Cheryl Tardif - Children of the Fog

Sadie eyed the folders. Somewhere in there is one on Sam.

“We need to know if either of you noticed anything strange the past few days,” Jay said, pulling out his notebook. “So we’d like to question you together first. Is that okay?”

“Whatever it takes,” Sadie said. “I just want my son back.”

A muscle jumped in Philip’s jaw. “Same here.”

Jay turned to Sadie. “Have you noticed any strangers hanging around your house? Or had any visitors?”

She shook her head slowly. “No one except Leah. And the clown. Oh, and a KFC delivery guy.”

“And what about at Sam’s school? See anyone there?”

“No. Just his teacher.”

“Where else did you and Sam go this week?” Jay prodded.

She wracked her brain, trying to remember all the little things she and Sam had done together. Mostly, she had played with him in the house, since it was so cold outside. Except the day she took him to the park.

She told Jay.

“Did you see anyone there who didn’t seem to fit?” he asked.

She shook her head. “It was mostly parents, mothers. Oh, and there was one fath—” She looked up and gasped. “There was a man in a car. I thought he was one of the fathers.”

“Can you describe him?”

She winced. “I don’t know. He was sitting in his car and he had a hat and sunglasses on. I didn’t get a clear look at him. I think he was in his mid-thirties, early forties.” She wasn’t exactly lying.

“Did you get a look at the car?”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. It was dark—gray or black. Four doors. That’s all I remember.” Before Jay could ask, she said, “And I never saw the license plate.”

“Do you know the make or model?”

“Sadie can’t tell a sedan from a sports car,” Philip said dryly.

She sent him a look that made his mouth snap shut.

Jay jotted down a few notes. “What about the birthday party?”

“Just friends of Sam’s, no strangers,” she said.

“Let’s get some background info,” Jay said, turning to a fresh page in his notebook.

Within minutes, he had a blow-by-blow of their whole life—routines, friends and every person who had stepped into their house. He admitted that the clown was the strongest lead, since they had found the shoe in Sam’s room. They were also checking into the delivery guy.

Sadie and Philip were separated for about half an hour and questioned individually. Then they were free to go.

She grabbed Jay’s arm as they walked out of his office. “How long do you think before we get Sam back?”

The detective flicked an uneasy glance at her husband. Philip was standing a few yards away, glancing at his watch as if he had somewhere better to be.

“That depends on who took him, Ms. O’Connell,” Jay said.

“You told me the first three days were critical. What happens after that?”

“We keep looking. You’ve given us lots of leads to check out.”

“What if it was The Fog?” she persisted.

Jay’s mouth thinned. “We haven’t found any of the kids he’s taken. But that could be a good thing. It’s very possible they’re all still alive. Including Sam.” He looked at Philip again. “But that’s if The Fog has taken him. Without witnesses or a description, we don’t have much to go on, but we’re looking into all possibilities.”

‘Without witnesses or a description…’

The detective’s words made her flinch, and she hurried around the hall corner, anxious to escape the police station. As she neared the waiting area, she skidded to a stop.

Thick-lashed blue eyes met hers.

Sam!

He was sitting in a chair, crying. When he saw her, he smiled and motioned her to come closer.

Ecstatic and relieved, she turned to Jay. “You found him!”

“What?”

“Sam!” She spun around, pointing toward the chair. “He’s—”

The chair was vacant.

Her mind went numb. She had seen him. He had smiled at her, waved at her.

Philip grabbed her arm, leading her out of the station. “That wasn’t funny, Sadie.”

“It wasn’t meant to be,” she snapped. “I thought… oh, never mind.”

Not a word was said on the drive home. Or as Philip pulled the Mercedes into the garage. When she entered the house, she kicked off her shoes, dropped her purse on the floor and plodded upstairs. Two painkillers and a sleeping pill later, she climbed into bed.

It wasn’t quite six o’clock.

Sadie awoke slowly, rubbing her weary eyes. They felt dry, as if someone had coated them with flour and rubbed it in for good measure. Most likely a side effect of the pills she had taken the night before.

She blinked.

It was day two and a piece of her was missing.

Sam.

She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. A low moan boiled in the pit of her stomach, slithering upward, a coiled snake ready to strike. It burned between her ribs, up to her throat and then erupted from her mouth in a keening wail.

“Sam!”

Wherever he was, he was scared. She knew that without a doubt and she wanted to comfort him, take away his fear. He should have been getting ready to go to school, just as he did every Tuesday morning. Instead, he was with…

The devil.

“Oh God. Why’d you let him take my baby?” She pounded the mattress. “Why?”

Swatting back tears, she reached for the phone.

“It’s Sadie O’Connell,” she said when Jay Lucas picked up.

“I was going to call you. Can you come to the downtown station?”

“Why? Have you found Sam?”

There was a brief pause. “No, but we do need to talk to you again.”

“Should Philip come too?”

“No, just you.”

She hung up and dressed quickly, distracted by her thoughts.

Why did Jay want to talk to her alone? Had he somehow guessed that she’d been lying? Did he suspect that she had seen the man who had taken her son?

After signing in at the front desk, she was escorted to a small office where she sat down uneasily. Jay entered the room, carrying a gray folder. He shook her hand, then sat down behind the desk.

“Ms. O’Connell,” he began. “What I’m about to tell you is highly sensitive and cannot leave this room. I shouldn’t even be discussing this, but it could be pertinent to Sam’s case. A word of caution though. If you mention any of this to your husband or anyone else before it becomes public, we’ll be forced to charge you with interfering in our case. Do you understand?”

“I-I… yes, I understand.”

“Are you aware that your husband is being investigated for fraud and embezzlement?”

“What?” she sputtered. “What are you talking about?”

“Fraud division’s been investigating him for the past year. I didn’t see the connection at first because I had you both listed under the name of O’Connell, since you called it in. But when I amended your husband’s last name, it was flagged.”

“B-but that’s impossible. Philip would never—”

“Your husband’s associate Morris Saunders is under investigation too. We suspect that they’ve been siphoning their clients’ funds into offshore accounts. About eight million dollars in total.”

Eight million dollars?

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her husband—Mr. Defender of Justice—was an embezzler, a thief.

“Aren’t people supposed to be presumed innocent?” she asked in alarm.

The aging detective gave her a rueful look. “Fraud had someone undercover. Someone who knows your husband quite well.”

“Who?”

“I can’t tell you right now. But you’ll know soon enough.”

Sadie was silent for a long moment.

“Ms. O’Connell?”