Before She Was Found Read online

  I know it’s impossible that he had anything to do with what happened to Cora but what if he’s arrested, anyway? We’re the new people in town. Max—with his skateboard and his long, dark curly hair, and a half smile that people think is a smirk—looks like he could be dangerous. But he isn’t.

  He’s a kind, loving boy. Ever since Max’s dad and I divorced nine years ago when he was seven he’s tried to be the man of the house—taking out the garbage, making sure the doors are locked at night. It wasn’t until just before we moved here that he started getting in trouble and now since he met Clint and Nikki that he’s become so secretive.

  When we finally get to town Officer Grady slows the car and asks me if I want to stop at home first. I hesitate. I need to get Violet home and showered and in her own clothes but I also have to get to Max. I don’t know if I trust the cops to follow my order not to let anyone question Max without me there.

  “We better go straight to the police station,” I decide. A few minutes later he pulls up in front of the station and I look down at Violet’s feet. She’s only wearing the yellow socks that the nurse gave her. I can’t haul her into the police station dressed the way she is.

  “Maybe you want me to take Violet to a relative’s or friend’s house. The police station really isn’t a place for kids.”

  I shake my head. “We don’t have family in town. And Violet’s best friend is Cora, so that’s out. I guess I can call a neighbor.”

  Violet grabs my wrist. “I want to stay with you,” she says.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask in surprise. “I thought you liked going over to Jordyn’s house.”

  Violet shakes her head, lips pressed tightly together. “I just don’t want to. Please don’t make me go.”

  “You seem pretty upset, Violet,” Officer Grady says. “Did something happen with Jordyn?”

  “No, I just want to stay with my mom,” Violet insists. She’s lying. At least partially. I can tell because Violet’s voice has taken on the babyish tone she uses when she knows she’s in trouble and wants to get on my good side. I want to make her tell me what happened but say nothing because Officer Grady is watching us both closely.

  “I won’t leave you, honey.” I kiss the top of her head but she keeps a viselike grip on my arm. “Thanks,” I say to Officer Grady, “but she’s been through a lot today. I think she should stay with me.”

  The last time Jordyn was over at the house, just a few days ago, the girls seemed like they were getting along fine. They holed themselves up in Violet’s room and didn’t come down for two hours. Not even when I told them I had just thrown some cookie dough in the oven.

  When they finally reemerged I asked Violet why Cora didn’t come over, too. The three of them are as thick as thieves. Violet said that Cora was busy but I caught the look on Jordyn’s face when I mentioned Cora’s name. Like she had just bitten into something that’s gone bad. I meant to ask Violet about it later but forgot.

  Now I wish I would have. A million times over I’ve seen that look on the faces of the girls I knew as a kid. The nasty smirks that slid into place just before stabbing you in the back.

  Case #92-10945

  Conversation dated November 12, 2017,

  via DarkestDoor.com

  Corareef12:

  Help! I’m working on a school project and trying to find out more information about Joseph Wither. He lived in Pitch, Iowa, in the 1940s and people say that he killed several young girls because his girlfriend was grounded from seeing him. I can’t find any actual proof. Does anyone know anything about this?

  4leafclover:

  That’s quite the school project! I never had an assignment like that in school!

  Lazydazey:

  Never heard of him.

  Dutchman007:

  My grandpa grew up around Pitch and told us stories about Joseph Wither. Said he burned down his family home and then ran away. Girls started showing up dead by the railroad tracks and rumor was that Joseph Wither was behind it. My grandpa said that most people thought he killed himself or ran away and he had nothing to do with the dead girls.

  Corareef12:

  Thanks! That’s what I’m beginning to think. We can’t find any proof of anything—just lots of stories. Plus, people around here are saying that Wither is still killing girls but he’d be like ninety!

  4leafclover:

  Corareef12, just how old are you? You really shouldn’t give personal info about where you’re from here...

