The Missing (14 page)

‘Those two gentlemen standing outside her door, the ones dressed in hospital whites, they’re psychiatric orderlies,’ Lomborg said. ‘They know how to restrain patients, if it comes to that.’

‘That’s fine, but I don’t want them or anyone else looking through the window. It might scare her.’ Darby took out her microcassette recorder. It was a small model, easily concealed inside a shirt pocket, and held a brand-new ninety-minute tape.

‘I know you’re anxious to get in there,’ Lomborg said, ‘but please understand this: If anything happens to you, the hospital will not be held liable. Are we clear on that point?’

Darby nodded. She pressed the RECORD button and tucked the recorder in her shirt pocket.

It seemed to take a long time to reach the door.

Gripping the cold steel handle, Darby fished for some scrap of memory, some thought or image she could use to keep her anchored against the rising tide of fear. The summer when she came back home for the first time, Sheila told her there was nothing in the house that could hurt her and held her hand as they walked through the house together. Her mother wasn’t here, and nobody was going to hold her hand. Nobody was holding Carol Cranmore’s hand.

Darby took in a deep breath and held it as she opened the door.

Chapter 30

Rachel Swanson’s body was drenched in sweat. Her eyes were clamped shut and she was whispering to herself, as if saying a prayer.

Darby walked toward the bed, taking slow, quiet steps. Rachel Swanson didn’t stir, didn’t move. When Darby reached the side of the bed, she leaned in close to make out the words caught between Rachel’s pinched, wheezing voice:

‘One R L three R L.’

Rachel was chanting the words she had written on her arm.

‘Two L R two R L R R S L – no R, the last one is
R.’

Darby placed the tape recorder on the pillow. She waited a moment, listening as Rachel Swanson counted all the way to six and then started over.

‘Rachel, it’s me. Terry.’

Rachel Swanson’s eyes flew open, focused. ‘Terry, oh thank God you found me.’ She tugged at her restraints. ‘He’s got me. He’s got me good this time.’

‘He’s not here.’

‘Yes, he is. I saw him.’

‘There’s no one in here but you and me. You’re safe.’

‘He came to me last night and put on these handcuffs.’

‘You’re in a hospital,’ Darby said. ‘You… accidentally attacked a nurse.’

‘He injected me again and before I fell asleep. I saw him look around my cell.’

‘You’re in a hospital. There are people here who want to help you – I want to help you.’

Rachel moved her head up off the pillow. Her bloody and nearly toothless smile made Darby want to scream.

‘I know what he’s looking for,’ Rachel said, her arms and legs straining against the restraints. ‘I took it from his office. He can’t find it because I buried it.’

‘What did you bury?’

‘I’ll show you, but you’ve got to find a way to help me out of these handcuffs. I can’t find my handcuff key. I must have dropped it.’

‘Rachel, do you trust me?’

‘
Please,
I can’t… ’ Rachel started crying. ‘I can’t fight him anymore. I don’t have anything left.’

‘You don’t have to fight anymore. You’re safe. You’re inside a hospital now. There are people here who are going to help you get better.’

Rachel Swanson wasn’t listening. She eased her head back against the pillow and shut her eyes.

You’re not getting anywhere. Try something else.

Darby slipped her hand inside Rachel’s, the woman’s bony fingers lifeless and rough against her skin.

‘I’ll protect you, Rachel. Tell me where he is, and I’ll find him.’

‘I told you, he’s
here.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘I don’t know his name.’

‘What does he look like?’

‘He doesn’t have a face. He keeps changing his face.’

‘What do you mean?’

Rachel started shaking.

‘It’s okay,’ Darby said. ‘I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.’

‘You were there. You saw what he did to Paula and Marci.’

‘I know, but I’m having trouble remembering. Remind me what happened.’

Rachel’s bottom lip quivered. She didn’t answer.

‘I saw the letters and numbers you wrote on your wrist,’ Darby said. ‘The letters are directions, aren’t they? L equals left, R equals right.’

Rachel opened her eyes. ‘It doesn’t matter if you go right or left or straight, they all lead to dead ends, remember?’

‘But you found a way out.’

‘There’s no way out of here, there are only places to hide.’

‘What do the numbers mean?’

‘You’ve got to find the key before he comes back. Look under my bed, I might have dropped it there.’

‘Rachel, I need –’

‘FIND THE KEY!’

