The Missing

Leland gave her the number. Darby wrote it down on her forearm.

A phone rang in the background. ‘I’ve got to take this call,’ Leland said. ‘Call me back if you find out anything.’

Darby called her mother. The phone kept ringing. She hung up, wondering if she was too late. A cold nausea gripped her as she ran home.

Chapter 47

The nurse shut the door to Sheila’s bedroom. Her mother was inside, fast asleep. Her lungs made a sick wheezing sound as she struggled to breathe.

‘I had to increase her morphine level,’ Tina said, ushering Darby away from the door. ‘She’s in a lot of pain.’

‘Did she see the news?’

The nurse nodded. ‘She tried calling you and couldn’t get through.’

‘My cell phone is broken. I called from a pay phone. Nobody picked up.’

‘The explosion knocked down some of the phone and power lines – at least that’s what they’re saying on the news. She knows you’re okay. A friend of yours stopped by and told he I forget his name. Are you going back out? I can stay a while longer. It’s not a problem.’

‘I’m in for the night.’

Darby folded her arms and leaned back against the wall. She was afraid to move away from her mother’s door. Walking away now, Darby felt she was saying good-bye.

‘I don’t think it will happen tonight,’ Tina said.

It took Darby a moment to gather the courage to ask the question. ‘When, do you think?’

Tina pursed her lips. ‘Any day now.’

After the nurse left, Darby wrote a note to her mother saying she was home and taped it to the night-stand where she kept her glasses and pills. She kissed her mother on the forehead. Sheila didn’t stir.

Darby headed into the shower. Standing under the hot water, she reviewed the things Rachel had said under the porch and at the hospital. Rachel had used the word fighting several times. I can’t fight him anymore, Rachel had said. What had she said about Carol? Is she a fighter? Is she tough?

Fighter. Fighting. Was that the key? How would Traveler know they would fight back?

Did he pick them up from battered women’s shelters? No. Those women predominantly didn’t fight back. What then? Some place, they all had to co

When the water grew cold, Darby toweled off, threw on a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt and headed downstairs to the kitchen. She checked the phone. It was working. She put on her jacket and took the cordless and her pack of cigarettes out to the back deck. The rain was coming down harder now, drumming against the roof.

She went through two cigarettes before dialing the number for Rachel’s mother. A man answered the phone.

‘Mr Swanson?’

‘No, this is Gerry.’ His voice was terribly quiet. Darby was sure she heard someone crying in the background.

‘Can I speak with Wendy Swanson? I’m calling from the Boston Crime Lab.’

‘Hold on.’

A thin, trembling voice came on the line: ‘This is Wendy.’

‘My name is Darby McCormick. I wanted to call and tell you how sorry –’

‘Are you the one who found my daughter underneath the porch?’

‘I am.’

‘Did you talk to Rachel?’

‘Yes, ma’am, I did. I’m sorry for your loss.’

‘What did Rachel say? Where was she all this time? Did she tell you?’

Darby didn’t want to lie to the woman, but she didn’t want to upset her even more. Darby needed Wendy Swanson to answer some questions.

‘Rachel didn’t say much. She was very sick.’

‘I saw the news story, the video footage, and I didn’t once think it was Rachel. The woman you found looked nothing like my daughter. I didn’t even recognize her. And I’m her mother.’ Wendy Swanson cleared her voice several times. ‘This person who took Rachel, what did he do to her?’

Darby didn’t answer.

‘Tell me,’ Rachel’s mother said. ‘Please. I have to know.’

‘I don’t know what happened to her. Mrs Swanson, I know this is a difficult time for you. And I wouldn’t be calling you if this wasn’t important. I need to ask you some questions about your daughter. The questions may sound odd, so please try and bear with me.’

‘Ask anything you want.’

‘Was Rachel ever in an abusive relationship?’

‘No.’

‘Would she have told you if she was?’

‘My daughter and I were very close. I knew all about Chad’s background, but he never hit her – he never even raised his voice. Rachel wouldn’t have put up with any of that. She had nothing but positive things to say about Chad. I think his ex-wife was a bit of a nut.’

‘Was Rachel ever assaulted by anyone?’

‘No.’

‘Did she ever tell you about being stalked? Was someone following her?’

‘No. If something like that ever happened, she would have told me. Rachel and Chad had a great relationship. They were going to get married. Rachel was… She was so smart, so hardworking. She paid her own way through college. She was taking out loans to go to law school. She never asked for anything, never got into any trouble. She was just a solid, well-grounded person.’

Wendy Swanson broke down. She spoke through her tears. ‘The police told me that when someone goes missing, if they’re not found in the first forty-eight hours that usually means they’re dead. After the first year, I started to accept the fact that Rachel wasn’t coming home, and that I may never find out what had happened to her. And then early this morning I get a phone call from a friend who works at the state lab and she says that Rachel was found in Massachusetts – was found alive. Alive. After five years. I got down on my knees and thanked God. And then I call to find out what hospital Rachel is in only to be told she’s dead. Rachel was alive all this time and I find out and now she’s dead and I didn’t… I didn’t get to talk to her. I didn’t even get a chance to hold my baby’s hand and tell much I love her and how sorry I am for giving up on her. I didn’t even get to say good-bye.’

‘Mrs Swanson, I’m –’

‘I can’t talk now, I have to go.’

‘I’m very sorry for your loss.’

Wendy Swanson hung up. Darby squeezed the phone and, without realizing it, looked up at her mother’s bedroom window.

Chapter 48

Darby stared out at puddles in what used to be her mother’s garden, where Sheila spent her time before she got sick. As she smoked, she thought about Traveler’s victims. Evan Ma

A copy of every work email was automatically forwarded to her Hotmail account so she could access information from the road. Darby put out her cigarette and went inside, heading upstairs to check her computer. There was a message from Mary Beth regarding the crime scene photographs.

Mary Beth always took two sets of photographs – one using film, the other digital. Digital pictures were not admissible as evidence because they could be doctored. Mary Beth always took them so investigators had copies for their files.

Darby was in the process of reviewing them when she heard coughing. She poked her head out into the hallway and saw the thin crack of light at the bottom of her mother’s bedroom door. Sheila was awake, watching TV.

When Darby eased open her mother’s door, she could see pictures of the blast site reflected in her glasses.

‘What happened to your face?’

‘I slipped and fell. It looks worse than it is,’ Darby said. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Better, now that you’re here.’ Sheila turned down the volume on the TV. ‘Thank you for leaving the note.’

Darby sat down on the bed. ‘I tried calling, but the phone lines were down. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.’