Ramona Richards - The Taking Of Carly Bradford

Her captor entered, face red with anger, and Carly knew immediately that the sandals had not been found.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drop them…” She stopped, and Carly’s eyes widened as she took in the bruised face and the streaks of mud on the legs and chest of the sweat suit her captor always wore into the woods. Something had happened.

Carly flinched, a new wave of fear surging through her, and she hugged her legs tighter. “Please don’t hit me again.”

“Someone took them. I tried to stop her—” Her captor waved a hand in dismissal. “Never mind. I want the dress.”

Carly pointed, hand trembling, to a trunk in the corner. “It’s still there.”

Shortly after her captor had locked Carly in this tiny bedroom, new clothes had appeared on the bed, with orders to put the sandals, poncho and dress into the trunk. There they had stayed until last night, when her captor had awakened Carly well after midnight and announced that she needed exercise. Her captor had not bought new shoes for her, so they had retrieved the sandals. They had walked the stream bank into the woods, following only the light of a full moon. Her captor had tried to make her laugh and play, as if all were normal, despite the rope tied securely around Carly’s waist and a hushed threat of what would happen if she screamed. Exhausted, terrified, Carly had tried, finally slipping off the sandals and wading downstream a bit, then back. Only after they had returned home did they realize the sandals were gone.

Her captor snatched the blue sundress out of the box and waved it at the young child. “I’ll get them back. Have to. No matter what it takes. That meddling witch…” The dress snapped like a flag in the wind. “If this doesn’t work, we’ll have to move.” The door slammed, and the lock clicked back into place.

Tears leaked from Carly’s eyes as the frightened, confused little girl rolled over on the bed. “I want to go home.” The pillow muffled her words and soaked up her tears, but she grew quiet as something her captor had said echoed again in her head.

Someone took them…her…

Someone. A woman. Maybe the rescuer Carly had been praying so feverishly for? Carly looked up at the ceiling. “God? Can she help?”

Is Carly still alive? Maggie’s question haunted Tyler all the way back to Mercer, just as it had clung to almost every waking moment for the past few weeks. He drove back alone in his cruiser, with Maggie insisting that Dee ride in her larger and more comfortable SUV. Anna had been right. When they brought Dee into the waiting area after her discharge, the medications had completely clouded her mind. Incoherent and groggy, Dee had almost fallen out of the wheelchair, and Tyler’s chest tightened as he looked over her injuries and tried not to show his surprise.

Tenderly, he’d lifted her from the chair and snuggled her down into the backseat where Maggie had made a nest of coats and blankets borrowed from the hospital. “Ride easy, Dixie Dee.” He had whispered it so softly no one else could hear, and she’d blinked up at him, then closed her eyes sleepily as he’d tucked a pillow in at her side.

He’d backed away as Maggie took over as nurse, and Tyler returned to his car with the bag holding the sandals. As both cars pulled out of the hospital’s parking lot, he called Fletcher. “Speak to me. Where are you?”

The older detective cleared his throat. “Just leaving the scene. It’s getting too dark to do any more tonight. How’s Dee?”

Tyler related what Anna had told him about the attack and Dee’s condition. “Anything to corroborate her story?”

“Some. Wayne found blood spatter around a tree, and drops leading to the road near where you hit her. He also found blood and bits of skin on one of the limbs. There are at least two sets of footprints, one most likely Dee’s, but we couldn’t tell if there were more than two. The ground is badly torn up. We took a couple of casts, just in case. Wayne gathered some of the blood and skin to send to the lab, but my guess is that it’s all Dee’s.”

“Hear any spooky voices out in the woods?”

Fletcher paused. “You don’t believe her?”

Now it was Tyler’s turn to hesitate. “I don’t know, Fletcher. Her injuries are real, and it does sound as if she had a scuffle with someone. I don’t think she made this up. I just don’t know if she heard what she thinks she heard. It could have been a kid trying to scare her. What’s your take on this?”

Another pause. “The wind in these trees can sound strange to anyone not used to it.”

Tyler grinned. “So says the boy from New York City?”

“Not me,” Fletcher growled. “I grew up in Vermont.”

“Right.” Tyler let him off the hook. “Listen, Maggie is taking Dee to the retreat lodge house. She’ll play nurse, but if you could…”

“Not a problem. And I’ll keep an eye out.”

“I know Dee will remember things differently tomorrow, but there was no way to get a statement out of her today.”

“Assault victims usually do.”

“Is Wayne going to send everything to the lab?”

“Yeah. He said to tell you to go on home. The boys are changing shifts, and he’ll take care of the rest of this. You can do any remaining paperwork in the morning.”

“I’ll drop the sandals off so he can log them in and put them in a proper evidence bag. If, in fact, they are evidence, I don’t want to leave them in the car overnight nor in a plastic bag.”

“You know you’ll have to call Jack and Nancy about this before you do any forensic work on them.”

“I know. Can’t spend the money on forensics unless we know for sure. We’ve already been through this too many times.”

A beat of silence passed before Fletcher spoke again. “You want me there?”

Absolutely! You think I want to do this by myself once again? Look into those faces, offer them some kind of false hope again? “No. Thanks, though. I need to do it.”

“If you change your mind, let me know.”

Tyler hung up, following in silence as the cars turned into the long drive leading to Jackson’s Retreat. He carried Dee from the car into a guest bedroom in the retreat’s lodge house, then stood back awkwardly as Maggie took on the role of Dee’s caregiver. Normally the writers stayed in individual cabins on the property, but this way Dee would be close to Maggie and Fletcher, who would guard her as if she were a queen.

Maggie still bustled about the virtually unconscious Dee as he eased out of the room and returned to his cruiser. The ten-minute drive to the police station felt much longer, with his mind occupied by the innocent eyes of Carly Bradford and the wounded face of Dee Kelley. He gave the sandals to Wayne to log in for evidence, then headed home.

An odd sense of resignation settled around Tyler as he drove to his small house not far from downtown and let go of any idea that the sandals belonged to Carly. They couldn’t. That style had been quite popular for young girls this spring, and they had already received a dozen or more false “sightings” of the shoes. This was just one more. But, of all the people to find another pair of “Carly’s shoes,” did it have to be Dee Kelley, with her wounded mother’s soul? He couldn’t imagine what was going through her mind and heart right now.

Help her, Lord. Tyler’s silent prayer came automatically to him. She’s already been through way too much.

He also hoped that this “attack” was more than Dee’s imagination, that it didn’t mean Dee was about to spiral viciously backward into her old life. She’s come so far since being here, Father. Don’t let her go backward in her healing. She’s going to need Your help.

Everyone in Mercer seemed to know Dee’s heart-crushing story, of how she’d lost her husband and son in a devastating car crash and the three-year depression that followed. He’d heard different versions from a variety of townspeople, including Laurie at the café and a couple of shop owners. As usual, small towns and personal secrets weren’t a good mix. Yet knowing it had led the locals to embrace this newcomer in a way they seldom did. Of course, it helped that they’d discovered Dee to be one of the most gracious people they’d ever met.