Vanished (26 page)

Had he sent Noreen out here to shoot her? To make her an accomplice in all he’d done, secure her loyalty even more?

Did he plan to observe while Noreen killed her, eighteen years after he’d planned to do it himself?

Fury rushed through her, warming her chilled skin. Evelyn blinked, squinting at Noreen, trying to see her better, to gauge her reaction to what she was about to say. “Are you really going to let your uncle destroy your life the way he destroyed all those little girls’ lives?”

The stoicism in Noreen’s face cracked, and the Glock trembled, the flashlight drawing a crooked circle around Evelyn’s face.

Hoping she was on the right track, Evelyn pressed on. “You can’t keep covering for him, protecting him. It’s going to come out. All you can do now is pick which side you end up on. And there’s only one good choice, Noreen. You know that.”

Noreen’s lip trembled, and Evelyn hurried to add, “Everyone at the Rose Bay PD cares about you like family. They took you in, gave you a place where you belong.”

Noreen frowned, and opened her mouth as if she were about to argue.

Evelyn cut her off. “I understand. I understand what it’s like to grow up without much family. I understand what it’s like to have to turn on family, Noreen. And I understand what it’s like to choose new family, to choose it in a group of law enforcement officers. You did that, Noreen, just like me. You belong there.”

“Not anymore,” Noreen whispered, her voice timid and almost childlike.

“Yes, you do,” Evelyn insisted. “You need to make a choi—”

“No!” Noreen snapped. “Take out your handcuffs, Evelyn, and cuff yourself.”

Evelyn shifted her feet, nervous energy burning through her. She’d been handcuffed by someone who meant her harm once before. Everything in her rebelled against the idea of letting it happen again.

But the fact that Noreen wanted her cuffed gave her hope. Why cuff her if Noreen planned to kill her?

“Now!” Noreen took a fast step closer, lining the weapon up against Evelyn’s forehead. “Don’t make me ask you again.”

The way she said the words was awkward. And ominous. As though they’d been said to her and she was just repeating them.

Was part of Noreen’s determination to protect her uncle because he’d physically or mentally abused her as a child? Her father had gotten sick around the time Cassie had gone missing, which would have made Noreen six years old. Frank had lived with them until Noreen was eighteen. That was a long time for Frank to work on making Noreen dependent on him, through love, loyalty and fear.

Evelyn pulled out her handcuffs. She told herself not to do it, that Noreen could be immobilizing her for Frank to come and finish what he’d started eighteen years ago.

But if her choices were to have Noreen shoot her now or to put the handcuffs on and live a little longer—long enough to get out of this—there was really no choice.

She snapped the cuffs on first one wrist, then got them around the other, closing them as loosely as possible. She still couldn’t get free, but every bit of maneuverability could help.

“Good,” Noreen said, relaxing a fraction, lowering the Glock slightly. “Now, open it.”

She aimed the flashlight at the ground to the left of Evelyn. Panic fluttered up again. Beside her, flush with the ground, a shiny new wooden board was latched down. Another cellar.

Evelyn lifted her gaze back to Noreen. She tried to keep her face blank, but she didn’t need to see Noreen’s reaction to know she’d failed.

Was this where Mandy had been kept? What about the other girls? Had they always been in the other cellar or had any of them been here? Had Cassie been here?

Pain burst in her chest, powerful and unexpected. How long had Cassie been locked in one of these cellars?

Had she spent a few days in terror, like Brittany, before her life had been cruelly, unfairly snuffed out? Or had she been trapped under the ground for years, wondering why no one had come for her?

Had Frank visited her every day? Had he hurt her? Or had he left her alone for days at a time, locked in the darkness, not knowing if she was slowly going to starve to death or if he’d come and keep her alive a little longer?

God, which was worse? Having the pain end fast, or living in hope for too many years, until it was finally taken away? And when that day came, would she have welcomed death?

Evelyn didn’t realize she was crying until the tears splashed her cuffed hands.

“You’re thinking about Cassie,” Noreen said softly, sadly.

