Finding Emma Read online

  The van behind her honked again, this time longer. Megan put the Jeep in drive and pulled ahead. She was boxed in on all sides in the drive-thru. No way to escape, no way to get away from the woman with her child, the child that looked so much like Emma, yet wasn't her.

  ****

  Megan pulled into her driveway and she realized she'd forgotten all about Peter. She stared down at the now cold coffees beside her and sighed. As if this day could get any worse. Stuck in the drive-thru, she'd managed to choke out her order for coffee. She hid her face at the window, wordlessly handed the money for the coffee and took off before without her change. She'd then driven around, mindless to her surroundings. At one point, she pulled over to close her heavy eyes. She was empty of tears. Empty of emotion.

  As she walked in the door, the silence slapped her in the face. Megan slipped off her shoes and her bare feet slapped against the floor as she walked to the kitchen. She placed the coffee on the island and read the note left by Peter:

  ‘Broken promises hurt. Actions speak louder than words.’

  Megan buried her head in her hands. Little by little, their marriage was falling apart. The fact he'd leave her a note like this said a lot. Too much. Once upon a time, it wouldn't have been an issue, he would have understood. Not now. She wadded up the paper and tossed it into the recycling can beside the garbage. She glanced at the coffee, unwilling to drink it cold but also unable to heat it up.

  The phone rang. Megan closed her eyes and tried to ignore its incessant ringing. She walked into the living room and sank into the chair closest to the large bay windows. With her head leaned back against the cushion, Megan relaxed her body, another step her counselor suggested she try. Empty herself of all thoughts, will the tension to release out of her shoulders, imagine her feet grounded and she pushed all the negative energy out, starting from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

  Her counselor said something about a tree with roots and focusing on the depths of those roots, but that seemed too 'new agey' for her. Her mother wanted her to pray, but all her prayers went unanswered, so she settled for the middle. She took a deep breath, counted to five before she released it. Her body deflated as the air escaped out of her lungs.

  As she sank into the chair, she opened her eyes and focused on a picture on the wall ahead of her. Emma. The Christmas before she was taken. Her cute little chubby cheeks with the dimple in the middle.

  Detective Riley, the officer in charge of Emma’s case, had warned them that her cheeks would have thinned out since that Christmas, not appear as chubby, but the dimples would never leave. That wasn’t the only change they should expect. Those adorable curls would have been cut off, her hair would be short. She might’ve even been made to look like a little boy, for the first bit. Megan shuddered at the thought. Most kidnappers will do what they can to alter a child’s appearance right after they’ve taken a child so that the general public would pass them over. They would be looking for a little girl, not a boy. But it had been over two years now and her hair would have grown. No matter how she looked, Megan knew she would recognize her daughter.

  Like I knew it was her today?

  Megan shook her head as shame flooded through her. Her heart squeezed as her lungs constricted. She gasped as she realized what she did today. Her counselor warned her about this. She had to stop looking for her daughter. There were consequences to her actions. She knew she scared that little girl today and probably terrified the mother. She acted like a madwoman. Deranged. Out of her mind. Out of control.

  Megan bowed her head. That's what was happening to her. She was losing her mind. Everything her mother, Peter and even her best friend Laurie were worried about was coming true. She couldn't tell Peter, he would be livid. With her, for doing this, again. She could call her counselor, but she already knew what she'd be told. Medication.

  Megan shook her head in denial. She would not be medicated. The lack of memory of those first few months after Emma had disappeared were a fog, because of the medication. She wouldn’t go through that again. Losing her child was not an illness. Trying to find her, never giving up, that wasn't something to medicate.

  The phone rang again. She counted each ring, waiting for it to stop. She knew it could be Peter, but she couldn't speak to him. Not right now. Not after what happened this morning. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and hide.

  Without Emma, she was a shell. A shell of a mother, of a wife, of a woman. No matter how hard she tried to maintain the calm and collected persona everyone knew and trusted, it was all a ruse. After today, she wasn’t sure if she could keep it up.

