Listen

16

Frank zipped his coat all the way to the chin and pulled on his heaviest leather gloves. The wind snapped and howled. The moon, nearly full, provided decent light at 2:30 in the morning. The quietness was undone by the distant sound of dogs barking and people shouting Gabriella’s name.

“Come on. Get something hot to drink,” Frank said, urging the volunteer team into the parking lot. They’d searched the large park in the center of Marlo but came up empty and dejected.

Captain Grayson handed Frank a cup of hot cider. “Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

Nearby, Reverend Caldwell huddled with his wife, his gaze darting to every sound. He clutched a Bible to his chest.

“We’ve issued the Amber Alert, and we’ve got the FBI coming in with more dogs.” Grayson laid a map down on his car. “When we get light, we’ll start here. There’s a lot of country out there, lots of trees and shrubs.”

“Light? We can’t wait that long.”

“And then there’s the river.”

“I know.”

Lou leaned against the car, sipping the cider. “Her parents are sure she didn’t run away. They said she’s very responsible, very reliable. They said she’s been upset since the cat incident, but she wasn’t upset with them, just with the circumstance. She left her money, her coat. Her car is still in the driveway, and the keys are at home. She takes medication that was left.”

Frank scanned the hillside, listening to the volunteers call her name, watching the lights bounce through the darkness. “She didn’t run away. Call it a gut instinct.” He tossed his cider. “I’m assuming we’ve interviewed Tim and Darla Shaw?”

“Yeah. Murray tracked them down. They have solid alibis.”

“Which means there’s a good chance they had nothing to do with the cat either. Because it seems to me these two things could be connected.”

“Maybe.”

Frank looked out over the crowd of people. Their faces, cold and chapped, told the whole story. They were losing their town. Innocence was fading. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Fear shone in their eyes, haunting and hollow.

“You okay?” Grayson asked.

Frank swallowed hard, trying to shove memories aside. But today they wouldn’t budge. Not even a little. “You know how many calls we covered yesterday? I saw two men, bathed in blood, on the floor of a grocery store. All because one man said something about another man’s sister.”

“Well, we all know what that leads to.”

“Except he didn’t say it to him-he said it to his wife at a party in a back room. And now it’s on the Internet for everyone to read. The Web site is showing eight thousand hits a day. People are devouring this stuff.”

“I know. I started reading it myself.”

“You still think we shouldn’t investigate?” Frank knew his tone was heavy and intense, but that was the best he could do under the circumstances.

Grayson let out a hard sigh. “We don’t have the resources. I think I can get Sampson to pull a detective off Robbery to monitor it, and we may be able to gain a lead if they slip and make a mistake, but we need some computer experts in here. We can ask state, but you know that’ll take weeks to process.”

“People are growing paranoid. They’re not trusting their friends, their neighbors. Relationships are being permanently ruined.”

“My hands are tied.”

“What’s it going to take for you to see how bad this is going to get?”

“Frank-”

Frank slapped the map. “I’m going to the alley off Gordon Street.”

“Wait. Let me get some volunteers together to-”

But Frank didn’t wait. He couldn’t. He had to find this girl if it was the last thing he did. Ever.

Damien’s entire body shivered as he made his way inside his home. The heated air enveloped him when he shook off his coat. Unwinding the scarf from his neck, he took his first deep breath since he’d left the house hours ago.

He still trembled but from the inside out. Even as he sought to reassure anyone he could, dread seized every word. Nobody was reassured. Not even him.

Quietly, he turned the light on above the stairwell and tiptoed toward the top, hoping not to wake anyone. He’d left to cover the story and ended up joining a team searching for Gabriella. They marched through a field high with weeds, calling out her name, flashlight beams bouncing around like pinballs. It felt haunting, frantic, but slow and methodical. At one point, he’d stooped down, catching a glimpse of a shoe. Turned out it was an old farmer’s boot. But his emotions swelled, and it was all he could do not to show them.

He topped the stairs and stood looking at the closed doors of his children’s rooms. Both said Keep Out. But he longed to check on them, make sure they were okay. He grabbed the doorknob to Hunter’s room. His door always squeaked. He gently pushed his body against it and it popped open. Hunter stirred in his bed but didn’t wake.

He used to check on the kids several times a night. When they were first born, he’d stand over their cribs, watching them breathe. When they were toddlers, he’d stand over their beds and pray. Then one day, they didn’t want nighttime stories read anymore, and they didn’t come downstairs for good-night kisses. The routine vanished, and now they all simply slept and didn’t think about one another until the morning.

Damien tried to shut the door quietly, then felt someone grab his arm. He jerked around to find Kay in her pajamas, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t sleep.”

Damien wrapped an arm around her and led her to their bedroom. “Have you been crying all this time?”

She nodded, wiping the tears. “I kind of freaked out earlier, after we got home from handing out flyers, and told the kids they weren’t walking by themselves in the neighborhood. And I told Jenna she couldn’t drive by herself. Then I made some stupid remark about her skirt… They’re both mad at me.”

“They’ll get over it.”

They sat at the edge of the bed. Kay put her head on his shoulder, blotting her face with her hands. “I just can’t believe this is happening. What terrible thing has happened to this poor girl?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying not to think about it. They sent us home tonight and said we’d resume in the morning. Maybe if you came with me, it would help you feel like you were doing something. Rather than sitting here worrying.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea. I want to help.”

“Let’s get you to bed.” He pulled down the covers.

Kay scooted back and lay down, her body sinking into the sheets. She suddenly started crying harder.

Damien turned, rubbing her shoulder. “Sweetie…”

“They called me a slut.”

“What? Who?” Damien sat straight up. “On the Web site?”

Kay turned over to face him, her hands tucked between her cheek and the pillow. “In high school. It was painted on my locker one day after school. I couldn’t scrub it off.” She broke down, burying her face in the pillow.

Damien didn’t know what to say. Kay had never mentioned anything like this.

“I used to wear these really short skirts. They were kind of the style. But then these rumors started going around about me. They weren’t true but…”

“Why haven’t you ever told me this?” Damien said, taking her into his arms.

“I was so embarrassed. It hurt me so much. My friends stopped talking to me. I was totally alone. I had nobody. All because of a stupid rumor. And now I see our daughter…” Kay clutched his chest. “Don’t you see that string around her wrist? Don’t you know what that means? And those blouses she wears? I feel like I’m living a nightmare with her. In her.”

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I had no idea.”

“I just don’t want her to end up like me. I don’t want-” she covered her mouth for a moment-“anyone to ever call her a…”

She cried for a long time. Damien held her until she finally fell asleep. He put her gently on her pillow.

In the darkness, he sat on the edge of the bed and listened to her breathe until each breath was slow and deep and he was sure she was in a deep sleep.

He rose, walked to the bathroom, shut the door, and kept the light off. He slid to the floor and stared into the darkness.