Evelyn lifted her head, and she swiped at her tears with cuffed hands. “Your uncle killed her! He killed my best friend!” Evelyn raised her hands, toward the cellar door, and Noreen’s gun snapped up at the fast movement. “After locking her down there, in the dark! How can you protect him? How could you do that?”

Noreen shook her head. “It wasn’t like that. She was supposed to be happy. They were all supposed to be happy.”

She sounded so earnest. How long had Frank been brainwashing her with this?

Evelyn had assumed she’d only found out after Brittany died and he’d taken Lauren. But maybe she’d learned much earlier. It seemed unlikely she’d have any clue about what her uncle had been doing before he lived with them, when she was just in kindergarten.

But afterward? Maybe he’d told her a few years after he’d moved in, after she’d learned to depend on him. Then his presence was probably the one thing keeping her home with her father. If Frank had decided to leave, what would have happened to Noreen? Her mother hadn’t shown any interest obviously. The relationship with Frank was a powerful bond based on need, and cultivated when she was at an extremely impressionable point in her life.

If that was the case, did Evelyn have any chance of breaking that twisted bond?

Noreen shook her head, as if she could read Evelyn’s thoughts. “You don’t believe me. But it was only...” She shrugged. “You won’t understand.”

She pointed the gun at the cellar again, and her voice shifted from the almost childlike plaintive tone it had taken on to a hard, cold demand. “Open it.” She pointed the gun at Evelyn again, staying too far away for Evelyn to even consider rushing her. “Do it now.”

Evelyn’s wet clothes abraded her skin as she leaned down and unlatched the cellar door, pulling hard to open it. There was a metal ladder leading down, just like the last cellar. But this ladder didn’t go down as far, and the installation looked sloppier, less sturdy.

It was too dark down in the ground to see anything, but the second she opened the door, a rush of unease prickled Evelyn’s skin. Someone was down there. She would’ve bet her badge on it.

Frank? A new victim?

“Start climbing,” Noreen said when she got up again.

“Noreen...”

“Now! Get down there now!” Noreen screeched.

If Frank hadn’t owned so much land, if there’d been neighbors anywhere near, they would have heard. But the house next to Frank’s on the one side was too far, and on the other side, Evelyn remembered seeing foreclosure signs.

“Noreen,” she tried again.

Noreen’s whole face hardened, her eyes going flat as she leveled the gun on Evelyn, this time center mass.

Sucking in a breath and praying it wasn’t the last one she’d take aboveground, Evelyn grabbed the ladder with her cuffed hands. It was awkward to swing herself down, but she made it, then carefully lowered herself into the cellar. It was tiny, the ceiling so low that if she moved into the main part of the cellar, away from the space taken by the ladder, she’d have to bend down.

Standing on the dirt ground, she blinked, trying to adjust her eyes. It had been dark outside, but here the darkness seemed so much more complete.

Then, in the corner, she sensed something. Someone.

Evelyn squinted, moving a little closer, but not wanting to get too close.

When she realized who it was, she gasped. It was Jack.

He was curled up in the corner, his hands awkwardly in front of him, probably cuffed, as well. He was bleeding from the head and unconscious. At least she hoped he was unconscious and not dead.

She began to move toward him to check his pulse, but something made her turn back and look up at Noreen. Outside, Noreen stood above the cellar, her weapon pointed down, the flashlight shining in Evelyn’s eyes.

But then she shifted, and the little bit of light started to disappear. She was closing the door, Evelyn knew, and panic burst out.

“Noreen, please! Noreen, I can help you! Please don’t do this!”

The door stopped moving and Evelyn felt a moment’s relief, but a moment later the flashlight lit up Noreen’s face. On it, Evelyn saw determination, commitment and a hint of sadness.

A slow smile crept across Noreen’s face and the door slammed down, plunging Evelyn into total darkness.

Twenty-Five

“W
ait!” Evelyn screamed as loudly as she could, not even sure if Noreen would be able to hear her above the ground.

