Melissa Foster - Chasing Amanda

“Pretty flower, huh, Mrs. Tanner?”

Molly jumped up and spun around, ready to flee or fight, whatever the situation might command. Officer Brown stood just a few feet from her, his heavy hands in his overcoat pockets, a smirk pasted on his face.

“My God! You scared me,” Molly accused.

“Well, you scared me, too.” He walked toward her. “What are you doing, Mrs. Tanner?” He lifted his chin toward the flower. “What brings you here?”

“I…” she searched frantically for an alibi, “I wanted to see if I could find any hint of Tracey.” Yeah, she thought, g o with confidence. Molly pulled her shoulders back and steadied her hands. “I know it sounds silly, but I think these woods hold the answers. I mean, where else could she have gone?”

Officer Brown walked around Molly, stopping only a foot from the heated ground. He turned and bent over from the waist, his large rear end too close for Molly’s comfort. She held her breath and stepped backward. He straightened back up and turned toward Molly, twisting the flower’s stem between his fingers. “Pretty,” he said, handing the flower to Molly. “Y...yes…it is,” Molly managed, suspiciously accepting the flower. “I guess someone must have dropped it.”

“Hmm,” he nodded his head, turned, and walked across the spot where Molly had encountered the heat. Molly stared, mesmerized. “What do you think you will find here, Mrs. Tanner?”

Molly swallowed, answering quickly, “I don’t know. A path? A lead of some sort?” she walked to her right, trying to steer him away from the area. “It seems to me that Tracey must have come this way. I mean, her mother and sister were walking away from here, so they would have seen her if she had walked toward the parking lot,” she shrugged. “So that leaves the woods.” “But why these woods,” he pointed toward the woods on the side of the park, “and not the ones over there?” “They would have seen her. Someone would have seen her, don’t you think?” she asked. “Maybe, maybe not,” he moved closer to Molly, stared into her eyes. Molly held his stare. “Mrs. Tanner, do you know that most abductors come back to the site of the abduction shortly afterward?”

“No, I didn’t know that,” she said, taking a step backward. “Good to know,” she looked down. Then she turned her eyes back to his. “Surely, Officer Brown,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster, “you don’t think I’m a suspect?”

“Never said that,” he quipped. “Just thought it was interesting that you came by the station this morning, asked questions about leads, and here I find you at the same spot as the abduction, that’s all.” He picked up a twig and set it between his yellowing teeth, like a toothpick. “Now, why are you here?” he asked.

“Jesus Christ,” Molly said, with a frustrated sigh, “I am looking for leads, okay?” She stepped away from him, raised her voice, “I think we’ll find them here. Why in God’s name would I abduct a small child? I mean, look at my life, it’s pretty full, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You seem to have time to wander around the woods during the day,” he said in a patronizing way.

Molly was angry. “No! I make the time. There is a difference,” she said, strongly. “I can’t believe this. Do you want to arrest me? Or maybe you can’t find leads and you feel badly, so you need someone to hang it on? Well, keep dreaming, sir,” she said with sarcasm, “because there is no correlation between me and Tracey Porter besides my own desire to help find her.” Molly put her hands on her hips, accentuating her firm stance on her innocence. “By the way,” she retorted, “have you considered consulting a psychic? Someone who might be able to see where she is?”

He laughed a hearty, condescending laugh and kicked at the leaves on the ground. “Oh yeah, and we’ve invited the Mickey Mouse Club, too,” he chuckled. “We thought maybe they could do a dance, and the abductor would magically appear.”

For a split second, Molly had considered telling him about her visions, but decided firmly against it the moment the laugh had left his lips. Thick-minded ass. “I’m being serious, Officer Brown,” she said. “There are people who might be able to help you find her,” she pleaded. “Tracey’s time must be running out—if she’s even still alive.”

“Well, statistically speaking, yes, you’re right. Her time is running out,” he said coldly.

“So? What now? Just walk around hoping to find her and accusing innocent people?” she spat the words angrily. “Oh, am I like Rodney Lett now?” she asked. “Well,” she said as she turned away from him. “I won’t be your scapegoat, Officer Brown. I have an alibi, and I have been instrumental in trying to find her.”

“Calm down, Molly,” he said, spitting the twig onto the ground. “Calm down. I’m not saying that you are a suspect. I’m simply wondering why you’re here and letting you know that the abductor usually visits the crime scene shortly after the crime.” Officer Brown watched Molly’s back as she stopped walking. “Yup, there have been cases when killers have actually been at the scene while the police were investigating, within hours of the murder.”

Molly spun around, “Well, let’s hope that you are not investigating a murder,” she said, emphatically.

“Of course,” he said casually, and he turned to walk out of the woods, hesitating a moment later. “Molly,” he said with his back to her, “let me know if you find anything here, will ya?” he continued walking away. “Officer Brown!” Molly called after him. He turned. “Were you following me, Office Brown?” she asked with a hint of concern. “How did you know I was here?”

“Actually, I wanted to catch up to you, but you had driven away. So,” he paused, motioned around with his right hand, “I suppose, yes, I followed you.” “Why?” she asked. He stared blankly at her, puzzled. “I mean, why did you want to catch up to me after I was at the station?” she asked.

“Oh!” he said jovially. “I wanted to let you know that I looked into the Rodney Lett thing, and sure enough, he was buried in Delaware, so there’s no chance that he’s part of this. There’s no correlation between the two.” He looked pleased with the news.

Molly nodded, processing the information. She couldn’t help herself, she felt compelled to throw it back at him, “Well, I wasn’t really concerned that Rodney Lett was the one who took Tracey. I was more concerned that whoever took Kate might have also taken Tracey.”

“I told you, Molly, Rodney Lett is dead and buried.”

This is a positive journey I’m on , Pastor Lett reminded herself as she drove toward the Porters’ home. She realized that she’d been reminding herself of her role quite often recently. The events of late were reminiscent of her own journey, years ago—like opening an old wound. Celia is hurting, scared, and probably feels to blame , she thought to herself . It’s my job as her pastor to ease that pain and to relieve that guilt .

Anger grew within her as she thought of the procedures the police used to try and find Tracey Porter. The systems currently in place were the same lame checks and balances, in her opinion, as they had been twenty years earlier when they had investigated the disappearance of Kate Plummer. She grasped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned from white to red. Her mind turned to Rodney. How could anyone have looked at that big lug and thought he could hurt a child? She clenched her jaw and pulled the car to the side of the road, tears clouding her vision. She remembered Rodney’s face contorting with fear and pain for Kate when she had told him she was missing.