  Megan reached for the blanket she’d knit last Christmas and wrapped it around her. She stared out the front window, mesmerized by the sway of the grass in the gentle breeze. She imagined the feel of the breeze in her hair, the tickle of a dandelion held in the tight grip of a toddler as it brushed against her cheek.

  A sob ripped through Megan’s body. She’d tried so hard not to think about that day.

  *****

  The persistent knocking startled Megan and she stumbled off the chair and made her way to the front door.

  “I know when you didn’t answer the phone something was wrong.” Laurie Dunlop, her best friend, pushed past her and headed to the kitchen.

  “I hate to say this girlfriend, but you look like crap,” Laurie held out a cup of coffee she’d brought and shoved it in her hands.

  Megan curled her fingers around the hot mug. She was so cold.

  “Why aren’t you dressed?” Laurie dug into her purse she’d placed on the counter and slapped down the Kinrich paper.

  “I am.” Megan refused to look at the paper and instead glanced down at the jeans and black t-shirt she wore. What was wrong with her outfit?

  Laurie shook her head. “Meg, I love you and I know today is a difficult day for you, but you cannot wear that to the assembly.”

  Megan sagged against the counter and stared at Laurie in shock. She’d forgotten all about the assembly. The coffee sloshed around in the cup as she brought her shaking hands to her lips.

  “You forgot, didn’t you?”

  Megan bit her lip. This assembly meant so much to her. She’d specifically planned it for today on Emma’s birthday. She wanted Emma to be in everyone’s thoughts. How could she have forgotten?

  “That’s not like you. Did something happen?”

  Megan glanced over at the clock. Only a half hour before she needed to be at the school. She shook her head and headed towards the stairs.

  “Meg, are you okay?” Laurie followed her and paused at the foot of the stairs.

  Megan bit her lip. She couldn’t tell her. Not yet. She couldn’t afford to fall apart and that’s what would happen. Tears welled in her eyes before she blinked them away.

  Her shoulders sagged as she dragged her body up the stairs. She had ten minutes to pull herself together. Ten minutes to reassemble herself into the strong woman everyone believed her to be.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Megan reached for the cold metal handle and stopped. Her hand shook like an addict on withdrawal. Get a grip, woman. She’d faced larger giants than the pint-sized ones beyond the gymnasium door. One. She took a breath. Two. The muffled roar of the crowd as it echoed throughout the empty corridors of the school surged towards her. An explosion of panic threatened to overwhelm her as tiny dots clouded her vision.

  Not now. Please God, not now. Not again.

  Over one hundred children waited inside the gymnasium for her. This was not the time for a panic attack to hit. Megan took a deep breath, her nostrils flared as she wrestled to calm herself. She reached for the handle again, only to have her hand slip. It was drenched in sweat. Dammit, her pills were at home and there wasn’t enough chocolate in her purse to still her fears.

  If she didn’t step through those doors, she’d hate herself forever. One more thing to add to the guilt. Through gritted teeth she yanked open the door and plastered a smile on her face. Ji
ll Maguire, Meadowvale Elementary’s principal, stepped forward and pulled her into a crushing hug.

  “I saw today’s paper. I’m amazed at your strength,” she whispered.

  Strength had nothing to do with it. The attempted abduction plastered all over the news last night only fueled the fire and determination in Megan’s heart.

  She wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs as a round of applause filled the gymnasium. Megan gave a slight wave to the kids who watched her with bright eyes.

  She counted the steps to the podium. Counting de-stressed her—at least that’s what her counselor said. It also made her look like a fool in a crowded room when she forgot to count under her breath.

  As the noise in the room receded, Megan cleared her throat and opened her notebook. She had already warned Jill about her opening. This wasn’t the time for fairytale stories and pats on the back. There was a sexual predator in their community and she refused to stand on the sidelines while he tried to kidnap another girl.

