Chasing Amanda (16 page)

“No problem,” he smiled in a curious way.

Molly could feel his eyes on her back as she climbed into her van.

Molly stepped out of her van and looked around the parking lot of the Adventure Park. She would never have guessed a child had gone missing from the park had she not known. Children played on the equipment, mothers chatted, and no one noticed as she walked down the grassy hill toward the woods. She realized how easy it would be for someone to walk from the woods to the parking lot and vice versa without so much as a sideways glance. It was too easy.

Molly didn’t hesitate. She moved quickly to the edge of the woods, stepping over the untethered yellow police tape and expecting to be greeted by the force that she had encountered during the search. Instead, the air held a peaceful, almost welcoming quality. Leaves crunched under her feet as she moved branches and walked deeper into the forest. Molly carefully stepped over fallen timber and tried to weave her way around the thorny sprigs that clawed at her from every direction. She was prying a thorn from her sweater when she realized that she was near the site where Hannah had been crouched—where the ground had been warm. Molly removed her pad and looked over the drawings she had made of the area, noting the three rocks that were arranged in a triangular fashion near a lone green bush. She was sure she was near the spot, although something struck her as being different, out of place. She tucked the notepad away in her backpack which she tossed onto a nearby bush. Molly scanned the ground. A lone flower lay on the earth—a white marigold, brown around the edges and wilting. Instinctively, she reached for the flower, retrieving her empty hand quickly as heat intensified beneath it.

“Pretty flower, huh, Mrs. Tanner?”

Molly jumped up and spun around, ready to flee or fight, whatever the situation might command. Officer Brown stood just a few feet from her, his heavy hands in his overcoat pockets, a smirk pasted on his face.

“My God! You scared me,” Molly accused.

“Well, you scared me, too.” He walked toward her. “What are you doing, Mrs. Tanner?” He lifted his chin toward the flower. “What brings you here?”

“I…” she searched frantically for an alibi, “I wanted to see if I could find any hint of Tracey.”
Yeah,
she thought, g
o with confidence.
Molly pulled her shoulders back and steadied her hands. “I know it sounds silly, but I think these woods hold the answers. I mean, where else could she have gone?”

Officer Brown walked around Molly, stopping only a foot from the heated ground. He turned and bent over from the waist, his large rear end too close for Molly’s comfort. She held her breath and stepped backward.

“Hmm,” he nodded his head, turned, and walked across the spot where Molly had encountered the heat. Molly stared, mesmerized. “What do you think you will find here, Mrs. Tanner?”

Molly swallowed, answering quickly, “I don’t know. A path? A lead of some sort?” she walked to her right, trying to steer him away from the area. “It seems to me that Tracey must have come this way. I mean, her mother and sister were walking
away
from here, so they would have seen her if she had walked toward the parking lot,” she shrugged. “So that leaves the woods.”

“No, I didn’t know that,” she said, taking a step backward. “Good to know,” she looked down. Then she turned her eyes back to his. “Surely, Officer Brown,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster, “you don’t think I’m a suspect?”

“Never said that,” he quipped. “Just thought it was interesting that you came by the station this morning, asked questions about leads, and here I find you at the same spot as the abduction, that’s all.” He picked up a twig and set it between his yellowing teeth, like a toothpick. “Now, why
are
you here?” he asked.

“Jesus Christ,” Molly said, with a frustrated sigh, “I am looking for leads, okay?” She stepped away from him, raised her voice, “I think we’ll find them here. Why in God’s name would I abduct a small child? I mean, look at my life, it’s pretty full, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You seem to have time to wander around the woods during the day,” he said in a patronizing way.

Molly was angry. “No! I
make
the time. There
is
a difference,” she said, strongly. “I can’t believe this. Do you want to arrest me? Or maybe you can’t find leads and you feel badly, so you need someone to hang it on? Well, keep dreaming, sir,” she said with sarcasm, “because there is no correlation between me and Tracey Porter besides my own desire to help find her.” Molly put her hands on her hips, accentuating her firm stance on her innocence. “By the way,” she retorted, “have you considered consulting a psychic? Someone who might be able to
see
where she is?”

He laughed a hearty, condescending laugh and kicked at the leaves on the ground. “Oh yeah, and we’ve invited the Mickey Mouse Club, too,” he chuckled. “We thought maybe they could do a dance, and the abductor would magically appear.”

For a split second, Molly had considered telling him about her visions, but decided firmly against it the moment the laugh had left his lips.
Thick-minded ass.
“I’m being serious, Officer Brown,” she said. “There are people who might be able to help you find her,” she pleaded. “Tracey’s time
must
be running out—if she’s even still alive.”

“Well, statistically speaking, yes, you’re right. Her time is running out,” he said coldly.

“So? What now? Just walk around hoping to find her and accusing innocent people?” she spat the words angrily. “Oh, am I like Rodney Lett now?” she asked. “Well,” she said as she turned away from him. “I won’t be your scapegoat, Officer Brown. I have an alibi, and I have been instrumental in trying to find her.”

“Calm down, Molly,” he said, spitting the twig onto the ground. “Calm down. I’m not saying that you
are
a suspect. I’m simply wondering why you’re here and letting you know that the abductor usually visits the crime scene shortly after the crime.” Officer Brown watched Molly’s back as she stopped walking. “Yup, there have been cases when killers have actually been at the scene while the police were investigating, within hours of the murder.”

Molly spun around, “Well, let’s hope that you are
not
investigating a murder,” she said, emphatically.

