Melissa Foster - Chasing Amanda

Molly’s shoulders dropped at the mention of his name. “Somehow,” she turned and said to Jin, “I think you might be right, but that doesn’t help him—or Pastor Lett, who has already lost a brother.” Hannah walked in as Molly left the store, breezing by her with a quick hello. Molly sat on the worn wooden bench in front of the store. She set her coffee cup on the ground in front of her and sat back, contemplating the sorrow she felt for Pastor Lett. She thought about the Boyds Boys and how nice it must have been for them to be together for all of those years. The hum of the passing cars and the view of Sugarloaf Mountain in the distance calmed Molly. She relaxed into the bench and began to formulate her plan for the day. Hannah hurried from the store, into her car, and drove off with a quick wave. Molly stood, waved, and climbed into her car. She blew out a frustrated breath and stared at the block-lettered message that was taped to her steering wheel:

DOWN ON KNEES, SECRETS NEAR

FIND HIM, IT WILL BE CLEAR

“What the hell?” Molly said. She tore the note from her steering wheel. Suddenly, she was hit with a stabbing pain that shot through her arms and traveled to her chest. She grabbed hold of the steering wheel, her back as straight as a board, her eyes wide open. The vision hit, sharp and swift—followed by a cold burst that ran through Molly’s body, prickling her skin: Tracey knelt in front of candles, unafraid, peaceful. Next to her, a large woman prayed. The woman turned toward Tracey, her face shrouded in shoulder-length dark hair.

Just as suddenly, the vision ceased. Molly’s body pitched forward, spilling her coffee. She felt the warm liquid dripping down her leg but didn’t have the strength to wipe it away. A combination of relief and fear settled in her mind—Tracey was likely still alive, but something about the woman with her had appeared unnervingly familiar.

Molly did not like women who played the part of damsel-in-distress rather than taking their due, but today, she was going to try. The last thing she needed was another parking ticket. She swallowed her confidence and timidly approached the male officer standing behind the front counter of the police station. “Excuse me,” she said in a quieter-than-normal voice, “I have a question.” She laid the ticket on the counter and tried her best to appear embarrassed, lowering her voice to a whisper. “The other night, I stopped my car on the side of the road because I thought I saw a child down by the lake, and it was really late,” she lied. “I ran down to the lake to see if it was in fact a child, and I walked around a little, you know, checking it out. When I came back up, this was on my van.” She pushed the ticket towards the officer, adding quickly, “I was worried, with the little girl missing and all. I thought I’d better not waste any time. I didn’t want to miss a chance to find the poor girl.” She flashed him her sweetest smile and shrugged, all the while, hating herself for having to pull such girly crap.

“Ma’am, how long were you parked there?” the young officer asked, in a tone that was more like Erik’s than a man’s.

“Oh, not long,” she eagerly replied. “I ran down, walked around a bit,” she glanced up toward the ceiling, tapped her chin with her fingers, as if thinking, “maybe a few minutes, fifteen or so—not so long.” Behind her back, Molly’s fingers were crossed.

The officer held the ticket in his fingers and scrutinized it, as if the answer to his dilemma were written there. Molly tried to appeal to his maternal side—everyone had a mother. “It’s just that,” she looked down at the counter, lowered her voice again, “I have a son, and if someone had seen my son who was missing, I would want them to stop and check it out.”

“Of course you would,” he said kindly.

Molly surveyed him. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-three years old. She pushed a little harder. “It doesn’t seem like something I should be penalized for, you know?”

The officer gave her a pitying look, as if contemplating what he might do for his own mother. He leaned forward and said quietly, “Let me see what I can do.”

Molly was surprised. “Oh, thank you so much,” she said eagerly. “That’s so nice of you!” Molly’s voice seeped maternal gratitude, which she knew would land in his ears the way a proud mother’s might. She watched him walk away and mumbled, “Please God, don’t get me for this!”

Molly waited nervously for the officer to return. The thought entered her mind that perhaps his superior would come out and lecture her on the inappropriate behavior of a civically-responsible adult. She was relieved when he came around the corner five minutes later. He settled himself behind the counter and leaned toward Molly. “Ma’am?” She hurried over, “Yes?” “It’s okay, I took care of it.” He smiled, proud of his accomplishment.

Molly brought her hands together and almost clapped, stopping herself and clasping her hands together instead. “Wonderful! Oh, thank you! You are so kind, really! Thank you so much!”

“No problem,” he grinned, “but from now on, please park on the correct side of the street.”

“I will,” Molly said. “I promise,”

He set the ticket aside, then looked back at Molly. “Thanks for checking out the sighting. Did you find anyone?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

Her smiled faded. “I didn’t find anyone. It must have been a deer or something. I looked everywhere and didn’t see anyone. I was so bummed.” Molly turned to leave, and then turned back to the young man, “Thank you again. Do you have any news about the missing girl?”

The officer shook his head, “No, unfortunately not, but we aren’t giving up hope, and ma’am, we would hate for you to be harmed. Please, in the future, notify the authorities if you see anything suspicious.” Molly nodded and left the building. She was digging through her purse for her keys when she ran head-on into Officer Brown. “Mrs. Tanner, fancy meeting you here,” he said. Molly was caught off guard, “H…How are you?” “Just fine and dandy, though we’ve got no word on Tracey yet,” he said.

Molly glanced hurriedly over her shoulder, embarrassed about talking her way out of the ticket. “I know, I just checked,” she said, hoping her cover would negate his need to follow up on her visit with the officer inside. “I’m so sorry that I ran into you!” she said, touching his arm. She quickly reached back into her purse. “I was looking for,” she brought out her key ring and jingled it, “my keys,” she said.

“No problem,” he smiled in a curious way.

Molly could feel his eyes on her back as she climbed into her van.

Molly stepped out of her van and looked around the parking lot of the Adventure Park. She would never have guessed a child had gone missing from the park had she not known. Children played on the equipment, mothers chatted, and no one noticed as she walked down the grassy hill toward the woods. She realized how easy it would be for someone to walk from the woods to the parking lot and vice versa without so much as a sideways glance. It was too easy.

Molly didn’t hesitate. She moved quickly to the edge of the woods, stepping over the untethered yellow police tape and expecting to be greeted by the force that she had encountered during the search. Instead, the air held a peaceful, almost welcoming quality. Leaves crunched under her feet as she moved branches and walked deeper into the forest. Molly carefully stepped over fallen timber and tried to weave her way around the thorny sprigs that clawed at her from every direction. She was prying a thorn from her sweater when she realized that she was near the site where Hannah had been crouched—where the ground had been warm. Molly removed her pad and looked over the drawings she had made of the area, noting the three rocks that were arranged in a triangular fashion near a lone green bush. She was sure she was near the spot, although something struck her as being different, out of place. She tucked the notepad away in her backpack which she tossed onto a nearby bush. Molly scanned the ground. A lone flower lay on the earth—a white marigold, brown around the edges and wilting. Instinctively, she reached for the flower, retrieving her empty hand quickly as heat intensified beneath it.