  Beth Crow

  Monday, April 16, 2018

  Following closely behind Officer Grady, Violet and I make our way up the steps and into the police station, a squat, one-story redbrick building with the words City of Pitch Police Department stenciled in orange letters across the large plate-glass window. The shell of a pay telephone hangs between a set of double doors and a wooden bench.

  “Go ahead and take a seat for a minute,” Officer Grady says, gesturing to the wooden bench littered with newspapers and magazines. “I’ll go check on the kids and come get you so we can talk.”

  We sit on the wooden bench and wait. I wonder if I should call a lawyer right now, just in case, but I don’t know any attorneys and I sure as hell can’t afford one.

  “Mom, what do they think Max did?” Violet asks.

  “Nothing. It’s just a misunderstanding,” I reassure her. “We’ll get it straightened out and go home.”

  The front entrance opens and a woman walks in with a young girl that I recognize as Nikki’s little sister. The woman is wearing an egg-yolk-colored waitress uniform from a twenty-four-hour café located on the highway south of town. Her frosted hair is scraped back in a tight bun and a thick layer of foundation and lipstick do nothing to hide the fatigue on her face.

  “You’re Max’s mom,” she says. Her heavily mascaraed eyes settle on me. It’s an accusation. There is no friendliness in her tone and I know this isn’t going to go well.

  “Yes, I’m Beth Crow,” I say and both Violet and I rise from our spots on the bench. I try to keep the defensiveness out of my voice. “And you are...?”

  “Lorena Dobric, Nikki’s mother. What kind of trouble has your son gotten Nikki into this time?” she asks. The little girl eases away from her mother as if hoping to avoid any crossfire.

  “Hold on,” I say. “Let’s just wait and see what they tell us. The officer just went in back to get Max.”

  “I know what they’ll tell us. That your son and that other boy, Clint, have gotten Nikki in trouble.” Lorena leans over the counter and calls out, “Anybody there? I want to talk to someone now! I want to see my daughter!”

  “Mom?” Violet asks uncertainly.

  “It’s okay,” I tell her. I hand her my phone. “Go sit down and play a game on my phone. Don’t worry.” Violet reluctantly moves toward the bench, sits down and begins tapping at the phone’s screen.

  Nikki’s sister gravitates toward Violet. “Where are your shoes?” I hear her ask as she joins Violet on the bench.

  “Hello? Anyone back there?” Lorena says more loudly. “Where is my daughter?” She turns back to me. “I don’t have time for this. I have to go to work.”

  A woman wearing a police uniform with the name Wilson stitched across the front pocket comes into the room. Her blond hair is braided into a long rope that hangs down her back. “We’ll be with you in just a minute, folks,” she says. “Please be patient.”

  “Where is my daughter?” Lorena asks again, not budging from her spot in front of the counter. “I want to see her now.”

  “Take a seat,” the officer says with forced patience. “We’re in the middle of an attempted murder investigation. I’ll call you when we’re ready.”

  Her words slam into me like a fist. Attempted murder. “I’d like to see my son, too,” I say. “He’s not under arrest, is he?” Next to me Violet
is tugging on my sleeve. “Just a minute, Vi,” I tell her.

  To the officer I say, “I want to see my son. Now.” My voice holds more courage than I feel. My heart is banging in my chest now. I have visions of Max handcuffed and sitting in a cell somewhere in the building and it’s all I can do to not climb over the barrier and search for him.

  “Settle down,” the officer says with exaggerated calm that makes me want to yank her braid. “He’s not under arrest and no one questioned him. He wasn’t talking, anyway.” She disappears through another door and Violet pulls at my arm again.

  “Violet, just wait!” I snap just as Officer Grady reappears.

  “Come on back, ladies,” he says, holding the door open so we can pass through. “Last door on the right.”

  I rush down the hallway with Violet at my heels and come to a stop in the open doorway of a conference room. Max, Nikki and Clint are slouched in chairs arranged around a long, scarred wooden table that fills most of the small room.

  “Max, are you okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” he says. He looks tired, bewildered and a bit scared but no worse for wear. His curls have lost some of their spring. A sure sign that he’s been running his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit he’s had since he was little.

