Since She Went Away (38 page)

Naomi took a seat in the spot on the couch Jared had vacated. “For now. I’ve already called in her father’s last known location. At least as close as we could get based on Natalie’s description. She’s young. She doesn’t know the highways and towns the way an experienced driver would. She didn’t even catch the name of the place.”

“She’s not from around here.”

“Right. Anyway, she was very helpful. And she’s quite strong, considering everything she’s been through.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

Naomi spoke in a lower voice. “It’s too early to tell about any physical or sexual abuse. Psychological abuse, yes. The girl’s been pretty close to a prisoner. But it actually seems like her father wanted to keep her from harm. In a twisted kind of way.”

“That’s a relief. I guess.”

“It’s a hard one to unravel. He let the girl go to school. She was able to go out other times. He didn’t have to take her away from here and go on the road with her. He could have . . . he could have been done with her.”

“I thought of that. He seemed to want to have her around.”

Naomi nodded. “I hate to use this word, since it seems like a perversion of the word and the idea, but maybe he really did love her. Maybe he really felt something for the girl.”

Jenna found the remote and turned the TV off. The more it ran, showing nonsense, the more her brain cells died. “What about that other stuff she said? The stuff about Ursula and Bobby?”

Naomi raised her eyebrows. “We’ll certainly be looking into that. Very soon.”

“What else happens now?”

“I send all this information to the state police, the State Bureau of Investigation, and the FBI. They share it along their networks and
with the media. We hope somebody sees him. He’s getting tired and desperate, according to Natalie. That’s mostly to our advantage.”

“She said she thought he might have wanted her to get away. Do you think that’s true?”

“My experience is guys like this don’t give up their toys so easily. He was probably just exhausted and she took advantage of it.”

Jenna rubbed her eyes. Sleeping in the chair gave her a crick in her neck. “What happens to Natalie? She’s welcome to stay here as long as she wants.”

Naomi was shaking her head. “I’m going to have to call Child Protective Services. She’s only fifteen, and they need to open a file on her and get her examined by a doctor and a shrink. They’re going to want to give her a full workup. As they should.”

“And then?”

“She’s going to go into the foster system temporarily, Jenna. They’ll try to locate a family member, but from what Natalie says, there aren’t any. They’ll find her a place to stay.”

Jenna sat up straighter, her neck pain forgotten. “Let her stay here. We’ve got room. We care about her.”

“It doesn’t work that way. I wish it did, but there’s a whole process in place.”

“Goddammit.”

Jenna placed her head in her hands. She wished she could remain in that position long enough—not looking, not seeing—that the problems around her would be resolved in some favorable and benevolent manner. But she knew they wouldn’t be. She wasn’t a little kid who could play hide-and-seek until somebody else—somebody older and more capable—shouted the all-clear.

It was her life. The swirl around her belonged to her.

“I don’t want to let this girl go, Naomi.” She kept shaking her head and spoke through hands still cupped over her face. “I had a
couple of chances with her. Once when she was here and again when Jared hinted at some problems. And then I saw her, Naomi. She came to me in the parking lot at work. Why didn’t I just grab her by the arm and not let her go?”

“Because you can’t just do that to somebody else’s kid,” Naomi said. “And I don’t have a degree in psychology, but you can’t save every girl in the world just because your best friend disappeared and you hold yourself responsible.”

Jenna took her hands away from her face. She studied the odd little woman on her couch. “Do you charge for this therapy?”

“Your tax dollars at work.” She checked her watch. “If she goes into the system locally, they’ll keep her in the area. You can both stay in touch with her no matter where she goes.”

“But if she goes back to Nebraska to live with relatives, I’m going to have a teenager with a shattered heart.”

“I think you already do.” Naomi stood up. She smoothed her knit pants around her thighs. “I’m going to call them. It’s Saturday now, so they’ll be moving slower. It will give the kids a little time to say good-bye.”

“Good.”

“I don’t want to leave her here without protection, so I’m going to stay until they show up. Unless you want me to take her to the station with me.”

“No, I wouldn’t want that.” Jenna shivered. “But please, some extra protection would be nice. If that maniac is out there . . .”

