Bringing Maddie Home(18)
Author: Janice Kay Johnson

CHAPTER NINE

COLIN REACHED INTO the box and realized it was empty. He’d removed and scrutinized every last scrap of paper. Damn. How could this be?

A good deal of information on the investigation into Maddie’s disappearance was computerized, so he’d started there. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he retrieved from the basement the box that held, in theory, all police and lab reports as well as any notes taken by investigators as they conducted interviews. All standard. If this were being opened as a cold case, a detective ought to be able to go through this box and come out of it knowing everything investigators at the time had known.

Missing was any reference to Maddie having a boyfriend at all, never mind his name.

In fact, there was no indication anyone had talked to Emily Henson at all after that first, preliminary interview the day after Maddie vanished. Colin had found Duane’s notes from a later talk with Hailey Allen. Was it Duane who’d screwed up? Or had he assigned someone else to hit up Emily again? Or, hell, had some member of the clerical staff spilled her coffee on what appeared to be an unimportant piece of paper and chose to toss it?

He was brooding when Nell called to let him know she was free for the rest of the afternoon. He asked if they could have lunch, and she suggested her friend Hailey’s place.

“Give me fifteen or twenty minutes,” he said. “I have one call to make before I leave.”

That call was to Duane, who reacted explosively to the news that a potentially crucial piece of information had gone missing from one of his investigations.

“A boyfriend,” he muttered. “A guy older than her, someone nobody knew. Damn it, I know I had somebody go back and talk to the Henson girl! I just can’t remember who.” He grunted. “Please tell me Maddie remembers him.”

“No.” Colin didn’t say, but mention of his name scares the shit out of her.

“Why are you poking around in this?” Duane asked. “She’s home.”

“Because I don’t like leaving it hanging. The very fact that she’s home could make somebody nervous.” He hesitated. “She had a near miss last night, Duane. Could have been an accident, but it could as well have been deliberate. She was crossing the street and was almost hit.”

Duane swore. “I hadn’t thought. I should have. Hell. Did she see enough to give you a lead?”

“Unfortunately, no.” In what might seem like a non sequitur, he commented on the rising temperature. “Sounds like we might get a week or two above freezing.”

Duane knew what he was thinking. “The crew is back to work at the park this morning. The pile shouldn’t be in too bad shape. We had tarps spread over it.”

“Good,” Colin said. “Keep me on top of it. Hey. You haven’t seen Maddie yet, have you?”

“I didn’t want to push it. The poor kid has a lot to take in.”

“Not a kid anymore.”

Silence. “No. Damn, I still think of her…” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’m going to try to make it to dinner at Helen’s tonight.”

Oh, right. Of course Duane had been invited. “Good enough,” Colin said, and they signed off.

At least that investigation could move forward, he thought, leaving his office. He wished he thought they’d uncover something that would allow them to identify the victim.

He got lucky and found parking half a block from the café, where he’d eaten a number of times. He’d even seen the small plump woman who ran it. Guessing what color her hair would be in any given week amused him. He’d never heard her name, though, and had had no idea that she was connected to Maddie Dubeau.

Just the sight of Nell waiting for him gave him a jolt of pleasure. She must have just walked in, because her cheeks and nose were pink and her hair was messy, making him guess she’d worn a hat. She was trying to finger-comb it when she felt the draft from the open door and saw him.

“Hi,” she said, a little shyly, not at all as if he were the man who’d carried her to the bath last night.

Or maybe exactly because he had lifted her into his arms and seen her without her shirt. In a bra that had lived up to his expectations after he’d caught that glimpse of her socks. Picturing the saucy little bra and all that smooth, creamy skin made him wonder what she was wearing today beneath the too-sacky sweater.

He didn’t know what he said, but was glad to be seated immediately. He was good at controlling his facial expressions, but apparently not as good at suppressing his physical reaction to the woman who was trying to hide inside those boring clothes.

