The Innocent

Miss Sheridan leaned toward her. “You don’t want to end up like poor little Emily, do you?”

Sara Beth shook her head.

“All right. Go get back in line and see if you can behave yourself until someone comes to pick you up. It’s Wednesday, so you’ll be the last one here, I expect.”

She was right. Sara Beth didn’t see her daddy’s car until long after everyone else had gone home. She and Miss Sheridan were the only ones remaining on the sidewalk.

And even then, it was Miss Plimpton who came for her and not her daddy. Sara Beth didn’t know whether to be glad or upset. Miss Plimpton worked for Sara Beth’s daddy, but she was also his girlfriend and she didn’t like children, at least not Sara Beth, although she tried very hard not to show it around Sara Beth’s daddy.

Miss Sheridan took Sara Beth’s hand and led her over to the car. “I’m Lois Sheridan, the school director,” she told Miss Plimpton. “I know you’re on the list of people authorized to pick up Sara Beth, but I’ll have to see some identification anyway. After that terrible tragedy on Monday, we can’t be too careful.”

Miss Plimpton nodded and reached into her purse.

She held up a card for Miss Sheridan to check. “Such an awful thing. Has there been any word?”

“None. It seems the poor child vanished without a trace.” Miss Sheridan flashed Sara Beth a knowing glance, as if to say, You’re next, Sara Beth Brodie, you bad, bad little girl.

“Well, I hope she’s found soon,” Miss Plimpton said in a soft tone. “I can’t imagine what the child’s poor parents must be going through.”

“It’s just her mother. There’s no father around.” Miss Sheridan’s voice lowered, the way it had when she’d talked to Sara Beth. Her mouth got all thin looking. “They live on the east side of town, out near the highway. Not really the sort of background we encourage at Fairhaven….” She trailed off, glancing at Sara Beth again.

“I see.” Miss Plimpton drummed her red fingernails on the steering wheel. “Well, I’d better get Sara Beth over to her father. I’m sure he’s anxious to see the little darling.” She smiled over her shoulder at Sara Beth, but the dark glasses she wore hid her eyes.

They drove away from the school, and Miss Plimpton turned on the radio. There was a man talking about Emily Campbell and how she’d gotten kidnapped. How the police were still out looking for her. Miss Plimpton switched the station to one with music and started humming along with the song.

After a few moments, she pulled into a parking lot. “I have to run into the drugstore and get a prescription filled, Sara Beth. I can’t leave you in the car, so you’ll have to come inside with me. You behave yourself, you hear me? You start acting up like you did last time, and I’ll tell your daddy on you.”

“Can I get ice cream?”

“And have it melt all over Curtis’s new car? I don’t think so.”

They climbed out of the car, but Miss Plimpton didn’t take Sara Beth’s hand the way Mama always did. She let Sara Beth trail along behind her.

It was hot outside, but the drugstore was cool and dim. Kind of like a cave, Sara Beth thought. There didn’t seem to be anyone else around.

“You can go look at the coloring books if you promise not to wander off,” Miss Plimpton said. She headed toward the back of the store.

Sara Beth found the rack and stood gazing up at the coloring books. Oh, goody, she thought happily. They had Blue’s Clues. She was so tired of all that Pokemon stuff.

The door opened and someone came inside, but Sara Beth didn’t look around. She reached for the coloring book with the little blue puppy dog on the front.

“Sara Beth.”

Her name was called softly, and Sara Beth glanced over her shoulder. Miss Plimpton was nowhere in sight.

“Sara Beth, over here.”

There was something about that voice—

Sara Beth looked around for Miss Plimpton again. She even started to call out, but a hand clamped over her mouth. She was jerked off her feet, and before she even had time to struggle, she was whisked toward the front door.

“It’s okay,” the voice said in her ear. “I won’t hurt you.”

Sara Beth didn’t believe that voice. She began to squirm and kick, but the arm around her middle only tightened.

As they went out the door, Sara Beth glanced back. She couldn’t see Miss Plimpton anywhere.

Outside, the hand eased off Sara Beth’s mouth, and she let out a loud, piercing, “Mama!”

The voice in her ear cursed. The hand came back over her mouth.

“Don’t do that! I said I wouldn’t hurt you. If you want to see your mama, you better be quiet.”

They rushed over to a car parked in front of the drugstore. The back door was jerked open, and Sara Beth was flung inside. She slid across the seat and tried to open the other door, but it was locked. She couldn’t get out!

Within seconds they were driving out of the parking lot.

Sara Beth’s heart beat so fast she could hardly breathe. She wanted to get out of the car, but it was moving too fast. She didn’t know what to do.

The person in the front seat wore a cap and dark glasses. Sara Beth had thought she knew that person at first, but now she wasn’t so sure. What if a stranger had taken her?

She got up on her knees and looked out the rear window. From a distance, she saw Miss Plimpton come out of the store and gaze around the parking lot. Sara Beth beat on the glass, and for a moment, she thought Miss Plimpton had seen her. But she mustn’t have, because she turned and walked back inside the store.

Sara Beth slid down in the seat and hugged her knees tightly. She was really scared now, and for a moment, all she could think about was the way Emily Campbell’s mama had cried so hard that day at school when she found out Emily had been taken.

Sara Beth’s mama would cry, too. She’d cry and cry and cry, and the thought of that, more than anything else, made Sara Beth start to sob.

Chapter Two

Thursday

Abby sat in the sheriff’s office the next day, waiting for him to arrive. She was bone-deep weary from a nearly sleepless seventy-two hours, and frustrated and heartsick over two investigations that appeared to be going nowhere. No trace of either child had turned up despite a full-scale search, and no evidence had been found at either crime scene. Dozens of leads were being pursued, but so far, nothing concrete had turned up.

Both cases were now being treated as abductions, and the local authorities had requested assistance from the FBI. An agent from the resident agency in Oxford had arrived late yesterday afternoon, just hours after Sara Beth Brodie had been reported missing, and another agent was due to arrive later today from the field office in Jackson.

A task force had been assembled, headed by the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Department and supported by the FBI and the Mississippi Highway Patrol Crime Investigation Bureau.

Abby had been assigned to the Brodie case, although she’d asked to be put on the Campbell case. Naomi had been right yesterday when she’d said that Emily’s disappearance on the anniversary of Sadie’s abduction was the first break they’d had in ten years. Sadie’s case file had already been pulled and the information fed into the computer for analysis and comparisons.

But it was Abby’s own theory that had gotten her removed from the Campbell case. She didn’t believe, as almost everyone else seemed to, that they were dealing with only one suspect in the two recent abductions. Although ten years apart, the similarities between Sadie and Emily’s disappearances were striking, but Sara Beth Brodie’s abduction broke the pattern.

“You may be on to something,” Sheriff Mooney had told her. “I want you to pursue the Brodie case from that angle, but you’ll have to coordinate your investigation with the task force. And it goes without saying that all information will be shared.”

The glass door of the office opened, and Sheriff Mooney walked in. When he saw Abby, he nodded. “Good, you’re already here. That’ll save us some time.”

He was followed into the office by a man Abby had never seen before. The stranger was tall, dark, but far more dangerous-looking than handsome. In spite of the August heat, which could be brutal in Mississippi, he wore a navy suit, starched white shirt, and conservative tie. Abby immediately pegged him for the fed from Jackson they’d been expecting.

Even apart from his attire, he had the look of an FBI agent. His posture was ramrod straight, his demeanor tense, his senses on full alert. He was probably in his early forties, with dark hair and a deeply lined face that bespoke too many years of long hours, bad cases, and maybe just plain bad luck.