Missing Child (28 page)

‘Stop trying to get your worthless brother off the hook. My daughter did not try to kill herself,’ Westy insisted.

‘No,’ said Catilin. ‘He was running away from you. You chased after her, and she ran out into the road and right in front of an oncoming truck.’

Westy shook his head. ‘Travis is a disturbed child to make up a story like that. And the fact that you believe him . . . That is really troubling. Everybody knows that Emily was out at her mailbox, picking up the mail when your brother came around the bend like a bat out of hell and hit her,’ Westy said.

‘Yes,’ said Caitlin. ‘I was thinking about that, on my way over here. That mail scattered everywhere. It took me a while to figure that out.’

Westy was staring at her contemptuously. ‘Figure what out?’

‘Once my brother fled the scene, instead of calling for help, you took the precaution of removing the mail from the mailbox and scattering it all around the spot where Emily’s body was lying. Staging the accident. And then you told Travis, before you put him in your car and dropped him off at home, that if he ever said anything about the events of that afternoon, you would kill his dog. Kill Champ.’

‘Ridiculous,’ Westy scoffed, but there was an undercurrent of uncertainty in his voice.

‘Ridiculous?’ Caitlin cried. ‘Monstrous is more like it. That kid hasn’t had a day when he wasn’t afraid in these last four years.’

‘Travis,’ Westy scoffed. ‘Who would believe that greedy little brute? He was always happy enough to take my money and the gifts. When I picked him up from school he was always ready to come with me.’

Caitlin felt like she going to be sick to her stomach. ‘You paid him? A fatherless six-year-old boy? You offered him gifts? How long did this go on? How many times did you assault him?’

‘Assault.’ Westy shook his head. ‘This is what I get for my kindness to that kid? You call it assault?’

Caitlin stared at him, trying to imagine how twisted a person would have to be to call a child’s rape ‘kindness.’ ‘I think the police will call it assault,’ she said. ‘I’m quite sure of that.’

Westy’s eyes were cold. ‘Travis is a liar. As for you, you would do anything to try to blame someone else for what your brother did. I suggest you keep this ridiculous story to yourself.’

Caitlin shook her head. ‘Or else what? Do you think you can scare me with your threats? I’m not a child. I’m not afraid of you. And in case you have ideas about silencing me, or Travis, before I even came over here I called the police. And I made sure that Travis and Champ were somewhere safe. You are not going to get away with this. I should have let the police come for you, but I just couldn’t resist seeing your face when you realized that you were caught in your lies.’

Caitlin heard her phone ring in her jacket pocket. ‘That will be Detective Mathis now,’ she said. She reached down into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Before she could even register the name on the ID, Westy knocked the phone from her hands and it skittered across the room. She chased after it. As she bent to pick it up, she looked up and saw him looming over her, a hammer in his hand.

‘You should not have come here,’ he said.

The door to Sam Mathis’s office opened and a heavyset, gray-haired man in torn jeans, a leather vest and a bandana headband came out. ‘Is that it?’ he said.

‘That’s it,’ said the detective.

‘Do I need to come back?’ the man asked.

‘Nope. I appreciate your taking the time to come here. As for you,’ said Sam, turning to Noah, who was sitting between his attorney, David Alvarez, and a uniformed officer, ‘you’re a lucky guy. This man just gave you an airtight alibi.’

Noah stood up and reached out to shake the man’s hand. ‘Thanks, Jim. That’s the second time you saved my butt. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.’

Jim shrugged. ‘Glad to help you out.’

‘It doesn’t seem fair that your good deed screwed up the convention for you. Are you headed back there?’ Noah asked.

Jim shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. No, I think Detective Mathis here saved me from making a big mistake.’

‘Oh?’ Noah asked.

‘I ran into my ex-wife there. She was getting the “Linda loves Jim” tattoo removed from her shoulder blade. We got to talking and before you know it she was telling the guy removing the tattoo that she’d changed her mind. I may have dodged a bullet.’

The other men nodded knowingly.

Jim waved and headed for the door. David Alvarez turned to Sam. ‘My client is free to go then?’

Sam nodded. ‘We need to get back to finding his little boy.’

‘Thanks for the effort you put into this,’ said David. He shook hands with Sam, and then with Noah, and promised to be in touch. Then he picked up his briefcase and walked out.

