shower, which I spent trying not to think about what I'd just done, I tiptoed by his sleeping form on the bed and slipped out. The streets were empty on my drive home and I was in my own little world. Had Emma been with me, I'd have just kept on going.

My mind floated back to my conversation with Gary, and I wished I hadn't told him what Mom heard about Christina and Luke. Cops look for ulterior motives in everything. Not that I wasn't just as guilty of that myself. But I knew those two wouldn't hurt me. Still, I felt like there was something I should be seeing but wasn't. My mind turned over everything I knew, but I just couldn't put my finger on the missing piece of the puzzle.

It was a long night. I slept in the closet but tossed and turned, as much as you can turn in a closet, and woke up early this morning. Groggy, I sat out on my back deck with the cordless near me, waiting for Gary to call and tell me what he'd found out.

I'd forgotten Luke was coming by to drop off receipts and some books he was lending me, so I was surprised when I heard a truck pull up. When I looked out and realized it was him, my legs turned to rubber. Pulling myself together, I opened the door. He tried to hug me but I barely hugged back.

"Everything okay?" he said.

"Sorry, I'm just tired--didn't sleep very well last night." I aimed for light and casual, but my voice sounded strained. I avoided his eyes.

"Find out anything more about that picture you identified?"

I mumbled something about Gary looking into it. Then I dropped one of the books he'd brought over, and when I bent down to pick it up, we almost knocked heads. When I jumped back, he gave me a searching look, so I quickly offered him a cup of tea. Praying he'd drink his fast, I gulped mine back.

I've never felt like such a fraud as I did in that moment, talking about our dogs and his work while I waited for the phone to ring and wondered what I would do if Gary called while Luke was still there.

Our conversation was riddled with pauses and he barely touched his tea before he said he had to go. When he gave me a hug at the door I forced myself to hug him back and wondered if he could feel guilt through my skin.

"Annie, you sure you're all right?" I wanted to confess everything. I couldn't confess anything.

"I'm just really bagged."

"Well, get some rest, okay? Doctor's orders." He smiled.

I forced a smile back. "Yes, sir."

After he left I knew I could never tell him what had happened between Gary and me. I also knew I could never get back together with him now. Luke belonged to the woman who was abducted, not the one who came home.

An hour later the suspense was killing me, so I called Gary, but he didn't answer and his cell phone was off. It wasn't until later that afternoon that he finally called back. I wish he hadn't.

The Freak's real name was Simon Rousseau, and he'd have been forty-two at the time of his death. He grew up in a small town in Ontario, moved to Vancouver in his early twenties, but eventually settled on the island. The mug shot was taken when he was arrested at thirty-nine for beating a man so badly he was hospitalized for weeks. The Freak, who claimed the wife hired him to do it because her husband was cheating on her, cut a deal. A year later his conviction was overturned based on the RCMP having mishandled some evidence. Upon his release from Kinsol prison he moved back to the mainland and dropped off the police radar until I identified his mug shot.

Now that they had a name, they traced back trying to match his whereabouts with any unsolved crimes. They discovered his mother did die of cancer and his father indeed disappeared, and to this day the father's car and body have never shown up.

When they couldn't find any cold cases that fit, they reviewed some that were "solved" and came upon the case of a young woman named Lauren who was raped and beaten and left dead in the alley behind her house. A homeless man was caught with her bloody sweater and purse and tried for her murder. He died in prison a year later.

Simon Rousseau, who lived a few blocks down from Lauren, remained close to the family for years, even visiting Lauren's mom every Christmas up until her death five years ago. I was glad the mom would never have to know she welcomed her daughter's killer into her house every Christmas.

During his twenties Rousseau lived in Vancouver but worked in logging camps up north as a cook. And yes, a female helicopter pilot from one of the camps was found dead. But it was never investigated as a homicide. After her boyfriend got back to camp, he realized she was taking too long and went to find her. When he couldn't, a search party was sent out but it took them a month to find her body at the bottom of a gulley. She was fully dressed and her neck was broken. Because it had been dusk when she was heading back to the camp, they assumed she had lost her way and fallen over the cliff.

Rousseau's exact location and activities since he left prison were still unknown, and Gary said they might never know if he was responsible for any other crimes.

While Gary talked I'd been sitting on my couch fiddling with a loose thread on my throw. I'd just about unraveled the damn thing.

I said, "Are you back in Clayton Falls?"

"Still up in Eagle Glen."

"You said you were going to Kinsol today?"

"I was, but a staff member I need to talk to at this motel isn't coming in until tonight."

"Talk to about what? I thought you were just showing the picture around. Did someone recognize him?"

"I'm just making sure I follow up on every avenue, then I'll come back to Clayton Falls in the morning. Are we clear?"

"Yeah, clear as mud."

