Before She Was Found Page 9

  Beth Crow

  Monday, April 16, 2018

  When I return to Violet’s room, Officer Grady is in the doorway, waiting for me. I peek around his large frame, which fills the space. The nurse has finished collecting the blood samples, the wayward strands of hair, the bits of evidence that may have been left behind.

  Beneath the warming blanket, lies Violet. She is on her side, facing the wall, curled up like a wooly caterpillar. The IV tube snakes out from beneath the blanket and up to the IV bag, where a clear liquid drips slowly into my daughter’s bloodstream. She looks so small, so fragile.

  “I just don’t understand,” I say, coming up to Officer Grady. “Joseph Wither is the name of a person that the girls did a school project about. Why would Violet say that a make-believe man attacked them?”

  “Boy,” Grady says. “Joseph Wither is a boy. Was a boy,” he adds, seeing the question on my face. “He hasn’t been seen by anyone in decades.”

  “I don’t have time for this. I need to get back to my daughter.”

  “Ms. Crow, please,” he says. “I have to talk to her. We need to find out what happened. Cora Landry isn’t in good shape.”

  I think of Cora and how bad her face looked. Someone tried to kill her; there’s no other way to look at it. “Okay,” I finally say. “You can talk to her, but I want to be there.”

  Officer Grady looks like he wants to argue with me on this point but quickly understands that there is no chance of changing my mind and nods in agreement.

  “You can stay while I talk to her but I’m going to ask that you don’t interrupt. Some of the questions I ask may be upsetting but I have to ask them. Like I said, time is ticking. The longer that monster is out there, the more difficult it will be for us to catch him. As far as I know, Violet is the only witness who can tell us what happened.”

  We step into Violet’s room together and I look to the nurse. “She seems more alert,” she says. “She had a drink of water and asked for you.” I feel a pang of regret for running out of the room when Violet needed me.

  “Violet, honey,” I say and Violet shifts in the bed to look at me. Her eyes droop with exhaustion but the nurse is right: she seems more with it. “Can you talk to Officer Grady for a few minutes? He has some questions for you.”

  Violet nods and makes room for me to sit next to her. “Are you feeling okay?” I ask. “Are you hurt at all?”

  “No, I’m okay,” she says but her eyes dart from side to side as if looking for someone.

  Officer Grady clears his throat and pulls a chair up right next to the bed and retrieves a notepad and pen from his pocket. “I need to ask you some questions about this morning, Violet. You and Cora Landry went to the old train depot together?” Violet nods her head. “I need you to answer out loud, Violet, you understand?”

  Again Violet nods and I slide my arm around her shoulders. “Yes,” she says and then, “Yes, we went there.”

  “Was it just the two of you?”

  “And Jordyn. Jordyn came, too.” I look at Officer Grady in alarm but he coolly jots down what Violet is saying. There was no sign of Jordyn at the train yard. Was she hurt, too? Was she taken?

  “Do you know where Jordyn went?” he asks and I’m relieved he at least asked the question. “She wasn’t there when we found you and Cora.”

  Violet gnaws at her lower lip. “I don’t know. She was there with us and then she wasn’t.”

  “You and Jordyn were spending the night at the Landry house?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you get to the train yard?”

  “We walked,” Violet says and then peeks sheepishly up at me. She knows she’s supposed to ask me before she ever goes anywhere. I’ve learned the hard way with Max and am trying to set firm rules with Violet. My fingers itch to look at my phone to see if Max has checked in but I don’t want to interrupt now that Violet’s talking.

  “The train yard is how far from Cora’s house? A mile and a half or two?” Officer Grady asks. Violet shrugs and he moves on. “What time did you leave?”

  “Around midnight,” she says without hesitation.

  “Midnight?” I ask, unable to stop myself. “Why in the world would you three be roaming around town in the middle of the night?” I feel Violet go rigid next to me.

