Weep In The Night (19 page)

“If all goes as planned. Are you worried?”

“A little. It's been almost three years. Will she remember me?”

“We won't talk to her today. First you have to positively identify her.”

Erik burst through the back door. “The boss called. I've got to go. Sorry, Sadie. Our trip has been postponed for a few hours. I'll return as soon as I can.”

Sadie's face paled.

“If Erik says we wait, we wait. Be patient a little longer.” He guided her to the sofa.

She snuggled next to him.

Words of solace and encouragement poured from his lips.

After a while she excused herself and returned to her room.

His heart brimming with longing, he locked himself in his room and opened his laptop. Work, the antidote.

 

****

 

At one o'clock Erik returned.

Bowen and Sadie had already had lunch and were still in the kitchen.

“The vehicles are ready,” Erik said. Once outside, Erik slid into a dark green pickup, and Bowen pointed to a gray SUV. “This is our chariot today.”

“Where are the vehicles from yesterday?” Sadie climbed in and fastened her seat belt.

Bowen adjusted the earpiece and set the tiny microphone by his mouth. “Can you hear me, Erik? Good. Let's go.” He turned the key in the ignition. “We have a fleet of—“

“A fleet?”

“We have several cars to use in situations like this. Don't worry about the details.”

She slipped on her sunglasses and faced the side window. A brief glance her way caught her dark lenses aimed at him. “What?”

“I've been thinking about you—“

“Really?”

“Not like that, you goof. About you and your organization. Are there others besides you and Erik?”

“The less you know the better.”

“But all the—never mind. I'm trying to understand.” She stared out the window again. “It must be costing Cal a tidy sum.”

“No comment.”

“Can you at least tell me the plans for today? I deserve that much.”

He held up a hand to her and adjusted the microphone. “Got it. Thanks. Keep me updated. Erik says we made a clean run out of L.A. No tail. OK, here's the plan. When we get to Santa Clarita, I'll park down the street from Ms. Adams's house. There are binoculars in the back. We'll watch the house while Erik sweeps the neighborhood to make sure
we're
not being watched.”

“And Hannah?”

“She's at school. Rides the bus home. That'll be your best shot at seeing her. I'll take pictures, too.”

“That's a long time to wait. Why can't I go to the school and see her there?”

“Not a good idea. You need to stay—“

“What if the Levasseurs know she has Hannah?”

“No, no, Sadie. If they knew about Hannah, they'd have used her to lure you out of hiding long ago.”

“I suppose you're right.” She folded her arms. “You have been so far.”

Bowen didn't acknowledge her statement but steered the vehicle through the thinning traffic. Erik's voice in his ear fed updates every ten minutes. All clear. He crossed the railroad tracks and drove down a tree-lined street. Stucco, stone, and clapboard houses, most with neat expanses of lawn, sprawled on each side. Bowen parked in front of a vacant house with a red and white
For Sale
sign stuck in the lawn. “That's her house, third from the corner, on the left. Pale green with darker green trim, shrubs along the sidewalk, blue car in the driveway.”

Sadie removed her sunglasses. “I see it. So now, we wait?”

“Yup.” Bowen snagged two pairs of binoculars from the backseat and gave one to her. “These are for you.” He raised his and focused them on the house. “That car wasn't here yesterday.”

“Was she at work?”

“No. She doesn't have a job. Our research revealed she inherited this house and a pair of duplexes several blocks over. I guess she lives on the rental income.” He relayed the information about the strange vehicle with a rusted right rear fender to Erik.

Erik drove by twice, but they didn't acknowledge him. Other than a brown delivery van, no other vehicles moved in the quiet neighborhood.

At two thirty, the woman appeared on her front porch.

Bowen's stomach muscles tensed.

She examined plants in the two hanging baskets, and plumped cushions on a wooden swing while surveying the street.

Bowen slumped in his seat. “Careful, Sadie.”

“I see her.” Sadie scrunched down. “What's she doing now?”

“She's in the rocking chair. Staring at us.”

 

 

 

 

21

 

“What now?” A vise of anxiety constricted Sadie's chest.