Bits of dirt rained down on her head when the door was slammed, indicating that the cellar wasn’t as stable as it should have been. There was plenty of air, but Evelyn’s lungs tightened, as though she was in danger of suffocating. The smell of dirt filled her nostrils, along with the tangy, metallic scent of blood. Panic threatened as she imagined being trapped down here.

Would Noreen and Frank cover the door with dirt, leave her and Jack down here to starve? And that was assuming Jack was still alive.

Would her grandma wonder what had happened to her? Just like Cassie’s parents had been left to wonder when she’d vanished one night, never to return?

Evelyn choked on a breath that sounded like a sob, then closed her eyes and told herself to calm down.

Screaming at Noreen to open up, Evelyn fumbled to shove her hand in her pocket. Noreen hadn’t taken her cuff key. Carefully, Evelyn pulled the key out and shifted it in the palm of her hand until it faced the proper way.

Awkwardly, she fit the key into the lock by feel. The cuff on her right hand clicked open.

Evelyn left the key in the lock. Not bothering to unhook the other cuff, she debated. Check on Jack or try to call Noreen back?

Evelyn made her decision fast. If Noreen intended to leave them down here and never come back, there wouldn’t be anything she could do for either of them.

Rushing forward, she grabbed the ladder, yanking herself up. It was only a step until she could pound on the wooden door above her head. She banged her fists against it over and over, leaning on the ladder to maintain her balance.

Hitting the wood until splinters wedged under her skin and her hands felt swollen and raw, Evelyn screamed, “Noreen! This isn’t the legacy your sister would have wanted!”

The door swung back so fast and so unexpectedly that Evelyn slipped. She tried to grab the ladder and steady herself, but missed, and fell backward. The tunnel up to the door was narrow, so her head hit the dirt wall behind her. Then she fell straight down to the ground, her legs buckling.

The flashlight bounced over her face, blinding her, and Evelyn squinted. The light continued to dance over her face, in her eyes, and she realized Noreen was descending into the cellar.

Evelyn stayed on the ground, finding her balance, ready to spring upward at Noreen as soon as she had the chance. Hope and fear mingled as Noreen came closer.

The light changed and Evelyn saw the gun pointed at her again, but Noreen was closer this time. There wasn’t much room in this part of the cellar. Not much room for Noreen to keep a safe distance. Not much room for Evelyn to maneuver, either.

She stayed low, waiting for an opening, and did what she did best. She tried to profile Noreen, so she could talk her into making an error.

Noreen had, in fact, made a mistake by moving so close. If Evelyn could get within arm’s reach of Noreen, she could disarm her. She just had to time it exactly right, because at this distance, if Noreen got a shot off, there was no way she’d miss.

Adrenaline rocketed through Evelyn’s veins. She kept her hands close together, hoping Noreen wouldn’t notice they were no longer cuffed. Blinking rapidly, she tried to adjust her eyes, to see past the light shining on her and bathing Noreen in darkness.

“My sister was killed by my mom’s neglect,” Noreen said, her voice quavering with emotion.

Evelyn didn’t have to see her to know there were tears running down Noreen’s face. She had to tread carefully here. She kept her voice soft and steady as she said, “Your uncle killed girls, too, Noreen. Girls your sister’s age. Some of them left behind siblings, too. Siblings who miss them. Friends who miss them, even now.”

The flashlight shook in Noreen’s hand, and Evelyn could finally see her face. She was crying. Slow, silent tears that tracked down a face already drenched from the rain. There was sadness in her eyes, but something else, too. Something that made warning bells jingle in Evelyn’s head. Something that looked a little too much like madness.

How had she missed this all those times she’d talked to Noreen at the station? And when Noreen had called her?

Noreen had called her from the search parties. Noreen had been the one to put her on to Darnell. And Darnell had said he’d received a text sending him to the field where Lauren was found.

“It was you who texted Darnell, wasn’t it?” It made sense; Noreen worked with police officers. She’d probably known how to play it, and there was already a naive, almost childish quality about her. Evelyn could see her convincing Darnell she was a twelve-year-old, foolish enough to meet a stranger in a deserted area.