  Officer Grady reaches over and pats Violet’s knee. “Hold tight, will you, Violet? I’m going to talk to your mom out in the hall for a sec. You’re doing great.” Officer Grady stands and I slide out of my spot next to Violet and follow him into the hallway.

  Once out of earshot Officer Grady turns on me. “The agreement was I ask the questions and you listen, right? How am I going to find out what happened if you keep interrupting?” A red flush creeps up his fleshy neck and I realize he’s right. I need to shut up. He’s trying to get all the information he can so he can catch the bastard and I’m stuck on Violet sneaking out in the middle of the night.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’ll be quiet.”

  “You know what would be even better?” he asks. “If you would let me finish interviewing her without you in the room. Kids talk more if the parents aren’t listening in.”

  Again I know he’s right. “Fine. I’ll wait out here but you’ll come and get me right away if she asks for me, right?”

  “Sure thing,” he agrees, steps back into the room and closes the door before I can change my mind.

  I try to listen through the doorway but all I can hear is the low murmur of voices. I give up and check my phone for messages from Max. Nothing. I send Max a text telling him that his sister is in the hospital and he needs to call right now. Just as I hit Send I recognize Cora Landry’s parents walking down the long corridor. I rush to catch up with them. “Mara,” I call.

  I can’t remember her husband’s name, just know that he manages a place that sells farm equipment. Mara’s eyes are red and swollen from crying and her blond hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. Like me, she appears to have dressed in a hurry. Normally polished and put together, this morning she wears an oversize sweatshirt, paint-speckled yoga pants and a pair of moccasins. “Mara,” I say, her name catching in my throat. “I can’t believe this happened! How’s Cora doing?”

  She presses a tissue to her red-tipped nose with shaky fingers. “She was stabbed. In the face and here.” With shaky fingers she indicates a spot just below her ribs. Mara’s face crumples and she leans into her husband.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say, swallowing back my own tears. “Was Cora able to say what happened?”

  Mara’s husband shakes his head. “No. She wasn’t in any condition to talk to the police. But the witness said she saw a car with three people inside just before she found Cora.”

  “This is my husband, Jim,” Mara says, remembering her manners even in her distraught state. “This is Beth, Violet’s mom.”

  I’m embarrassed that I don’t know the Landrys better. My shift at the gas station usually ends at five and Violet spends nearly every day after school at their house. I should have made more of an effort, thanked them for giving my daughter a place to go besides an empty house.

  Mara fishes into her purse for another tissue. “A nurse told us Violet was here but she couldn’t tell us how she’s doing. Was she hurt?”

  “They treated her for shock but she’s okay.” I feel almost guilty that my daughter might be able to leave the hospital today. “The policeman is talking to her right now trying to put together what happened.” I reach for Mara’s hand. It is cold and dry to the touch. “I can’t believe this. What in the world were the girls doing at the train yard in the middle of the night?”

  Mara pulls her hand from mine. “I checked on them before I went to bed. They were in Cora’s room sleeping.”

  I’m startled by the defensiveness in her voice. I wasn’t about to criticize another’s parenting skills when I had no
idea where my own daughter was in the wee hours of the morning and still have no idea where my sixteen-year-old son is right now. “I just mean I can’t believe something like this could happen here in Pitch.”

  “There’s no way that it was Cora’s idea to leave the house. No way. She never snuck out like this before,” Jim says. His voice is tight with irritation and I suddenly know he blames Violet. She’s the new girl in town. We’re the outsiders. “She knows she’s not to go anywhere without talking to us first.” He pulls on Mara’s hand. “Come on, we need to get up to the surgical floor.”

  “Good luck,” I say. “Please let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thank you,” Mara says, allowing herself to be guided down the hallway by her husband.

  I know the Landrys are worried about their daughter but I’m angry on Violet’s behalf. Jim all but said that Violet and Jordyn are responsible. We don’t know the full story. Besides, I know Violet. She’s more of a follower than a leader.

