The Girl in the Woods

 

He sighed. "I have a meeting at the courthouse in fifteen minutes. I don't have much time." He was a broad-shouldered man a few inches over six feet tall, with just a hint of thickness through his middle. His dark hair, with a sprinkling of gray that added a layer of dignity, was parted to the side and perfectly in place. His face had been neatly shaved that morning as it was every morning, and the creases in his uniform sleeves looked like they could slice paper. He gave the impression that in his fifty-three years on the earth he had never once been at a loss for what to do or say. He looked like a man born to command. "So, what can I do for you?"

 

 

 

"Okay. Have you ever heard of a girl named Margie Todd? Margaret Todd would be her full name."

 

 

 

For just a moment, and almost imperceptibly, Dan's face altered. He moved his head back about an inch, and the mask of professional composure he always wore—what Diana thought of as his "cop face"—was replaced by a look of genuine surprise. Then the professional look quickly returned. "Why do you ask about that?"

 

 

 

"So you have heard of her?

 

"Sure. She's the girl who ran off a number of years ago. Why do you ask?"

 

 

 

"You think she ran away?"

 

 

 

"In the absence of any other information, yes. You still haven't answered my question."

 

 

 

Diana nodded. Fair enough. "I ran into her mother."

 

 

 

Dan's face twisted, like he had eaten something sour. "That crazy old lady. She's still kicking?"

 

 

 

"Barely. She has terminal lung cancer."

 

 

 

"Oh." He didn't seem bothered by the news.

 

"She wants to know what happened to her daughter before she gets her ticket punched."

 

 

 

"And she came to you for help? Why?"

 

 

 

Diana looked down at her hands, which were clutching the armrests on her chair.

 

"Diana?"

 

 

 

"She says she'll tell me where Rachel is if I find out what happened to her daughter."

 

 

 

"Aw, Diana. And you fell for something like that?"

 

 

 

"Don't patronize me, Dan." Diana felt her cheeks flush. "I know how to read people. She seemed like she really knew something."

 

 

 

Diana's voice must have gone higher than she intended. Dan held his hands out in a placating gesture, then stood up and came around to her side of the desk and shut the office door. Only a few people in New Cambridge knew about Rachel's disappearance, and of them, Dan certainly knew the most. When he sat down again, his face showed something that might have been compassion and might have been pity. Diana couldn't decide which.

 

"I'm not questioning your judgment," he said. "I am suggesting that it might be clouded by your desire—"

 

 

 

"Dan—"

 

 

 

He held up his hand again. "...clouded by your desire to find your sister as well as your own guilt over what might have happened to her. It's impossible for this woman to know anything about your sister. Think about it for a minute. How could she?"

 

 

 

Diana didn't respond. She knew Kay couldn't know anything worthwhile. In the cold light of Dan's office, through his eyes, Kay Todd's promise did seem far-fetched and ridiculous. "I don't know," Diana said finally. "She didn't say."

 

 

 

"How are you, Diana? Really?"

 

 

 

"I'm fine. Really."

 

 

 

"I've meant to call or email to check in..."

 

 

 

"But Janine wouldn't like that very much, would she?"

 

 

 

Dan stiffened, and Diana knew she had crossed a line by saying his wife's name out loud. She wasn't sure she had ever spoken it before. Certainly not in Dan's presence. And ultimately, he decided to ignore her transgression and move on.

 

"I suggest you not get tangled up in helping this Todd woman. She isn't right, and this case is ancient history. You don't want to go poking around into things like that. The girl's long gone, and you have better things to do with your life."

 

 

 

"And you're qualified to know that?"

 

 

 

He leaned back. "You're right. I can't tell you what to do. But you came here asking me about the case..."

 

 

 

"And that's all you know about it? She's long gone, presumed to be a runaway, and her mother's a kook. You were on the force then. You must remember something."

 

 

 

Dan took a deep breath. He brought his right hand up and rubbed his chin, pinching the loose skin that hung there between his thumb and forefinger.

 

"I was one of the first officers to respond when her mother called us."

 

 

 

"You were?"

 

 

 

"Yeah. Her mother didn't hear from her for a week or so, so she decided to come down. No one had seen her, so the mother called us. We went through her room, canvassed the neighbors and all of her friends. Nothing."

 

 

 

"And that was it?"

 

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