Without a Trace

Would I ever be able to forget that day? And most importantly, would my colleagues and the residents of Northfolk…?

Sergeant DelGrande’s instructions circled back through my mind. He’d asked me to go directly to 8418 Sycamore Street, where a woman had called in, claiming that her ex-husband had stolen her child right out of bed. It sounded like a domestic disturbance, but I wasn’t familiar with the address. It was near the old Appleton farm, but no one lived out there besides the Appletons, as far as I knew.

As I pulled down the gravel drive to the property, I was instantly met by a running woman. Thick black hair swept across her face, a silky pink robe blowing back like a cape in the wind. I closed my eyes, fighting back images of Mandy Clark opening the door that day…if I let myself think about it long enough, I could still remember the smoky smell of Officer Clark’s flesh as I pulled the trigger…

The events of that day were still such a blur. One minute, I was sliding the cuffs on his wrists, and the next, it was me being slammed against the hood of my cruiser. You think you’re tough, don’t you? You don’t know shit, rookie. He let me go, but then he did the unthinkable: he reached for my gun. Afterwards, my fellow officers would claim that Ezra was probably just teasing, trying to show me I was ill-prepared as a new cop…but he was wrong about that. When he reached so did I…and moments later, one of us was lying dead on the ground…

Cautiously, I parked and emerged from my patrol car. While most of my male colleagues would have itched their fingers over their guns at the sight of a hysterical person, my instinct was to go to her, to calm her down. She was clearly distraught, her cheeks streaked with tears, her skin blotchy. I couldn’t shake off images of Mandy Clark’s distraught face, her battered skin stretched over her face like a ghoulish mask…

“Sh-she’s gone,” the robed woman choked out the words, all the while fighting with the hair around her face. “M-my Lily’s gone.”

The wind howled, blistery cold for September, causing me to stumble a bit with the heavy belt weighing down my mid-section. I shook off my whirling thoughts about that day with Ezra Clark and tried to focus. “Ma’am, let’s go inside and talk. Would that be okay?”

She hesitated, giving me the once over as though I were a stranger asking to use her phone. Her eyes were wild, shell-shocked. Maybe she knows who I am. Maybe she knows I shot a colleague, I thought. But that’s ridiculous, I chastised myself, immediately. This woman was new to Northfolk; she couldn’t possibly know about the Clark incident.

“I’m here to help. You called us,” I gently reminded her.

Shakily, she led the way inside. The cabin was sparsely furnished, a small arm chair and rug in the center of the living room. Everything looked worn but clean, and not recently used.

There was no TV, no pictures or personal effects.

“How long have you lived here?” Awkwardly, I tried to adjust my belt, then took out a notebook and pen from my back pocket. The pages were blank, which for some reason, made me feel embarrassed.

“I just moved in yesterday. Me and my daughter, Lily. She’s f-four.”

“And your name?”

“Nova Nesbitt.” The words were like whispers, strained.

“And your ex-husband, how long have you two been divorced?”

Nova shifted from foot to foot, chewing on a stray piece of hair and looking around the room with those wide, wild eyes. “Well, we’re not. I mean, I-I only just left him y-yesterday.”

I clicked the bottom of my pen, open and closed. It was a nervous habit.

“Does he live in Northfolk, too?”

“No. He’s b-back in G-Granton, Tennessee. I can g-give you the address though.”

After I scribbled his name, address, and phone number down, I closed my pad. “Ma’am, if you’re not legally divorced and you both share custody of the girl, then it’s not a crime for her to be with her father.”

Nova was pacing now, her skimpy undergarments exposed as the robe shifted back and forth across her thighs. She was a tall woman, but painfully thin. I thought about that expression, the one about a stiff breath of wind blowing someone away.

She stopped moving, her face twisting with desperation as her eyes searched mine. “L-listen, you d-don’t understand. He was abusive. He is abusive. That’s w-why we left. I d-don’t know how he knew we w-were here…he must have followed me! And w-while I was asleep, that bastard t-took my daughter. She’s in d-danger. You have to b-believe me. Her life depends on it! He will hurt her to get to me, m-mark my w-words.” It was painful watching her mouth twist and struggle to form the words.