As Darby pretended to look around the floor, she wondered if Rachel would reveal more information if she wasn’t in her restraints. Lomborg would never allow it – not without him being in the room, not without the orderlies present.

‘Did you find it, Terry?’

‘I’m still looking.’

Think. Don’t let this opportunity slip away. Think.

‘Hurry, the door’s going to open any minute,’ Rachel said.

No one was standing outside the door; no one was even near the door. As much as she hated the idea, Darby wanted to go consult that stuffy prick Lomborg and see if he had any ideas.

‘I can’t find it,’ Darby said.

‘It’s here, I just dropped it.’

‘I’m going to get help.’

Rachel Swanson bucked against her restraints.

‘DON’T LEAVE ME ALONE WITH HIM, DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE ME ALONE AGAIN.’

Darby grabbed her hand. ‘It’s okay. I won’t let him hurt you, I promise.’

‘Don’t leave me, Terry, please don’t leave me.’

‘I won’t leave you. I’m not going anywhere.’ Using her foot, Darby pulled a chair over and sat down. Think.

Okay. Rachel thinks we’re still trapped, so let’s go along with the delusion.

‘Who else is in here with us?’

‘There’s no one left,’ Rachel said. ‘Paula and Marci are dead, and Chad…’ Rachel started crying again.

‘What happened to Chad?’

Rachel wouldn’t answer.

‘Paula and Marci,’ Darby said. ‘What are their last names? I can’t remember.’

No answer.

‘There’s someone else down here with us,’ Darby said. ‘Her name is Carol. Carol Cranmore.’

‘There’s no one named Carol in here.’

‘She’s sixteen. She needs our help.’

‘I haven’t seen her. Is she new?’

‘Where is she?’

Think, don’t blow it.

‘I heard her cry out for help,’ Darby said, ‘but I can’t see her.’

‘She must be on the other side. How long has she been down here?’

‘A little over a day.’

‘She’s probably still sleeping. He always makes them sleep when they first get here, puts drugs in the food. The doors won’t open for awhile, then. There’s still time.’

‘What’s he going to do to her?’

‘Is she tough? Is she a fighter?’

‘She’s scared,’ Darby said. ‘We need to help her.’

‘We need to get to her before the doors open. You’ve got to get me out of these handcuffs.’

‘What happens when the doors open?’

‘Get me out of these handcuffs, Terry.’

‘I will, just tell me –’

‘I’ve helped you, Terry. All those times I showed you where to hide, all those times I protected you – now it’s your turn to help me.
Get me out of these goddamn handcuffs right now.’

‘I will. Let’s call out to Carol and tell her what to do.’

Rachel Swanson stared at the ceiling.

‘Carol needs our help, Rachel. Tell her what to do.’

The tape ended with a loud click. Rachel didn’t move, didn’t look; she just kept staring at the ceiling.

Darby flipped the tape over and started recording.

It didn’t matter. Rachel Swanson refused to speak.

Chapter 31

Darby was exhilarated and scared, running on fumes of hope. She pushed the door open, wanting to find a pen and paper, afraid that if she didn’t write everything down she’d lose it. She reminded herself she didn’t have to rush. The whole conversation was caught on tape.

The crowd outside Rachel Swanson’s room had doubled. Darby scanned the faces, looking for Coop – there he was, at the far end of the hallway, talking on the phone behind the reception area. He hung up just as she reached him.

‘That was the lab,’ Coop said. ‘Leland just got a call from Banville. A package with Dianne Cranmore’s name was found on the stairs of a house in Belham, about twenty minutes away from where Carol lives. The return address has Carol’s name on it. As far as I know, nobody saw who dropped it.’

‘What’s in the package?’

‘Don’t know yet. It’s on the way to the lab.’

‘I want you to head back to the lab and wait for the package. Ask Mary Beth to do a search for two more names – Paula and Marci. I don’t know their last names. Tell her to limit the search to New England.’

‘And what are you going to do?’

‘I need to talk to Lomborg.’

‘Be nice,’ Coop said.

Lomborg’s mood had not improved. He crossed his arms as he listened to her idea about temporarily removing Rachel Swanson’s restraints.

‘There is absolutely no way in hell I’ll allow that,’ Lomborg said.

‘What if we move her to a psychiatric facility? We’d be better equipped there, and you could watch her over a monitor.’ Some rooms, Darby knew, were equipped with cameras to watch patients.

