Chapter 33

In the town of Bedford, New Hampshire, a very concerned investigator searched the play area of the private school across the street. He had rented this room in the old boarding house on purpose, as it gave him a complete view of the children enjoying their one day a week of free time. In order to get this room each weekend he’d told the owner that he was a ‘pulpit supply’ preacher for a small country church about ten miles outside of Bedford. He paid her for two months in advance, and she’d agreed to keep the same room available for him each weekend.

Now, as he sat in the shadows of the room scanning the large open area across the street with his binoculars he was unable to find the person he was supposed to be watching. It had been less than three weeks since one of his team had trailed the little girl from Phoenix to this school. A storm the previous weekend had kept the children inside, so this was their first attempt to monitor her in this way.

He thought to himself, Maybe she’s being punished for something, or she could be sick with any one of a thousand things that children that age seemed to quite commonly encounter. Still, for some reason, things just didn’t feel right. It wasn’t anything tangible, but over the years as a police officer, and now a private investigator, he’d learned to trust those feelings. They’d saved his life more than once. Not sure what else to do, he called his team leader.

“Hello?”

“Ted, it’s Brad. I’m not sure, but we may have a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“It’s a beautiful fall day in New Hampshire. I’m watching the kids from the school playing games, running around, and having a good time.”

“So?” Ted interrupted.

“The problem is the Brockman girl isn’t one of them.”

“Oh! Now that could be a problem. Of course, there are plenty of likely reasons, but I guess we’d better check it out. Do you want to check on her as her concerned pastor?”

“Ted, we don’t even know if she goes to church, much less what denomination. I thought about the florist option, but this is a small town. I’m too likely to be spotted and arrested as a pedophile.”

“How about using the florist idea, but using a real florist?”

“I don’t know if one is open on a Sunday Afternoon, but I can try.”

“Good, just keep me posted.” Brad went downstairs and asked Mrs Turner, the owner of the boarding house, to borrow a phone book.

“Reverend Crawford, is there something particular you wanted?”

Thinking quickly, he answered, “I spotted one of the students across the street that looks like a little girl that attended my church on Long Island. If she’s who I think she is my late wife and her grandmother were good friends. She looked all alone, so I want to send her some flowers.”

“My, that’s a sweet sentiment for a little child. None of the shops are open, but the wife of one of my nephews owns one of the nicer florist shops in the area. Let me call her and see if she would be willing to prepare something for you.”

“That would be nice, but understand, I’m still not sure it was really Melissa.”

“That’s OK. We can easily find out.”

Brad asked, “How’s that?”

“I can call as the florist and say I have flowers to deliver. Then, if you’re right, I’ll call my nephew; otherwise you’ll know it’s not the same child.”

“You would do that for me? Why?”

Mrs Turner responded, “You would send flowers to a lonely child. It doesn’t take a logical reason to make a child feel loved. It’s the reason in itself.” A short time later Mrs Turner hung up the phone and looked sadly at her border. “I’m sorry, Reverend, but they’ve no record of a Melissa Brockman ever attending the school.”

“Oh, well. Thank you for trying.”

“You’re welcome, and it was still a very touching idea. I have some fresh cherry cobbler in the oven. Would you like some?”

“Yes, Ma’am, but I need a few minutes to finish preparing for tonight’s service.”

“That’s fine, just come down when you’re ready. I’ll keep some warm for you. Also, if you wouldn’t mind, I might like to go with you tonight to hear you preach.”

Frightened, but trying not to show it, Brad said, “That would be fine.”

Mrs Turner headed down the stairs, and Brad returned to the room and locked the door. Pulling his cell phone from his coat he called his team leader for the second time. When Ted answered Brad said, “We’ve definitely got a problem. The school now says they’ve no record of ever having a student named Melissa Brockman.”

“But, we saw the school records.”

“I know, but it looks like someone has altered them. Now, I need you to do two things: Call the client, and then call me back in about fifteen minutes on the boarding house phone. In a fairly loud voice say the church ‘called’ a new preacher this morning, and he’s to start tonight. Thank me for my work, but advise me my services are no longer needed.”

“What’s the reason for that?”

“Missus Turner was a great help this afternoon, but she wants to go hear me preach tonight. This would head that off, and would also be my reason for no longer coming each weekend. I should be able to get out of here without raising any suspicions.”

“Consider it done.”

A few moments later Deke Templeton’s home phone rang. He and his family were enjoying the pleasant fall weather with a cook out. His oldest daughter was the closest, so she answered the phone.

“Daddy, it’s for you.”

Frustrated for being called at that moment, he asked her, “Who is it?”

“I don’t know his voice, but he asked for Mister Templeton.”

Thinking it was another telemarketer Deke answered gruffly, “Deke Templeton. May I help you?”

“Mister Templeton, this Ted at ISS. We have a problem.”

“Does that mean you have a problem, or that I have a problem?

“I would say we both have a problem. Two weeks ago we were able to verify Melissa Brockman was a student at the school. When we didn’t spot her out playing this afternoon we checked with the school. According to our sources they now show they’ve never heard of her.”

“And it took you two weeks to determine this?”

“Sir, we can only observe from outside the school. The only time most of them are in the open is on Sunday afternoon. That was our schedule, but last weekend there was a heavy rain, so they weren’t outside. Understand, it’s not like we can easily put someone on campus.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I let it get to me. What do you propose?

“We’ll do some of the normal missing child activity. Beyond that, we’re very limited to what we can do. It’s not like we can interview other kids or teachers, like we normally would.”

