Before She Was Found Page 21

  “I think I’ll bring my journal. That way I can write about our trip. I wish I could bring my cat. Do I need to bring money? I have about two hundred dollars saved up.

  “It sounds like whoever wrote these was planning on running away,” Max says as he scans the final scraps of paper.

  “Are they all written by the same person?” I ask.

  Max nods his head. “It looks like it. What do you think is going on?”

  I think about what Violet said about Cora communicating with someone claiming to be Joseph Wither online. “We’ll give the jar to Officer Grady. He’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  “Why is Violet acting so crazy?” Max asks. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit. “But she’s scared. Terrified. She keeps going on and on about Joseph Wither.” I just can’t believe that Violet thinks he’s real. She stopped believing in Santa Claus and the tooth fairy in second grade.

  Max shrugs. “I don’t get it, either, but there are kids in my class who swear that Ouija boards work and that they can summon evil spirits. Maybe she just got caught up in it all.”

  “Maybe,” I say, but I’m not buying it. “At any rate, someone attacked Cora and Jordyn Petit knows more than she is letting on.” My head is pounding and I riffle through my purse in search of some aspirin.

  “This is all Officer Grady’s fault,” I say, wrenching the lid off the aspirin bottle. I tap out two capsules and swallow the pills dry. “He should be out looking for this guy and not harassing a little girl.”

  “You got to admit that Violet has been acting kind of weird lately.”

  “How? In what way?” I ask him, genuinely surprised.

  “It’s embarrassing,” Max says, trying to act like the tough older brother but I can tell he is worried about Violet. “I don’t know, she’s just weird. She’s always drawing in her sketchbook and she and her equally freaky friends have been hanging around the train yard all the time. You know who hangs around the train yard? Tweakers and meth heads.”

  The Primrose Sugar boxcar must be their secret hiding spot. I’m guessing that most of the older teens wouldn’t be able to fit through the door. I barely made it inside. It would be a spot where they could go and be left alone.

  “And you didn’t feel the need to tell me that your twelve-year-old sister was spending time in places like that? Really, Max?” I’m pissed. Max has done some stupid things but I can’t believe he wouldn’t tell me about this.

  “When I saw them I told her that she better go home and never come back. She said that they had been there tons of times, said they were just doing research for their school project and that they wouldn’t come back. Sorry for believing her,” he says sarcastically.

  “Which leads to my next question. What were you doing at the train yard?” I ask, not really wanting to know the answer.

  “Skateboarding,” he says. I raise my eyebrow and shake my head. Max laughs. “I promise. We were just skateboarding. The train yard is the closest thing to a skate park around here. Don’t worry, Mom, I’m not stupid enough to do drugs.”

  I want to believe him but he hasn’t had the best track record when it comes to honesty. Besides that, I don’t trust Clint as far as I can throw him. I decide this isn’t the time to argue.

  All those afternoons I thought that Violet was at Cora’s or Jordyn’s house, were they really at the train yard? It surprises me. I thought the Landry house would be the safest place in all of Pitch. Cora’s mom is definitely what people would call a helicopter mom. Violet said that Cora doesn’t have a cell phone and is only allowed on the computer to do schoolwork. Mara has never let Cora come to our house and all along it should have been the other way around. Why didn’t Mara know where the girls were spending their time? How could she let them sneak out in the middle of the night?

  * * *

  The receptionist, followed by a nurse, finally comes out from the treatment area and I pop up from my seat. “Ms. Crow,” the nurse says. “Come on back.”

  “Can my son come, too?” I ask.

  “Of course.” The nurse leads us back into the treatment area but instead of taking us to one of the examination rooms she opens the door to a small room, empty except for three chairs and a side table with an open box of tissues atop it.

  This must be the spot where families get the bad news from the doctor. The news that their loved one hasn’t survived the car accident, the heart attack, the stroke. I don’t want to go in.