Noah sighed. ‘How is Dan doing anyway? Has he regained consciousness? You need to question him about Geordie as soon as he comes around.’

‘I’m aware,’ said Sam, holding his phone to his ear and frowning as he listened to his voicemail. He punched a number into his phone and waited. Then he looked at Noah. ‘Caitlin left me a voicemail saying it was important but she’s not answering.’ He led the way to the chief clerk’s desk where he signed a release for Noah’s belongings. He handed the manila envelope to Noah.

‘I’ll find out what it was,’ said Noah, emptying out the envelope on a nearby desktop. He put his watch back on, put his wallet in his pocket, and stuck his phone in his jacket pocket. ‘Are you on your way to see Dan?’

‘That’s my next stop,’ said Sam.

‘Mind if I come along?’ said Noah.

‘No. I don’t want you at that hospital. Dan’s family has been through enough,’ said Sam. ‘If they see you walk in there, no explanation will be good enough to mollify them. Let me handle it. I know what to ask.’

‘I know you’re right,’ said Noah. He sighed as they left the building together. Standing on the sandstone steps of the station house, he scrolled through his missed phone calls, hoping to have one from Caitlin, and saw a whole series of calls from Naomi. He pressed a return call on one of them.

‘Noah,’ Naomi cried. ‘Are you out?’

‘I’m out,’ he said.

‘Thank God. I have to talk to you.’

‘I’m going to go,’ Sam interrupted him quietly. ‘Talk to you later.’

Noah nodded and returned his attention to his sister. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.

‘Are you with Caitlin?’

‘No,’ said Noah. ‘Why?’

‘She brought Travis and Champ over here to the free bookstore about an hour ago. She told me not to let Travis out of my sight for any reason. She said that the police were going to come and talk to Travis. She didn’t say why. She even asked Ed, the guy in the booth at the entrance, not to leave us alone with anyone in the free bookstore. What is going on? Do you know? Travis refuses to speak. He’s clammed up completely, but I can tell that he’s really upset.’

‘I don’t know, Naomi,’ said Noah.

‘Why would she do that? She’s scaring me.’

‘I’m sure she had a good reason,’ said Noah. ‘Do you know where she went?’

‘I don’t,’ said Naomi.

‘Does Travis?’ Noah asked.

‘I’ll ask him again, but he’s not answering me. Travis,’ she said, her voice muffled but audible. ‘Do you know where your Aunt Caitlin was going? Travis?’

There was a silence and then Naomi got back on the line. ‘Nothing.’

‘Let me talk to him.’

‘Travis, your uncle wants to talk to you.’ Naomi waited a second. Then she said, ‘He’s shaking his head.’

‘Put the phone to his ear.’

Noah could hear rustling and then the sound of adenoidal breathing.

‘Travis, this is Uncle Noah. I know there’s something the matter. You have to tell me what it is.’

‘Are you in jail?’ Travis asked.

‘No, I’m out of jail. Tell me about Aunt Caitlin. You were with her today?’

‘She said she could protect me,’ Travis said ruefully. ‘Me and Champ.’

‘Protect you from what?’ Noah asked. ‘Protect you from who?’

‘She made me tell her everything and now she’s gone,’ said Travis.

‘Tell her what?’ Noah asked.

Travis was silent.

‘Look, Travis. I’m worried about Aunt Caitlin. I’m afraid that she might be in some kind of trouble. Do you know where she was going after she left you with your mom?’

Travis remained silent.

Noah tried to remain calm and think, though all his instincts were on high alert. ‘Who was she going to protect you from? Maybe that’s where she went. To beat that person up.’

‘She couldn’t beat him up. He’s too strong,’ said Travis scornfully.

‘Who, Travis?’

‘Ask Caitlin.’

‘I can’t, Travis. She’s not answering her phone.’

‘When she does . . .’

‘What if she can’t?’ Noah asked.

Travis was silent for a moment. Then he said, in a defeated tone, ‘Mr Bergen,’ he said.

‘Geordie’s Uncle Dan?’ Noah asked.

‘No,’ said Travis. ‘The other one.’