Damn it, why her? he asked himself, disturbed.

He had no answer, but couldn’t tear his gaze from her face.

Nell and he were halfway through lunch when her friend Hailey appeared to give him the once-over, which he withstood with good humor. He liked that she felt protective. He watched when she returned to the kitchen, then looked back at Nell.

“You’re still planning to have dinner with your parents tonight?”

“Yes, Mom called.” She sounded carefully neutral.

He only nodded, despite feeling a pang of regret. Sometimes he enjoyed having dinner with a woman, but a cancellation never bothered him, either. The time with Nell had been different. Sharing his house, having her seem at home in his kitchen. Talking as if they were old friends, if not more.

He wanted to be more, but was still convinced that would be a mistake. Nell was Maddie, which made any relationship between them complicated. Made her complicated. God knew this wasn’t a good point in her life.

She’d progressed to pushing bits of a lemon pastry around her plate. He suspected at best Nell wasn’t a big eater, but as little as he’d seen her actually put in her mouth and swallow, Colin worried she was going to start dropping weight she couldn’t afford to lose. He’d seen the same worry in her friend Hailey’s eyes as she brought them the flaky treats on plates and said, “No, don’t argue, these are on me.”

“You’d better eat that,” he said, nodding at her plate. “You don’t want to hurt Hailey’s feelings.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, then stole a look toward the kitchen. “Oh, fine,” she muttered, and took a bite.

Colin hid his smile, sipping coffee while she ate the melt-in-your-mouth pastry with resignation.

Over lunch she’d told him about the two people she’d succeeded in talking to today. One had been a neighbor girl who had babysat Maddie and her brother when they were younger. She’d cried when she saw Nell. The other had been her fifth-grade teacher, who had been especially caring. When Nell talked, he could see how much it meant to her to have people welcome her with honest joy.

He could only ask himself again what in hell was wrong with her parents.

He left money on the table that included a generous tip when he and Nell left.

“Why don’t I drive? I’ll drop you back here to pick up your car when we’re done.”

“Yes, fine.” She waited while he unlocked. “I think I’ll go shopping this afternoon. I need some new boots. Maybe some more warm clothes. I didn’t bring that much with me.”

As he drove, he tried to keep her from dwelling on where they were going. Coming up with questions to ask was easy enough. He seemed to be unendingly curious about her.

She couldn’t afford skiing, but admitted to having gone ice-skating with some friends once and discovered she knew the basics. “Is there a rink here?” she asked.

“A couple of the resorts have them. I don’t know about your father’s.”

She gazed ahead, her forehead crinkling. “I don’t think so, but…I’m not sure.”

His sidelong look took in the clench she had on the seat belt where it crossed her chest. Clearly his diversionary tactics hadn’t been a complete success.

With the rising temperature the slush on the road was more water than ice. The forecast was for more of the same. If Nell wasn’t too upset, he might take a minute to walk over to the scene where the bones had been found.

The reminder filled him with fresh wonder. Damn, only a few weeks ago he’d feared those bones were Maddie’s, and now here she was. He stole another glance at her to see that she was staring straight ahead, deep in thought. It was disconcerting to realize he didn’t think of her as Maddie most of the time. He’d had lunch with Nell. Held Nell in his arms.

It was Nell Smith who wore sexy bras, not sad-eyed, teenage Maddie. He’d never thought of Maddie that way, and he was having trouble thinking of Nell in any other way.

But Nell Smith was often sad-eyed, too.

And, hell, if he were confused, what must she be feeling?

He parked close to the trail Maddie had been taking that night. Several familiar vehicles were parked not far ahead, belonging to the crime scene crew and detectives who had resumed work a few hundred yards away.

So damn close to where Maddie had been snatched, he thought again. So close, he had trouble believing it to be coincidental. Unless, of course, Duane was right when he wondered if there weren’t other bodies buried here beneath these old pines.

