Missing Child (10 page)

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Authors: Patricia MacDonald

BOOK: Missing Child
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The men bantered about the weather and fishing they had done in the marshes near Goshen Hill Road. Caitlin soon realized, from their conversation, that these men had met one another in the course of searching for Geordie. They had all been out several times during the week. Her heart swelled with gratitude toward them, though she couldn’t say it.

‘Yeah, they got muskrats out in that swamp,’ said one of the men in the back.

‘Tons of ’em. Ugly little creatures.’

‘Are you kidding?’ said Jerry. ‘I’ve been to that muskrat banquet at the VFW Hall. ‘They’re pretty tasty if you cook ’em right.’

Caitlin thought she was going to be sick. ‘Is it far?’ she asked weakly.

‘Right up ahead,’ said Jerry. He stopped the car and put it in park. ‘All ashore that’s going ashore,’ he said cheerfully.

Everyone piled out of the vehicle. The police were all in yellow vests, and two of the cops had German shepherd dogs on a leash. The dogs were growling and panting, as if they could not wait to get started. It seemed to take a fair amount of muscle to hold them in check. Caitlin saw one of the police officers offering a red rag under their noses for them to sniff. Suddenly Caitlin recognized the rag. It was a T-shirt she had taken it from Geordie’s closet when Sam Mathis asked her for an item of clothing which Geordie often wore. She felt faint when she realized what she was looking at.

‘All right, people, listen up,’ said Ralph. ‘Follow your group leader and watch where you step. These marshes can look solid and then give way without warning. The boy has only been missing for four days now, so there is no chance that you will find a skeleton or bones belonging to him. If you find him, he’s still going to be intact . . .’

Caitlin had to turn away and take a deep breath. He was talking about her son. Get over it, she thought. Sam Mathis warned you not to come.

‘You OK?’ asked one of the men in her party.

Caitlin nodded. ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Let’s go.

Caitlin soon found that she had to watch every step she took. Staying near the trees was no guarantee of staying dry. The trees seemed to be rooted in the muck. Over and over again Caitlin slid in mud, or on slick leaves, and nearly ended up in the brown water which seemed to rise in pools around her boots. As they picked their way along, she and the others in her group found food wrappers and empty cups from what would seem to be every fast-food restaurant in South Jersey. They found nothing belonging to Geordie.

He’s not here, she thought. If he were here, I would know it. I would just feel it. She kept her intuition to herself. These good people were enduring a fair amount of misery, and she didn’t want to discourage their willingness to search.

All of a sudden, the dripping quiet of the marshes was rent by the anxious, high-pitched sound of the dogs barking. Their ferocious baying was incessant. Caitlin thought she had never heard a sound so terrible. Her heart began to hammer, and she felt all the blood drain from her head into her feet. She swayed as she stood in place.

‘Don’t fall in there, Kate,’ said Jerry amiably. ‘It’s just the dogs.’

She looked up and saw him standing at the edge of the water, looking toward the clearing where the clamor was originating. ‘Sounds like they’ve got something,’ he said.

Caitlin did not reply. For a moment she stood frozen at the edge of the swampy water. Then, she turned away from the ooze where she had been searching, and began to run, slipping and sliding across the leaves, her face whipped by bare tree branches in her path. She ran in the direction of the dog’s barking.

‘Hey, take it easy,’ Jerry called out. ‘I think we’re supposed to stay together.’

Caitlin ignored him. Stop it. Stop it, she thought. She felt furious at the dogs for their obvious excitement. As if something wonderful had happened. Like vultures. Like vampires. She emerged from a copse of trees and saw the cluster of police and searchers who had gathered around the dogs. No, she thought. NO.

Before she could get any closer, she heard one of the cops calling out in a loud, edgy voice. ‘It’s nothing, people. Forget about it. False alarm. They saw a muskrat and wanted to chase it.’

There was relieved laughter from the searchers, who turned back to what they were doing.

Caitlin doubled over, resting her hands on her thigh, as if she had just run a race, and tried to calm the thudding of her heart. It was nothing. They’d found nothing. He’s not here. She knew now that she didn’t want them to find anything in this desolate marsh. If Geordie had been lost or left here, he would freeze. He would drown. He could never survive it. She needed to go home. She needed to get away from this terrible place. She could not stand to imagine him here, alone. Afraid.

‘Hey, look,’ someone shouted. Caitlin straightened up shakily.

‘Glasses. I found a pair of glasses!’ the searcher cried out.

