After we learned front rooms such as ours had been used for funerals in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, my home office became humorously known as the funeral parlor. Fittingly, I sat in the dark, as if staring at the body of a recently deceased loved one. I had painted the walls a soft robin’s-egg blue, which was a symbol of renewal and rebirth, but even that did little to dispel the gloom in the room. The antique desk, armoire, books, and photos of the kids were as comforting as old friends. It was where I went when I wanted to be alone. The chair I’d rocked the children in as babies groaned in tune with the creaking of the floorboards. There had to be a clue somewhere.
Caleigh’s room seemed the most likely to provide a clue. I searched under the mattress and under the bed. Thick, furry layers of dust rose in swirls causing me to sneeze several times. I ransacked her dresser drawers and desk. The police had taken her computer and her desktop was conspicuously bare.
In the online support group I had joined, many of the missing teens had met with online predators. In my heart, I could not believe my thirteen-year-old daughter had met anyone online and left with him.
And then I found them. Caleigh’s diaries. Hidden behind the books on her bookshelf. Two small white journals with tiny locks that I had given her for her eleventh birthday which the police had obviously missed.
“Alex!” I burst into the room. “Wake up!” I turned on the light and shook his shoulder.
The bed moaned painfully as he bolted upright, the harsh light accentuating the shadows under his eyes.
“I found Caleigh’s diaries. They were behind her books on the bookshelf!” It surprised me she was writing in the diary instead of keeping an online journal. I tucked my legs underneath me and thumbed to the most recent entries, feeling dirty at invading my daughter’s privacy. I had no choice.
Alex rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?”
“It’s 2:00 a.m. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have woken you. Go back to sleep.”
He rubbed his shoulder. “Maybe you’d better hand them over to the police.”
“I will but do you think I should read it? Oh, no …”
“What is it?” Alex sat up a little straighter. “Damn, this shoulder is really bothering me.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to shake it. Forget about your shoulder for a minute and listen, okay? Here, this is the second one. Listen to this. She wrote this after I told her you were moving in:
Alex is okay but I can’t stop thinking about what’s gonna happen to Dane and me. Aubrey’s mother got remarried and her step-dad is a real jerk. I don’t know Alex very well but what if he starts telling us what to do like he’s our dad or something?
Alex shifted position and grimaced. “Did she write anything else?”
“Hmmm, let’s see. Okay, here. The other one is from earlier, after Matt died. Oh, God, Alex … I wish I’d known how much pain she was in but she never said a word. I know she was upset but she was so angry, I just couldn’t get through to her. Here she wrote:
my dad died today. I wiped a tear from my eye. it’s the worst day of my life. I wish I were dead.
“Poor kid. It’s not your fault, Grace, how could you have known?”
“Shit.”
“What?” Alex massaged his shoulder. “What did she say? Do you know where the heating pad is?”
“It’s in the closet. This is where she talks about cutting herself. Listen to this:
Aubrey told me a big secret that I can’t tell anyone. she cuts herself with a razor at night. she said it makes her feel good, like she’s letting some of the pain about her parents’ divorce out. I tried it when I took a bath tonight and she’s right. it felt good. I didn’t go too deep or anything, just enough to draw a tiny bit of blood. I made about four cuts on my thigh where no one will see them. they are lined up, straight as arrows. it’s sort of a reminder of how much I miss daddy.
“Wow. So this has been going on for a while, huh?” Alex tried to put his good arm around me.
“Alex, how could I have missed this? I have to read more.”
“Maybe that’s enough for tonight, sweetheart. It’s late. Why don’t you try to get some sleep instead of torturing yourself like this?”
“I need to read this,” I insisted and moved to the Queen Anne’s chair. The standing lamp provided just enough light to read by. “You can go to sleep if you want. This is important.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t important. But anytime I say anything, you’re ready to bite my head off. I just meant you should get some sleep and look at it tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry, okay? It’s just that I feel so bad about not even knowing what was going on in Caleigh’s life. What kind of mother am I anyway?”
“You’re a wonderful mother, you hear me? This is not your fault,” Alex said, leaning back against the pillows.
“Yeah, but I’m a psychiatrist, Alex! How could I have not seen this? I could kick myself.”
“She did write that she cut her thigh and how would you have seen that?” He got up and handed me the box of tissues from the night table. “Caleigh was pretty secretive about the whole thing. Is there anything that gives a clue about where they might be?”
“No, I don’t think so. Oh, my god, listen to this!”
mom had THE TALK with me tonight. She actually brought a cucumber into my room and showed me how to put a condom on it. I thought I would die!
“I remember that. That was your idea, not mine. Every time we bought cucumbers after that, Caleigh turned bright red.”
“That’s the way I did it in med school when I had to teach inner-city kids about using protection. It was kind of awkward. At least Dane doesn’t want a hamster anymore. Every time he mentioned it, I thought about your med school job in the lab as a hamster ejaculator!”
“Hey, somebody had to do it. I made good money with that research. How else were we supposed to get hamster sperm samples? As soon as I walked in the door, they were ready to go at it!”