“Do you have a restraining order against him?” Part of me was secretly glad he wasn’t here. The thought of getting directly involved in another domestic dispute made me more uneasy than I’d like to admit.

Even though she was looking right at me, it seemed like Nova was seeing straight through me now. Her eyes turned smoggy and lost.

She mashed her hands down on her hips, and muttering under her breath, she said something about a piece of paper being unable to keep someone safe.

I could see her point but having a legal document that prevented her husband from taking the girl would have made my job much easier.

“Have you tried calling him?” I asked, unsure what my next move should be here. I had been so confident when I’d started this job—maybe too confident—but lately, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was like a little kid playing dress-up in my cop’s uniform. After the incident with Ezra Clark, none of my colleagues trusted me or wanted to work with me…and lately, I’d found that I was struggling to trust myself…

Domestic situations were always tricky, and sometimes the parents used their kids as pawns, or weapons, to hurt each other. Was that what was going on here?

Nova shook her head. “I-I haven’t c-called him.” She reached for the arm of the sofa, stumbling to catch herself from collapsing to the floor below.

I kept my eyes on her as I flipped through a couple blank pages in my notebook. Still gripping the couch arm for dear life, she closed her eyes. She was muttering under her breath, counting, I think…

I was close enough to smell her breath and I noticed it was hot and stale. But I caught a whiff of something else, too. Alcohol crossed my mind, but this smelled more minty, possibly like mouthwash. Did she wash out her mouth with mouthwash before I came?

That didn’t seem like something a distraught woman would do, I thought. But looking at Nova Nesbitt, there was no question in my mind: this woman was freaking out. She seemed scared. Skittish.

Scanning her face again, I looked for signs of drug use. Although heroin was the main drug of choice in these parts, I’d been around a lot of meth users, too.

She was acting strange, but her pupils were normal-sized. She didn’t appear to be on drugs, but then again, it wasn’t always easy to tell.

“He’s d-dangerous,” she repeated, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Very dangerous.”

“Can I see where Lily was sleeping?”

Without answering, Nova drifted down a shadowy hallway, dragging her robe along like a bridal train. Cautiously, I followed behind, looking for anything out of order. We passed a master bedroom and bathroom. Both looked empty and pristine.

When we entered the child’s room, I immediately noted that it was neat but bare, like the rest of the house. There was only a twin-sized bed and dresser in the room. The bed unmade, there was a creamy blue blanket folded neatly at the foot of it.

“Found this.” Nova held up a strange, stuffed toy. I took it, turning it over and back in my hands. It was odd, unlike any sort of stuffed animal I’d played with as a girl. A rabbit, and a downright ugly one at that, with eerie button eyes and worn out brown fur. It had plastic black claws on its hands and feet and two jagged white teeth protruded from the bunny’s mouth. There were a few pieces of gray string protruding from its head. It almost looked…cruel.

“Is this your daughter’s toy?” I set the creepy rabbit back down.

Nova was pacing beside the child’s bed. She stopped and threw up her hands in disgust. “No! Why aren’t you listening? I found it! My husband…he calls Lily his ‘little bunny’. I think he left this here to taunt me. He’s dangerous! Please, you have to take me seriously!” In Nova’s angry outburst, the stutter had all but disappeared.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I stared at the forlorn toy. Little Bunny. What a creepy thing to leave behind if he was the one who took her, I thought. Suddenly, this seemed less like a custody dispute, and more like a kidnapping…but the last time I got involved in a domestic squabble, a man had ended up dead. And my nickname by my colleagues—“Cop Killer”—ensued.

“I’m going to take a look around the rest of the house. That okay?”

“Yes! That’s why I called you, isn’t it?” Nova huffed. She walked out of the room, mumbling to herself again.

As I walked around the side of the bed, looking more closely at the room, I couldn’t help but be reminded of playing hide and seek with my cousins and friends when I was a kid. Could Lily be hiding somewhere?

It was possible that the husband took her, but I hadn’t seen any signs of struggle or forced entry. How did he sneak the girl out?