"Sorry, Annie, but I can't tell you anything more until all the facts are in. If we're wrong it could cause you a lot of unnecessary anguish--"

"What are you saying? Are you telling me you know who hired The Freak? You can at least tell me if it's someone I know, can't you?"

"Annie...a lot is at stake here."

"I'm perfectly aware a lot is at stake--it's my
life
, remember? Or did you forget about that part?" At the sound of my harsh tone Emma left the room.

"Look, all I can tell you at this point is that after you identified Rousseau we obtained his criminal record, and based on the record we had another look at his known associates--that's standard procedure in any investigation."

While he was waiting for that information, he met with a few of the maids from the day shift at the motel in Eagle Glen. One of them thought the drawing of The Freak looked familiar, but when he showed her the mug shot she didn't recognize him. But if it
was
the same guy in the sketch, she'd seen a woman wearing large sunglasses go into his room one morning and leave about fifteen minutes later. She didn't see the car, but she thought one of the other maids had been cleaning the rooms on the lower floor where the parking lot was. That's who Gary was waiting to speak with.

My head was spinning. What woman met with The Freak?

I said, "Sorry, I'm just trying to...It's a lot to take in all at once."

"I understand. But it's really important you don't--"

"Sorry, my mom's calling on the other line, I'll pick it up and get rid of her or she'll--"

"Don't answer it!"

"Okay, okay." But when the beeping finally stopped I said, "She's just going to call back."

"Have you talked to her about anything we discussed last night?" His voice was tight.

"Luke's the only one I spoke with today, but I never--"

"You can't discuss any of this with her, Annie." Something in his tone set off alarm bells.

"Gary, this is my
mom
. If you don't tell me what the fuck is going on right now, I'm going to call her and tell her every damn thing."

"Jesus." He was silent for a moment, then I heard him take a deep breath. "This is going to be hard for you to hear...."

"Just say it."

"When you came up last night you mentioned your uncle was in Kinsol prison, so I checked if he and Simon Rousseau were there at the same time. They were. It's also been confirmed that your uncle was known to have photos of his nieces on his cell walls. So after the maid's description we faxed a request for a warrant to check your mother's bank records for any unusual transactions."

"I don't...Why the hell would you do that?"

"I still need to talk to the other maid, but, Annie..." His voice turned gentle. "It looks like your mother might be involved."

Oh, shit.

And that's all I know. Right after Gary dropped his bomb-shell he had to take another call. He made me promise not to talk to anyone and said he'd phone me later. So that's why I called you, Doc, and why I've been gripping this cell phone like my life depends on it, I had to get out of there, had to talk to somebody. I couldn't stand pacing around my house wondering what bullshit theory the cops are coming up with now. Some dingbat maid sees a woman at a motel and they decide it's my
mom
? Talk about grasping at straws.

I wonder if Gary left a message at my house or if he remembers my cell number--can't recall if I left it on his voice mail. Or even worse, what if he tried to call me on my drive here but I didn't have cell coverage? There are some dead spots on the highway. I've got to get out of here--I need to try him again.

I know I look like shit today, but trust me, Doc, when you hear how my week went you'll understand, and you'll know why I asked for a longer session too.

On the drive home from our last appointment I passed a new billboard on the highway advertising the real estate project I was supposed to get. It was right near the turnoff to my aunt's house and I thought about how annoyed she used to get when Mom talked about that deal. Then I realized Aunt Val doesn't brag about how well Tamara's doing in real estate anymore.

As soon as I got home I checked out Tamara's Web site. She had a few nice listings but not nearly as many as she used to. Just for the heck of it I Googled her name and it came up on the Real Estate Council Web site--under disciplinary decisions. Turns out my perfect cousin was suspended last year for ninety days. She represented a numbered company buying a large piece of commercial land and never disclosed she was the owner of said company. Not smart.

Obviously Mom didn't know or I'd have heard by now,
everyone
would've heard. Aunt Val's lucky I went missing just before Tamara's suspension was announced in our monthly Report from Council. Then it came to me.

When Gary called a half hour later I jumped right in. "I know who could have met with The Freak."

Gary was quiet for a moment, then said, "Go ahead."

"I just found out my cousin lost her real estate license right after I was abducted, but she'd have known it was going to happen for a while and my aunt
never
mentioned it. My mom and her sister are supercompetitive, and I was supposed to be getting this big project--"

"Annie--"

"Just
listen.
You said it was a woman wearing big sunglasses, right?"

"Right, but--"

"My Aunt Val, she started wearing these big sunglasses right after my mom did." Mom wears them because she thinks they make her look like a Hollywood star, and man, was she pissed when Aunt Val showed up in a pair. "They look a lot alike, Aunt Val's a little taller but from a distance they could pass for the same person. And it's my aunt who used to go see my uncle--she could've brought him the pictures. When that guy grabbed me last week she was there in minutes and--"

"Our records show that your mother did visit your uncle, Annie."