“Of course,” he said casually, and he turned to walk out of the woods, hesitating a moment later. “Molly,” he said with his back to her, “let me know if you find anything here, will ya?” he continued walking away.

“Actually, I wanted to catch up to you, but you had driven away. So,” he paused, motioned around with his right hand, “I suppose, yes, I followed you.”

“Oh!” he said jovially. “I wanted to let you know that I looked into the Rodney Lett thing, and sure enough, he was buried in Delaware, so there’s no chance that he’s part of this. There’s no correlation between the two.” He looked pleased with the news.

Molly nodded, processing the information. She couldn’t help herself, she felt compelled to throw it back at him, “Well, I wasn’t really concerned that Rodney Lett was the one who took Tracey. I was more concerned that whoever took
Kate
might have also taken Tracey.”

“I told you, Molly, Rodney Lett is dead and buried.”

This is a positive journey I’m on
, Pastor Lett reminded herself as she drove toward the Porters’ home. She realized that she’d been reminding herself of her role quite often recently. The events of late were reminiscent of her own journey, years ago—like opening an old wound.
Celia is hurting, scared, and probably feels to blame
, she thought to herself
. It’s my job as her pastor to ease that pain and to relieve that guilt
.

Anger grew within her as she thought of the procedures the police used to try and find Tracey Porter. The systems currently in place were the same lame checks and balances, in her opinion, as they had been twenty years earlier when they had investigated the disappearance of Kate Plummer. She grasped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned from white to red. Her mind turned to Rodney.
How could anyone have looked at that big lug and thought he could hurt a child?
She clenched her jaw and pulled the car to the side of the road, tears clouding her vision. She remembered Rodney’s face contorting with fear and pain for Kate when she had told him she was missing.

Rodney had sobbed. She remembered his pudgy, fisted hands, rubbing his tears away like a child might have done, but it had been Rodney’s reaction to the photo of Kate that had rocked Pastor Lett to her core. He had gone still as a statue. He had taken the photo out of Pastor Lett’s hand and had stared into the innocent eyes of Kate Plummer, as if he had, at that moment, through the image on the photo paper, connected with her. Rodney had said, “Girl in dark place.” Just like that—without explanation, without thought, or so it had seemed at the time. Those four words had terrified Pastor Lett.

She hadn’t wanted to leave Rodney that evening, but she had an obligation to the church. She had to complete her work, and then, she had promised herself, then she would focus on Rodney and try to understand those words—but it had been too late.

The phone call from the police had sent Pastor Lett rushing to the police station, chiding herself for having left Rodney at home alone. She had been taken to the interrogation room and had found Rodney sitting at that awful metal table, looking like a child caught sneaking a piece of candy from his favorite store—remorseful for an act he didn’t quite understand. The look he had given Pastor Lett when she had arrived—those big dark eyes pleading with fear—had filled her with remorse. Pastor Lett had gone to him, held him, and Rodney had sobbed on her shoulder. “Girl in dark place,” he had repeated. Pastor Lett stiffened at the words, having known full well why the police had brought Rodney in for questioning. Pastor Lett had thought, had hoped, that Officer Katan, a past member of the church who had known Rodney well and had been to their home for dinner, would protect her brother—but she was wrong.

The questioning, which had been futile at best, had left the police with little to go on.

“Rodney,” Officer Katan had asked, looking at Pastor Lett with an expression of apology, “do you know Kate Plummer?”

Rodney had rocked in his seat, a motion Pastor Lett had known too well—a motion that brought Rodney deeper into his own mind. Rodney had replied, “Girl in dark place. Girl in dark place.”

Again, Katan asked, “Rodney, do you know Kate Plummer?” He had taken Rodney’s rocking as affirmation of his knowledge.

“Wait!” Pastor Lett had pleaded. “He doesn’t know the girl. He’s only seen a picture of her!” she insisted. “Katan, he doesn’t know her!” Pastor Lett had turned frantically to Rodney, imploring him, “Rodney, tell them the truth. Tell them you don’t know Kate!” she had pleaded, but it had been like pleading with a child who knew he was right and didn’t understand the parental confusion.

Rodney had rocked harder, stating adamantly, “Girl in dark place!”

Then Katan had asked, “Rodney, where did you put her? Is she alive?”

Pastor Lett had stood abruptly, fisting her hands and breathing heavily. Rodney stopped rocking. He seemed to crawl inside his head for a moment, swimming around and coming out with a deep breath and an answer, “No pain. She’s with mommy,” Rodney had said.

Katan had hovered angrily over Rodney, yelling at him, “Mommy? Kate’s mother is not dead, Rodney. She has cancer, but she’s not dead! What the hell did you do, you big fool?”

Pastor Lett had stepped in between Rodney and Katan protectively. “Don’t you dare accuse him, Katan,” she had said sternly.

Rodney, confused by the anger, stood up, towering over Katan. Katan had squared his shoulders, staring at the large man’s thick chest. “Sit down, Rodney,” he commanded.

Rodney had looked down at him and said emphatically, “With mommy. Not in pain. No pain!”

Katan had taken that to mean that he had killed her.

Pastor Lett swooped into action—wrapping her arms around Rodney and allowing Rodney to cling to her, like a child fearing a stranger. Pastor Lett put her hand to the back of Rodney’s head, as if shielding him from Officer Katan. “Rodney, don’t say what you don’t know. You’re confusing Officer Katan.” She looked at Officer Katan and said, “He doesn’t know what he’s saying. Surely you see that.”