  I wish I was back in the room with Violet and Officer Grady. I don’t like not knowing what’s going on. I have so many questions. Who attacked them and why were the girls out in the middle of the night? I pace outside the examination room until I can’t stand it anymore and I ease open the door and sit in a corner of the room where I’m out of the way but can still hear what they are talking about. Officer Grady gives me an aggravated sidelong glance but continues his conversation with Violet.

  “You weren’t injured, right? No one hurt you, right?” he asks.

  “No,” Violet says. She looks so small sitting in the center of the bed, her knees now tucked up beneath her chin. Her long dark hair hides her face but from the wobble in her voice I know she’s upset.

  “But someone hurt Cora very badly,” he says gently. “Can you tell me what you saw? What you heard? Anything at all?”

  Violet lowers her forehead to her knees, clasps her hands in front of her shins. Officer Grady waits her out. I’ve got to give him credit. He’s being very patient. “You said that you and the other girls got separated. Where did you go?”

  “I went to find Jordyn. She got mad and left,” Violet says, her mouth muffled by her knees.

  This doesn’t surprise me. I like Jordyn but she runs hot and cold. One minute the girls will be laughing hysterically about something and the next Jordyn will be stomping away over some imagined slight.

  “Why was Jordyn mad?” Officer Grady asks. He lowers his forearms to his knees and ducks his head to try to see Violet’s face still hidden behind a curtain of hair. Violet shrugs. Officer Grady waits.

  “She said we were being stupid,” Violet finally says.

  “Why did she say that?” Officer Grady eases his chair a few inches closer to her bedside.

  Violet raises her head, tucks her hair behind her ears. Now that her hands are cleaned of the blood I can see that she has bitten her nails down to the quick. I thought she had broken that bad habit. Evidently not.

  “Jordyn said he wasn’t going to show up,” Violet says and my blood runs cold. Without looking at me Officer Grady raises one hand in my direction as if to say, I’ve got this.

  “Who is he, Violet?” Officer Grady asks. Violet ducks her head. Officer Grady waits a few beats to see if Violet will answer. She doesn’t so he decides to move on.

  “So Jordyn left and then what did you do?”

  “I went looking for her but I couldn’t find her, so I went back. I wanted to be there when he did come. And he did—Jordyn was wrong.”

  “Who?” I ask before I can stop myself. “Who came?” Violet looks over at me as if she realizes for the first time that I’ve returned to the room.

  Officer Grady’s radio crackles and he reluctantly removes it from his utility belt and listens to a string of muffled words that I can’t understand but my attention is still on Violet. “Who came?” I ask again once he puts away his radio but Violet is watching Officer Grady carefully.

  “Violet, this is very important,” he says. His voice has lost all of its earlier warmth. “Who did you see at the train yard?”

  Violet ducks her head. “I don’t know.”

  “But you saw someone?” Officer Grady asks. Violet nods. “But you didn’t recognize him? You didn’t know the person?” She nods again. “So you did know him?” Officer Grady says in exasperation.

  “You’re confusing her,” I protest. “Violet, did you recognize the person?”

  “You won’t believe me,” she answers with a slight shake of her head.

  “Violet, all we want to know is the truth,” Officer Grady says, again trying for his earlier gentle tone but Violet is having none of it and buries her face in her hands.

  “I think she needs a break,” I say, unable to keep the anger from my voice. “Can’t we do this later?”

  Officer Grady sighs. “I just got word on my radio that a sheriff’s deputy picked up your son and another boy. He’s asking for you. They’ll meet us down at the police station.”

  “What for?” I ask in disbelief. Max gets in his share of trouble but has never been picked up by the police before.

  “I’m not sure,” Officer Grady says.

  “Bullshit,” I blurt out. “The sheriff doesn’t randomly pick up two teenage boys without a reason. What happened?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” Officer Grady says. “The witness at the train yard reported seeing a black, two-door Honda around the time she found Cora. Your son was found with another boy in a car that matches that vehicle’s description. The deputy is bringing them in to answer a few questions. Once the doctor discharges Violet, I can drive you back to town.”