“I’ll be here. And there will be extra patrols.” Naomi was starting to look even more tired. “I forgot to tell you. Benjamin Ludlow is finally sticking to one story. He’s saying he didn’t just find the earring the day he tried to sell it at the pawnshop. He said he’s been carrying it around for almost two months. Almost as long as Celia’s been gone.”

“What does that mean?”

“He says he was out looking for cans, like he said before, but he saw a man throw the earring into the field where Ludlow found it. A young man, but he couldn’t give much of a description. He says it was dark.”

Jenna waited for Naomi to add something, and when she didn’t, Jenna asked, “Does that help us?”

“A young man. Who knows? But no description and an unreliable witness.” Naomi shrugged. “I’ll let you know what I hear.”

“I guess it’s not William Rose.”

“Probably not. If Ludlow is telling the truth.”

Then Jenna asked, “This whole thing with William Rose, though. If he really hurt Celia . . . and Ian hired him. Ian put him onto her.”

“He may have.”

“Was Ian really forthright with the police about it?” Jenna asked. Her mouth felt dry, her chest tight. “I know you’ll just tell me I can’t know, but I have to ask. Was he honest with you?”

“In my opinion,” she said, “he was. He directed us to Henry Allen right after Celia disappeared. We didn’t find anything. We don’t know if William Rose was in town then. As far as we can tell, he came and went a lot. We’re still piecing together his movements at that time. Remember, Natalie started school here in Hawks Mill just about a month ago. When Henry Allen turned up dead, we looked again. William Rose’s name came up, of course, but he’d already committed that murder. He was long gone.”

“Thanks.” But Jenna didn’t feel much better. She felt sick.

“Ian’s got a lot to live with, I’m sure.”

“Thanks, Naomi. By the way, I met someone tonight. Domino fifty-five.”

“The Internet troll? He came here?”

“The man himself,” Jenna said. “He showed up claiming to have a photograph of Celia. Said she’s staying up in northern Indiana where her grandparents used to have a place.” Jenna read the interest
on the detective’s face. “I saw the photos. They’re not of Celia. Just a woman with brown hair. He’s a lonely old crackpot who likes to hang out on message boards and try to solve crimes.”

“He should get a cat.”

•   •   •

Jenna made a lot of noise as she went out to the kitchen. She walked with a heavy tread and cleared her throat once or twice.

But she found the two kids sitting side by side and holding hands. They both looked as though they’d been crying, and they both wiped at their eyes when she came to the doorway. She felt as though she was intruding, so she looked down at her feet and waited while they collected themselves.

“I think we’re all tired,” Jenna said. “It might make sense if we slept. I don’t know if I’ll be able to, but I might try.”

“I am tired,” Natalie said. “I haven’t been sleeping much.”

“Did Detective Poole explain everything to you?” Jenna asked.

“She did,” Natalie said. “It’s about what I expected.”

“You can stay here as long—until—”

“Until they take me away,” Natalie said. “I appreciate that. Thanks.”

“You’re safe here,” Jenna said. “Detective Poole is going to sit right in the living room, and there are extra patrols in the neighborhood.”

“Good,” Jared said.

Jenna looked at the two of them. They looked perfect together. Battered and torn but perfect. She’d do anything for either one of them.

“I’m going to my room,” she said. “I’m sure you guys can—well, there’s a futon in the spare room, Natalie, but . . . whatever.”

She turned and went to bed.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

T
he morning sun leaked through the blinds.

Jared came awake, blinking his eyes against the light.

He held Natalie’s body tight against his own, her breathing soft and even. Their clothes lay in a pile on the floor, and Jared realized he still wore the limp, wet condom. He made a mental note to thank Mike for giving him a couple when he first started spending time with Natalie along with the advice “Better safe than sorry.” Jared never dreamed he’d actually get to use them.

He stared at the ceiling. Natalie had shown him the way, guiding him through everything with patience and understanding. Once they started, Jared understood that certain instincts just took over. People had been performing the act for . . . however long there’d been people. He felt a momentary ease, lying there in the bed, a sense of amazement unlike anything else he’d ever experienced.

