20. Paralysis #2
For one second, I see her again. Annie, not the pieces around her. Her wrist. Her face. The way she is standing in my hallway, asking me not to put her on the same side as him.
That doesn’t give me a way out. I can’t do this right now.
I pick up the phone and call the sheriff.
The first hour is all movement.
Alvarez gets Ellie’s description, height, clothes, backpack, last known plan, phone location, and the route from clinic to Rhea Calder’s house. I give him facts. The only ones I can give him right now.
“So Annie never saw Ellie arrive at the clinic?” the sheriff confirms.
“No, she didn’t.”
“And where is Annie now?”
“She was upset. Said she was going out to look for Ellie.
Rhea calls back none of her friends have seen Ellie. Rhea called the school and the teachers activated their call down to start advising the community to keep an eye out for Ellie and anything out of the ordinary.
Jesus, no. Not out of the ordinary. I won’t survive that again.
The sheriff says they have started a phone bank at the station. Volunteers manning calls, taking down any tip or lead that comes in.
Jake shows up at the clinic. Annie called him. He takes one look at me. “Where do you want me?”
“The marina,” I say. “Docks. Waterfront. Anywhere near boats.”
“I’m on it.”
He looks at me before he leaves, nods, and then leaves.
I should be grateful she called him. I am. Somewhere under all this, I am.
By six-thirty, the town is mobilized. When a kid is missing, everyone is helping.
Mrs. Bellamy calls to say she saw a girl with a backpack walking fast three streets over but cannot swear it was Ellie.
“Which direction?” I ask.
“Toward the school. I’m sorry, Doc, I didn’t think anything of it.”
“Thank you.”
I hang up and drive that direction anyway. I check the school, then the market and the waterfront.
The pier is empty, I yell her name anyway.
“El!”
A man walking his dog turns around.
I check behind the public restrooms. I check the walkway near the old stadium. I check the alley beside the bakery, even though she hates that alley and says it looks like where raccoons go to plot garbage escapades.
Nothing.
At seven-fifteen, I am back at the clinic. Annie is driving by and pulls in.
She walks up. “She wasn’t in the clinic, Doc. I swear to you.”
“I believe you.”
“Do you?”
“I believe you didn’t know she was there.”
Annie nods once. “Right.” She turns away first.
I should fix it. I should find some better version of myself and put him in charge.
My phone rings. The sheriff.
I answer while walking back to my car. When I turn, she’s gone.
By eight, the search has a pattern: grids and people looking everywhere.
By nine, the grids include: school, waterfront, market, marina, beach access, and downtown. Methodically looking in every nook and cranny.
Every place is empty. Every call starts to sound the same.
No, Doc.
Sorry, Doc.
We’ll keep looking, Doc.
At ten, the rain starts coming down hard.
Hard enough that some have to quit for the night. I stop looking too closely at dark shapes.
A backpack near a fence turns into a trash bag. A jacket near the curb turns into a wet towel.
A girl with long hair outside the market turns around and is not my daughter.
Every wrong answer takes a chunk out of me.
At eleven, Alvarez finds me near the waterfront.
His coat is wet. His face is tired. I know what he is going to say before he says it.
“No.”
“Doc.”
“No.”
“We’re not stopping. Patrol stays active. Phones stay active. But I’m pulling civilians out of wooded areas and off the rocks until daylight.”
“She is fourteen.”
“I know Doc. And you know this too.”
“She is still out there somewhere.”
“I know that too.”
“Then don’t tell me to go home.”
“I’m telling you to go home and wait for her there. I’m telling you if you don’t, I’m impounding your car until morning. I don’t care about your background Doc. People make bad choices when they’re scared, Navy vet or not.”
I step closer.
He does not move.
“I am not going home to wait.”
“Would you prefer to wait in a jail cell? I’m not about to let you do something stupid and make me explain to Ellie tomorrow, when we find her, that she’s lost another parent.”
I turn away before Alvarez sees that wreck me. A fucking low blow.
At eleven-thirty, I’m in my kitchen staring at Ellie’s shoes by the door and her sweatshirt over the back of a chair.