  “Come on in and take a seat,” the nurse invites with a smile that I take as a good sign. “The doctor will be right in to talk to you.” Max and I sit down and wait and after a few minutes I see Officer Grady in the hallway talking to a tall, striking woman dressed in a skirt, heels and white doctor’s coat.

  “What do you think is going on?” Max asks.

  “I have no idea,” I say and we stand as Officer Grady and the woman approach.

  “Beth, Max,” Officer Grady says. He’s got his cop face on.

  “Ms. Crow? I’m Dr. Gideon.” She reaches out to shake my hand, then Max’s. Dr. Gideon appears to be in her midforties and is perfectly put together. Immediately I’m intimidated.

  “What kind of doctor?” Max asks.

  “Of psychiatry,” Dr. Gideon says.

  I look up at Officer Grady lurking in the doorway. “What’s going on?” I ask eagerly. “Where’s Violet?”

  “A nurse is with Violet right now. She’s calm,” Dr. Gideon says. “Please take a seat.”

  “I don’t want to sit. Tell me what’s going on,” I snap, surprising even myself with my tone.

  “Beth,” Officer Grady says mildly. “We’re all here to help Violet.”

  “It doesn’t feel that way.” I sink back into my chair and Dr. Gideon sits across from me. Max stands in a corner, watching, biting his lip nervously.

  “We are in the process of assessing Violet right now and I think it would be a good idea for her to stay with us overnight, so we can do a thorough evaluation.”

  “For what?” I ask in disbelief. “I don’t understand. The EMTs thought she would be just fine.”

  “I asked for the evaluation,” Officer Grady says from the doorway. “I’m concerned about Violet. She ran away from the house, she was hiding in a boxcar, Beth, and then she tried to run away again. She’s clearly afraid of something.”

  “Of course,” I say. “Of course she’s afraid. Someone tried to kill her best friend. Could have killed her.” I pick up my purse from where I set it on the floor next to me and stand. “I’d like to take my daughter and go now.”

  “Ms. Crow.” Dr. Gideon leans forward in her chair. “At the moment Violet truly believes that someone is after her. She says it’s Joseph Wither coming back from the dead.”

  “Did Violet tell you this?” I ask.

  “She did,” Dr. Gideon says. “She knows quite a bit about his history.”

  “That damn project,” I say. “But it doesn’t make sense that Violet would believe he’s real,” I protest. “Some pervert has been contacting the girls pretending to be Joseph Wither. She told me. He lured them to the train yard. Of course she thinks he’s real because he made sure of it.”

  “That could be the case,” Dr. Gideon says. “But nevertheless, she’s scared. I’d like to give her some time to work through what really might have happened at the train yard.”

  Realization washes over me. “You don’t think that someone pretending to be Joseph Wither attacked Cora, do you? You think that Violet did it? You think that Violet stabbed her and is blaming it on Joseph Wither.”

  “No way,” I hear Max say from the corner. “No way.”

  “Beth, there were only five sets of footprints in the dirt next to where Cora was found. Cora’s, the woman who found her, Violet’s.” Officer Grady sits in the third empty chair. I feel penned in.
When I had the chance I should have sold every last possession we owned to get the car fixed so we could go back home to Algodon.

  “Who do the other two sets belong to?” I ask weakly.

  “We don’t know for sure,” Officer Grady says. “But one set is small, consistent with a child’s. The other a bit bigger. Could belong to an adult or a larger child.”

  “Jordyn,” I murmur. “Jordyn Petit was there, too. Violet said that Jordyn Petit and Cora were arguing and Jordyn knocked her down. Violet said that Cora fell against the tracks and hurt her arm. Doesn’t it make sense that if Jordyn pushed Cora she could have been the one to stab her, too?”

  “Mom,” Max says. “What about the jar? I left it in the waiting room.”

  “What jar?” Grady asks.

  “Go get it,” I tell Max. To Grady and Dr. Gideon I say, “I don’t want Violet talking to anyone without a lawyer.”

  Dr. Gideon clears her throat. “My main concern is Violet. I don’t work for the police. My job is to find out what psychologically and medically might be going on with her. I want to keep her overnight, see how she does, and then we’ll go from there.”