“That's not good.” Bowen tapped his earpiece. “Hey, Erik, she's on the front porch. Don't drive by more than once.”

Tension mounted like billowing storm clouds. The minutes ticked by at a glacial pace.

“What will we do if she stays on the porch?”

“I'll think of something. Wait, she's getting up and going inside.”

Three years of grief lifted from Sadie's heart.
Don't get in the way of me seeing my daughter.
“If the girl is Hannah, what should I do?”

“Once you're certain, we'll leave and make further plans. We can't pick her up off the street and drive away.”

“But—“

“Sadie, there'll probably be other kids around, parents waiting for them. Think of how Hannah might react to seeing you. She may not recognize you and resist. Or she might and…faint, scream, run home. Who knows? If she kicks up a ruckus it will draw too much attention.”

Ten agonizing minutes ticked by.

Bowen straightened and focused on his side mirror.

“School bus.”

The bus's lights flashed and the red stop sign arm extended.

Sadie's heart raced and knots pretzeled in her stomach.

Six children exited. Two stayed on the right side of the street and four crossed in front of the bus. The big yellow vehicle pulled away and lumbered down the street.

Sadie focused the binoculars on the children.

Two boys headed their way and then entered a house at least four lots back. A tall girl stopped and waved to the other kids before running up her driveway.

Three others—a boy and two girls, one blonde, the other with shoulder length brown curls—chatted as they neared the car.

The boy slithered out of his backpack and threw it onto a patch of lawn. He picked up a bicycle and yelled something to the girls as he rode away down the sidewalk.

Bowen, now using a camera with telephoto lens, asked, “Is Hannah one of those girls?”

Eyes fixed on the brunette, she didn't respond. The child's movements prevented Sadie from studying her face.

The girls linked arms and skipped.

The binoculars slipped from Sadie's grasp, her breath caught.

The blonde skipped in a regular pattern, but the other girl had an extra little bob in her step. Hannah skipped that way. She couldn't master the fluid motion. The girls giggled and slowed.

Hannah. It had to be Hannah.

She needed to get closer. Sadie opened her door and climbed out. One face-to-face look and then she'd whisk Hannah away and never let go. As the girls came even with the SUV, she ran across the street.
Is it my child, my little girl?

But Bowen threw his arms around her, his words a hoarse whisper. “Don't, Sadie. Don't.”

As the wide-eyed girls passed her, Sadie held out her hand.

The blonde threw her a puzzled stare, while the brunette narrowed her dark eyes and glared.

Bowen half carried Sadie back to their vehicle while scanning to see if there were any witnesses. He remained by her door until she buckled her seatbelt. “That was not smart.” His quick breaths stirred her hair.

“It's Hannah. Why can't I take her now?” Sadie's words caught on a sob.

“Remember what I said earlier. You'll need to confront her in a more controlled environment. Give her the opportunity to take in the shock of seeing you again.”

Sadie kept her gaze on the girl who opened the front door and disappeared inside.

Bowen pulled away from the curb and focused on the traffic, body rigid, jaw muscles working.

She'd acted irrationally and had maybe even jeopardized their situation, but she couldn't sit there and watch the girl who looked so much like Hannah walk by. Tears trickled down her cheeks.

Bowen handed her a wad of tissues.

By the time they parked in the driveway, her eyes were dry. She entered through the back door and crumpled on her bed. Curled up, her heart aching, she closed her eyes. A skipping, giggling little girl filled her mind. In the relative quiet of the room, Sadie focused on one thought. At least Hannah appeared to be happy.

The stress had produced a jackhammer headache. She eased off the bed and searched her purse for Tylenol, but found none. Maybe Bowen had something she could take. On her way to the door, the makeshift vase on the dresser caught her eye. A pink carnation had been added. Was it Erik or Bowen? A small smile broke through the pain, and she opened her door.

Erik and Bowen were working at laptops on the kitchen table.

“Hey, Sadie. Hope we didn't disturb you.” Bowen stopped tapping keys.

“Would you like tea?” Eric asked.