  Coming up behind me, Lorena starts right in on Nikki. “Where the hell were you all night? You know I have to get to work and I can’t leave your sister alone.”

  Nikki’s eyes, already swollen and red, fill with new tears but she doesn’t respond. I see Max reach out and link a finger with Nikki’s.

  “Is Nikki free to go?” Lorena asks.

  “We’d like to ask each of them a few questions about this morning,” Officer Grady says, “but we need your permission before we do so.”

  “No,” Lorena cuts him off. “We’re leaving. Nikki, let’s go.” Nikki looks uncertainly at Officer Grady, who nods his head. “She can go, but we would appreciate setting up a time to talk.”

  “Was she drinking? Doing drugs?” Lorena asks sharply.

  “No,” Officer Grady says.

  “Were they speeding? Breaking any laws?”

  “No, they were not.”

  “Then we’re leaving. There’s nothing for us to talk about.” Lorena latches on to her daughter’s arm, lifting her from the chair, and begins to move to the doorway. “Misty,” she says to her other daughter. “Let’s go.” Nikki shrugs off her mother’s grasp and dashes from the room.

  “Can you please tell me what’s going on?” I ask once the door closes behind Lorena and the girls, taking most of the air with them. The room suddenly feels claustrophobic, stifling.

  “A witness saw a car near the train yard this morning matching the description of the one Max and his friends were in. A sheriff’s deputy saw the car out on the highway and pulled them over. Clint here got smart-mouthed and the deputy ended up bringing the three of them into the station.”

  Max speaks for the first time. “Mom, what’s going on? What happened at the depot?” He glances over at Violet, who is watching, taking everything in. “Why is Violet dressed like that?”

  “No one told him?” I ask in surprise.

  “No,” Officer Grady says. “We’re investigating a crime. We wanted to find out if they knew anything first.”

  “Someone attacked Violet and Cora Landry at the train yard last night,” I tell him and his face first registers shock and then anger.

  “Who?” he asks, looking over to Violet, who is looking anxiously around the room.

  “A witness says it could be you and your friends,” says Officer Grady.

  Max opens his mouth to say something but I jump in first. “Don’t say a word,” I order. To Officer Grady I say, “Listen, I said no one was going to question my son and I mean it.”

  Officer Grady holds up his hand to silence me. “Violet’s friend is in pretty bad shape. Someone hit her so hard that he fractured her skull.”

  “Eff that,” Clint says, standing and squeezing behind my chair toward the door. “You can’t pin that on me. I’m out of here.”

  Officer Grady continues as if Clint hasn’t spoken. “He knocked the teeth out of her head. We got a guy back at the train yard looking for them.” Clint freezes in the doorway and the scowl slips from his face and Max looks like he’s going to throw up.

  Though Officer Grady speaks in a low, measured voice, a red, angry flush has creeped up his neck. “Cora’s at the hospital in surgery right now with a plastic surgeon who is trying to put her face back together again, so if you can tell me where you were between midnight and 1:00 a.m., I can cross you off my list and focus on finding the person who did this.”

  A look passes between Max and Clint. Oh, my God, I think, they can’t prove where they were last night. There’s no one who can vouch for their whereabouts.

  “You’ve got nothing?” Officer Grady’s voice rises.

  “Mom.” Max looks at me for help.

  “Just tell him where you were,” I urge. “Just tell him the truth. This is important.”

  “We were just driving around,” Clint says, all of his earlier bluster gone.

  “Near the train yard?”

  “No,” says Clint.

  “Yes,” Max says at the same time.

  “Which is it?” Officer Grady demands, staring at Max. “Yes, you were at the train yard where a twelve-year-old girl was attacked. Or no, you weren’t.”

  “He’s trying to tell you.” I raise my voice. “Give him a chance.”

  “Stop it.” Violet buries her face in her hands. “Please stop it. It wasn’t them.”

