Her Silent Cry

Fifty-Nine

Violet Young lay in a bed in the ICU, her small figure dwarfed by all of the equipment hooked up to her. Josie had a brief moment of dizziness as she entered the room, flashing back to the missing girls’ case and seeing her then-fiancé, Luke Creighton, looking very similar to this—only much, much worse. In a shadowy corner of the room, Violet’s husband sat in a large vinyl chair. He jumped up when Josie and Oaks entered.

“Who are you?” he barked, his hulking frame taking up almost half the room.

Josie made the introductions and immediately, the man’s demeanor relaxed. He shook both their hands. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s just been a rough day. I can’t believe this is happening. I thought Violet was gone forever.” He looked back at his wife, swiping at tears that leaked from his eyes.

“I know this is a terrible time, but we’d like to ask Violet some questions, if you don’t mind,” Josie said.

“Of course,” said her husband. “She was just awake before you came in. Violet? Vi? The police are here. They need to talk to you.”

Josie and Oaks went over to the side of her bed. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she managed a smile. “Hi,” she said, voice scratchy.

“We won’t keep you long,” Josie promised. “We just have a few questions. You were taken from the school, correct?”

Violet nodded. Her husband had taken up guard at the other side of her bed, holding her hand. “I was outside, at afternoon recess. I saw her, saw Lucy.”

“Lucy was with them,” Josie said.

“Yes, in a black car. They drove past the school a couple of times. I thought I was imagining it, but the car went past and came back and there she was—in the backseat, her hands pressed against the window, like she was yelling for help.”

Josie felt a small ache in her heart for poor little Lucy. “You went over to the car.”

“Yes. I know I shouldn’t have. I should have gone inside and called the police, but I thought I would lose her. I just wasn’t thinking clearly. Then I got closer to the car and saw it was a couple. For some reason, I didn’t think…”

“You didn’t think the woman was a threat,” Josie filled in.

Violet nodded. “I’m embarrassed to say, yes.”

“Did they force you into the car?” Oaks asked.

Tears glistened in Violet’s eyes. “Yes. The man pulled out a gun and he told me he’d start firing if I didn’t get in. I didn’t want any children to get hurt so I got in.”

“How was Lucy?” Josie asked.

A tear rolled down Violet’s cheek. “Scared. She clung to me. I tried to comfort her. The man drove. Once we reached a more remote area, he pulled over and he took me out—out of the car. Poor Lucy. She screamed and cried and clung to me. But he was too strong. He took my phone and put me in the trunk.”

“What kind of car?” Oaks asked.

“It was a small black car. Four doors. I don’t know the make or model. I was never good with those things.”

“Then what happened?” Josie asked.

“We drove and drove. Stopped a few times. I could sometimes hear Lucy crying. Once I heard her screaming and then it cut off, and I didn’t hear her after that.” More tears poured from Violet’s eyes. Above the bed, one of the monitors began to beep. Her blood pressure and respirations were climbing.

“It’s okay,” Josie said. “It’s okay. You did everything you could to help Lucy. You’re lucky to be alive. We’re still looking for her and the things you’re telling us are very helpful. Just a few more questions, and we’ll let you rest.”

Violet nodded. She looked to her husband, who squeezed her hand in both of his large hands and smiled at her encouragingly.

“What happened after that?” Josie asked.

“They drove some more. Then they stopped. He got me out of the car and started marching me into the woods. He had a gun to my head. I was too afraid to run, and the woman, she was behind him and she kept yelling. She kept saying, ‘Why did you do that? You shouldn’t have done that.’”

“They were fighting?”

“Yes. She was angry with him for ruining some plan. He kept telling her to shut up. Then he told her to go back to the car. She refused and he hit her. Knocked her down. He told her he was in charge and the plan had changed. Then she got up and left. He—he stabbed me. He had this knife. Like a hunting knife. It was on his belt. I didn’t notice before because I was too concerned about the gun. I… I tried to fight back, but he was too strong. I was scared.”

“Did they call each other by name? Did you hear either of them say any names at all?” Oaks asked.

Violet nodded. “He kept calling her Nat. She didn’t call him by any name.”

Natalie Oliver, Josie thought.

“So,” Josie said, picking up the narrative. “He stabbed you. They were fighting. Then what happened?”

“Then the woman came back. She hit him over the head with something. They started fighting again. I wanted to get up and run but I was bleeding. I didn’t want to draw their attention, so I just stayed very still. He came over after they stopped and kicked me in the ribs a few times. I tried not to react. She said, ‘Let’s go,’ and then he said he was going to finish the job.”

She paused to suck in several breaths. Her face had gone even paler than when they’d walked into the room. “Take your time,” Josie told her.

After a few more breaths, Violet continued, “She said I was dead already. I felt her hands on me. She checked my pulse. In my neck. She must have felt it—my heart was hammering at that point. But she told him, ‘See, I told you she was dead. Leave her and let’s get out of here.’”

Josie and Oaks exchanged a puzzled look. “She saved you,” Josie said.

Violet nodded again. “I don’t know why. There’s no way she didn’t feel my pulse. But she convinced him I was gone. I heard them walk off. A little while later, I tried to get up and walk, but I didn’t make it very far. I was too weak. Too much pain.”

“You’re safe now,” Josie told her. “Just rest. Thank you, Mrs. Young.”

Josie and Oaks left the Youngs and walked down the hall toward the elevators. “That doesn’t sound good,” Oaks said.

“No, it doesn’t,” Josie said. “Did your team find any evidence that Lucy had been at the mill?”

“We’re still processing, but so far, no. We haven’t.”

They didn’t say it, but she knew they were both thinking it: there was a very good chance that Lucy was dead.