Chapter 8: Vanished

Bailey left the school office fuming. They told her nothing, except that she was withdrawn from school. Her next stop was the Phelan house.

“Go away, slut!” snarled Peggy, slamming her door in Bailey’s unsurprised face. Molly had disappeared for days now with no explanation.

The last time they had talked, Molly expressed hope that her list of rules would help calm the waters with her parents. Her disappearance caught Bailey off guard.

“Daughter, what’s bothering you? Something’s happened; wait, is it Molly?” asked Patrick. Bailey burst into anguished sobs. Minutes went by before she could explain to him the cause of her distress.

“They’ve sent her away to some terrible place. I just know it! I don’t know what to do! Oh, Daddy!”

Again, she was wailing; her face smashed into his chest.

“I think I am upset as she is. I was already preparing for her to move in here and get away from her toxic parents. Bailey’s right. They’ve sent her away, I’m sure of it. Probably to some, oh, shit. They wouldn’t. Would they?”

“Jordan just got away from them a few days ago, right? To, uh, Canada?”

“Yeah (Sniff). Her aunt Lisa lives there in the Vancouver area, and she took her in. Molly said they were furious that Jordan defied them. They must be doing something to keep her locked away and under their control. And there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Patrick made a quick decision. It tore at him to see his daughter so distraught, and his own tender feelings for Molly were right in front of his mind as well.

“All right, Molly, sit in the side chair; we need to talk. I haven’t been completely honest with you, and I’m sorry.”

“Daddy?”

“I sold my company two months ago, on the condition I stay on a president. So, don’t worry, I’m still employed. I’m going to have a more reasonable work schedule now, though.”

“OK, that’s good, but...”

“Sorry, I’m getting to it. Bailey, they paid me an enormous, staggering, huge amount of money. Not so much for the company, as for the technology ... Anyway, when you have this much money, what doesn’t seem possible becomes very possible.”

“Whatever it takes, I’m going to find Molly Phelan, wherever she is. I promise. I’m going to free her and bring her home. Home to us.”

What Patrick didn’t share with his daughter were his suspicions. He had done a little investigating already, concerned about Molly’s home life. He had learned about the Phelans’ pastor, McHenry, and his reputation.

Had this pastor assisted the parents in sending her somewhere? Clearly, Michael Phelan couldn’t afford on his own the cost of kidnapping and holding his daughter somewhere secret.

He assured Bailey, without providing specifics, that he would find Molly. In two days, he had Phelan’s phone records, which was easy since he only had an old-fashioned landline. Then he had their bank account. Within days, he knew she was in Camp Job.

“What’s next? How do we get her out?”

Across from him was Armond Cranston, a lawyer Patrick had hired based on his experience and connections in the “troubled teen” industry.

“I was prepared to turn you down, because I usually help families with their completely out-of-control spoiled teens. But two, no, three things stopped me. First, in spite of your boring little office here, I found out that you’re filthy rich. Second, this Camp Job, or Jobe, is completely dirty. They paid off the county sheriff and violated every minimum standard. Third, I was able to verify that, uh, Molly has a spotless record with the school and the police. No misbehavior that would justify sending her to any kind of facility.”

“That’s right, Molly is a very straight arrow.”

“So, I need to discover how and why this mess happened. Then we can go about getting her out of there.”

“I’ve been thinking about it. I remember Molly saying her family was almost out of money, and that’s why they didn’t, or couldn’t, fight to get her younger sister back when she fled to Canada to live with her aunt.”

“Really? OK, so how did they arrange for kidnapping her to Utah and putting her in this camp?”

“A lot of the money came from outside, for sure. They had mysterious deposits that covered the checks they wrote for ‘transport’ and ‘camp’ fees. I think it comes from the church they belong to.”

“Alright, that gives me something to start on.” He was flipping through his notebook and then named the church.

“Yeah, that’s the one. We’re all set with your retainer?”

“No worries. If this works out like I think it will, it’s going to be good for everybody.”