  I reach across the table and tenderly pull her fingers from her face. “What did you say?”

  “It wasn’t them. They didn’t do it,” she whispers.

  Officer Grady takes a step toward us and this time I hold up my hand to stop him.

  “Violet, do you know who hurt Cora?” I ask, still holding her hands in mine. She nods, hot tears plop onto my knuckles. “Who? Who was it?”

  She doesn’t speak. The only sound in the room is her faint crying. Even Clint looks uncomfortable.

  “Please, Violet,” I say, dipping my head so I can see her face. She can’t bring herself to look at me. “Honey, this is important. If you can help Cora, you need to.” I lift her chin and wipe her tears away with my fingers. “Violet, it’s okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  “I told you—it was Joseph Wither,” she whispers.

  “Honey, you know that he isn’t real, right?” I ask. I’m thinking that it might be some pervert pretending to be him or maybe Violet is just confused.

  Clint laughs and I shoot him a look that silences him.

  “Why do you think it’s Joseph Wither?” Officer Grady keeps his gaze on Violet. “Could it have been someone who said he was Joseph Wither, Violet?” he asks.

  Violet shakes her head. “No, it was him. He came, just like he said he would.”

  Officer Grady scratches at his neck.

  “What?” I ask. “You talked to him? Who is he?” I look to Max, who shrugs his shoulders.

  Again Clint laughs and this time Max says, “Shut up, Clint.”

  Violet gnaws at her thumbnail. “He is, too, real,” she says. “Cora showed me messages from him.”

  “Violet,” Officer Grady says but she refuses to look his way. “Violet, this is important,” he says firmly. “Look at me.” Violet looks at him with something I’ve seen more and more in my daughter lately: defiance. “Someone might have told you he was Joseph Wither, but he wasn’t.” Violet’s eyes fill with tears and she swipes them away angrily. “Now, did you see someone attack Cora? Can you tell me what he looks like?”

  Violet presses her hands to her ears and shakes her head. “He’s real,” she whispers.

  “He’s the bogeyman.” Clint laughs. “
The monster under your bed. Was he under your bed, Violet?” he asks snidely.

  Max has had enough. He’s out of his chair in a flash and shoves Clint, pinning him to the nearest wall. “I told you to shut up,” he hisses. The two boys are nose to nose, but Clint has about fifty pounds on Max. Right now the only thing going for Max is the element of surprise and his anger.

  “Jesus, Max,” Clint says. “Don’t freak out. I’m just joking around.” Max looks like he wants to punch the smirk off his face and part of me wishes he would.

  “You saw it. He assaulted me,” Clint says, pushing Max away.

  “You’re being a jerk,” Officer Grady tells him. “You get off on teasing little girls? Go sit out front and wait for your mom to come and pick you up. If you leave before I talk to her, I will arrest you.”

  “Asshole,” Clint mumbles under his breath as he moves toward the door. “Freak,” he says, directing the word toward Violet.

  “He’s real!” Violet shouts after him. Spit flies from her mouth and she kicks at him but misses.

  “Violet!” I exclaim.

  Clint pauses and narrows his weasel eyes at her, the sneer returning to his face. “Did you go looking for him? Did you really think he was going to take you with him? If you believed that, then you really are stupid.”

  Violet jumps up from her chair and lunges at Clint. Thankfully, Officer Grady is there to stop her. “Out front, Clint. Now,” he commands and Clint stalks out, leaving a stream of curse words trailing behind him. Max looks at his sister as if she’s lost her mind.

  Officer Wilson comes into the room holding a set of handcuffs, sending Violet into another round of hysterics.

  “You’re upsetting her even more,” I cry.

  “I got this, Wilson,” Officer Grady says. Officer Wilson hesitates. “I mean it, put the cuffs away. You can go now. I’ve got it covered.”

  Officer Wilson looks like she wants to argue but I’m guessing that Grady has a few years of seniority on her. Reluctantly she returns the cuffs to her hip. “Looks like a 10-96 to me,” she says, eyeing Violet.