The police in their yellow vests began to converge on him as he pointed to the prize at his feet, but Caitlin got there first.

She came up beside the old man, and saw the reflection off a lens below the surface of the water.

Instantly, she bent down, plunged her hand into the water and pulled the broken glasses out of the muck.

‘Do not touch anything you find,’ the approaching officer scolded. ‘I thought we made that clear. Ma’am, please do not pick anything up.’

Caitlin grasped the glasses in both hands, and tears rolled down her face. She began to shake her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘No.’

‘What do you think you’re doing? Give me those glasses,’ the officer demanded. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

Caitlin continued to shake her head. ‘No,’ she repeated.

‘No what?’

Caitlin clutched the glasses to her chest. ‘They’re not his,’ she gasped.

The officer peered at her, while the other searchers formed a jagged horseshoe around them. ‘How do you know?’ he said. ‘Wait. Are you . . .’ His voice faded away.

Caitlin did not lift her head. ‘I need to go home,’ she whispered.

Caitlin sat silent in the front seat while the young officer named Ralph drove her to the house. She was shivering from head to toe, and she could not stop the tears which continued to run down her cheeks. She wiped them away automatically.

The squad car pulled into the driveway behind two squad cars, Noah’s car, and another, beat-up car which she did not recognize. Caitlin turned to the officer. ‘I’m very sorry, officer. I shouldn’t have . . . I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble.’

‘Probably best if you leave the searching to us,’ he said gravely.

Caitlin nodded, and thanked him again before she emerged from the car and walked up to the house. She thought about a hot bath and cup of tea with Noah.

She couldn’t think past that right now.

She opened the front door and walked inside. Noah was seated at the edge of a sofa cushion, tapping the tips of his fingers on the arm of the sofa. His face was pale, and his eyes held a warning.

Seated opposite him in a sage-green rocking chair was an overweight, mocha-skinned young woman with a pitted complexion and a dried-out mop of frizzy brown hair. She was wearing a tight skirt, fishnet stockings with holes in them and a black pleather jacket. An oversized cross was hanging from a chain around her neck.

She looked up as Caitlin came in to the room. ‘Caitlin,’ she said. ‘How you doin’, girl?’

Caitlin’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Karla!’

‘I saw you and your husband here on the internet,’ she said. ‘I knew I had to come.’

NINE

K
arla stood up in her wedge-heeled boots, walked over to Caitlin and embraced her. Then she pulled away. ‘You’re sopping wet,’ she said.

Caitlin glanced at Noah who was staring at her, unsmiling. His body was rigid with tension. ‘I went out on the search today,’ Caitlin explained.

There was not a flicker of warmth in Noah’s eyes. He did not ask if she or the other searchers had found anything.

‘Karla, um . . . this might not be the best time for a visit,’ Caitlin said.

‘Why not?’ Noah demanded.

Caitlin looked at her husband in surprise.

‘Oh, I came all the way from Coatesville just to see you,’ Karla said balefully. ‘I guess I shoulda waited for an invitation, but I just felt so bad for you all. I didn’t want to wait. As you know, I was in . . . rehab when James died. I wished I could have come then. But I’m here now.’

Caitlin was afraid to look at Noah. ‘I really need to change into something dry. Did you want something to drink? There’s probably soda or iced tea in the fridge.’

Karla made a smoothing motion with her hands. ‘I’m fly.’

‘I’ll be right back,’ said Caitlin uncertainly. She looked at Noah. ‘Honey . . .?’

Just then, one of the officers who were forever with them came out of the kitchen. ‘Mr Eckhart. Can I have a word?’

‘Sure,’ said Noah, standing up abruptly. ‘Nice talking to you, Karla.’

‘And to you too, Noah,’ said Karla. ‘I hope everything goes good and you get your boy back.’

Noah scowled and followed the officer into the kitchen. Caitlin ducked into their bedroom, pulled off her wet things and threw on the first dry clothes she put her hands on. She felt as if she had to get Karla out of the living room and into some less public place, but judging by Noah’s expression it was already too late. She ran a comb through her hair and returned to the living room.

She indicated a small, book-lined room off of the living room at the front of the house. ‘Why don’t we go into the den,’ Caitlin said. ‘It’s . . . cosier.’

Karla nodded agreeably. ‘Whatever,’ she said.

Caitlin led the way into the den and indicated a crewel-work embroidered wing chair. Karla settled herself into it, and Caitlin curled up in the leather club chair opposite it.

