Without a Trace. Carissa Lynch Ann

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СКАЧАТЬ she wouldn’t. I s-sat on her bed, r-reading to her until she fell asleep. And I ch-checked on her a few times before I w-went to bed last night. I was w-worried. I looked around outside b-before I called, but I-I know h-he took her…”

      “How do you think your ex got in the house, if he didn’t have a key?” We were standing in the kitchen now. I stared at the child’s suitcase on the floor. It was decorated with smiley red cars, the one from that Pixar movie but I couldn’t remember the name of it. Not having a child myself, I suddenly felt unsure how to help this woman. My mother would know what to do and where to look, I thought. Instantly, I pushed that thought aside, feeling childish and incompetent.

      What I should do is call one of the officers back at the station, but they all hated my guts and didn’t trust me…

      I stared at the suitcase on the floor. Nova had time to hang up new clothes, but didn’t unload the suitcase, I noted. It was one more minor detail that made me think something was off…

      Nova chewed on her bottom lip and it looked like she was fighting back tears. “I don’t know. Maybe M-Martin picked the lock. He c-can be pretty clever when he w-wants to be.”

      “Do me a favor. Call him now, and I’ll go take a look outside. Okay?”

      Nova gave me a nervous nod, then opened one of the kitchen drawers. She took out a cheap flip phone and started dialing.

      “He w-won’t recognize this number. I left my cell behind when we m-moved. This was just a pr-prepaid ph-phone I p-picked up,” she explained, pressing the phone to her ear.

      Even though I’d said I was going outside to check, I stood still, watching her place the call. Please let the husband pick up the phone and say he has the girl, I hoped.

      What if someone from Northfolk took this child? That thought made me queasy. The last thing I needed was another run-in with a bad dude in Northfolk. But if someone from here did this…then I had to do something to help this woman and her child.

      Internally, I quivered at the thought. Why couldn’t some other officer have taken this call? I wondered, exasperated.

      “P-prick!” Nova snapped the phone back shut.

      “You didn’t leave a message,” I pointed out.

      “He never ch-checks his m-messages,” Nova explained, placing the phone on the kitchen counter.

      I took my own cell out, dialing the number I’d written down in my notebook. After three rings, the phone went to an automated voicemail box.

      “Martin Nesbitt, this is Officer Ellie James with the Northfolk police department. I need to speak with you right away. It’s urgent. Call me back at this number, please.”

      I started for the front door, eager to check outside, but then I stopped in the entranceway. I stared down at a pair of women’s running shoes. They were muddy. “Your daughter’s shoes. Where are they?”

      Nova’s eyes widened as her gaze followed mine. “Sh-she h-had sparkly orange sn-sneakers on when we got h-here yesterday.” Her eyes went fuzzy, her lips curling with anger. “If she put her shoes on, then she must have gone with him w-willingly! But w-why would she do that?”

      “Ma’am, I’m not sure. Hopefully, your husband will call back soon and clear this whole thing up. But for now, I’m going to check outside and then contact my sergeant about your daughter. Can you get some pictures together for me? If we issue an Amber Alert, I’ll need the most up-to-date photo you got…”

      But Nova was shaking her head back and forth, her skin turning paler by the minute. “I don’t have one. N-not even one ph-photo…” she breathed.

      “I know you guys just moved here, but how about a pic on your cell phone?”

      But Nova kept shaking her head. “I can’t believe it. I d-don’t even have one picture of my little girl. How insane is th-that?” She looked spacey now, and once again, I wondered if she might be using drugs.

      “Don’t worry, ma’am. We’ll get one. Maybe from a family member, or friend? Or if you could just pull up one of your albums on Facebook or Instagram…that will work, too.”

      “No,” Nova said, firmly, her eyes zeroing in on mine.

      “No?”

      How could this woman not have any pictures of her own daughter? It seemed completely unfeasible, but if she really was afraid of her husband maybe she did leave everything behind…

      “I wasn’t allowed to have a Facebook profile. I-I don’t even know what I-Instagram is, honestly. M-Martin was j-jealous. Controlling. He’s d-dangerous, I told you…”

      Yes. He was dangerous. That was about the only thing she’d made clear so far. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else—something she wasn’t telling me.

      “Family or friends with pictures…?”

      “I don’t really have any family. And any fr-friends I had…w-well, that was w-way before I married M-Martin.”

      Surely, she had pictures at her house in Tennessee, I considered. But Tennessee was a day’s drive away, and I needed something now.

      “What about pre-school or daycare? Any photos on file they could fax over to my office?”

      Nova cleared her throat. “Lily isn’t in pr-preschool yet. M-Martin wanted me to homeschool her. Can you believe that? Homeschool! M-Me! I don’t even b-believe in that crap…” she snapped, looking angry again. Her arms hung loosely at her sides, but she was shaking. As helpless as she seemed, I honestly felt the same.

      “Keep trying to call him, okay? And this time leave a message,” I urged, heading out to the front yard.

      I walked around the front and back of the property. There was a backdrop of woods behind the house, but the trees were thin and sparse, so it was easy to see through the wooded space. I called out, “Lily!”, but instantly felt silly as my own voice bounced back in my face.

      It was eerily quiet out here. And as I walked around the entire house and yard space, I saw no signs of a child. My stomach churned. Something feels so wrong about this…

      After going around three times and circling through the woods, I combed the ground in front of the house.

      If Lily was hiding, she would surely have come out by now.

      No pictures. Only new clothes and toys. It was like a child hadn’t even been here, I thought, spinning around in circles. I closed my eyes and pictured my niece, Chelsea. Her room was like a landmine of toys, my sister’s house a jungle gym of playthings. But Nova’s house was scrubbed clean, not a toy or stray article of clothing in sight.

      But she did say they just moved here, I reminded myself.

      There was a blue Celica parked at the side of the house, which I assumed belonged to Nova. I peered in through the passenger window. There was no little girl hiding inside.

      And no car seat in the vehicle either, I noted. How did she get Lily here without a car seat?

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