“You texted him just before you called me. You wanted Lauren to be found.” Hope shot forward again, the hope that Noreen really did want a way out of this. “You were trying to prevent the same thing from happening to Lauren that happened to Brittany. You were trying to save her, weren’t you, Noreen?”

Noreen shuffled her feet, her shoulders stooped, her gaze dropping. “She wasn’t right. But I didn’t want her to have to die.”

Evelyn tried to keep all reaction off her face, as if she’d known that from the moment she’d come to Frank’s house to talk to Noreen.

As Noreen frowned at the ground, Evelyn moved a fraction. She angled slowly, carefully, into a better position to use her calf muscles to push herself up and out at Noreen like a sprinter taking off for a big race. She just needed to keep Noreen talking, get her to move the gun off to the side a little more in the tight space.

“You did a good thing, Noreen,” Evelyn said, still in the same soft, reassuring tone. “You saved that little girl’s life.”

Noreen’s gaze drifted past her, into the darkness of the cellar. Her body language seemed to change as she collapsed into herself, her chin lowering submissively. Her voice seemed to change, too, into something higher-pitched and childish as she said, “They always went away. He always made them go away.”

Evelyn’s heartbeat seemed to slow to a stop, then continued at double speed.
Always?
Had she seen the girls Frank had abducted, back when she was six years old?

What a horrible thing for a child to witness, she thought sadly. Had she even known what was going on back then? Maybe her father had actually been sick earlier than anyone had realized. Maybe Frank had been involved sooner than anyone had known.

Had Noreen been in the cellar eighteen years ago? A wrenching pain joined the sadness. Had she met Cassie down in a cellar?

The pain spread, immobilizing her. Had she seen Cassie die?

She needed to keep talking, to keep Noreen talking, but Evelyn’s mouth felt glued shut as memories of Cassie filled her mind. Then the images fled and all she could see was a small, bare skeleton in a box in the ground.

Evelyn gagged, losing her equilibrium. She braced one hand on the ground and then looked up at Noreen.

Her distraction had cost her. Noreen seemed confused, but she’d squared the gun on Evelyn again.

Then Noreen’s chin jutted out and her gaze focused on Evelyn’s hand. Her uncuffed hand.

Noreen lifted an eyebrow. “I forgot to take your handcuff key.” Noreen nodded to herself, as though she were making a mental note for the future—in case she needed to abduct some other law enforcement officer.

“He never should’ve taken them away.” Evelyn forced out the words, her voice strangled as she tried to get Noreen to focus elsewhere. With the gun pointed at her, if Noreen told her to recuff herself and toss over the key, she’d have to do it.

But her plan seemed to work, because sadness overtook Noreen’s face again at her words.

“They were supposed to be my new sister,” Noreen said. “Each one he brought, he told me she’d be my big sister now that Peggy was gone.” She shook her head, her hair dancing around her shoulders, her soggy clothes making her look smaller and younger than her twenty-four years.

This girl had never had a chance.

The thought went through Evelyn’s head, but she ruthlessly pushed it out. Eighteen years ago, Noreen might not have had a choice, but she did now. She could have turned in her uncle as soon as he started abducting children again. She could have refused to help him.

“Your uncle was wrong—”

“No, not Uncle Frank.”

“What?”

“It was my father. It was my father who brought them to me.”

* * *

She wasn’t here.

Kyle idled at the edge of the field where they’d found the cellar. His headlights cut a path through the tall grass, mingling with the large portable lights the police had left up at the crime scene. The yellow crime scene tape fluttered in the wind, and fog lifted off the ground.

This was the last place he’d seen Evelyn’s car, when he’d been flying over this road. But it wasn’t at the crime scene.

He’d swung by Jack’s house on his way over, just in case Evelyn was there and needed backup, but he’d only found Jack’s wife, angry and uncooperative.

Where the hell was Evelyn?

The worry over her emotional well-being changed to a deeper concern. Was she in danger?

Kyle swung his car around, heading back the way he’d come, down the long, winding dirt road. The house closest to Jack’s father’s property had boarded-up windows and a for sale by bank sign in the front yard. The house one door down looked familiar.