  “What if I say no,” I ask. A tear escapes and rolls down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away.

  “You can’t say no,” Officer Grady says kindly but in a way I know he means business. “Believe me, the Pitch jail is the last place you want Violet. This is where you want her to be right now. Beth, she needs help.”

  The name of this god-awful town alone should have been enough of an omen. I want to run from this room, grab Violet and Max and get back in the car and drive as far away from here as I can.

  Case #92-10945

  Direct message dated January 3, 2018,

  via DarkestDoor.com

  JW44:

  Where have you been, Cora? I’ve been checking back here every day. Is everything okay?

  Corareef12:

  No. Everything is NOT okay. Everyone hates me.

  JW44:

  Why? What happened? How did your presentation go?

  Corareef12:

  It was bad. You said I should include Rachel Farmer in the presentation but that was completely screwed up! She was the aunt of a classmate of mine and all it did was make her cry. Then I freaked out and told the entire class that you were real! That you and I talked. They think I’m crazy. Then I slapped Jordyn. Everyone hates me.

  JW44:

  You shouldn’t have done that. We were supposed to be a secret.

  Corareef12:

  I know! I’m sorry. What should I do?

  JW44:

  The first thing you need to do is to tell people you were just joking about talking to me. We could both get in big trouble. Have you told anyone about this website? That we’ve been sending messages? Have you shown anyone the emails?

  Corareef12:

  I haven’t shown anyone. I promise.

  JW44:

  Good. Because if you have, we wouldn’t be able to talk anymore. I’d have to go away forever. Do you understand?

  Corareef12:

  I understand. I promise. I’ll never tell anyone. Please don’t go.

  JW44:

  Forget about Jordyn and Violet—they’re obviously not true friends.

  Corareef12:

  Maybe. But they were the only friends I had and I miss them.

  JW44:

  I’m your friend, Cora. Your only friend. Don’t forget that. I’m always here for you.

  Case #92-10945

  Excerpt from the journal of Cora E. Landry

  Jan. 7, 2018

  I went to school today ready to tell everyone that I was just joking about the whole Joseph Wither thing. That I was trying to be funny and it obviously wasn’t. I was going to say that I was sorry for slapping Jordyn, that I was just having a really bad day.

  At lunch I sat with Violet knowing that she, at least, wouldn’t make me move. I sat down next to her and she gave me half a smile. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. I unwrapped my sandwich but couldn’t eat it. I kept saying to myself, Tell them you were joking about Wither, tell them you were joking about Wither. But before I got the chance, Jordyn started talking.

  “Did you hear about Cora Landry?” Jordyn asked.

  “No, what happened?” Gemma asked in this fakey voice.

  “She moved away. Poof! Just up and disappeared.” Jordyn made her eyes wide and frowned, like she was sad. I felt like throwing up.

  “I wondered why I hadn’t seen her around in a while,” Kaley said like some big mystery had been solved. “Where’d she move to?” I tried not to cry.

  “Probably somewhere with Joseph Wither, you know, because he’s real,” Jordyn said. No one was looking at me. “What about you, Violet?” Jordyn asked. Tears were plopping onto my sandwich, making the bread soggy. “Have you seen Cora lately?”

  I held my breath.

  Violet looked down at her tray. “No, I haven’t seen her.”

  No one talks to me. No one looks at me. Even Violet. It’s like I’m a ghost.

  Thomas Petit

  Tuesday, April 17, 2018

  “I swear, I didn’t do anything to Cora,” Jordyn tells Thomas again after they visit Tess in the skilled care facility. It was a quick visit. Thomas had planned on telling Tess about what happened to Cora at the train yard, but after the upsetting meeting with Cora and her family, Thomas couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Tess didn’t seem to notice anything was amiss. She chatted enough for all of them.

  Jordyn buckles herself into her seat. “We were both mad at each other for a while, but we made up. I don’t know why her sister said all those mean things.”