  “Hi guys.” Megan waved as she looked down over the podium. “It’s good to see you again. Johnny, you should leave Becky’s hair alone.” She knew these kids. They lived on her street, took part in her Walk Home Alone program and invited her daughters to their birthday parties.

  “Last night, a man came into our town and tried to take a girl away from her family. They were out shopping and the girl ventured away from her parents in the store and was approached by a stranger.” She looked over the crowd and realized every child looked in her direction.

  “We all know what to do when a stranger approaches, right?”

  “Yell for help,” the cry echoed through the gymnasium. Megan fist pumped the air at the loud shout.

  “What if that stranger wants to take you someplace?” The excitement level in the gymnasium sizzled and she loved the feeling. The kids were listening.

  “Don’t go!” The audience cried out in unison.

  “Do you know what that little girl did, even though the man told her he was a police officer? She yelled for help and her parents came running right away. But the man got away. And he’s out there, somewhere, waiting for another boy or girl to trust him. I’m here today to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  The room burst into applause while Megan choked back a sob. Tears pooled in her eyes and she blinked past them. When the noise level quieted down, Megan walked away from the podium and stepped closer to the crowd.

  She held up the town’s newspaper for all to see. It was good to know she wasn’t alone in this fight.

  “You all know my story. But let me make it real for you.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, gathered at her chin and then fell to the floor. Megan swiped the tears away from her eyes before she continued.

  “The headline for today’s paper holds a picture of my youngest daughter. You’ve all seen this before. Today is Emma’s birthday. It’s also the day she was taken from us, by another stranger in our town. Emma didn’t have the opportunity to yell for help. But you do. If I could have one birthday wish for Emma, other than for her to come home today, it would be for each and every one of you to yell as loud as you can if you ever meet a stranger who wants to take you somewhere with them without your parents’ permission. That would be my wish.”

  *****

  Megan stepped into Emma’s room and was barraged by emotions she’d tried so hard to keep at bay. It was here, in her baby’s room, that the walls surrounding Megan’s heart crumpled. To everyone else, but her husband, Megan was a pillar of strength. A fighter. Only Peter knew the truth. Here, in Emma’s room, Megan was only a mother with a broken heart.

  What would she look like today?

  Megan crossed the room to Emma’s single bed and stroked the picture of her youngest daughter on the nightstand. Emma's sweet smile captured her heart.

  Is her hair still as fair? Megan picked up the frame as tears welled up in her eyes. Would she still look like me as a child or would she have outgrown that, like Alexis when she turned five?

  She glanced down at the envelope clenched in her hand. Her eyes burned as she read the bold cursive writing that contrasted against the white paper.

  Happy Birthday Emma. Love, Daddy.

  A car door slammed outside. With a sigh, Megan stood from Emma’s bed and edged toward the window. Peter was home early. She hugged herself in an attempt to warm up. From the moment she’d slipped out of bed, her body felt like it had been encased in a solid block of ice. It wore her down. The assembly had drained her today. More than she cared to admit.

  Tired of being strong for everyone else in her life, of trying to prove she was okay and not a basket of nerves, Megan needed some time alone, time to wallow in her self-pity and loneliness before her girls came home and she had to be strong. Again.

  Megan leaned her head against the window and watched Peter enter the house. It would get easier, she was told, by those who didn’t understand. Easier for whom? For those who forgot? For those whose child was still safe in their arms? Life didn’t get easier. It wasn’t fair.

  The heavy tread on the stairway announced her husband's presence.

  “You got her a card,” Megan said, her voice a mere whisper against the silence in the room. She counted the steps it took for Peter to walk to her. Her body relaxed as his arms wrapped themselves around her. Her body trembled as the sobs she worked so hard to reign in escaped.

  Megan's breath caught in her throat as Peter took the card he’d left in the room from her hand. He leaned to the side and placed the card down on the bed. Face up. Megan couldn’t look away from it. A chill had settled deep within, freezing her body until the flow of her blood slowed. She waited for his warmth to seep into her bones.