‘You seem different, Karla,’ said Caitlin. It was true. The girl she remembered from James’s junior high school days was sullen and monosyllabic. The crucifix was new as well. Karla’s religion had been prescription drugs, mainly stolen, as Caitlin remembered it. That was why she got arrested just before Caitlin’s family left Coatesville for South Jersey.

‘I am different,’ said Karla. ‘Truly different. I have found the way, and the light.’

‘Well, that’s great,’ said Caitlin.

‘My Lord Jesus Christ,’ said Karla unselfconsciously.

‘That’s good,’ said Caitlin. ‘I’m happy for you.’

‘Would you like it if we said a prayer together? For your son?’ Caitlin asked.

‘That’s all right,’ Caitlin demurred.

‘We all need the Lord’s help,’ Karla insisted. ‘I’m just saying.’

‘I know. There’s been . . . quite a lot of praying going on,’ said Caitlin.

‘I’m glad to hear that,’ said Karla. ‘I figured as much. On the Net it showed a lot of people around here trying to help.’

‘Everyone has been very kind,’ said Caitlin. She pulled a knitted throw over her legs. She was still shivering. ‘I must admit I . . . wasn’t expecting to see you here.’

‘Talk about the Lord working in mysterious ways. I was surfing the Net and I came across your video. It was getting a lot of hits ’cause people love to know about missing children. Me, too. I admit it,’ she said, raising her hands as if confessing to a love for choc-olate ice cream. ‘Anyway, I wasn’t even thinking about you and all of a sudden . . . Well, I could not believe my eyes,’ said Karla. ‘There you were, looking just the same as I remembered you. Not that I saw you all that much when I was with James. You used to work somewhere else . . . Where was it?’

‘In New England,’ said Caitlin. ‘I was at a college in Massachusetts.’ The shivering was getting worse. Her teeth were actually chattering. Karla did not seem to notice.

‘That’s right. I remember now. James always said you were the smart one.’

Caitlin nodded, pained at the mention of her brother.

‘I wish I coulda been here when James died,’ Karla continued. ‘First they said I could go to the memorial, but when they found out it was out of state they said no. I cried and cried. It was like the worst day of my life.’

‘I don’t . . . like to think about that time,’ said Caitlin.

Karla would not be deterred. ‘When I got out, I organized a memorial service for him at my church. It wasn’t anything big, but some of his old friends came. I sent you an invitation. Did you get it? I sent it to your parents’ address. The house you were living in when James . . . you know . . .’

‘No,’ said Caitlin. ‘I didn’t. It was a very chaotic time. I’m sorry. That was very nice of you.’

‘Well, it turned out very beautiful. My pastor let us play a lot of James’s favorite music. A couple of people said stuff. I made a DVD. I’ll send it to you.’

‘That’s really . . . I’m really glad to hear that,’ said Caitlin. ‘He would have liked that.’

‘I know he wasn’t a church person. Well, neither was I when I knew him. But I got involved with this church group while I was in rehab and it really changed my life. It’s really opened my eyes and I found my way.’

‘That’s wonderful, Karla,’ said Caitlin, getting out of the chair. ‘And it was nice of you to come here. I wish I could ask you stay to dinner or something but we are in such a terrible state because of . . . our son being missing.’

Karla nodded sympathetically. ‘I know. How terrible for you. What happened to him? The little boy?’

Caitlin shook her head. ‘I really . . . I can’t get into it. It’s been all over the news. He was . . . abducted from his school.’

‘Well, I know that. I saw that when I saw you on the Net. I just meant, do you know why?’

‘Why someone would take a little six-year-old boy? No, I have no idea.’

‘I know it’s sometimes hard to discern God’s purpose,’ Karla said solemnly.

Caitlin sighed. ‘Yes. Indeed it is.’

‘Like with James,’ she said.

Caitlin stared at her. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Well, suicide. I mean, that is the lowest depths.’

‘Actually, he died of a drug overdose,’ said Caitlin.

Karla shrugged. ‘Well, that was just the way he picked to go.’

‘I suppose that’s true,’ Caitlin said quietly.

‘I wish I coulda been there for him during those dark days,’ Karla continued. ‘I mean, he and I . . . Our souls were very bonded together. I often think I could have saved him. But while I was in the facility there were strict rules about the phone and texting and I wasn’t allowed access. He needed somebody he could talk to day and night. Plus, I was very involved in my own recovery and all. I didn’t realize how that guilt was getting to him . . .’

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