"That's not possible--she won't even
talk
about him."

"Annie, we have video and her signature in the visitors' log."

"My aunt could've just dressed like her and forged her signature, Mom's writing looks like a kid's--"

Gary sighed. "We'll consider that possibility, okay? But I have to ask you some more questions. When you were at the cabin, was there ever anything that stuck out as not belonging? Anything at all, something like the photo?"

"The whole place was fucked up, what's that gotta do with this?"

"It might not have seemed relevant at the time, but he may have had an item that didn't seem to fit?"

"I've told you everything, Gary."

"Sometimes a shock can cause memories to resurface. Just go through the cabin in your mind."

"There's
nothing
."

"Something in the shed maybe or the cellar...?"

"How many times do we have to go over this? He had boxes, he had guns, he had my clothes, he had a wad of money with a--"

Pink, it was pink
. I sucked in a lungful of air.

"Oh, shit." And then we were both quiet.

"You remembered something?" Gary said finally.

"The Freak had this wad of money. And it had a pink band around it, then when I was at my mom's the other day, she had the same kind of hair bands in her drawer, the same color, pink, in the bathroom, I used one in my hair. But my aunt--"

"Did you keep it?"

"Yes, but I told you--"

"We're going to need it for comparison."

I
had
to tell him about the stupid pink band. I wanted to be sick.

From a long way off I heard Gary say, "Is there anything else you can think of?"

"My mom's stepbrother, maybe he's involved somehow. I could try to talk to Wayne, find out if he knows anything. Mom might have told him why she hates--"

"That's the last thing I want you to do. Remember, we're not yet positive your mother's involved, and I hope for your sake she's not, but if she is, you could really damage the investigation. In fact, don't say
anything
to
anybody
, okay?" When I didn't answer right away, he said in his cop voice, "I'm serious."

"What are you going to do now?"

"We should have the warrant by the morning, but it will take a few days for the bank to actually get the records to us. Meanwhile, we gather as much evidence as we can. If we bring your mother in for questioning too soon there's always a chance she could destroy evidence or run."

"There's nothing to question her
about
--she didn't do anything."

He softened his voice and said, "Look, I know how confusing this must be, but I promise I'll call when we have anything more conclusive. Until then try to stay away from everybody. And I'm
really
sorry, Annie."

I put the phone back in the cradle, but it rang as I walked away. Thinking it was Gary again, I picked it up without looking at the call display.

"Thank
God
, I was
so
worried about you, Annie Bear. I left you a message
hours
ago and after what just happened recently--" Mom paused for breath and I tried to say something but my throat clamped shut.

"Are you there? Annie?"

"Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner."

I wanted to warn her that Gary was coming for her, but what could I say? Gary thinks you're involved in my abduction but I think it was your sister? No, Gary was probably wrong about the whole damn thing and it would fuck Mom right up. I had to keep my mouth shut. I clenched the phone till it hurt and, with my back against the wall, slid to the floor. Emma came out of hiding and pushed her face into my chest.

"So do the police have any more information on that terrible man?" Mom said.

Oh, yeah, they have a lot more information. More than I ever wanted to know.

"No new leads--the investigation seems to have dried up. You know what the cops around here are like, they couldn't find their own assholes if their life depended on it." I slumped to my side on the floor. My breath blew dog hair into tumble-weeds.

"It's probably for the best. You need to just concentrate on getting better. Maybe you should take a little holiday."

I squeezed my eyelids tight against the hot tears building there and bit my tongue, hard.

"That's a great idea. You know, I think I might take off and go camping with Emma for a few days."

"See, your mother knows what's best, but don't forget to check in and let us know you're okay. We worry about you, Annie Bear."

After I hung up the phone I looked around my house, and all I could see was dirt. I rearranged my books alphabetically and washed my walls with bleach and water. The rest of the night I scrubbed the floors on my hands and knees. Not one inch of my house was spared. While my body worked on cleaning, my mind worked to explain it all away.

Just because someone hired The Freak in the past didn't mean my situation wasn't random--maybe it was just a friend of his that stopped by the motel. Being in prison at the same time as my uncle didn't necessarily mean anything. A lot of prisoners were in there and they might never have even met. And if they did, that's probably how The Freak got this weird obsession about me--he saw all the pictures of my family. Aunt Val might not have mentioned Tamara's suspension because she was waiting for the council's final decision, then I disappeared and that overshadowed everything. Good thing they were looking into Mom's records, because when they didn't find anything they could concentrate on finding The Freak's real partner--if he even had one. It was going to be okay.

It wasn't until seven the next morning, when I finally stopped, that I realized I'd scrubbed my knuckles raw and hadn't eaten in more than a day. I managed to get down some tea and dry toast.

