Chapter 15 Megan
MEGAN
It’s a new day. The sun is already making its presence felt as it peeps slowly behind the horizon spreading its warmth and setting the mountains aglow.
I sit on the threshold of the cabin with a mug of black coffee and allow the heat and the fresh air and the glorious view to invigorate me.
Along with the caffeine injection. I’ve never taken my coffee black before, but I can’t face milk at the moment and have replaced the creamy element with an extra spoonful of sugar.
Once Amber is home, I’ll get myself back on track.
I inhale deeply, expanding my diaphragm, and filling my lungs.
It’s the first time since Amber was stolen from me that I’ve even been able to consider what day it is, let alone appreciate the view, but with her father out of the picture, I feel as if I’ve been given my life back.
I feel as if anything is possible.
Guards are still posted outside the war room cabin. I don’t think about what’s inside; he has already used up too much of my energy over the years. It’s time to let him go, to focus on the present and finding my sister.
“It’s safe to let go.” I repeat out loud the mantra that Nikki sent me about six months ago, when I’d gotten myself into a tailspin after I thought I’d seen Amber’s father outside Hackney Railway Station.
Demi joins me then and squeezes in beside me in the open doorway, stretching her legs out in front of her. Her glance takes in the guards outside the other cabin, but she blows the surface of her coffee and sips it cautiously.
“We’re heading into Stowe after breakfast.” She keeps her eyes firmly fixed on the resort below us. “We’ve been looking at this the wrong way. We figured that he’d have hidden Amber somewhere she wouldn’t be found.”
“Like the containers.”
“Like the containers and the abandoned ski hire buildings. But that would’ve been too easy for him. All he needed to do was keep moving her around whenever we got close, but that isn’t how he works.”
I take a deep breath. “He said we’d never find her because we’re too invested.”
Demi dismisses this with a wave of her hand. “Forget that for now. It’s all mind games. If you were him, where would you have hidden her?”
My stomach clenches at the mental image of him hiding her anywhere while she screams for me to help her.
Maybe Demi senses my reluctance to consider it because she says, “If I was only interested in the game and not the results, I’d make sure she could be found.
In fact, I think this is where we’ve been going wrong.
I think he wanted us to find her and was probably disappointed when we didn’t give him the satisfaction. ”
“That’s fucking twisted.”
She swallows a mouthful of coffee. “We knew that’s what we were dealing with. I think she’s still in the resort. I don’t believe he ever left with her.”
My gaze automatically scans the picturesque town, Main Street, the lake, the ski lodges, the cable cars ferrying people to and from the top of the mountain.
“Where could she be though?” I shake my head. “And why hasn’t anyone else discovered her?”
“No one else is looking. That’s the whole point. A lot of these places are privately owned. Plenty of them will be empty most of the year; the cleaners won’t even air the place until the owners are expected to arrive. There’ll be boats moored up. Garden houses. Properties being renovated.”
“We might’ve driven past her…”
Demi nudges my arm with her elbow. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. You’ve done everything you possibly could to find her.”
“Not everything.”
“Look, from experience, most people see what they want to see. The tourists will be too wrapped up in their vacation bubble to think about much else.”
I study her profile. “So, what’s the plan?”
“We’re going to do this the NYPD way. We’re going to carry out a house-to-house. We’re going to speak to people. We’re going to make sure that everyone knows a kid has gone missing. There’s a reason why people put up missing posters.”
She stands up and offers me her hand.
Now that she has put the idea out there, I can’t help thinking that we should’ve done this sooner. I only hope we’re not too late.
The first time questioning someone is the toughest.
Demi and I enter a grocery store on Main Street and speak to the security guard watching the cash registers. Bruno, Nico, and the other men have driven down into Stowe with us, but we’ve split up to cover more ground more quickly. We’ve already wasted too much time.
“A kid was abducted a week ago from the thrift store at the end of Main Street.” Demi unlocks her phone and shows the guy a picture of Amber taken in Gio’s New York apartment.
She’s smiling in the image, her eyes wide and bright, her hair in bunches, her Barbie doll held close to her chest. “Have you seen her?”
The guy’s gaze skims my sister’s smiling face. He spends more time studying me and Demi than he does the abducted child, and my jaw tightens in a surge of anger.