Natalie snuggled closer. Her eyes came open as she rubbed her hand over his pale, bony chest. Very little hair, and even fewer muscles. He knew he didn’t look like anyone on TV or in the movies, and it didn’t matter.

“Are you okay?” Natalie asked. “Go back to sleep.”

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Mmmm.”

He couldn’t tell if she was still awake. “You know, I’ll see you wherever you are. I promise.”

“I know.”

“I can travel at school breaks and stuff.”

“Sure.”

“Hey,” Jared said. “I have something for you.”

He went over to his desk, trying not to feel self-conscious of his bare butt, and opened the top drawer. He came back to bed and handed a photograph to Natalie.

“I found that in the house when I went in looking for you,” he said. “I thought you’d want it.”

Natalie held the photo, her eyes filling with tears. She lifted her hand to her mouth and just stared at the image of her mother. Then she leaned over and threw her arms around Jared’s neck, pulling him tight.

“That’s the sweetest thing,” she said. “This is my favorite picture of her.”

She held on to him. And he let himself be held. The sex had felt better than he could have imagined. And so did the tight embrace.

“She looks just like you,” he said.

“Everybody says that.”

They held each other for a while. When they let go, Natalie kept glancing at the photo, the tears wiped from her face.

Jared finally asked the question that had been on his mind. “Do you think my mom heard us?” he asked.

“No. And I don’t think she’d care. She practically let us sleep together.”

“That’s true.”

Jared tried not to think too much about his mom while he lay in
bed with his naked girlfriend just after losing his virginity, but thoughts of her came through again. He knew she wouldn’t have turned a blind eye to them sleeping together under just any circumstances. But she understood the world, she understood how difficult things had been for Natalie. Given what had happened to Celia, his mom probably understood better than just about anybody alive.

Life is short. Time is short. You never know.

“What about Detective Poole?” Jared asked. “She’s a cop. She hears everything.”

“She probably ignored it.” Natalie looked at the clock. “My escorts from the foster system haven’t shown up yet. Maybe they believe in young love too. It is almost Valentine’s Day.”

“How romantic,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

He took care of the condom and then pulled on shorts and a T-shirt. Natalie tugged the covers higher up on her body and said, “Don’t be gone long.”

“Do you want me to stay?” he asked.

“I want you to pee if you have to. But do it quickly. I’m not crazy about being alone.”

Jared bent down and kissed her on the forehead. He eased the door open and stepped softly toward the end of the hall. He stuck his head around the doorframe. Detective Poole sat in a chair, reading a magazine. She looked up.

“Hey, tiger,” she said.

“Hey.”

“Can’t sleep?” she asked.

“Bathroom trip.”

The detective nodded, a small smile on her face. “I understand.” She looked at her watch. “The child welfare folks are backed up. You probably have another hour together.”

“Thanks. You look tired.”

“I’m no spring chicken. But I can sit a watch with the best of them. Even now.” She tossed the magazine aside. “Go on. Time’s wasting.”

“Thanks.” Before he went in the bathroom, he moved over toward his mom’s closed bedroom door, pressing his ear against it. He didn’t hear anything. Satisfied, he went back to the bathroom and stepped in.

While he peed, he tried to maintain the sense of euphoria the sex brought on but found it slipping away. True—Natalie was safe. That was the only thing that mattered. She was safe and away from her father. Even in foster care or whatever system they’d place her in, she’d be safer there than out on the road with a maniac. But she’d be going anytime, maybe forever. He felt the hole in his heart growing and spreading like a crater.

He flushed and then washed his hands. He paused for a moment before the mirror and studied himself. His hair stood up and his eyes looked puffy and tired. Other than that, no real differences. Would people at school see he’d lost his virginity? Would Mike and Syd know when he sat down at the lunch table on Monday morning? If they didn’t, he would tell them. Maybe not right away, but eventually he’d tell them.

He reached for the knob. He heard a noise in the hallway. He pulled the door open, the adrenaline shooting through his body like ice water. He stood in the hallway listening, and then moved back to his bedroom. The door was shut. He could have sworn he’d left it cracked when he went to the bathroom. He pushed in. The bed was empty, the clothes gone from the floor.