Walleye Junction (42 page)

“Has someone told him?” she asked.

“Maybe, but I doubt he understands. If he says something, do yourself a favor and ignore it.”

“Easier said than done.”

Francine fingered the cross at her throat. “This is a hard day for both of us.”

Emma watched Lucy's father from behind the windshield. As usual he was leaning heavily on his cane. The woman who'd buttressed him so efficiently at the church reception was standing nearby. Emma hadn't realized until that moment that the human buttress was none other than Nathan's fiancée Cynthia. Cynthia had stationed herself next to her intended, but Nathan had his hands wedged deeply in his pockets and was turned slightly away from her. As far as Emma could tell, it didn't seem like Nathan wanted to be anywhere near Cynthia.

Francine's voice was as crisp as new bills. “Emma, it's time.”

Several of Francine's friends came forward as they stepped out of the car. Dot Whitaker stood apart from them. She wore dark sunglasses and an oversized hat. As they made their way along the main walkway, Emma risked a quick peek at Lucy's grave. The flowers she'd left were still there. Ahead of her, Caleb's white head bobbed up and down, glowing like a halo in the late morning sun. He shuffled along, talking to Nathan while Cynthia tottered after them in her high heels. Beside Emma, her mother sniffed quietly, occasionally needing a supporting arm, but for the most part making her own way to her husband's final resting place.

As Emma stood above her father's open grave, a sense of vertigo played games with her balance, and the smell of newly cut earth pinched her nose. She imagined the gravedigger's blade slicing through the soil, cleanly dissecting everything in its path. The sides of the hole were sheer, almost polished smooth. When the others bowed their heads in prayer, Emma kept her eyes level with Caleb's. His jaw hung loose and tiny, thread veins snaked around his nostrils like flames. He held her stare, his lips quivering nervously, his words ready to spring like arrows from a bow. He shifted his weight, muttering something only his neighbors could hear. Emma watched shocked ripples move through the sea of heads. Someone put a hand to Caleb's arm, but he only grunted defiantly as he hobbled over to stand next to Emma.

“Emma, have you seen Lucy?” he said, his voice quaking. “I've been looking for her everywhere. She runs off sometimes.”

Emma put a hand on his arm to steady him. This was unexpected. She looked across the gravestones, seeing if she could pick out Lucy's, but a tree stood in the way. Her secret was safe.

“We can look for her together if you like,” she said.

Caleb scanned the crowd. “Why are we here? Who died this time?”

“My father,” said Emma.

“Oh, I'm very sorry to hear that,” he said, drawing out his words. “Philip Long was a good man.”

“Yes, he was,” said Emma. She took the handkerchief he offered and dabbed the tears from her eyes. “I'm going to miss him.”

 

23

Macy answered her mother's phone call as she drove toward the Walleye Junction municipal cemetery. Gina was sitting in the passenger seat nursing what she'd referred to as a Ryan-sized hangover. She wore a pair of sunglasses that covered half her face.

“Calm down, Mom,” said Macy, switching to speakerphone. “I can't understand a word you're saying.”

“Someone tried to snatch Luke from the day-care center at the gym,” said Ellen.

The right front tire hit the curb, and Macy almost lost control of the car. Next to her, Gina shook herself awake.

“Is Luke okay?” asked Macy.

“He's absolutely fine. It's the adults who are upset. The manager called the police. I told them to speak to your old colleague Brad Newman. He's on his way.”

Macy pulled over at the next turnout and climbed into the passenger seat while Gina went around. Seconds later Gina was at the wheel, and they were heading toward Route 93 with the sirens wailing.

“Mom,” said Macy. “We're on our way back to Helena now. I know you're upset, but you need to tell me exactly what happened.”

“Just a sec. Luke wants to say hello.”

“Mommy?”

Macy started crying. Gina grabbed hold of her hand and squeezed it hard.

“Hi, baby,” Macy said, steadying her voice. “Are you having a good time with Granny?”

“I made a drawing. It's for you.”

“I bet it's beautiful.”

“A puppy. I drew one.”

“You drew a puppy for me?”

“Yes.”

“I will be home soon,” said Macy. “Will you show it to me when I get there?”

“I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too.”

Macy was left listening to silence.

“Mom?” she said.

“I'm here,” said Ellen. “The police are pulling up outside now.”

“I'll want to speak to them. What do you know so far?”

“A young woman came into the gym claiming to be you and said she'd come to pick up Luke from the day-care center. The woman at the desk became suspicious when she failed to produce any identification.”

“What did she look like?”