It felt strange to smile about anything again. My face hurt from the effort.
“Come on. Forget about hamsters and cucumbers. Let’s try to get some sleep,” Alex said, kissing me good night. “It’s late.”
“You’re right. I’ll read it in the morning. And then, I’ll bring them in to Detective Meyers. Maybe he can get some information from them. I’m going to try calling Josie again too.”
At five, I slipped on a fleece robe and padded softly down the stairs to start the coffee, Caleigh’s diaries in hand. Might as well start at the beginning despite the misgivings I had about reading my daughter’s private thoughts. With a mug of coffee in hand, I sat down on the living room sofa and pulled Caleigh’s lilac checked comforter around me. The thin light of dawn did not provide much illumination, so I switched on a small table lamp. With Sketcher by my side, I began to read.
Much of what Caleigh wrote was about school and friends, and I skimmed quickly through this, smiling occasionally at a teenage girl’s preoccupations with popularity and clothes. There were references to studying for exams and wanting to do well in school, and about a crush on a boy named Sam. It was a glimpse into an adolescent world of innocence and angst that I had all but forgotten, until I got to May.
we went to quarry hill nature center today. the cave and the cemetery were creepy but what was really creepy was this woman following us.
A few weeks passed before she wrote about going to my unit picnic and meeting Josie.
I liked her. she gave me her number and we’ve texted a couple of times.
I had forgotten about that day, a bright sunny day in early summer. Alex, the kids and I had gone. The warden had allowed the family to tour the facility and although the children hadn’t been able to do so, they had enjoyed the picnic on the grounds and especially the food the inmates had prepared. A strange unease rose in my belly. Josie? Why the hell was Caleigh talking to Josie and why did they exchange phone numbers?
At that moment, Alex straggled down the stairs, still rubbing his shoulder. “You’re up early. Hmmm. Coffee smells good.”
“Help yourself. Poor Dahlia,” I said to no one in particular. “Dahlia thought Caleigh began cutting because the puppy disappeared, but this had been going for over two years and I missed it. It’s nothing she and Stan did. It had nothing to do with the puppy,” I said, jumping up. “Alex! Did you call Angela? Caleigh mentioned that strange woman we saw at Quarry Hill. What if it was Angela?”
Alex came into the living room with his coffee and a blueberry muffin, and raised his eyebrows. “Grace, that doesn’t make sense. That could have been anybody. I would’ve recognized her. Why would you think this woman might have been Angela? I thought you were going to mention it to Meyers.” Alex’s eye was twitching again.
“But you weren’t around when she was. Don’t you see? She could’ve ducked or turned whenever she saw you. There were a lot of people there that day. You wouldn’t have noticed her if she stayed in the background. Besides, she was wearing a baseball cap.”
“But why would Angela follow us around? What’s Caleigh say about the woman?”
“Just that a strange woman followed us and she told Josie about it. I need to call Detective Meyers. I think it’s time we had a talk with Angela. I mean she did call and text you and she did call me to tell me to stay away from you. She’s crazy. I think the police should talk to her. Don’t you think?”
Alex shrugged and took a sip of coffee.
“I’m going to call Josie, too. She has to be back from vacation by now. I had no idea that she and Caleigh were talking.”
* * *
Alex paced in the station. “Fuck. I really don’t want to see her again.”
“Detective Meyers called and said they’ve interviewed her but still need to check out her alibi. It was decent of her to agree to talk to us.” We sat in the dingy lobby. Angela Sawyer walked out of the detective’s office toward us. I had been so hopeful that Angela was the answer but now I wasn’t sure anymore.
Angela’s gaze fell on Alex and it was obvious that she was still in love with him. Her eyes softened and her lips parted when she saw him. She was beautiful. Curvy, well dressed and well groomed. Her apricot-colored hair was shoulder length and expertly straightened and blow-dried, cascading like a waterfall around her shoulders. I tried to picture Angela in jeans and a baseball cap. This woman was wearing a business suit and heels and carrying a leather briefcase.
“Alex,” Angela came over and took Alex’s hand. “How are you?”
My nose wrinkled at the sickening smell of gardenias. Angela smiled, her lips swollen as if she’d been stung by bees. I peered at her, dissecting her image. Could this have been the woman Caleigh and I had seen at Quarry Hill Nature Center?
“Angela.” Alex stood a little straighter. “This is Dr. Rendeau.”
I tried to read his feelings about his ex-wife. Angela’s smile faded. “Hello.” She looked at me sideways and nodded curtly in my direction. Her narrow eyes were as sharp as a hawk’s. “I’m sorry to hear about your children,” she said before turning to Alex. “How’ve you been?” Alex rubbed his shoulder. As if on cue, Angela reached out and laid her manicured hand on it. “That shoulder’s not acting up again, is it?”
Bitch. I felt like an imposter in front of this woman. Angela was professional, calm, and wearing expensive shoes. Her creamy breasts spilled out of the bustier she wore underneath her blouse. Alex was once in love with her. My children were missing and this woman was flirting with my fiancé. Detective Meyers had already told me that Angela said she was working the weekend the children went missing.
