Rita Herron - The Missing Twin

“Hi, Sara,” he said gruffly. “That’s a pretty name.”

“Thank you,” she said, her tone sounding grown up for such a little bitty thing. “It’s my Gran’s middle name.”

“Okay, Sara. Tell me what’s going on so I can help you.”

Madelyn stroked her daughter’s hair. “Sara’s been having nightmares for the past two months, ever since we moved back to town.”

“Where are you from?” Caleb asked, probing for background information.

Madelyn hugged Sara closer. “We moved to Charlotte four years ago to be near my mom, but Sara was born in Sanctuary. Recently my mother suffered a stroke, and I found a nursing facility here that she liked, so I bought the craft shop in town, and we packed up and moved back.”

“I see,” Caleb said. Had the move triggered these nightmares? “Sara, did you have dreams of your sister when you lived in Charlotte?”

Sara nodded and twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “We talked and sang songs and told secrets.”

Caleb narrowed his eyes. “What kinds of secrets?”

Sara pursed her mouth. “They’re not secrets if I tell.”

Hmm. She was loyal to her sister. But those secrets might be important.

“She has dreamed about her twin all her life,” Madelyn confirmed. “But lately those dreams have been disturbing.”

Sara piped up. “Her name is Cissy, and she looks just like me.”

Caleb nodded, aware that she used the present tense. “Sara and Cissy. How old are you?”

“Five,” Sara said and held up five fingers. “Cissy’s five, too.”

He smiled again. “You’re identical twins?”

She swung her feet. “Yep, ’cept I gots a birthmark on my right arm and hers is on the other side.” She pointed to a small, pale, crescent-moon shape on her forearm.

Caleb folded his hands. He needed to keep Sara talking. “Tell me what happens in your dreams, Sara.”

Terror darkened the little girl’s face. “Cissy is scared and she’s screamin’ and she runned into the woods.”

Damn. He understood about nightmares, how real and haunting they could seem. “Who is she running from?” Caleb asked.

“From a big, mean man. He screamed at her mommy,” Sara said with conviction. “Cissy says he’s gonna kill them.”

Caleb intentionally lowered his voice. “Can you see his face? Does she call him by name?”

Sara chewed on her thumb for a moment as if trying to picture the man in her mind. “No, I can’t see him.” Her voice rose with anxiety. “But I saw Cissy running and crying.”

Caleb clenched his hands, listening, hating the terror in the little girl’s voice. The last thing he wanted to do was traumatize a troubled child by doubting her or confirming her fears. And she was genuinely afraid and believed what she was telling him.

His sixth sense kicked in. This little girl was…different. Did she truly have a psychic connection to her twin?

Other questions bombarded him: If her sister was dead, was Sara seeing and conversing with her spirit? Was Sara a medium? If so, why was she seeing images of Cissy at the same age as herself instead of the infant she’d been when she died? Was Cissy’s growth a figment of Sara’s imagination?

Another theory rattled through his head. Or could Sara be experiencing premonitions? Could Cissy’s spirit be trying to warn Sara that Sara was in danger from some future attacker?

“You’re a brave girl,” Caleb said, then patted Sara’s arm. “And if you see anything else—the man’s face, or the mommy’s—I want you to tell me. Okay?”

Sara bobbed her little head up and down, although she looked wrung out now, as if relaying her nightmare had drained her. Or maybe she was worried that describing the terrifying ordeal might make it come true.

He lifted his gaze to Madelyn. “Can we talk alone?”

Her wary gaze flew to his. “I don’t like to leave Sara by herself.”

Gage retrieved a pad of paper and some crayons and gestured to the coffee table. “It’s okay, Madelyn. I have a little girl, too. Her name is Ruby and she likes to draw when she comes to the office.” He stooped down and handed the crayons to Sara. “Would you like to use Ruby’s crayons to draw a picture of Cissy while Caleb talks to your mother?”

Sara studied him for a long moment, then nodded. Madelyn reluctantly stood and settled Sara on the floor in front of the coffee table. Caleb gestured to the door, and she led the way out into the hallway.

The moment he closed the door, she whirled on him, arms crossed. “Listen, Mr. Walker, I know you probably think that Sara is disturbed, and believe me, I’ve taken her to shrinks, consulted with specialists, tried to talk to her myself, but these nightmares keep reoccurring, and there has to be a reason.”

Caleb shifted. “Did these doctors make a diagnosis?”

Madelyn sighed, her expression strained. “Oh, yes, lots of them. The first doctor suggested Sara was seeing herself, that the twin was a mirror image. Doctor Number Two implied that she was terrified because she had no father, then suggested she made up the bizarre connection with Cissy to get attention. His colleague indicated Sara might be bipolar and wanted to put her in a special twin study, run a mountain of tests and analyze her brain.” She blew out a breath, sending her bangs fluttering. “The last one suggested she was schizophrenic and advised me to let him prescribe drugs.”

Caleb frowned. “Did you try medication?”

“No,” Madelyn said emphatically. “She’s only five years old.” She paced across the hall, her hands knotting in the folds of her skirt. “I really hoped that I could handle it, that if I carried Sara to see Cissy’s grave she’d accept that her sister is gone.”

“What happened at the cemetery?” Caleb asked. “Did she see Cissy?”

Madelyn cleared her throat. “She insisted that Cissy wasn’t buried in the grave. That it was empty.”

Tears filled Madelyn’s eyes, making Caleb’s gut clench.

“But I know she is,” Madelyn said in a haunted whisper. “Because I buried her myself.”

Sara’s words haunted Madelyn as Caleb coaxed her into his office.

“Cissy’s not dead, Mommy. She gots another mommy, and she likes to play dolls and read stories just like me.” Then Sara had started to cry. “But her mommy’s in trouble and this mean man’s gonna hurt her and Cissy.”

Only she had buried Cissy five years ago.

Caleb propped himself against the desk edge while she sank onto a chair.

“If you’re so sure Sara is wrong, why did you come to GAI?” Caleb asked.

Madelyn desperately tried to decipher the intensity in his deep brown eyes. The man scared the hell out of her.

He was huge, broad-shouldered, muscular, dark-skinned, with shoulder-length thick, black hair, and had the gruffest voice she’d ever heard. His Native American roots ran deep and infused him with a quiet strength that radiated from his every pore but also made him appear dangerous, like a warrior from the past.

Yet he had been gentle with Sara and obviously the head of GAI trusted him.

“My mother phoned. She heard a news story about GAI uncovering some illegal adoptions associated with Dr. Emery, babies he delivered at Sanctuary Hospital.”

“You delivered the twins there?”

“Yes.”

“What about the father?” Caleb asked.

Madelyn chewed her bottom lip. “He left us when Sara started calling her dead sister’s name. I haven’t seen him or heard from him since.”

Caleb frowned. “He doesn’t send child support?”

“I didn’t want it,” Madelyn said. “Not that he would have come through. He was having financial problems back then, his business failing.”