Splintered (28 page)

“No, I’m afraid not,” Nell answered.

Emma took another generous swallow of tea and stood, saying her good-byes. Back on the sidewalk, she pulled out her cell phone. This was the tip, the key piece of information that could unlock the path leading straight to Maddy. She just knew it.

“Detective Wallace.”

“Rocky, you need to start an official investigation into Maddy’s disappearance.”

“Whoa, Emma. Slow down. What’d you find out?”

“I have a witness that saw Maddy grabbed off the street yesterday morning and thrown into a white van.”

“Wait a minute. What witness?”

“Maddy’s next-door neighbor, Addie Addison.”

Wallace groaned. “I hate to tell you this, Emma, but Addie suffers from Alzheimer’s.”

“What are you talking about? She was completely lucid when I talked to her.”
At least until the end of the conversation.

“Tell me exactly what Addie said she saw.”

Emma relayed the conversation, then ended with, “I even found a set of fresh skid marks on the road right out in front of Addie’s house.”

“Think about it, Emma. Addie said she saw a man grab Maddy and drive away in a white van. What does that sound like?” When Emma didn’t answer, Wallace said it himself. “It sounds like the exact story Maddy told police when she described her made-up abduction. It was all over the news. Addie could have absorbed the details through any of the numerous television reports or newspaper articles. Alzheimer’s patients are notorious for mixing up dates of events. They don’t remember timelines like we do. Did she parrot you?”

“What do you mean, parrot me?”

“The day Maddy made her accusation, I interviewed Addie too. I made the mistake of asking her leading questions. All of her answers made it sound like she’d seen the incident firsthand. Luckily though, her daughter was at the house and explained that oftentimes, because of the dementia, Addie repeats back what the person says like it’s a fact—hence parroting.”

Emma remembered the end of her conversation with Addie. It’d been exactly as Rocky described. “But she didn’t do that. She was completely coherent when we spoke.” Emma cringed at her half-truth, but she couldn’t risk being completely honest if she expected Rocky to get on board with her theory.

“My great-aunt had Alzheimer’s for eight years before she passed away,” Emma said. “Some days were better than others. Many times, she’d have hours of lucidity before being thrust back into her stupor. I think today was one of Addie’s good days.”

“Listen to yourself, Emma. You want so badly to find Maddy that you’re trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. This is why family members aren’t allowed to work cases where they have a personal stake. It clouds their judgment.”

“That’s not what this is.”

“So you’re telling me that Maddy makes up a lie about two men in a van trying to abduct her, and then a week later two men in a van really
do
abduct her? Come on. Step back for a moment and listen to how that sounds. What would be your reaction if you were working a case and someone suggested that theory?”

A silence fell between them. Emma knew Rocky was waiting her out.

Is he right? Am I letting my love for Maddy cloud my judgment?

“I know how it sounds, Rocky, but . . . dammit!”

“It’s hard, I know, but you’ve got to hang in there. Tell me what else you’ve checked into.”

Emma ran down her list, updating him on each bullet point. She’d checked into the local transportation options and hospitals, which had been a bust. There was no romantic relationship between Maddy and an online suitor. The bus driver never saw Maddy waiting at the bus stop Tuesday morning. And the school confirmed she’d never made it to first period.

“Somewhere in the ten minutes between Maddy’s front porch and the bus coming by to pick her up, she disappeared,” Emma said. “How could that happen?”

The sound of flipping pieces of paper echoed over the phone.

“Information came back on Maddy’s cell phone,” Wallace said. “There haven’t been any calls since Sunday. The last text she sent was at 8:17 p.m. Monday evening. A short message to her mother explaining that she was running late. You and Maddy hung out at the mall that night, right?”

“Yes. She was in high spirits and looking forward to seeing her dad the following day. It has been five months since she’s seen him.”

“What about the dad? You look into him?”

“He doesn’t have her.” Emma’s tone indicated she didn’t want to discuss the topic any further. She thought back to her heated conversation with Tom earlier that morning. He’d almost hung up on her after she started reading him the riot act about bailing on his daughter. The only thing that had stopped him was Emma telling him that Maddy was missing. She could tell by his reaction that he’d had no idea. His barrage of questions also told her that Tom wasn’t the one who took Maddy.