“I have to ask you a question,” I said to Angela. She raised her plucked brows. “My daughter and I saw someone following us a few weeks ago, and I need to ask if it was you.”
“You must be joking,” Angela said coolly, turning to Alex. “Why in the world would I follow you?”
Her tone of condescension and the attempt to humiliate me in front of Alex made me want to slap her. “If you’ll excuse me.” I couldn’t help myself. I ran outside. Alex called but I didn’t stop. He would’ve been better off with anybody but me, I thought as tears stung my eyes. When I got to the car, Alex grabbed me by the hand.
“What the hell was that all about?”
“Why didn’t you tell me she’s beautiful and accomplished and everything I’m not?” I sobbed. “You would’ve been so much better off with her. She wouldn’t have lost her children.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Angela exit the revolving door of the station. She shielded her eyes with her hand at her forehead and smirked.
“Grace, stop this right now. I love you. Don’t you get that? You, Grace. Not Angela.” He kissed my eyelids and drew me closer. “I love you, okay?”
We watched Angela climb into her BMW and drive off. “Do you think she did it? She could be the woman Caleigh and I noticed lurking around the nature center.”
“Honestly? No. She looks like she’s pulled herself together and I really can’t see her trudging around a nature center in the rain to follow us. What would be the point?” Alex wiped his forehead. “Do you think maybe it’s just that you don’t like Angela?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she’s trying to get back at you. Or at me for taking you away from her. Meyers told me some kidnappers have fantasies of being a parent. The kidnapper becomes confused with thinking they’re doing something good for the child, like taking him or her out of a bad situation and giving them a wonderful life. And they begin to believe it. Sometimes the child doesn’t even escape because he’s become so dependent on the kidnapper for everything. Did you ever hear of Stockholm syndrome?”
“Yeah … Isn’t that where the hostages felt empathy toward their captors and even defended them after they were freed?” Alex asked.
“Yeah. It’s a form of traumatic bonding. Say a person threatens or abuses or intimidates you. The victim might still develop strong emotional ties because the abuser is the only one they have who is taking care of them in some sick way. It’s an adaptive trait to align yourself with the captor. That’s what happened in the Patty Hearst and the Jaycee Lee Dugard cases.”
“Angela’s pretty smart, Grace. I’m sure she could come up with a better scheme than that for getting back at me. One that doesn’t involve two kids.”
“I thought you said she really wanted a baby? Shit! We should’ve left the windows cracked. It’s like a sauna in here.” The car was an oven. “She looks evil enough to me to take someone else’s kids, with those plumped-up lips and Botoxed forehead.”
“Angela is much too self-centered to want to take on two kids. I really think her wanting a baby was just her way of trying to hang onto me. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Alex started the car and turned on the air, full blast. “You didn’t miss a thing, did you?”
“At least they’re going to check out her alibi and keep her under surveillance if anything unusual comes up. I can’t believe you ever loved that woman. Anyway, let’s stop at Josie’s okay? I want to see if she’s home yet and ask her about Caleigh calling her. You could check if you have any mail while we’re there.”
“Sure, good idea. No more talk about Angela, okay?” Alex turned left onto Silver Lake Drive. We circled the lake and watched a squadron of geese flying overhead. When we pulled onto Churchill Lane, Alex pointed out that the For Sale sign was still up in front of his townhouse. “I guess the realtor hasn’t sent anyone over to mow the lawn. Look at those weeds. Wonder how long it’ll take for the townhouse to sell. It’s not too late, you know.”
“Hmmm? Not too late for what, sweetie?”
“Grace, are you paying attention? You know, for me to move back here.”
“Why on earth would you do that? It’s not seeing that fucking Angela again is it?”
Alex laughed out loud. “You’ve got to be kidding. When I saw her today, I wondered what I ever saw in her in the first place. She has nothing on you. Believe me. I think it’s the stress talking, Grace.”
“Why would you say such a thing then? Did you just realize that maybe this is all too much for you? I know nothing has gone the way we planned …”
“Grace, stop. I said it because I was thinking that maybe if I was out of the picture, whoever has the kids would bring them home. Okay? I said it because I feel guilty that it seems to be about us in some way. I haven’t been able to forget that crazy phone call. You know, the ‘Where’s your little Gracie? If she wants her children back, you’ll be out of there,’ one. I haven’ been able to sleep since.”
I put my hand on Alex’s arm. “Listen to me. I love you. We’re not going to let some lunatic drive us apart. I don’t know if it would make any difference at all if you moved back or not, and I need you. I would seriously die if you left.”
He parked in the driveway and took out his keys. “I’m going to check inside to make sure everything’s okay. You’re going to Josie’s?”
“Yeah, that looks like her car. I think she’s home. I’ll meet you in about ten minutes, okay? You’re going in to work today, right?”
“Yeah, I have a meeting. Meet you at the car in ten minutes,” he said, kissing me.