“A week ago, you say?” Even his tone has no urgency to it, like he’s out for a stroll around town, nodding at tourists and raising his face to the sun. “First I’ve heard of it.”
Demi stands her ground, feet planted squarely. “Well, you’ve heard about it now. Have you seen her?”
“No, ma’am.” He half-turns his body, preparing to dismiss us, and something in his stance tells me that he already believes that Amber is either on the other side of the country or dead.
“We know that she’s still here in Stowe,” I blurt out.
His gaze slides my way. “Are you her mom?”
“Sister. I’m her legal guardian.”
He blinks while he processes this new piece of information.
Before he can respond, Demi intervenes. “Have you seen anything unusual over the past week or so? Anything at all.”
“Such as?”
I hear the sharp intake of Demi’s breath.
“A child crying. Raised voices. A property being broken into.”
He listens, but it feels as though he has already checked out. “No, ma’am,” he repeats. “Sorry I can’t assist you ladies.”
Demi turns around and walks outside, and I follow her.
“Asshole.” She stops on the sidewalk and stares across the street at the Mercantile Store. “Sorry, Meggie, but as a cop you soon realize that there are two kinds of people. Those who genuinely wish they could help but have no information, and those who could help you but choose not to.”
“You think he knows something?”
She turns to me and frowns. “No, but in his line of work, he sees a lot of people. If he dug deep, he might’ve come up with something relevant, but he didn’t want to.”
It’s a blow. I’ve always believed that most people want to help the police, they want to stay on the good side and fight the baddies, but I’m struggling to understand how this might not be the case.
“Come on.” Demi doesn’t wait around.
We follow the same pattern, entering each store along Main Street and asking the same questions.
The women study Amber’s picture with tears in their eyes—one even strokes the screen as if she might conjure my sister like a genie—but none have seen or heard anything untoward.
The men show more compassion than the first security guard, but again, they have nothing to report.
The hours tick by as the sun rises high in the sky.
We grab a coffee and a sandwich and sit outside a café while we eat. It’s easy to spot the tourists with their reflective sunglasses, designer jackets, and bottles of expensive water; it’s the locals who acknowledge us with a nod of their head or a cheery hello as they walk by.
“We’ll try the bars next.” Demi washes her lunch down with a mouthful of extra-hot mocha.
“They’ll be filling up with the lunchtime buzz, so we’ll have a captive audience.
” When I stay quiet, she adds, “Hey, don’t get disheartened.
The more people we speak to, the quicker word will spread. We’ll find her.”
I tell myself that Bruno and his men will find her in one of the empty vacation homes, that any moment now, Demi’s phone will ring, and her smile will light up her face. But we finish our meal and head inside the first bar we come to.
The results are disappointing. The tourists mean well with their concerned glances, and their good luck wishes, but I can’t help bristling when, the moment our backs are turned, they pick up the thread of the conversations they were having before we interrupted them.
I began the day filled with confidence, but it’s quickly starting to wane.
He took Amber a week ago. People have moved on.
Literally. Tourists have reached the end of their vacation and returned to their normal lives.
More tourists have arrived, still in the early flush of vacation excitement, the long days of pleasure stretching ahead of them while they snuggle inside this surreal world where money isn’t real and time has its own dimension.
We hop from bar to bar, flashing Amber’s picture at everyone we meet, quizzing the staff and asking them when they last checked their basements.
In the hotels, Demi asks to search the empty rooms, and my pulse quickens each time she swipes the lock with a key card, but still, we keep drawing blanks.
Working methodically, we loop around the town and head to the lodges on the lower slopes.
We’re approaching the third lodge late in the afternoon when the door opens and a group of tourists spills out, laughter and music and loud voices seeping out through the doorway before it swings shut behind them.
Demi’s police badge is already in her hand as she flashes it towards the tallest member of the group, a broad-shouldered guy with sandy hair, and strong jawline.
“Alright, lads?” Her eyes flicker around the group as she pockets the badge and replaces it with her phone.
“We’re investigating the abduction of a five-year-old girl.
Can you spare us a couple of minutes to answer a few questions? ”
“Sure.” The tall guy inclines his head and studies Amber’s photograph.
“When did you guys arrive?” Demi asks.