Without a Trace

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 cleared her throat. “Lily isn’t in pr-preschool yet. M-Martin wanted me to homeschool her. Can you believe that? Homeschool! M-Me! I don’t even b-believe in that crap…” she snapped, looking angry again. Her arms hung loosely at her sides, but she was shaking. As helpless as she seemed, I honestly felt the same.

“Keep trying to call him, okay? And this time leave a message,” I urged, heading out to the front yard.

I walked around the front and back of the property. There was a backdrop of woods behind the house, but the trees were thin and sparse, so it was easy to see through the wooded space. I called out, “Lily!”, but instantly felt silly as my own voice bounced back in my face.

It was eerily quiet out here. And as I walked around the entire house and yard space, I saw no signs of a child. My stomach churned. Something feels so wrong about this…

After going around three times and circling through the woods, I combed the ground in front of the house.

If Lily was hiding, she would surely have come out by now.

No pictures. Only new clothes and toys. It was like a child hadn’t even been here, I thought, spinning around in circles. I closed my eyes and pictured my niece, Chelsea. Her room was like a landmine of toys, my sister’s house a jungle gym of playthings. But Nova’s house was scrubbed clean, not a toy or stray article of clothing in sight.

But she did say they just moved here, I reminded myself.

There was a blue Celica parked at the side of the house, which I assumed belonged to Nova. I peered in through the passenger window. There was no little girl hiding inside.

And no car seat in the vehicle either, I noted. How did she get Lily here without a car seat?

No toys or clutter in the backseat. Nothing. Almost like the child doesn’t even exist, I thought, curiously.

My eyes floated across the field to the Appleton Farm. If I remembered correctly, Clara Appleton owned all this land. She was probably the one renting out the house to Nova.

Maybe the neighbor saw something…anything that could help me find this faceless child…

CHAPTER THREE (#u1a357202-3b9e-5d54-a5c7-2e64ba3b0826)

The Neighbor

CLARA

Cradling a cup of coffee in my hands, I watched Officer Ellie James through the dining room window as she stood in front of the cabin next door.

I heard Nova Nesbitt scream this morning. But still, I did nothing to help her.

My new tenant had sent me the first month’s rent and a security deposit last month, and she had arrived just yesterday as planned. It was late when she got in, much too late in my opinion, but maybe she got lost or turned around on her drive into town.

I’d been tempted to go over and talk to her, to introduce myself, but I’d refrained. Landlords are known for being nosy. I didn’t want to be like that. But it did feel strange having a neighbor again. With my oldest daughter in Texas, I’d grown accustomed to the quiet and lonesome life on the farm. Knowing that another human being was only a few strides away was a strange, yet welcome, feeling.

Last night, I’d watched the lights in the cabin pop off and on, wondering what Nova was up to. And then this morning, I’d been awake, toasting bread like I did every morning, when the jarring scream had ripped the air.

And now the police are here…

As the owner of the property, I probably should have gone over there and seen if something was wrong. That would have been the normal thing to do. Any sort of terrible thing could have happened related to the house—a fallen fan, a rusty nail…

But the last thing I wanted was contact with the police.

Hot coffee sloshed out the sides of my cup, dribbling between my fingers and down my arm. My mind drifted across the field to the old rickety barn at the back of the property. It used to house cattle and horses, back when Andy was here. But now it was empty. Well, except for one thing…

My hands shook uncontrollably until I lost my grip on the mug completely. It hit the floor with a dull thud just as I saw the young officer crossing the field straight toward my house. I wrung my now empty hands together, trying to steady the tremors.

The milky brown stain at my feet spread out like a halo around the unbroken mug. It reminded me of blood. Dark, thick, unrelenting blood…

Smoothing my favorite flannel shirt, I took a deep breath then went to the front door to meet her. Why does she want to talk to me?