“Eighteen to twenty years old, blond, white, and very thin. She was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and jeans.”

Macy's mind went into overdrive. “It could have been Nicole Davidson.”

“Shouldn't she be in Chicago?”

“They'll have security cameras at the club,” said Macy. “Tell them to look at the feed. They should be able to send me the link.”

“Did she say anything in her last letter about coming back to Montana?”

“I have no idea. I haven't read it yet.”

Macy searched the side pocket of her bag for the letter. She ripped the envelope open and scanned the text.

“Macy, are you still there,” asked Ellen. “Brad's here now. He wants to speak to you.”

Macy's heart sank. It was all there in black and white. Nicole wanted to come live with them in Helena. She was miserable in Chicago and wanted to be with her little brother.

A man's voice came over the speakerphone.

“Macy? It's Brad Newman. I understand you're up in the Flathead Valley. How you holding up?”

“I've been better. You need to look at the video footage for confirmation, but I'm pretty sure we're looking for Nicole Davidson.”

“Ray's daughter?”

“I have a letter from her. She wanted to come back to Helena so she could be with her little brother.”

“Christ,” said Brad. “They're just bringing up the video now.”

“Would you recognize her?

“Depends on how much she's changed,” said Brad. “It's been a while since I last saw her.”

“What do you see on the video?”

“Hooded sweatshirt and sunglasses. Difficult to say.”

“See if you can get a photo to show to the receptionist,” said Macy.

“I'm on it. Someone at the office will have something on file. I'll call you back when I know more. Meanwhile, don't worry. Luke and your mom are in good hands.”

Macy watched cars pull to the side as Gina sped through the traffic crowding Route 93. Nicole's letter had been in her hands for over a week.

“I should have read the damn thing when it arrived,” said Macy.

Gina gave her a sharp look. “Don't beat yourself up. Even if you had read it, you couldn't have known the girl would do something as stupid as this.”

“Nicole is troubled, but I never believed she was dangerous.”

“If she figured out where your mother's gym is, she probably knows where you live.”

“I'm afraid that may well be the case,” said Macy.

Macy's phone rang. She held it to her ear.

Brad sounded out of breath. “It was definitely Nicole.”

Macy pictured Nicole as a child. She'd been so open and full of life. Ten years on and there was a good chance she'd be charged with attempted child abduction.

“You have to be absolutely sure,” said Macy.

“Ray's old personal assistant sent us some photos she had on file. The receptionist at the day-care center confirmed that it was Nicole.”

“I'm really worried about her, Brad. She must have been desperate to try something like this. Put out an APB and track down her friends and classmates. We'll need to speak to her therapist in Chicago.”

“Will do,” said Brad. “We're in touch with her mother. Nicole ran away two days ago.”

“I should be back in Helena in a couple of hours,” said Macy. “Have some units check my mother's house thoroughly. I'm worried that Nicole may have figured out where we live.”

Macy read through Nicole's letter in its entirety. It held no clues as to the girl's whereabouts. If Nicole was as clever as her father, she could keep Macy guessing for years. Macy sat back and closed her eyes. She had a feeling it was going to be a very long ride home.

 

Sources

An incredibly well-researched article entitled “The New Heroin Epidemic” was published in
The Atlantic
in October 2014. Though it focused on my home state of West Virginia, it opened my eyes to what's been going on throughout America for the past fifteen years. I followed the sources, eventually finding an equally enthralling piece of journalism that was published in the
Los Angeles Times
in November 2012
.
“Legal Drugs, Deadly Outcomes” made it clear that many Americans were dying after being overprescribed powerful opiate-based painkillers by their doctors. I knew immediately that this was the story I wanted to tell.

http://graphics.latimes.com/prescription-drugs-part-one/

www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2013/08/20/doctors-licenses-medical-boards/2655513/

www.youtube.com/watch?v=r8MaITKJJEI

www.miheadlines.com/2014/08/04/partyers-weekend-rave-vow-projectp-happen/

www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2015/01/rural-americas-silent-housing-crisis/384885/

www.theatlantic.com/features/archive/2014/10/the-new-heroin-epidemic/382020/

 

ALSO BY
KARIN SALVALAGGIO

Burnt River

Bone Dust White

 

About the Author

KARIN SALVALAGGIO
received a master's in creative writing from Birkbeck at the University of London. Born in West Virginia and raised in an Air Force family, she grew up on a number of military bases around the United States. She now lives in London with her two children.
Burnt River
is her second novel.

 

Visit Karin at
www.karinsalvalaggio.com
. Or sign up for email updates
here
.

    

 

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