He turned off the engine and in the silence, Nell didn’t move. All she did was stare at the forest that incongruously survived between a housing development and the road. Colin stayed where he was, waiting. They were doing this her way. He wasn’t in such a hurry that there was reason to push.

At last she sighed and reached for the handle. “I’m glad it’s daylight.”

“You wouldn’t be able to see much in the dark.” Better than telling her the damn place was haunted at night.

By the time he got out, locked and reached her, she had tucked her hands in the pockets of a fleece vest and was eyeing the bulldozed road that led to the clearing where the trees had been taken out.

“Some of the trees were infested with pine beetles,” he explained. “The park department is having the sick ones removed in hopes of saving the rest. Bulldozers have made a real mess.”

She only nodded.

“This way,” he said quietly, and led her to the narrow path used by kids. Easy to miss if you didn’t know it was there. The ground was soggy and the undergrowth wet until they got under the trees. The peeling red bark of madrona added color against the brown boles of the ancient pines. White berries clung to some arching branches of snowberry bushes. That night twelve years ago had been dry, but otherwise he was looking at nearly an identical scene.

Nell kept up with him, her head turning as she took it all in. He couldn’t tell whether she didn’t remember a thing, or was keeping whatever she felt tucked deep.

He’d seen a lot of crime scenes in the intervening years. He shouldn’t remember this one as well as he did. He should have had to work to orient himself instead of being able to stop in the exact same spot he’d been that night when his flashlight glanced off metal.

“Here,” he said, stopping. “Your bike was about there.” He pointed, remembering how deep the handlebar was dug into the soil and the chill that gave him. “There was some scuffing, but not clear footprints.” He crouched. “I think the blood was about here. Your wallet had fallen a ways in that direction.” He nodded toward the clump of low green ceanothus.

Nell was a statue. Staring. It was a long time before she even blinked. Alarmed, he slowly rose to his feet. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“It’s creepy here,” she whispered, as if someone might be listening.

He glanced around, wondering if kids who still used this path had ever even heard about the girl who was abducted. If their parents had told them, warned them away from the park, did they feel a little thrill when they pedaled furiously through, defying those warnings? Maybe stories of Maddie had added some horror-movie excitement to teenage keggers.

The thought sickened him.

“It sure as hell was that night. Teenagers party here in the park sometimes. That’s what I expected to find. But I knew as soon as I got here that I was alone. It was too quiet.”

Not today, he realized. He could hear chain saws off in the distance. No heavy equipment; the ground might be too wet. There was noise from traffic out on the street, voices muted by distance.

She shivered. “I don’t remember. I thought I would, but I don’t.”

Maybe not, but something was stirring uneasily in her head. She could be spooked only because she knew this was where it had happened, but the way her gaze darted around seemed extreme. He wondered if she’d stopped that night and heard a noise. That was what she looked like right now—as if she wanted to run but didn’t know which direction.

His gloved hand closed over hers. “It was a long shot.”

“You said I was unlikely to remember.”

“I couldn’t be sure, but whatever happened here caused the memory loss. You know, it was bad. There was enough blood to scare the crap out of me.”

He had purposely tried to sound rueful. Her big brown eyes fastened on his face, and after a moment she almost smiled. The tension in her body eased. She made no effort to retrieve her hand from his.

“How old were you?”

“Twenty-two, only two months on the job. The car accidents I’d dealt with to that point were fender benders—I’d broken up keggers, arrested shoplifters.” He didn’t mention the domestic violence. Those calls had gotten to him, but not surprised him. “I hadn’t seen anything really ugly yet. Later…” He stopped. Two or three years later, would he have reacted the same to the scene of Maddie’s abduction, the face looking up at him from the driver’s permit?

“You were a kid yourself,” she murmured.

Colin huffed out a brief laugh. “Yeah, I guess I was. Although I wouldn’t have appreciated you saying so then.”

Her lips definitely curved, but failed to soften the stark lines of her face. She shivered again.