  “It’s got to be some kind of misunderstanding,” I say in frustration, sure that the woman who found Cora must have made a mistake. There isn’t any lighting in the train depot. It was too dark and any car she might have seen would look black. “I want to make it clear—I don’t want anyone talking to Violet or Max without my permission. Do you understand?”

  Officer Grady nods. “No,” I insist. “I want you to get on that radio right now and tell them that under no circumstances is anyone to question Max until I get there.”

  “Understood,” Officer Grady says as he opens the examination room door. “I’ll meet you at the front entrance and we’ll head back to Pitch.”

  It’s insane to think that Max could have hurt anyone. He’s gotten into a bit of trouble but has never been violent except for the one time back in New Mexico and that was just a stupid schoolyard dustup.

  The nurse removes the IV from Violet’s arm and since her clothes have been taken as evidence she gives Violet a small pair of scrubs to wear home from the hospital. “Sorry I don’t have any shoes for you,” she says, “but I do have these lovely yellow socks.” Violet gives the nurse a small smile. To me the nurse says, “Paperwork is all done so you are free to go. Good luck and don’t hesitate to call if you have any questions.” I thank her and wait until she leaves before I speak again to Violet.

  “Did you see Max while you were out?” I ask Violet as she pulls on the socks. “Near the train yard?” Violet shakes her head and looks like she wants to tell me more but doesn’t say anything. “What?” I ask. “This is important. Did you see a car near the train yard this morning, Violet?”

  “It’s hard to remember,” Violet says as we move into the corridor and toward the exit where Officer Grady will be waiting for us.

  “You need to remember,” I say more sharply than I mean to and Violet flinches as if I slapped her. “We just need to be as helpful as we can.” I soften my voice. “For Cora’s sake.”

  I want to reach for Violet’s hand. I want to go back to a time when the warmth of our palms pressed together made everything more bearable. But of course there is no way Violet will allow this public display of affection. Instead she veers away from me until we are nearly on opposite sides of the h
allway.

  By the time we reach the exit, Officer Grady is out front leaning against his car and talking on his cell phone. When he sees us he hangs up and opens the back door. I can’t help but notice all the curious looks we get as we climb inside.

  “I just got off the phone with Pitch PD. Max knows you’re on your way,” Officer Grady says, turning on the engine. “Buckle up.”

  “Where is she?” Violet asks.

  “Who?” I ask. “Cora? She’s with another doctor being taken care of.”

  “Jordyn,” Violet says, fidgeting with the seat belt until I reach over and snap it into place for her. I find the question a bit odd, though I’m not sure why. Of course she’d be curious about what happened to her friend. Maybe it’s the tone of her voice—not worried, not concerned. I try to read Violet’s expression but it tells me nothing.

  “She was at the police station for questioning but I imagine she’s home by now,” Officer Grady explains as he eases the car from its spot in front of the hospital.

  “What did she say?” Violet asks, looking out the window. She’s talking as if she’s asking what’s for lunch.

  Officer Grady glances at me through the rearview mirror and our eyes meet. He’s confused by Violet’s reaction, too, and he’s looking to me for help. “Violet, honey,” I say, “are you feeling okay?” I wonder if she might still be in shock, worry that I may have insisted on bringing her home too soon.

  Violet is examining her knuckles, scraping at the dried blood that fills the narrow grooves. Cora’s blood. I pull her fingers away, repulsed. “When’s the last time you saw Max?” I try again. “Was it last night when he and Clint took you to Cora’s house?”

  “And Nikki,” she adds.

  “Did you see Max at all?” I ask, my voice rising with frustration. Why can’t she give me a straight answer? “Listen, Violet, Max could be in a lot of trouble. Did you see Max after he dropped you off?”

  Violet’s forehead briefly creases in worry. “No,” she says so that I barely hear her and turns away from me again to face the window. She’s lying. I’m just not sure about what. We travel the rest of the way back to Pitch in silence. I want to talk to her more about what could be happening with Max but I don’t want to say too much in front of Officer Grady.