  “The little girl on the card reminded me of Emma. I had to buy it.” The roughness of his voice filled the room. One hand stroked her back.

  Megan pulled her head back and saw tears fall from her husband's crystal blue eyes. She could count on one hand the amount of times she’d seen him cry. She touched a tear with her finger and used the pad of her thumb to brush away the rest.

  “It’s perfect.” She rested her head against his chest again. She stood there for what felt like years but could only be minutes before Peter took hold of her arms and leaned back to look in her eyes.

  “How was the assembly?”

  “It was ... okay. Hard, but I dealt with it. After what we heard on the news last night, I couldn’t reschedule. Not today. Even if all I did was remind those kids of the steps they can take if something ever was to happen. It was worth it.” She stepped away and stood by the bed.

  “Worth killing yourself over?” A sad smile covered Peter's face.

  “That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think? I’m not killing myself. I may be tired, but I just need more sleep. I’ll be fine.”

  “Until you fall apart. I just want you to be careful. Last year ...” Peter took a step towards her but Megan backed away.

  “I’m fine.”

  When Peter’s shoulders slumped, she knew he didn’t believe her. She expected him to argue, to insist that he knew better, that he knew the signs. When he didn’t, she shrugged her shoulder. Some victories didn’t deserve bragging rights.

  “About this morning...” She hated the small arguments that became a regular routine in their busy lives.

  “I figured something came up.” Peter rubbed his hands down Megan’s arm. “You’re freezing. Why don’t you go have a bath?”

  Megan sank down onto Emma's bed. She knew she should tell him about the little girl this morning, but she couldn’t. Instead, she smoothed the covers, puffed up the pillow and fluffed the stuffed lamb that rested on its side.

  “I will in a minute,” She waited until Peter's footsteps left Emma's room before her shoulders hunched over and she bowed her head. Her eyes remained dry. Two years’ worth of tears had already been spilt in this room.

  “I miss you, baby. I'm so sorry I lost you. I should have paid better attention.”

&nbs
p; *****

  Megan pulled back the curtain and searched the sidewalk outside.

  “They’ll be home soon. Relax. I made some tea,” Peter crossed the living room floor and handed her a hot steaming cup.

  She gave him a brief smile before she turned her attention back to the view outside.

  “Why haven’t they called? If they’re running late, they know to call. I should have picked them up.” Megan bit her lip.

  “Megan. Stop. They’ll be home,” Peter sat down in the corner chair, picked up his latest homebuilding magazine and flipped through the pages.

  She took a sip from her tea before setting it down on the coffee table. How could Peter be so relaxed?

  After another glance outside, Megan headed to the front door. She’d just wait for them outside, maybe head towards the school and hopefully meet them somewhere in between. They can’t be that far away, right?

  “Where’re you going?” The annoyed tone in Peter’s voice stopped her.

  “I’ll wait for them outside.” She placed her hand on the doorknob, opened it and listened for the computerized voice to announce that the front door was open. Even after two years of listening to the installed alarm system, Megan still worried it would one day stop working.

  “You need to let them grow. They’re old enough now to walk home by themselves.”

  This was the first time since the inception of her Walk Home Alone program that her children had no adult supervision. Megan counted to three. One. Deep breath. Two. This wasn’t working. Three. She needed to devise another method of calming. She didn’t want to go back to the psychiatrist.

  “Wait for me. I’ll walk with you,” Peter said as the tell-tale creak in the chair let Megan know he’d stood up. She also heard the sigh in his voice.

  She pulled the door open and held it for Peter. He knew her so well.

  *****

  “So Mrs. Temple walked us to the corner but then we saw a little puppy all by himself so Hannah wanted to see if it was lost but then I told her we were late as it is.” Alexis, their nine-year-old, skipped beside Peter as Megan held her oldest daughter Hannah’s hand. They’d met the girls at the end of the block. It was all Megan could do to keep her emotions together and not lose it.