Lomborg looked like he was about to take the bait, but Dr Hathcock was shaking her head.

‘We can’t move her until the sepsis is under control,’ Hathcock said. ‘She seems to be responding to antibiotics, but that could change. The next forty-eight hours are critical.’

‘Carol Cranmore might not have that kind of time,’ Darby said.

‘I hear you – and God knows I’d do anything in my power to help you find that missing girl,’ Hathcock said. ‘But my first and primary responsibility is my patient. I can’t allow her to be moved until the sepsis is under control – and I can’t allow her to be taken out of the restraints. She’s hooked up to IV lines. In the mental condition she’s in, she’d probably rip them out.’

‘Could we take them out for a short period of
time? Say, an hour?’ Darby was desperate, willing to clutch at any possibility.

‘It’s too risky,’ Hathcock said. ‘We need to get the sepsis under control. I’m sorry.’

Alone inside the woman’s bathroom, Darby splashed cold water on her face until her skin was numb.

Darby ran her wet hands against the cool porcelain edges of the sink. During the first year of Mel’s disappearance, Darby often touched things, their textures a way of reassuring herself that she was alive. As she dried off her hands, she prayed for Carol to be clever, to find a way to survive.

Coming out of the bathroom, Darby rounded the corner, heading for the elevators. Mathew Banville was in the waiting room. Standing next to him, dressed in a sharp suit, was Special Agent Evan Manning.

Chapter 32

Time had been kind to Evan Manning. His short brown hair was a bit grayer, but he was still lean and fit, his face still seriously handsome.

What Darby remembered clearly, even after all this time, was the quiet intensity he carried in his face. Evan Manning, she saw, was looking at her that way right now.

Banville did the introductions. ‘Darby, this is Special Agent Manning from the Investigative Support Unit.’

‘Darby,’ Evan said. ‘Darby McCormick?’

‘It’s nice to see you again, Special Agent Manning.’ Darby shook his hand.

‘I don’t believe this,’ Evan said. ‘You still look the same.’

‘How do you two know each other?’ Banville asked.

‘I met Special Agent Manning when he worked the Victor Grady case,’ Darby said.

‘The auto mechanic who abducted those women back in eighty-four?’

‘That’s him.’

‘Eighty-four,’ Banville said. ‘That would make you, what, about fourteen?’

‘Fifteen. I knew two of Grady’s victims.’

‘He killed one of them, didn’t he? Shot a young girl in a botched abduction, if I remember correctly.’

‘He stabbed her.’ In a flash Darby saw her foyer walls splashed with Stacey Stephens’s blood. ‘As for the other women, we’re pretty sure Grady strangled them.’

‘How did you know they were strangled? The police never found the bodies.’

‘Grady recorded some of his… sessions with his victims. On a couple of the tapes, the women made sounds that were consistent with someone being strangled – at least that’s what I read in the reports.’ Darby turned to Evan for confirmation.

‘Grady kept the audiotapes in a lockbox hidden in his basement,’ Evan said. The heat from the fire damaged most of the recordings.’

Banville nodded, satisfied by the explanation. ‘Special Agent Manning is the new division head of the ISU’s Boston office. AFIS alerted him early this morning when Rachel Swanson’s fingerprint was identified. He’s offered us access to his labs, anything we need.’

‘I understand you were in there talking to Rachel Swanson,’ Evan said. ‘Did she tell you anything useful?’

‘She mentioned the names of two more missing women. We’re looking into that right now. The whole conversation’s right here.’ Darby held up the tape recorder. ‘What about this package that’s on the way to the lab?’

‘It’s a padded mailer,’ Banville said. ‘I have no idea what’s in it.’

‘I’m going to head over. Rachel’s done speaking to me at the moment.’ She turned to Evan. ‘Why was the FBI alerted about Rachel Swanson’s fingerprints?’

‘I’ll explain everything when we get to the lab. My car’s in the garage. Can I offer you a ride?’

Darby looked to Banville for direction.

‘I’ve already filled in Agent Manning on what we’ve found,’ Banville said. ‘I’ll meet you at the lab as soon as I finish up here.’

Chapter 33

‘How long have you been working as a criminalist?’ Evan asked after the elevator doors shut.

‘About eight years,’ Darby said. ‘I did an internship in New York for about a year, and when the Boston lab had an opening I applied for the job and here I am. How long have you been working in Boston?’