THIRTY

C
aitlin came to, her face and hair sweaty, her mind groggy. She blinked her eyes and saw . . . nothing. She was seated on a chair, her wrists fastened tightly behind the chair back with some kind of thin wire, her upper arms burning with pain. Her ankles were joined with the same wire and anchored to the chair legs. She inhaled sharply, overcome by fear, and then understood, as it was sucked into her mouth, covering her teeth and tongue, that a black plastic bag had been tied around her neck. She could feel the wire cutting into her airways when she moved her head. Her head was pounding where he had struck her. How long had she been here? He had left her here to die. He might never come back. It was impossible to breathe and her heart was racing.

Palm trees, she told herself. Don’t lose it now. Someone will find you. She had left a message for Sam. And Travis had revealed his secret to her. She told herself that it would not be as difficult for him to reveal it a second time. Someone would know where to look, she thought. They had to. She needed to keep calm and try to breathe as shallowly as possible so she did not suffocate from the bag.

Now that it was too late, she realized that she should never have come here on her own. She should have waited, let the police take care of it. She had been too eager to confront him. She had done this to herself.

Between her regrets and the lack of air, Caitlin’s heart beat painfully in her chest. She wondered if she was still in the workshop and thought that she probably was. Westy had surprised her with his strength, but he was probably not strong enough to move her inert body out of the workshop. Not in daylight. Not without being seen.

She tried to move around, to budge the chair, but all around her feet were objects which brushed against her ankles. Her head and shoulders also were also draped with something. She forced herself to be calm, and try to think. Heavy fabric, empty sleeves. She was in the closet. She kicked the objects around her feet. Boots or shoes. He had left her in the closet.

Who would look for me here, she thought? But that was the kind of thought which led to despair and she didn’t dare think it. She sat still, trussed to the plastic chair, and tried to keep breathing. She thought of Noah and of Geordie. She had the awful, unbearable thought that Geordie might have been held captive like this. Had Westy taken him? Kept him somewhere? Forced on him the same depraved acts that he had visited on Travis? Geordie would never be able to understand. He would panic, hyperventilate. Die.

Caitlin felt tears rising to her eyes but she knew that sobbing would be the worst possible thing to do. Sobbing could hasten her death. She forced herself to stop thinking of anything but those goddam palm trees. She pictured them and felt her heartbeat slow down a little bit. She refused to imagine the face of her beloved boy. She couldn’t. Not if she ever hoped to see him again.

She tried to work her hands and feet free, pulling them apart a millimeter at a time. It was exquisitely painful as the wire cut into her skin, but she didn’t really care. What would be the worst that could happen? Her skin would be flayed and she would bleed. So be it. She had to do something to try to save herself. But he had tied her tightly and her progress seemed negligible. She tried to jerk herself forward in the chair, but the piles of boots impeded her and she felt herself end up somewhat off balance, one leg of the chair caught on the open top of a boot. Angrily, she tried again, and this time felt herself stuck at an angle, trying to keep her balance.

All of a sudden, she froze. She heard the muffled sound of voices somewhere outside of the closet. Her heart seized in fear. Was he back? Had he come back to kill her?

As the door to the workshop opened, she sagged forward in relief. It was a woman’s voice. Caitlin could barely make out the words.

‘He’s not here. There’s no one in here,’ the woman said. ‘I told you that.’

I’m in here, Caitlin tried to cry out, but when she inhaled the plastic bag filled her mouth, and the wire around her neck conspired to keep her voice muffled. She tried to grunt, to make explosive sounds, but the sounds she made were so strangled that she could barely hear them herself.

‘He wanted me to rest. He went back to the hospital.’

Caitlin recognized Paula’s voice. She was talking about Westy. He had gone to the hospital. To see Dan. Caitlin thought about Dan and then, with a sickening sensation in the pit of her stomach, she put it together. It was Westy. He was the one who had attacked Dan. Had Dan somehow found out the truth about his father? Had he confronted Westy?

A man’s voice murmured something which Caitlin could not understand.

Don’t try to listen, she thought. It doesn’t matter what they are saying. There are people in the workshop and they aren’t going to be here for long. What could she do? She had to attract attention. Make enough noise for them to hear her.

She had nothing to rattle, nothing to bang. The only thing she had, she thought, was her own body. She had made a start. She needed to go the rest of the way and hope she didn’t strangle herself in the process. She shifted her weight to the tilting side of the unbalanced chair. She leaned over the arm as far as she could, the wire cutting grooves into her skin, and she felt the chair tipping. She was helpless but there was no other choice. She threw all her weight in the direction of the tilt and let the chair, with her in it, fall over.