The window behind the bed was locked tight. I peeked beneath the bed. The wood floors were clean, no dust or debris underneath. Next, I checked out the closet and drawers. I was surprised to find them full. A neat row of children’s clothes hung from the rack. Removing a pale-yellow dress, I was surprised to find it still had tags attached. I sifted through the other outfits too—everything looked brand new.

“Ms. Nesbitt?” When I stuck my head out of the bedroom, I was surprised to find her standing right there in the hall. As we came nose to nose, I jumped and made an embarrassing squeaking sound.

“F-find anything?” She gnawed on her nails, shifting from foot to foot, reminding me of a toddler waiting to pee.

“Did you buy new clothes for Lily?”

“Oh. Yes,” Nova said, nodding. “We d-didn’t have time to pack m-much.”

I nodded, then resumed searching. The first two drawers were full of underwear and socks and the bottom drawer contained books and toys. Again, all looked brand new. Some were even wrapped in their packaging still.

Something about this whole thing felt off. I could understand having to buy new things when moving, but new everything? It seemed highly unusual.

Next, I walked through all the other rooms, checking for broken or unlocked windows. I opened closets and looked beneath the few furnishings inside the house.

A new thought was shifting around in my mind. “Lily wouldn’t wander outside on her own, would she? New house, new place. Maybe she went off to explore?” Images of dead, floating kids in ponds fluttered through my brain. And miniature, mangled bodies by the side of the road, the bent-back limbs protruding…

I’d never seen any of those things in real life, but I’d seen plenty of ghastly images while studying at the academy. Some of the men in my class liked to “shock” me with them, sticking them in my locker and desk drawers during training. I was one of only two women in my class, and behind our backs, they liked to call us “the pretty one” and “the ugly one”. I think I would have preferred the latter.

“No, she wouldn’t. I s-sat on her bed, r-reading to her until she fell asleep. And I ch-checked on her a few times before I w-went to bed last night. I was w-worried. I looked around outside b-before I called, but I-I know h-he took her…”

“How do you think your ex got in the house, if he didn’t have a key?” We were standing in the kitchen now. I stared at the child’s suitcase on the floor. It was decorated with smiley red cars, the one from that Pixar movie but I couldn’t remember the name of it. Not having a child myself, I suddenly felt unsure how to help this woman. My mother would know what to do and where to look, I thought. Instantly, I pushed that thought aside, feeling childish and incompetent.

What I should do is call one of the officers back at the station, but they all hated my guts and didn’t trust me…

I stared at the suitcase on the floor. Nova had time to hang up new clothes, but didn’t unload the suitcase, I noted. It was one more minor detail that made me think something was off…

Nova chewed on her bottom lip and it looked like she was fighting back tears. “I don’t know. Maybe M-Martin picked the lock. He c-can be pretty clever when he w-wants to be.”

“Do me a favor. Call him now, and I’ll go take a look outside. Okay?”

Nova gave me a nervous nod, then opened one of the kitchen drawers. She took out a cheap flip phone and started dialing.

“He w-won’t recognize this number. I left my cell behind when we m-moved. This was just a pr-prepaid ph-phone I p-picked up,” she explained, pressing the phone to her ear.

Even though I’d said I was going outside to check, I stood still, watching her place the call. Please let the husband pick up the phone and say he has the girl, I hoped.

What if someone from Northfolk took this child? That thought made me queasy. The last thing I needed was another run-in with a bad dude in Northfolk. But if someone from here did this…then I had to do something to help this woman and her child.

Internally, I quivered at the thought. Why couldn’t some other officer have taken this call? I wondered, exasperated.

“P-prick!” Nova snapped the phone back shut.

“You didn’t leave a message,” I pointed out.

“He never ch-checks his m-messages,” Nova explained, placing the phone on the kitchen counter.

I took my own cell out, dialing the number I’d written down in my notebook. After three rings, the phone went to an automated voicemail box.

“Martin Nesbitt, this is Officer Ellie James with the Northfolk police department. I need to speak with you right away. It’s urgent. Call me back at this number, please.”

I started for the front door, eager to check outside, but then I stopped in the entranceway. I stared down at a pair of women’s running shoes. They were muddy. “Your daughter’s shoes. Where are they?”