Emma had suggested Tom go over to Lily’s house to wait for word there. She had promised to call with regular updates. Plus, Lily needed someone around right now. Though Emma was worried about her, she had to focus on finding Maddy. Holding true to form, Tom hadn’t gone to Lily’s, at least not since the last time she and Lily had spoken.

“You can stop by City Hall to pick up the list of phone numbers Maddy’s called and texted over the past two months,” Wallace said. “And I also wanted to let you know, I gave Paul Gleason a call. He said he wasn’t comfortable talking to another cop.”

Emma exhaled loudly. She wanted to scream in frustration. “But if someone took Maddy, his security camera would have gotten it on tape.”

“He checked the video footage himself and said there were no unusual vehicles in the neighborhood that morning.”

“What about Maddy? Did his camera capture her image walking by his house?”

“No.”

“No? How could she not walk by the house on the way to the bus stop?”

“Only one answer for that. When Maddy left the house, she turned left instead of right. She walked the opposite way from her bus stop.”

Emma thought back to the fresh skid marks she’d found on Maddy’s street. The vehicle’s tire would have left the heaviest tracks as it accelerated. Once the tires gained traction, the marks would have lightened up. The vehicle that left them would have been facing east, which would have taken it right by Paul Gleason’s house.

It doesn’t make sense. Do the skid marks belong to another vehicle?

“I’m telling you, Maddy did not run away. When I searched her house, I found money tucked inside her jewelry box. The two twenties I’d just given her Monday night. If she left home, she would have taken them with her.”

“Could be an oversight, a lack of planning. Leaving might have been a last-minute decision. Come on, Emma. You know kids these days with their grandiose ideas. Maddy probably hooked up with an old friend and is lying low for a while.”

“That’s not what happened. I know it.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t open an investigation with only a skid mark and an unreliable eyewitness statement. Keep digging though. I’m here if anything else comes up.”

She wanted to yell at Rocky, to make him understand that something wasn’t right. Yet, she knew she couldn’t afford to piss him off. Even though he didn’t believe her, he was the only one in her corner. She was already taking a huge risk by investigating this herself. If her Sergeant found out, he’d can her ass.

“Okay. I’ll call you when I have more.”

Emma only hoped she’d find more to call about.

Hank threw a balled-up sheet at Maddy. She greedily wrapped it around herself.

“The sooner you accept that this is your new life,” he said, “the faster you’ll learn your lessons.”

Hank pulled at the chain that was snaked through a hole cut in the bottom of the wall. It rattled as the full length of it poured into the room.

He must have unfastened it before he came in.

Maddy had already yanked the chain hard enough to know that it had been firmly fastened to something on the other side.

“I want to show you something.” He walked out of the room, chain in tow, leading her like a dog.

She hobbled forward into the living room and saw Daniel standing in the corner, watching them with anger in his eyes. Hank sat down on the couch and grabbed the remote. With his attention diverted, Maddy mouthed the words “Help me!” to Daniel. He looked away.

She crouched down, ready to take a seat on the couch, then felt a jolt of pain shoot through her backside as Hank hit her.

“I didn’t say you could sit,” he said. “I don’t want blood all over my couch.”

Maddy looked down at the white sheet—it was already streaked with lines of blood. Many of the cuts had dried, but a few of the deeper ones were still tacky. A noise caught her attention. She looked up and saw the image of newscaster Karl Hurley on the television screen. He was talking about Tampa’s recycling plant. Maddy didn’t understand what Hank wanted her to learn from this. Then Karl’s face grew serious. Her picture popped up in a box in the background behind the reporter.

The police are searching for me!

“Channel 3 News has received additional information about the girl who cried wolf. You’ll remember our exposé of Maddy Eastin, the King High School student who claimed two men tried to abduct her from her bus stop on September twenty-first. Another police report has been filed by the Eastin family—this time by the mother, Lily Eastin. She filed a missing persons report. It seems Maddy has run away from home. A Temple Terrace Police spokesperson had this to say, ‘We’ve thoroughly investigated the disappearance of Maddy Eastin and no signs of foul play have been uncovered. She’s been classified as a runaway.’”

