Without a Trace. Carissa Lynch Ann

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Without a Trace - Carissa Lynch Ann


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why I called you, isn’t it?” Nova huffed. She walked out of the room, mumbling to herself again.

      As I walked around the side of the bed, looking more closely at the room, I couldn’t help but be reminded of playing hide and seek with my cousins and friends when I was a kid. Could Lily be hiding somewhere?

      It was possible that the husband took her, but I hadn’t seen any signs of struggle or forced entry. How did he sneak the girl out?

      The window behind the bed was locked tight. I peeked beneath the bed. The wood floors were clean, no dust or debris underneath. Next, I checked out the closet and drawers. I was surprised to find them full. A neat row of children’s clothes hung from the rack. Removing a pale-yellow dress, I was surprised to find it still had tags attached. I sifted through the other outfits too—everything looked brand new.

      “Ms. Nesbitt?” When I stuck my head out of the bedroom, I was surprised to find her standing right there in the hall. As we came nose to nose, I jumped and made an embarrassing squeaking sound.

      “F-find anything?” She gnawed on her nails, shifting from foot to foot, reminding me of a toddler waiting to pee.

      “Did you buy new clothes for Lily?”

      “Oh. Yes,” Nova said, nodding. “We d-didn’t have time to pack m-much.”

      I nodded, then resumed searching. The first two drawers were full of underwear and socks and the bottom drawer contained books and toys. Again, all looked brand new. Some were even wrapped in their packaging still.

      Something about this whole thing felt off. I could understand having to buy new things when moving, but new everything? It seemed highly unusual.

      Next, I walked through all the other rooms, checking for broken or unlocked windows. I opened closets and looked beneath the few furnishings inside the house.

      A new thought was shifting around in my mind. “Lily wouldn’t wander outside on her own, would she? New house, new place. Maybe she went off to explore?” Images of dead, floating kids in ponds fluttered through my brain. And miniature, mangled bodies by the side of the road, the bent-back limbs protruding…

      I’d never seen any of those things in real life, but I’d seen plenty of ghastly images while studying at the academy. Some of the men in my class liked to “shock” me with them, sticking them in my locker and desk drawers during training. I was one of only two women in my class, and behind our backs, they liked to call us “the pretty one” and “the ugly one”. I think I would have preferred the latter.

      “No, she wouldn’t. I s-sat on her bed, r-reading to her until she fell asleep. And I ch-checked on her a few times before I w-went to bed last night. I was w-worried. I looked around outside b-before I called, but I-I know h-he took her…”

      “How do you think your ex got in the house, if he didn’t have a key?” We were standing in the kitchen now. I stared at the child’s suitcase on the floor. It was decorated with smiley red cars, the one from that Pixar movie but I couldn’t remember the name of it. Not having a child myself, I suddenly felt unsure how to help this woman. My mother would know what to do and where to look, I thought. Instantly, I pushed that thought aside, feeling childish and incompetent.

      What I should do is call one of the officers back at the station, but they all hated my guts and didn’t trust me…

      I stared at the suitcase on the floor. Nova had time to hang up new clothes, but didn’t unload the suitcase, I noted. It was one more minor detail that made me think something was off…

      Nova chewed on her bottom lip and it looked like she was fighting back tears. “I don’t know. Maybe M-Martin picked the lock. He c-can be pretty clever when he w-wants to be.”

      “Do me a favor. Call him now, and I’ll go take a look outside. Okay?”

      Nova gave me a nervous nod, then opened one of the kitchen drawers. She took out a cheap flip phone and started dialing.

      “He w-won’t recognize this number. I left my cell behind when we m-moved. This was just a pr-prepaid ph-phone I p-picked up,” she explained, pressing the phone to her ear.

      Even though I’d said I was going outside to check, I stood still, watching her place the call. Please let the husband pick up the phone and say he has the girl, I hoped.

      What if someone from Northfolk took this child? That thought made me queasy. The last thing I needed was another run-in with a bad dude in Northfolk. But if someone from here did this…then I had to do something to help this woman and her child.

      Internally, I quivered at the thought. Why couldn’t some other officer have taken this call? I wondered, exasperated.

      “P-prick!” Nova snapped the phone back shut.

      “You didn’t leave a message,” I pointed out.

      “He never ch-checks his m-messages,” Nova explained, placing the phone on the kitchen counter.

      I took my own cell out, dialing the number I’d written down in my notebook. After three rings, the phone went to an automated voicemail box.

      “Martin Nesbitt, this is Officer Ellie James with the Northfolk police department. I need to speak with you right away. It’s urgent. Call me back at this number, please.”

      I started for the front door, eager to check outside, but then I stopped in the entranceway. I stared down at a pair of women’s running shoes. They were muddy. “Your daughter’s shoes. Where are they?”

      Nova’s eyes widened as her gaze followed mine. “Sh-she h-had sparkly orange sn-sneakers on when we got h-here yesterday.” Her eyes went fuzzy, her lips curling with anger. “If she put her shoes on, then she must have gone with him w-willingly! But w-why would she do that?”

      “Ma’am, I’m not sure. Hopefully, your husband will call back soon and clear this whole thing up. But for now, I’m going to check outside and then contact my sergeant about your daughter. Can you get some pictures together for me? If we issue an Amber Alert, I’ll need the most up-to-date photo you got…”

      But Nova was shaking her head back and forth, her skin turning paler by the minute. “I don’t have one. N-not even one ph-photo…” she breathed.

      “I know you guys just moved here, but how about a pic on your cell phone?”

      But Nova kept shaking her head. “I can’t believe it. I d-don’t even have one picture of my little girl. How insane is th-that?” She looked spacey now, and once again, I wondered if she might be using drugs.

      “Don’t worry, ma’am. We’ll get one. Maybe from a family member, or friend? Or if you could just pull up one of your albums on Facebook or Instagram…that will work, too.”

      “No,” Nova said, firmly, her eyes zeroing in on mine.

      “No?”

      How could this woman not have any pictures of her own daughter? It seemed completely unfeasible, but if she really was afraid of her husband maybe she did leave everything behind…

      “I wasn’t allowed to have a Facebook profile. I-I don’t even know what I-Instagram is, honestly. M-Martin was j-jealous. Controlling. He’s d-dangerous, I told you…”

      Yes. He was dangerous. That was about the only thing she’d made clear so far. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else—something she wasn’t telling me.

      “Family or friends with pictures…?”

      “I don’t really have any family. And any fr-friends I had…w-well, that was w-way before I married M-Martin.”

      Surely, she had pictures at her house in Tennessee, I considered. But Tennessee was a day’s drive away, and I needed something now.

      “What about pre-school or daycare? Any photos on file they could fax over to my office?”

      Nova


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