Before She Was Found(53)

Jordyn nods. “You told them you left Cora and Violet at the train yard, right?” Again, Jordyn nods and her eyes begin to fill. “No,” Thomas says sternly. “No tears, Jordyn. This is important. When they come back around, you tell them the exact same thing. You were going to go to the train yard but you stopped before you actually got there. You took a drink of beer, dumped it out and then you left. The girls were fine when you left and then you came straight home.”

Thomas waits for Jordyn to nod in understanding and then reaches out and runs a calloused palm across Jordyn’s sleep-rumpled hair. “You left your book bag at the train yard, but don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll find it.”

“Grandpa—” Jordyn’s forehead creases in confusion “—but I didn’t...”

“Shh, I know,” Thomas says, trying to gentle his voice. “Don’t worry, we can get you a new one for school if need be. Next time just don’t be so careless. They’ll ask you what was inside and you’ll tell them you had your pajamas and social studies book in there. And your house key. That’s all, right?” He waits for Jordyn to agree and when she doesn’t, Thomas says, “Jordyn, I found that map in your backpack and that list. There was blood on your jacket. Do you understand how that would look to the police?”

Jordyn nods and bites her lip. “Nothing bad was supposed to happen. I don’t know how she got hurt so bad, Grandpa. I promise. I didn’t do anything.”

“Okay. You just tell them you left the backpack at the train yard, got it?” Jordyn nods again. Thomas stands and goes to the kitchen sink and looks out the window.

With forced cheerfulness Thomas returns and drops a kiss atop Jordyn’s head, saying, “I called the hospital and talked to Cora’s mom earlier. She says Cora is doing better and is up for visitors. Go on and get dressed and we’ll go see her.”

A spasm of alarm crosses Jordyn’s face and she looks ready to protest. “No arguments,” Thomas says, though in the back of his mind he can hear Tess telling him that he should wait until Cora is home from the hospital before taking Jordyn to see her in such a state. That it might be too upsetting to her.

He tries to nudge Tess’s intrusion from his head. “We’ll stop and see Grandma and then your friend. I think that will be a nice thing to do, don’t you? Cora is one of your best friends, right?”

“Right,” Jordyn repeats.

“You know,” Thomas says. “You girls are lucky. Even Cora. Her mom says she’s got quite the head injury and may have to have plastic surgery on her face, but the stab wound wasn’t as bad as it could have been. She could have died. You all could have died.”

Thomas watches Jordyn’s face. He sees fear and revulsion. Good, he thinks. This is why he’s taking her to see Cora. Jordyn needs to know that it’s dangerous for three little girls to go out in the middle of the night. Not that he thinks they were asking for it; he doesn’t think that at all. But it would have never happened if they had just stayed put like they were supposed to.

“Then go on, Jordyn, go on now and get ready,” he orders.

Jordyn pushes herself away from the table in resignation and slouches off. Thomas hopes he’s not making a big mistake. But wouldn’t it look more suspicious if Jordyn didn’t go to visit Cora? Wouldn’t she look guiltier?



Beth Crow


Tuesday, April 17, 2018


Pitch is a small town so you’d think there’d only be a few places Violet could hide but really there are dozens: back home, Jordyn’s house, school, Hickory Park, even outside of town where there are miles and miles of winding gravel roads. Hickory Park is in the far southwest part of town, the school is closed for spring break and I don’t think she would go back home.

“Try the depot,” Max says.

“Why?” I ask. “Wouldn’t that be the last place she’d go?” I ask, thinking Violet would be terrified, worried that the monster who stabbed Cora could be there.

“She’s been hanging around there with her friends a lot lately. I think that’s where they filmed the movie for their school project. There’s lots of places she could hide,” he explains. I had no idea that Violet was spending time at the train yard. I have so many questions but decide to save them for later.

My phone rings and I hand it to Max to answer.

“Hello,” he says. “Yeah... No, we haven’t found her yet, either. We’re heading to the train yard in case Violet went there.” He hangs up. “Officer Grady,” he tells me.

“Yeah, I figured.” Part of me wishes that Max hadn’t told Grady where we were headed. His mere presence freaks Violet but I couldn’t exactly tell my son to lie to the police.

I take the same road we drove the other night and park next to the boarded-up depot building. A bright red-and-white sign warns me against trespassing but I get out of my car, anyway, after telling Max to stay put. The train station doesn’t look quite as scary as it did in the dark of night but with the tall, weedy grass and the abandoned rusty boxcars it’s still eerie.

With one foot I test the steps that lead up to the depot platform. The wood cracks and pops with my weight so instead I hoist myself up, the rough concrete biting into my knees and the palms of my hands. I stand, brush the grit and dirt from my hands, and look out over the train yard. A scrap of yellow crime tape lies on the ground near where Violet collapsed. The only sound I hear is the rustle of the tall winter wheat waving back and forth in the light breeze.