“What I need is something for my headache. And then tea, thank you.” Neither of them mentioned the flower and with all the emotional chaos storming through her brain, she decided to leave it a mystery for now.

“Come with me. Let's see what's in the pharmacy.” Bowen motioned for her to follow him.

They entered the bathroom he shared with Erik. It was the first time she'd been in there. They had given her the larger room with en-suite bath. Bowen opened a black vinyl bag, pulled out his electric razor, toothpaste, and two pill bottles. He picked one and shook it and then threw it away. “Empty. Let's check this one.” Pills rattled in it as he handed it to her. “There're a few left. Hope they help.”

She took the bottle. “Thanks. I'm sure it's a tension headache.”

When they entered the kitchen, Erik had a box of assorted tea bags and a mug of hot water on the counter. “Just for you.”

She tore into a packet of paradise mango and dropped the bag into the cup. “Thank you, Erik. It is very thoughtful of you.”

Erik closed his laptop. “I have to leave. Come sit.” He gathered a majority of the folders and carried everything down the hall.

Bowen returned to his place and focused on the screen.

“I can sit in the living room if you need to work.” Sadie dunked the tea bag, the fruity fragrance rising on whiffs of steam.

“No, stay. I'm almost done with this report.” He glanced at her over the laptop and then tapped the keys.

The soothing tea coated her throat, and the cup warmed her hands. With all the windows covered by blinds or curtains, she had no idea about the weather forecast, but the chill in the air nibbled at her toes. The hole in her heart didn't help, either. When she finished her tea, she took the cup to the sink and peeked through the mini-blinds. Sure enough, streaky gray clouds hid the sky. She hugged herself and shivered. Another cup of tea would help. She set the cup of water in the microwave and chose a cranberry-apple flavored bag.

Erik's footsteps clomped down the hall and stopped by the back door. “Be gone a couple of hours. Will you like lasagna for supper?”

“Sure. And tell Ginger I'm working on the report.”

Erik mock-saluted and left.

The microwave dinged, and Sadie pulled out the cup, dunked the tea bag and waited by the trash can next to the sink.

A horn honked from the backyard. “What did Erik forget now?” Bowen opened the back door, jumped down the stairs, and jogged to Erik's truck.

Bowen's open laptop sat all alone at one end of the table. Words on the white screen jumped out at Sadie. Evelyn Adams. Sadie tried to grab girl. Child is probably Hannah. The report detailed the stakeout. She took note of specifics. Bowen was e-mailing it to Holland395 at IRO dot org.

By the time he entered the kitchen, she sat on the sofa sipping her tea.

Bowen returned to his laptop. “I'll be finished in a minute or two.”

Sadie's fingers itched to get a hold of a computer and check out IRO. And Ginger.

Bowen entered the living room. “All done. Mind if I join you?” He sat in the armchair before she could reply. “How's the headache?”

She drained her cup and set it on the table. “Easing off, thanks. Did you finish the report for Ginger?”

“I did, but how—of course, I told Erik. Ginger's a stickler when it comes to punctuality.”

He'd confirmed Sadie's suspicions. He worked for IRO. Maybe he'd divulge more with a bit of prodding. “She must be a good secretary. Will I get a chance to meet her?”

“You have a subtle way of wheedling information from me. But no. Erik and I are the only staff you'll meet. That is, unless we run into problems.” He lowered his gaze and clenched his jaw. “Speaking of problems, Sadie, we have to talk about this afternoon.”

“I'm sorry, but I needed a closer look.”

“And that's why I had to drag you out of there.” His voice was gentle, and his hand brushed her arm.

The headache pulsed behind her eyes. Her empty arms longed to hold her child.

“I understand why you ran after Hannah, but we can't—“

“How can you understand?” She swung around. “Have you ever lost a child and then found her again?”

“No. I don't know what you're going through.” He opened his arms as though he wanted to hold her.

Her hands crept up his chest. His arms tightened as her whispered words of pain and hope sputtered out on each ragged breath. Somewhere in the outpouring of despair, the spicy scent of his cologne permeated her fog. His warm breath caressed her face as he placed soft kisses on her forehead.