Nova’s eyes widened as her gaze followed mine. “Sh-she h-had sparkly orange sn-sneakers on when we got h-here yesterday.” Her eyes went fuzzy, her lips curling with anger. “If she put her shoes on, then she must have gone with him w-willingly! But w-why would she do that?”

“Ma’am, I’m not sure. Hopefully, your husband will call back soon and clear this whole thing up. But for now, I’m going to check outside and then contact my sergeant about your daughter. Can you get some pictures together for me? If we issue an Amber Alert, I’ll need the most up-to-date photo you got…”

But Nova was shaking her head back and forth, her skin turning paler by the minute. “I don’t have one. N-not even one ph-photo…” she breathed.

“I know you guys just moved here, but how about a pic on your cell phone?”

But Nova kept shaking her head. “I can’t believe it. I d-don’t even have one picture of my little girl. How insane is th-that?” She looked spacey now, and once again, I wondered if she might be using drugs.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. We’ll get one. Maybe from a family member, or friend? Or if you could just pull up one of your albums on Facebook or Instagram…that will work, too.”

“No,” Nova said, firmly, her eyes zeroing in on mine.

“No?”

How could this woman not have any pictures of her own daughter? It seemed completely unfeasible, but if she really was afraid of her husband maybe she did leave everything behind…

“I wasn’t allowed to have a Facebook profile. I-I don’t even know what I-Instagram is, honestly. M-Martin was j-jealous. Controlling. He’s d-dangerous, I told you…”

Yes. He was dangerous. That was about the only thing she’d made clear so far. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else—something she wasn’t telling me.

“Family or friends with pictures…?”

“I don’t really have any family. And any fr-friends I had…w-well, that was w-way before I married M-Martin.”

Surely, she had pictures at her house in Tennessee, I considered. But Tennessee was a day’s drive away, and I needed something now.

“What about pre-school or daycare? Any photos on file they could fax over to my office?”

Nova cleared her throat. “Lily isn’t in pr-preschool yet. M-Martin wanted me to homeschool her. Can you believe that? Homeschool! M-Me! I don’t even b-believe in that crap…” she snapped, looking angry again. Her arms hung loosely at her sides, but she was shaking. As helpless as she seemed, I honestly felt the same.

“Keep trying to call him, okay? And this time leave a message,” I urged, heading out to the front yard.

I walked around the front and back of the property. There was a backdrop of woods behind the house, but the trees were thin and sparse, so it was easy to see through the wooded space. I called out, “Lily!”, but instantly felt silly as my own voice bounced back in my face.

It was eerily quiet out here. And as I walked around the entire house and yard space, I saw no signs of a child. My stomach churned. Something feels so wrong about this…

After going around three times and circling through the woods, I combed the ground in front of the house.

If Lily was hiding, she would surely have come out by now.

No pictures. Only new clothes and toys. It was like a child hadn’t even been here, I thought, spinning around in circles. I closed my eyes and pictured my niece, Chelsea. Her room was like a landmine of toys, my sister’s house a jungle gym of playthings. But Nova’s house was scrubbed clean, not a toy or stray article of clothing in sight.

But she did say they just moved here, I reminded myself.

There was a blue Celica parked at the side of the house, which I assumed belonged to Nova. I peered in through the passenger window. There was no little girl hiding inside.

And no car seat in the vehicle either, I noted. How did she get Lily here without a car seat?

No toys or clutter in the backseat. Nothing. Almost like the child doesn’t even exist, I thought, curiously.

My eyes floated across the field to the Appleton Farm. If I remembered correctly, Clara Appleton owned all this land. She was probably the one renting out the house to Nova.

Maybe the neighbor saw something…anything that could help me find this faceless child…

CHAPTER THREE

The Neighbor

CLARA

Cradling a cup of coffee in my hands, I watched Officer Ellie James through the dining room window as she stood in front of the cabin next door.

I heard Nova Nesbitt scream this morning. But still, I did nothing to help her.

My new tenant had sent me the first month’s rent and a security deposit last month, and she had arrived just yesterday as planned. It was late when she got in, much too late in my opinion, but maybe she got lost or turned around on her drive into town.

