Tracey slipped off of her lap and positioned herself to pray. She whispered, “God, if you can hear me, thank you for saving me. I want to be healthy.” She spoke quickly. “Thank you for my necklace, too.” She reached for the necklace, and held the cool gold tightly in her fingers. Mummy opened her arms, and Tracey went to her, willingly, thankfully. In the back of Tracey’s mind, she wondered why her own mother hadn’t wanted to keep her safe from the toxins. She wondered if her own mother had really loved her at all.
Molly arrived home, let the dogs out, and went straight to her office to review the notes, drawings, and other clues that she had compiled. A stream of sunlight illuminated her desk, highlighting the drawings in her notebook. She wrote a list of each item in her notebook, and tried to decipher the clues. Her cell phone rang three times before she reached for it, and was met by a deep, unfamiliar voice.
“Mrs. Tanner?”
“Yes?”
“This is Sergeant Moeler from the Germantown Police Department. Officer Brown asked me to follow up on a few leads that you might have regarding the disappearance of Tracey Porter.” “Okay,” Molly replied, curiously. They agreed to meet that afternoon. Molly confirmed her address and then picked up the phone to call Cole. “Hey, you!” she said, happy to hear his voice. “How was your run?” he asked. “Okay. I ran into Newton, and we talked for a while.” “Did you go to the police station?” he asked. “Yes,” she said. “Did you give them the necklace and the candy wrapper?” Molly was silent, fiddling with her pen, trying to figure out how to answer without lying. “Molly? Did you give them the stuff you found?” he repeated more sternly. “I went there,” she said coyly.
“Mol, I thought we agreed that the best thing to do was turn that stuff in. You can get in so much trouble!” His voice sounded flat-out angry.
“Well, I went there with every intention of turning it in!” she insisted.
“Mm-hm.”
“I did! I was going to, and then when I got there, Officer Brown was…I don’t know…annoying me, and I got to thinking—what if I gave them the stuff, and they just filed it away? You know how they let cases just die out? And then I thought, well, maybe there’s more that I’m supposed to know—to gain—from the necklace and wrapper. Maybe I just haven’t looked hard enough yet.”
“Give it in, Molly. This is no time for bullshit. This is real trouble. You’re withholding evidence!” Molly waited to hear if his voice would soften. It didn’t. “Molly, what do you think will happen when they find out? They’ll go, ‘Oh, it’s Molly Tanner, no problem, we’ll overlook it!’”
“No!” she protested. “But…I just thought that a few more days wouldn’t hurt. Maybe I’ll track her down today, maybe tomorrow. Who knows? But something didn’t feel right,” Molly paced her office. “It felt like a betrayal to give it to them. They aren’t even doing anything to find her!” she said too loudly.
“Do what you want, Molly, but just think of Erik and me, okay?” Cole asked, his every word biting. “What will we do while you sit in jail wondering how you could have been so stupid?”
Molly’s bravado deflated. She knew he was right, to an extent. “Cole, they don’t know I have it. They could never know how long I’ve had it!” she pleaded. “When I turn it in, I’ll say that I just found it. Besides,” she took a deep breath, and mumbled, “the fingerprints would be gone now anyway.”
“What?”
“The fingerprints,” she raised her voice. “They’d be gone now anyway! I’ve touched it! It’s been in my bag! I screwed that up!” The admission weighed heavily on her. She had screwed up—again.
“Great!” he fell silent.
The silence was worse than when he had been yelling at her. Molly closed her eyes tightly, her tentative voice sliced through the silence, “I think I saw Kate Plummer disappear today.”
“Tell me,” he said flatly.
Molly told him the details of the vision, which he promptly told her was probably transference—that she had taken the details that she already knew, coupled with the guilt that she still carried for Amanda’s death, and that her mind had run with them.
Molly rolled her eyes, Always the fact man.
“I saw her dress. If I could find out what she was wearing when she disappeared, that would tell me if it was her or not,” she retorted.
“And how does that help find Tracey?” he snapped.
“I don’t know!” she said, exasperated. “Look, I’ve got to go. The police are sending someone over. I’ll call you later.” She hung up the phone before the tension could grow any thicker. She stared at the phone, wondering how she’d ever be able to repair the damage that she was creating in her marriage and knowing she wouldn’t let another child’s life end if she could help it.
Molly pushed aside her frustrations with Cole, and mentally raced through her to-do list:
1. Look up Kate’s clothes when missing.
2. Who was in the cellar?
3. Call Hannah.
Molly turned on her computer, and, while it booted up, she walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water. She leaned against the sink and looked outside where Stealth and Trigger sat by the back door. She let them inside, and Stealth pushed his body against her leg as he walked by. The comforts of home settled around her, making her feel sad for Tracey, for Kate, and for Amanda. Their safety had been abruptly stolen away from them.
The phone rang, and Molly immediately hoped it wasn’t Cole, then hated herself for the thought. Reluctantly, she reached for it, cursing herself for choosing a decorative phone instead of one with caller I.D. “Hello?” “Molly Tanner?” The voice sounded like a teenage girl’s. “Yes? Who is this?” “Someone wants you to know there’s a guy who can tell you what happened to Kate Plummer.” Molly’s heartbeat quickened. “Who is this?” she asked anxiously. “What guy?” “I don’t know,” the girl was irritated, rushed. “I just know that I’m supposed to tell you that, like, you have to find the guy.” “Where? Where do I find this guy? Who are you?” Molly pleaded desperately.
“She paid me to tell you this,” she said in an annoyed, exasperated teenage fashion. “I don’t know where to find the guy. I don’t know anything about this,” the girl spat her answers. “She said, like, he would know about Tracey, too.” “Who paid you? I’ll pay you twice as much to tell me who paid you!” Molly said eagerly. “No, I can’t. I want no part of this. I…I have to go—” “Wait!” Molly yelled. “Just tell me who told you to call.”
The caller covered the phone. Molly heard muffled voices. When the caller returned to the phone, she asked, “Who is Kate Plummer?”
Molly sighed, deflated. The girl was merely a pigeon—a messenger. “Who paid you? Please tell me!” she pleaded. “A child’s life is at stake.”
“What?” Molly heard fear in the girl’s shaky, unsure voice.
“A child has been abducted—Tracey Porter. If you know anything, please, please tell me. This is life or death!”
“Jesus, I’ve heard about that girl,” she said. “I saw her on the Missing Children flyer that came home from school. Fuck! I don’t want no part of this!”
“Wait! Who told you to call me?” Molly begged. “She may be involved. I may be able to save the girl! I’ll pay you! I’ll do anything you want!”
“Shit! Fuck this shit!” The girl yelled distantly, as if holding the phone at arm’s length. She pulled the receiver close again, “I don’t know, alright!” she yelled. “Some woman! That’s all I know!”
Molly’s heart sank with the resounding click. She yelled, “Goddamn it! Give me a fucking break!” Molly stared at the phone as if it were evil, “Goddamn you! Help me find her! This is goddamn bull shit!”