  Thomas thinks about this. It’s true that kids argue all the time. Get in little spats here and there. Maybe Cora’s sister was just being emotional, and rightly so. Their family had been through a lot. And wouldn’t Cora’s mom have refused to allow them to visit if Jordyn had treated Cora badly? But then there was the prank that Jordyn admitted to wanting to play on Cora. He doesn’t know what to believe anymore. Besides, Cora seemed genuinely happy to see Jordyn. If Jordyn had been as awful as Kendall said, would she have acted that way?

  “I think Cora was really glad you came,” Thomas says as he pulls out of the parking lot.

  “Yeah,” Jordyn says but there is no conviction in her voice, only sadness.

  “What is it?” Thomas pulls his eyes away from the road to look at Jordyn. “I think Cora really likes the gift you gave her, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Jordyn moves to turn on the radio and Thomas puts his hand over hers just before it reaches the controls.

  “Tell me,” he insists.

  “It’s just that...her face...” Jordyn’s eyes brim with tears and Thomas feels a sense of relief. Finally, Jordyn is expressing some real empathy for her friend.

  “It looks bad now, but once it heals I’m sure she’ll look like herself again,” Thomas says. “Try not to worry about that. The hospital has really good doctors.”

  “I wish...” Jordyn begins. “I wish we never went out the other night. I wish we hadn’t brought that stupid knife. I wish we had just stayed at Cora’s.”

  “I know, honey,” Thomas says and pats Jordyn’s leg. “You learned a hard lesson. Just remember that for the next time you go on an overnight.”

  “Grandma is probably never going to let me spend the night at anyone’s house ever again.” Jordyn groans.

  “You’re probably right,” Thomas says, but it’s halfhearted and filled with more affection than anger.

  The remainder of their drive back to Pitch is silent and as they arrive home it’s to find a police car parked outside the house. It’s not an unusual sight. The police often park on Main, the busiest street in town. Thomas pulls the truck into the dri
veway and as they get out the officer that first interviewed Jordyn steps from her cruiser and strides toward them.

  An uneasy feeling settles in Thomas’s chest. “Hello,” he greets Officer Wilson with suspicion. “Do you have a few more questions for Jordyn?”

  “Actually, it’s more than that, Mr. Petit,” she says, then pauses as if trying to find just the right words to say next.

  “What’s going on?” Thomas asks. This time more forcefully, his mind spinning with questions.

  Jordyn stands close to Thomas and remains silent.

  Something is wrong, Thomas tells himself. “We just came from the hospital. Saw Cora. Jordyn and Cora had a nice visit, didn’t you, Jordyn?” Jordyn nods.

  Officer Wilson shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot. “I’m afraid I’m here to bring Jordyn into the station.”

  “For more questioning?” Thomas asks. “That’s no problem. Jordyn’s happy to answer any more questions you have. We all want to find out who did this.”

  “I’m sure that’s true,” Officer Wilson says. Her voice is cold, which concerns Thomas even more than the gun in her holster. “I’m here to arrest Jordyn for the attack on Cora Landry.”

  “What?” Thomas laughs. A bark of disbelief. Jordyn’s eyes flick between the two of them. She does not understand what is happening.

  “We have a witness who says they saw Jordyn push Cora down at the train yard as well as some other evidence,” Officer Wilson says.

  Thomas looks at his granddaughter, who strangely is not protesting the claim. “There has to be some kind of mistake,” he says.

  “I’m afraid it’s not a mistake. I have a warrant to search your home.” Officer Wilson hands Thomas a piece of paper.

  Thomas thinks of the book bag shoved up into the fireplace. They can’t know about that, he tells himself. “Jordyn, go inside.” Thomas points toward the house. “Right now.”

  “Come here, Jordyn,” Officer Wilson says, her voice steely. Jordyn looks between Officer Wilson and her grandfather, uncertain as to what to do.

  “Who is this witness?” Thomas asks. “Jordyn already told you everything she knows. She wouldn’t hurt anyone.”