I’d been tempted to go over and talk to her, to introduce myself, but I’d refrained. Landlords are known for being nosy. I didn’t want to be like that. But it did feel strange having a neighbor again. With my oldest daughter in Texas, I’d grown accustomed to the quiet and lonesome life on the farm. Knowing that another human being was only a few strides away was a strange, yet welcome, feeling.

Last night, I’d watched the lights in the cabin pop off and on, wondering what Nova was up to. And then this morning, I’d been awake, toasting bread like I did every morning, when the jarring scream had ripped the air.

And now the police are here…

As the owner of the property, I probably should have gone over there and seen if something was wrong. That would have been the normal thing to do. Any sort of terrible thing could have happened related to the house—a fallen fan, a rusty nail…

But the last thing I wanted was contact with the police.

Hot coffee sloshed out the sides of my cup, dribbling between my fingers and down my arm. My mind drifted across the field to the old rickety barn at the back of the property. It used to house cattle and horses, back when Andy was here. But now it was empty. Well, except for one thing…

My hands shook uncontrollably until I lost my grip on the mug completely. It hit the floor with a dull thud just as I saw the young officer crossing the field straight toward my house. I wrung my now empty hands together, trying to steady the tremors.

The milky brown stain at my feet spread out like a halo around the unbroken mug. It reminded me of blood. Dark, thick, unrelenting blood…

Smoothing my favorite flannel shirt, I took a deep breath then went to the front door to meet her. Why does she want to talk to me?

I opened the door before she could knock, forcing a smile as I did. I recognized Officer Ellie James—she was the spitting image of her mother, Barbara. Barb and my late mother, Carol, used to hang around when they were younger. But I doubted that Officer James knew that fact or cared about it.

“How can I help you, officer?” I croaked, then grimaced at my own voice. After a decade of not smoking, I’d recently started up again. And it was obvious from the scratchy tone of my voice. I tried to swallow the lump that was forming in my throat, but it felt like a fishbone was lodged in my windpipe. Probably cancer from the cigarettes already, I lamented.

“You own the cabin next door, is that right, ma’am?”

Surprisingly, Officer James looked more nervous than I felt. She was young, and pretty, too, with a soft, freckled face. But she was wearing too much makeup, in my opinion, the lines of her eyeliner drawn out in a way that reminded me of an Egyptian princess.

“I do,” I said, clearing my throat. “Everything alright over there?”

“When did Nova and Lily move in?” she asked, dodging my question.

“They came in late last night. From Tennessee. Quite a drive, you know? I was asleep. But I heard the car door, and I saw the lights go on over there.”

“Did you see anything else? A child outside? Any other cars on the property?” Officer James held a small notebook in one hand, and with her other hand, she flicked her pen open and closed.

A sudden memory fluttered through my mind, then dissolved.

“Um, yeah, I did. Woke up around one in the morning, I guess it was. A second car was out there. Thought it might be her boyfriend, or someone helping her move. Not my business, you know? But I did think it was a little late for visitors…”

“What sort of make and model was this second car?” Officer James looked alert now, and she started writing something in that notebook of hers.

“I couldn’t say. Too dark. Aren’t any flood lights out there, you know? And the porch light wasn’t on either. I heard the car pull in and the door slamming shut. Never saw a child. I guess it might have been a truck I saw…”

“Did you see anyone get out of this truck? This is important, ma’am.”

I closed my eyes, thinking. “I only looked out there for a second. Didn’t want to look like a peeping tom. I think they were wearing a hood. Like a hoodie sweatshirt. And they were carrying something. Maybe she was carrying her daughter in her arms. Not sure though. Why? Something happened?”

“Your new tenant’s daughter is missing. Please, if you see anything, or think of anything else, call me.” She snapped her notebook shut then dug around for a business card. “Oh, and we may need to come back and search your property. All this land, if it comes down to it. Right now, we’re still waiting to hear from the husband.”

I tried to keep a straight face as I nodded obediently, but my throat felt like it was closing up completely. Despite feeling like I couldn’t breathe, I was itching for a cigarette.