Chevy Stevens - Still Missing

“I want to know where I am.”

“I’m sorry,” Gary said. “I thought you knew you were in Port Northfield.”

“Can you show me on a map?”

Gary nodded to Diane, who left the room. When she brought a map back, he pointed out a town northwest of Clayton Falls—about three-quarters of the way up the island and right on the West Coast. The roads to any of the towns off the beaten track were usually pretty rough, and you had to drive slowly. I calculated at least a four-hour drive from Clayton Falls.

“How did you guys get here so fast?”

“Helicopter,” Gary said. Seeing that sucker fly in must have got this town all atwitter.

So I was right, I was never that far from home. I stared at Gary’s finger resting on the dot for Port Northfield and blinked back my tears.

“How did you get here?” Gary asked.

“I drove.”

“Where did you drive from?” His fingers tapped on the table.

“A cabin on a mountain.”

“How long were you driving for, Annie?”

“About an hour.”

He nodded and showed me a mountain on the map, near the dot for the town.

“Is this it? Green Mountain?” Somebody with no imagination named that one.

“I don’t know. I was on it, not looking down on it.”

He sent Diane to get a map of just the town. Gary and I sat there looking at each other until she returned, the only sound his foot tapping under the table. When she got back, Gary handed me a pen and asked me to draw the route I’d driven. I tried to rough it out the best I could.

“Can you take us to it?”

“There’s no way I’m going back up there.” I still had the keys to the van gripped in my hand and now I shoved them across the table to Gary.

“The van’s parked across the street.”

He sent Diane out with the keys. She must have given them to someone outside, because she was back in about two seconds. Something tickled at the back of my mind. If I was only about four hours away, Mom could have left right away and still been in Port Northfield that night.

“Why is it taking my mom so long to get here?”

“Your stepfather is working tonight and they can’t leave until the morning.” Gary stated it like a fact, so I took it like a fact, but I wondered why she didn’t drive up by herself. Not to mention, since when did Wayne work at night? It was rare enough he even had a job. I figured Gary told them not to come until the next day so he could question me without them there.

Gary excused himself and left me alone in the room with Diane for a few minutes. I stared at the wall above her head.

“Your mother will be here soon. She was so happy to hear you’ve been found—she’s missed you a lot.” I hadn’t been found —I’d found them.

When Gary returned, he said he’d sent some people to look for the cabin—one of the cops used to hunt in that area and thought he might know where it was. I still hadn’t told them I killed The Freak or said anything about my baby, and at the thought of all the questions they might ask, my head hurt. I needed to be by myself. I needed to be away from these people.

“I don’t want to answer any more questions.”

Gary looked like he wanted to press on, but Diane said, “How about everyone gets a good night’s sleep and then we can pick up in the morning? That okay with you, Annie?”

“Sure, whatever.”

They booked a room in a motel for me and took the rooms on either side. Diane asked if I wanted her to stay with me but I shut that one down fast—there wasn’t going to be any late-night girl bonding here. She also asked what I’d like to eat, but my stomach was in knots and I managed to decline politely. I didn’t feel like turning the TV on and there wasn’t a phone in the room, so I lay on the bed staring at the ceiling until it got dark and I turned off the light. When I was just about asleep, I felt the weight of the darkness pressing down on me, then I heard something—a door creak, a window opening ? I leapt out of bed, but when I threw the lights on, there was nothing. I grabbed a flat pillow, a blanket, and the packsack and crawled into the closet, where I slept fitfully until I heard the maid roll her cart down the hallway in the morning.

A few minutes later Diane came knocking on my door, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, bearing coffee and a muffin. She sat on the edge of the bed, talking too loud and giving me a headache, while I picked at the muffin. I didn’t want to have a shower with her there, so I just splashed some water on my face and ran a brush through my hair for maybe two seconds.

She drove me back to the little concrete room at the cop shop, where Gary was already seated with a tray of coffees in Styrofoam cups. As Diane and I settled in, a young, pretty cop brought in a couple of pads of paper, blushing and sneaking peeks at Gary when she handed them over. He glanced at her as he thanked her, then focused his gaze on me. Disappointment radiated off her as she walked out. He was wearing another nice suit, dark blue with silver pinstripes, and a blue-gray shirt that set off his silver-streaked hair. I wondered if that was why he’d picked it.

Seeing me glare at the mirror, Gary said, “No one’s in there and we’ll only turn the camera back on if you tell us it’s okay.” Wishing I could see through it, I stared hard at the mirror and hugged the packsack to my chest.

“Would you feel more comfortable if you had a look for yourself?”

I was surprised by the offer. I looked at his face, decided he meant it so there was no point in checking, and shook my head.

He started by asking me to describe in as much detail as possible exactly how The Freak had abducted me. Whenever he asked a question he leaned back in his chair with both hands splayed on the table in front of him, and when it was my turn to answer, he leaned toward me with both arms flat on the table and his head cocked to the side.

I tried to find a pattern to his questions, but I just couldn’t predict where he’d go next, didn’t even understand the relevance of some. The hair on the back of my neck was damp with sweat.

Retelling that day and describing The Freak made my mouth dry and my heart lurch around in my chest, but I kept it together until Gary told me the cops who’d investigated the “crime scene” had found The Freak’s body.

“He appears to have been hit with something in the head. Is that how he died, Annie?”

I looked back and forth between them, wishing I could read their minds. Gary didn’t sound accusing, but I could feel the tension in the room.

I hadn’t even thought about what some of my choices or actions might look like to someone who hadn’t been there. The room seemed hot, Diane’s perfume overwhelming in the small space. I wondered how Gary would feel if I puked all over his nice suit. I raised my eyes to his.

“I killed him.”

Gary said, “I have to caution you at this time that you need not say anything further, and that anything you do say may be used as evidence against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney and to have one present during our questioning. If you can’t afford one, we can provide some phone numbers for legal aid. Do you understand?”

The words sounded routine and I didn’t think I was going to be in trouble, but I considered asking for a lawyer. The idea of delaying this process to talk to another suit made my head hurt.

“I get it.”

“You don’t want a lawyer?” He said it casually, but I knew he didn’t want me to ask for one.

“No.”

Gary made a note. “How did you do it?”

“I hit him in the back of the head with an axe.” I swear my voice echoed, and even though it was hot as hell, my skin broke out in goose bumps. Gary’s eyes burrowed into me like he was trying to read my thoughts, and I busied myself with ripping my Styrofoam cup into little pieces.