Alex Barclay - The Drowning Child

‘What does this mean for Caleb?’ said Teddy. ‘Have you lost hope for him? Do you think this is what happened to him? Aaron was found very quickly... is that a good or a bad sign for Caleb?’

‘Let’s wait until John comes back,’ said Ren.

They sat in silence. Ren looked around the room. It was exceptionally tidy, with few decorative touches, except for a narrow wall of family photographs to the left of the archway into the dining area. There was one of John Veir in his army uniform, his face set, his eyes dark and blank.

‘ When was that photo taken?’ said Ren.

‘Gosh,’ said Teddy, turning to follow her gaze. ‘He must have been thirty years old in that.’

‘He looks so young,’ said Ren.

Teddy nodded. ‘He always did.’

Where all three Veirs were in photos together, Teddy was smiling, and her husband and son looked, at best, tolerant; at worst, tense.

I’d hate to be with a man like that. And have a son who looks miserable even on vacation. You have zero clue what was going on that day. And maybe they just don’t like getting their photo taken.

John came back, white-faced, with beads of sweat along his hairline. He sat down beside Teddy, and took her hand again.

‘Sorry,’ he said. He wiped his forearm across his brow.

‘You’ve had a shock,’ said Ren. ‘But this news about Aaron doesn’t mean that something bad has happened to Caleb. No one wants to alarm you, but it would be foolish for us not to at least consider a connection, based on their age profile and geographic proximity. And I want to reassure you that looking into what happened to Aaron won’t impact on our efforts to find Caleb.’

‘Oh, come on,’ said John. ‘It’ll take a chunk out of your resources, for sure. How couldn’t it?’

‘We’ll be bringing more officers in,’ said Ren. ‘And more agents from the FBI offices in Salem and Portland.’

‘Is there anything we can do?’ said John. ‘I can’t just sit here and do nothing. There’s a maniac out there who’s drowned a boy, who might have our son, and we’re just sitting around?’

‘There’s nothing you can do except be here and support each other,’ said Ren. ‘But you will have to come in later to talk to Gil Wiley and Pete Ruddock.’

‘There was something I discovered this morning,’ said Teddy. ‘It’s probably no big deal, but I noticed that John’s sleeping bag is missing from the attic.’

John’s head spun toward her. ‘What?’

‘Yes,’ said Teddy. ‘I was going through the things Caleb kept up there, in case there was anything that might help us find him, and I realized it was gone. When was the last time we used them?’

John shrugged. ‘I can’t remember. The summer before last?’

Teddy nodded. ‘You’re right.’

‘Do you have a photo of it?’ said Ren.

‘I can get you one,’ said Teddy. ‘I know that it’s got a pretty distinctive black ink stain on it from a Sharpie.’

‘When was the last time either of you were up in the attic?’ said Ren.

Eye-dart from John Veir.

‘Several months,’ said Teddy.

‘Caleb was talking about getting an action figure from up there on Sunday night,’ said John, ‘but I don’t know if he did in the end.’

How convenient...

Teddy sat forward, her eyes bright. ‘Could this mean that Caleb did run away? The suitcase, the sleeping bag...’

Caleb, dead, rolled into a sleeping bag, sealed inside a sheet of plastic, his father closing the trunk of his car.

‘Not necessarily,’ said Ren.

Suddenly, a car screeched up outside the house. Everyone stood up. A car door slammed, and there was the sound of footsteps rushing up the path. The doorbell rang, then a fist pounded on the door.

‘Get out here! Get out here!’

It was a woman’s voice.

John went to the window. Ren walked toward the front door.

‘Stay where you are, Teddy,’ said John.

‘Who is it?’ she said.

John went into the hall, and started to open the door, trying to push his way through the gap, to get out on to the porch.

‘Don’t you dare! Let me in, John!’

That’s Shannon Fuller.

John gave in, and Shannon appeared in the hallway, just as Teddy came out from the living room.

‘It was you, you fucking psycho!’ said Shannon.

‘What are you talking about?’ said John.

‘Shannon,’ said Ren. ‘Please calm down—’

‘No!’ said Shannon. ‘No.’

‘John, step back, please,’ said Ren. ‘Shannon, I’m going to come over to you and—’

Shannon Fuller was pale-faced. Her eyes locked on to Ren’s. ‘There’s something I should have told you right after I heard that Caleb was missing, but I didn’t want to sound like some psycho too—’

Her gaze turned to Teddy.

‘What is it?’ said Ren.

‘Tell her!’ said Shannon to Teddy. ‘Tell her!’

‘Tell her what?’ said Teddy.

‘Tell her!’ said Shannon.

‘What... what are you talking about?’ said Teddy. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘I was just told my son was drowned!’ said Shannon. ‘Did you hear that? Someone deliberately drowned my son—’

‘We don’t know that for sure,’ said Ren.

Shannon talked over her. ‘Someone held him under water until he couldn’t breathe any more. Someone killed my beautiful boy! Tell her, Teddy. So help me God—’

Teddy’s eyes were filled with tears, but she looked utterly bewildered. ‘I have no idea—’

‘I’ll tell her, then,’ said Shannon. ‘I’ll tell her—’

‘Stop!’ said John. ‘Shannon, stop. Don’t—’ He stepped toward her.

‘No!’ said Shannon. ‘No way!’ She turned to Ren, her eyes alight, but she was speaking to Teddy. ‘Tell her! Tell this woman! Tell her!’

‘John,’ said Teddy, pleading. ‘What is she talking about?’ She was shaking. ‘I don’t know what you’re—’

‘Don’t!’ roared John at Shannon. ‘Don’t say a word. Don’t do this.’

The pain in his eyes.

Shannon saw it too, and it drained the fight from her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. I’m... angry. I’m confused. I... someone drowned Aaron. Someone drowned my little boy. Why would someone do that?’

And why would you come here directing your anger at Teddy Veir? And what does John Veir know about it?

Ren looked at John Veir over Shannon’s shoulder, and nodded him toward his confused wife. ‘Can you please take Teddy into the living room? Thank you.’

Ren took Shannon to one side. ‘What is going on?’

Shannon lowered her voice, out of earshot of Teddy. ‘When Caleb was a baby, Teddy tried to drown him.’

Oh.

Dear.

God.

Ren led Shannon into the kitchen.

‘Talk to me,’ said Ren.

‘When Caleb was a newborn,’ said Shannon, ‘I came across Teddy early one morning, kneeling down by Coolwater Creek, lowering Caleb into the water. I ran, got there just as his face was going under. It was horrific. I jumped in the water, and pulled him out of Teddy’s grip. Teddy was just sobbing, rambling on about no more pain. She was hysterical. She lashed out at me, scratched my face, tried to take Caleb out of my arms. She kept telling me that Caleb would only ever be safe if he was in heaven.’

Jesus. ‘What happened next?’ said Ren.

‘Well, I managed to talk Teddy into coming with me back to the car,’ said Shannon. ‘I was going to drive them both to the police station, or the hospital, but Teddy begged me not to. She said her husband was in Iraq and that the baby would be taken away from her. So I brought them both back home. I told Teddy I wouldn’t call the police on three conditions: one – that she called a family member to come stay with her; two – that they brought the baby to the doctor immediately; and three – that she got psychiatric help.’