Kyle slowed to a stop, trying to figure out why. Then he recognized it. He’d seen it in a picture at the police station. Greg had flipped past the picture, saying officers had walked through the house and barn on his and Evelyn’s recommendation. Frank Abbott’s house.

They’d let Frank go, but hadn’t one hundred percent ruled him out.

He’d seemed gruff but otherwise normal when Kyle had met him the first day he’d helped with the search parties. But the very fact that he’d been at those search parties could be a sign of guilt.

Had Evelyn reconsidered his status as a suspect while she was out here?

Kyle turned into the drive, coasting slowly toward the house. The porch lights were out and the house was dark. An old beater vehicle sat at the top of the drive.

He sighed and put the car in reverse when he noticed the tire tracks in the mud skirting around the beater toward the barn. It was probably nothing, but his investigative instincts were humming just enough to make him put the car in Park and get out.

Everything was dark and silent, but Kyle pulled out his flashlight and headed for the house. He walked up the long drive and knocked on the door, but there was no answer.

With one last pounding for good measure, Kyle turned back the way he’d come. He’d go take a peek in the barn. If he saw nothing, he’d call Greg and the Rose Bay PD for backup.

* * *

Evelyn stared stupidly at Noreen. “Your father? But he’s dead.” Wasn’t he?

“He was alive eighteen years ago,” Noreen said, squaring her shoulders, looking more like the young woman Evelyn was used to seeing at the police station.

She was taller than Evelyn, and standing in the opening of the cellar, her head was only a few inches below the open door. She was also bigger than Evelyn, and there wasn’t a lot of room in the tunnel area.

It meant Evelyn was close. Just not close enough.

“My mom let Peggy die,” Noreen insisted. “She took Peggy away from my dad and then let her die. He said thank goodness he’d gotten to at least keep me safe.” A fierceness entered her tone when she added, “And he said he wasn’t going to let other parents do that to their kids.”

The space beside the ladder was cramped, and Evelyn was hunched partially underneath, where the ceiling lowered. Behind her, she sensed Jack, but he wasn’t making a sound. He might already be dead.

“Noreen, you know that wasn’t his only motivation,” Evelyn said, trying to shift her weight into position to strike.

Noreen steadied her gun, stepping back against the ladder, which made a chunk of dirt break off the wall and fall at her feet. “Don’t do it, Evelyn.”

“My feet fell asleep.” It was partially true.

“Too bad,” Noreen said nervously as she tightened her hold on the gun.

Evelyn went still, her legs bunched awkwardly underneath her. “Your father was looking for a replacement back then. And now your uncle is doing the same thing.”

Was he, though? Or did Frank have a different motive? She and Greg had been hesitant to name Frank as a suspect, since he hadn’t grown up with Noreen’s sister. But maybe Frank was after something different than his brother, just using the same methods because Earl had never been caught.

She’d dismissed the copycat theory so completely and she cursed herself for it now. And yet everything about the crimes had been so similar, down to the notes written on the very same paper. “Did your uncle help with the original abductions?”

She’d been so sure there was only one person orchestrating the abductions, but it would explain how Frank was doing everything so similarly now.

Noreen shook her head and answered, almost conversationally, “Uncle Frank didn’t know anything about them. Eighteen years ago, he spent almost every day with my dad. They even had a business together. Hell, my dad used the work van for the abductions and Frank didn’t have a clue.”

“After all that time, what made him decide to pick up where your dad left off?”

Doubt whirled through her as she asked the question. How was she going to talk Noreen into letting her go if she’d been so far off in her profile? If she hadn’t figured out Frank’s true motivation?

And how had she been so wrong? Going over the behavioral evidence in her head, it still didn’t quite stack up. Was Noreen lying to her? Blaming a dead man instead of admitting her uncle had been the killer all along?

But how could Noreen possibly think that would help her? Even if she hadn’t decided to lock Evelyn underground to keep her silent, Earl Abbott was dead. If Noreen was telling the truth about her father—and Evelyn suspected she was—that still left Frank on the hook for the recent abductions.

“Uncle Frank is an idiot,” Noreen spat.