When Gary called later that afternoon to tell me he was coming by to pick up the elastic hair band and the photo I took from the cabin, I filled him in on my conversation with Mom, including my so-called camping trip. I explained I'd have to call her at least once or she might start wondering, and he said it was okay but to keep the calls brief.

He also suggested I tell Christina and Luke the same story so no one inadvertently screwed things up, and he wanted me to go stay in a motel, but I refused--this shit was bad enough without having to actually leave my home. We agreed I'd hide my car in the backyard and keep a low profile. Luke and Christina had been phoning every day since the second abduction attempt, and Christina offered in an I'm-trying-so-hard-not-to-be-pushy way for me to crash at her place for a while and accepted my "No, thanks" with a big pause, a deep breath, then an "Okay, whatever works for you." But I knew it was killing her and they'd worry if I just didn't answer, so I e-mailed them both that I needed to get out of town for a couple of days and hadn't phoned because I didn't want to talk to anyone right now--"Sorry, I'm just going through a rough patch."

No kidding.

For the last few days I've been hiding out in my house and using candlelight at night. The closet hasn't been an issue, because I haven't been sleeping. I haven't even gone for a walk--most of the time I cuddle with Emma and cry into her fur.

Once I got in my car, revved it up a few times, called my mom from my cell phone, and made a bunch of static noise. I told her I was okay but I was driving and my phone was cutting out so I couldn't talk. Least that part wasn't a lie--I was barely able to say hello without choking from the effort of keeping everything inside.

When I checked my e-mail, Christina had written that she hoped the time away helped and that I felt better when I came back. "I'll miss you," she wrote. She signed the message with xxx's, ooo's, and a little smiley face icon.

The next day I spotted her car heading down my driveway and wrapped my hand around Emma's muzzle before she could bark. Christina walked around outside for a couple of minutes, then drove away. When I looked out I realized she'd picked up all the newspapers that were cluttering the doorstep. I felt like such a jerk.

Gary called to tell me things were progressing and he appreciated my cooperation. I wondered if he was excited about closing in on the "bad guy." He's a cop for a reason.

I didn't tell him I was still planning on coming to my shrink appointment today--he would have just told me not to--and I was glad I hadn't canceled when he called around eight this morning to tell me they finally located the other maid at the hotel. And yes, she did remember the woman wearing sunglasses--the car was so big and the woman was so small, she had to struggle to push the car door open.

"I know what you're thinking, Gary, but there must be...Shit, just give me a minute here."

"I'm really sorry, Annie, but all the evidence is pointing to your mom. We're just waiting for her bank records before we bring her in for questioning. Meanwhile, we--"

"But you don't know for sure it was her at the hotel. So it was a small woman, that doesn't mean--"

"It was a small
blond
woman, Annie. The maid never got a license plate, but the car was bronze-colored, just like your stepfather's, and she identified a photo of your mother."

My blood roared in my ears.

"But I
told
you, my aunt looks like her and she drives a Lincoln, it's the same color as the Caddie. Maybe she's working with her stepbrother and that's who tried to grab me. He could be blackmailing her--fuck, I don't know. But he's still out there and if you just talk to Wayne, he'll tell you Mom had nothing to do with this."

"When we're ready, we'll bring Wayne in."

"When you're
ready
? What the hell are you waiting for, me to go missing again?"

"Annie, I understand you're frustrated--"

"I'm not fucking
frustrated
, I'm furious. You guys are totally off track. If you're not going to do anything, then I'm going to talk to Wayne and--"

"Get yourself hurt? That would really help, wouldn't it?"

"Wayne's not going to do anything to me, he's an idiot but he doesn't have a violent cell in his body. Wire me if you're so worried."

"This isn't a
Law and Order
episode, Annie, we don't wire civilians, and you're not trained for this--say one wrong thing and you screw up the case you're so anxious to solve."

"Please, Gary, for a whole year I couldn't do one damn thing up there to help myself.
I need to be a part of this.
I know Wayne. If Mom told him anything about her stepbrother, I can get it out of him."

"Sorry, not negotiable. You're just going to have to be patient. I have to head to court now, I'll call you later."

"Okay,
okay.
"

I glanced at my clock. Eight-fifteen a.m. In two hours Wayne would be sitting down alone at the diner he goes to every morning when he doesn't have a job, which is most mornings--Mom never goes because she's usually sleeping off her hangover. Yeah, sure, I'd be patient, for about an hour and forty-five minutes.

Most of the morning rush at the diner had cleared out, but the scent of bacon grease still hung in the air as I slid into a booth right in front of the window.

A waitress came over with a note pad and pencil. The pencil had teeth marks in it and her nails were chewed to the quick. Like mine. I wondered what made her nervous.

"What can I get you?"

"Just a coffee for now."

"Oh, I know you--you're Wayne's daughter, Annie, aren't you? How you doing, sweetie?"