Karl, who looked like he couldn’t care less about the story, continued on: “Police said they would reopen the case if any new information came to light, but this reporter thinks that this newest stunt by Maddy Eastin is just one more cry for help. So Cliff, what’s the weather going to be like—”

Hank turned off the TV. “You see? No one’s looking for you.”

Maddy wiped the tears that had been silently falling while she watched the recorded show. She stared at the one remaining droplet beaded up on her finger, wondering just how much pain a single teardrop could hold.

Hank turned over on his side and looked at the alarm clock beside his bed. It read 8:04 a.m.

Holy shit!
I haven’t slept so late since . . . since I can’t remember when. Good thing I texted my boss that lie last night about how my twenty-four hour bug turned into a forty-eight hour illness. I seriously pissed him off, especially after the three-day rain delay, but screw him. I have a boatload of sick days banked. Might as well use them.

Hank brought his hands over his head, stretching like a cat enjoying himself after a nice, long snooze. He hadn’t even gotten to bed that late. Must have been the enjoyment of a long hard day of “training” that had tuckered him out. He rolled out of bed whistling a tune he couldn’t remember the name of. He pulled on a pair of jeans and left his bedroom, then walked down the hall to the kitchen. Looking into the open living room, he saw Daniel sitting on the floor in front of the couch. Hank could only see the top of the boy’s head. He was looking down at something.

“Hey, Daniel. How about I make your favorite? Waffles with chocolate sauce instead of maple syrup?”

He rarely let Daniel indulge because the extra sugar sent him straight into hyper mode, but he figured what the hell. Hank was feeling on top of the world.

Daniel ignored him.

“Hey, Small Fry. Don’t be mad at me, I know—”

Daniel finally looked up and held a finger up to his mouth. “Shuuuuush.”

“What’s going on?” Hank walked into the living room while trying to scratch an itch between his shoulder blades. “Why do I have to be so—who the hell is that?”

He was staring at a teenage girl lying on his couch. Her hands were duct-taped together in front of her. Her legs were bound at the ankles.

“Quiet. You’ll wake her.”

“Her
who
?”

“Katie. Says so on her name tag.” Daniel pointed at the girl’s shirt to prove his point.

Hank recognized the uniform. It was from a restaurant not too far from their house.

“You told me to get my own girl.” Daniel puffed out his chest. “So I did.”

“Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!”

Hank started pacing in front of the couch. The picture of what must have happened became clearer. He vaguely recalled waking up to a noise sometime after one o’clock in the morning. He’d almost gone to check it out, afraid Maddy had somehow gotten out of her restraints, but then he’d heard Daniel’s voice and gave into the exhaustion pulling him back under.

Daniel had stormed out last night while Maddy watched the news report. Once the segment was over, Hank had taken her back to the bedroom to continue her training. Daniel hadn’t crossed his mind the entire night.

“What’s wrong, Hank? I did it just like you. Now we each have our own girl.” Daniel looked down at the Katie, a dreamy look on his face. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“You have no idea the shit that is about to rain down on us, brother.”

“Don’t worry, Hank. You worry too much. Last night when I left, I was mad, real mad. So I decided to go over to Antonio’s. Katie waited on me. She was so nice. She looks a little like Maddy, don’t you think? Older, but still a lot alike. I knew when she sat down next to me to take my order that she liked me. I waited outside for her, after she was all done working. It wasn’t hard to get her in the van. I felt bad hitting her, but I knew if I did everything just like you, it would all work out.”

Hank lowered his head, rubbed his forehead with the heels of his hands. “Oh, Daniel.”

Antonio’s was located in a small strip mall. Even though it was late, university kids were always out and about in that area. There was no way Daniel could have gotten away without being seen.

A noise brought Hank’s attention back to the couch. The girl was looking back and forth from Hank to Daniel, horrified. Her eyes looked like they would pop out of her head any minute. If he hadn’t been freaking out, he might have found it funny.