Her cereal bowl from breakfast is still in the sink. I told her to rinse it. She told me future Ellie would handle it after school. I told her future Ellie was going to resent present Ellie’s choices.
She rolled her eyes and said future Ellie could take it up with her later.
I grip the edge of the counter. I have reached the end of my tether.
I send out the bat signal: Ellie is missing.
Within thirty seconds, the first face appears in our call, Admiral. In another two minutes everyone is here, including Sara and Bella.
Once everyone is with me, they give me the space to tell them what is going on. I do.
Badly at first.
Then better, since Admiral interrupts only to confirm the order of events.
This is how my best friends, my brothers learn about Annie. Not one bats an eye or asks a question. Their sole focus is on Ellie.
When I stop talking, I close my eyes.
I did not know how badly I needed them until this second and I suddenly can’t help thinking about this same call… the night Beth was killed.
Admiral sees it on my face. “Listen to me Doc. Snap out of this. This is not Beth. Got it? Now, we’re going to think. You’re going to answer. No spiraling. Understood?”
“I’m tracking.”
“Good, now where does Ellie go when she’s upset?” Stone asks.
“Waterfront. Sometimes the bench near the pier. School field. Her room.”
“All checked?” Herc asks.
“Yes.”
“Friends?”
“Erin, her best friend called, they started a phone tree. Called every island kid tonight. Nothing.”
“Would she hide to punish you?” Sara asks.
“No.” I answer too fast.
Sara does not back off. “Would she hide since she’s hurt and embarrassed and doesn’t know how to come home yet?”
That one I can’t dismiss.
“I don’t know.”
“Where would she go if she wanted no one to ask questions?”
“Library. Water. Maybe the marina.”
“Checked?” Herc says.
“Yes.”
“Where has she felt good since you moved?” Bella asks.
I lean back against the counter.
“Erin’s house. Annie’s.” I swallow hard. “Fishing. The market. The clinic, though she’d deny it.”
“Would she go to Annie’s after what she heard?” Bella asks.
“No.”
“Would she go back to the clinic?”
“If she came back, someone would have seen her.”
Stone says, “Does she have any forts or places she likes to go for alone time?”
“No.”
“Doc.” Sara says, “Where would Ellie go if she wanted her mom?”
I look at Ellie’s shoes by the door.
Beth.
For hours, I have searched the map of Ellie’s life here.
I forgot Beth’s.
“Oh God.”
“What?” Admiral asks.
“The waterfall.”
No one speaks over me.
I am already moving, grabbing my coat, getting my keys… explaining on the way.
“Beth loved this waterfall when we were stationed here before Ellie was born. She used to go there when she needed to think. There’s a spot behind it, a small cave.”
“Does Ellie know that?” Stone asks.
“Yes, I told her the story. More than once. Beth coming home soaked and laughing. Beth making me promise not to tell anyone, then me telling Ellie. She loved that it was something private of Beth’s she could have.”
“Has she been there?”
“No.”
“Could she find it?”
I grab my keys.
“Fucking yes.” Ellie would remember that. She remembers everything about her mother.
I put on my coat.
“You wait for backup.” Admiral says.
“I don’t have time. It’s a tricky climb in the day and dangerous at night. I’m not waiting.”
“Bie.”
“If she’s there, she has been there for hours. It's cold and wet here.” That shuts them up.
“I’ll call Sheriff Alvarez from the car.”
“How long until you get there?”
“Fifteen-minute drive, maybe twenty in the rain.”
“If we don’t hear from you in thirty we call everyone.”
I am at the front door when Bella says my name again.
“Doc.”
I stop.
“Bring her home.”
My throat closes.
“I will.”
Herc’s voice cuts in. “Update in ninety minutes. If we don’t hear from you, we’re all on our way.”
I hang up. They get it.
The road out of town is wet and black under the headlights. I drive too fast, then make myself take five miles off the speedometer. That’s the best I can do.
The whole night has narrowed to one place I told my daughter about since I wanted her to know her mother had existed here. Not as a photograph. Not as a story people told with sad eyes. As a woman who got wet and laughed and found places to be alone when life got too loud.
I gave Ellie that.
I never thought she would need it more than she would need me.
My hands close on the wheel.
“I’m coming, Ellie.”