“I can appreciate that. Are you available for more work if we get any leads?”

“Certainly, just give us a call.”

Deke sadly hung up the phone and dialed Hawk. He hated to be the bearer of bad news, but he was glad Hawk wasn’t one to shoot the messenger. Brenda answered the phone when it rang, and Deke recognized her voice. “Brenda, is Hawk around? It’s Deke.”

“He sure is. Hold on a second.” She handed the phone to Hawk and said, “It’s Deke.”

“Hey, Deke. How’s it going on this beautiful Sunday afternoon?”

“It was going pretty good until I received a distressing phone call. The investigators that were trying to keep track of your daughter say she’s missing. What’s worse is the school says they’ve never had a student by the name of Melissa Brockman.”

“Didn’t they verify she was registered there, earlier?”

“We’re certain of that. One of the team visited the school the Saturday after Melissa was here in Phoenix. Pretending to be a mother looking for a school for her daughter, she saw the name on a report in one of the classrooms.”

“But no one’s seen her since?”

“The way the place is structured the only free time the students have is Sunday afternoon. Our investigator had arranged to stay in an upper room of a boarding house across the street, expecting to be able to observe her during the free time. Last weekend there was a heavy rainstorm and none of the children were outside. This week, when he didn’t spot her, he had a florist try to deliver some flowers, but the florist was told by a person in the administration office they never had a student named Melissa Brockman.”

Listening to Deke, Hawk was very frustrated, but from his attorney and friend’s description there was little the investigating team could’ve done differently. Still, the fact her name was there earlier hinted to him someone had been playing around in the computer. Well, he thought, two can play that game. Hawk’s silence was causing Deke some concern, but he instantly felt better when Hawk said, “Well, I guess Candice won round two, but it’s a fifteen round fight. I need you to find out everything possible about the school, including its web address, major personnel, and their e-mail addresses.”

A relieved Deke replied, “I’ll get them right on it.”

“You might also have them check to see if Candice has stayed at any of the hotels around the school since the child’s visit to Phoenix. Just remember, she wouldn’t have stayed in anything less than a four star hotel.”

“From what I understand from our investigator, there aren’t any of those in the area. Boston would have the closest place to find one of those.”

“OK, just have them do the best they can. Also tell them it’s a ten thousand dollar bonus if they can locate the child before I can.”

“I’ll call them right away.”

Hawk replied, “Good. I need to let you know I’m going to be out of touch for a few days. The girls and Dan will know how to get a hold of me in case of an emergency, or if you’ve news about the child.”

“What should I do with the information I come up with about the school?”

“Send it to Dan.”

“Will do.”

As a saddened Hawk hung up the phone Brenda and Maria rushed to his side. They hadn’t heard a word of Deke’s side of the conversation, but they’d quickly put enough together from Hawk’s side to have a pretty good idea of what happened. A concerned Brenda asked, “Hawk, are you OK?”

“I think so, though I’d feel a whole lot better if I knew the child was safe. I can’t picture Candice doing anything purposely to hurt the child, but then, Candice has fooled me so many times I really can’t say, for sure, what she’d do. I’ve learned this much, whatever she did, it was primarily to protect herself, not for the good of the child.”

At that moment, less than fifty miles away, Connie Taylor and her ‘daughter’ Katrina were leaving the birthday party of a new friend she’d made at school. The child was bubbling with happiness, and like a virus, it seemed to affect those with whom she came in contact. This was especially true of Connie, who was happier than she’d been in more than seven years. That happiness even spilled over at Connie’s work, as suddenly the dining facility at the prison was no longer a place of despair with food barely fit for human consumption. Connie had convinced the new Warden to let her decorate the eating area, though he could’ve never imagined it having the effect it seemed to have upon the prison population. There hadn’t been a fight in the dining hall since it had been redecorated. Also, several of the men had worked with her to learn to make flowery decorations for the tables. Her happiness also spread over into another area, the food itself. It began when she started spending less time in her office doing administrative duties, and more time in the kitchen. Within two days she’d fired three of the cooks and four of the servers. When she had a difficult time replacing them she met with some local restaurant cooks, the town of Buckeye had no one that could be termed a chef, and teamed them up with some of the inmates who expressed an interest in learning to cook. Using the money saved from the reduction in staff and from smarter shopping she greatly improved the quality of the food being purchased, and the new cooks applied their recently acquired knowledge to the food’s preparation. Soon, even the guards and the Warden were eating the same food as the prisoners.

As Katrina and Connie climbed into her car Connie asked, “Well, did you have a good time?”

“Oh yes, Mommy. I’ve made more friends here in just two weeks than I had in that other school in two years.”

“So, you’re happier now?”

“I can’t imagine being any happier. I’ve time with you everyday. I’ve my own room we’ve decorated like I want. I’ve other kids to play with. I’ve a school where everyone is friendly and interested in me as a person, not in how rich and powerful my parents are. I’m even enjoying the weather here, rather than the cold winter of New Hampshire.”

A surprised Connie said, “You knew you were in New Hampshire?”

“Mommy, I know all the states, and their shapes. I know their capitals, and can find them on a map.”

“But you’re only seven years old!”

“I know. I’ve always been smarter than the other kids my age, but I work hard to hide it. Several of my teachers in the old school figured it out, though, and encouraged me to learn all I could. I can read and add and subtract, and I was learning my multiplication tables.”

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Mike Lowe aka The Scot

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