Chapter Thirty-Eight

After breakfast Friday morning, Maddy went back upstairs to the room she’d been using. Lying on her bed, she watched the bare treetops in Daniel’s backyard waving in the wind outside the window. She could hear him hammering on something downstairs.

She let her mind drift, trying not to think about anything, though a few thoughts did float into view. Emma and the others would be at school right now. What was her mom doing?

People must be looking for her. She wasn’t quite ready to be found, though.

For now, she liked having a hideaway here. This room had become her nest, her own spot. It was kind of bare, but she liked that. No clutter. The walls were a faded light brown, with blank rectangles of darker brown in spots where she figured there used to be pictures. There was a blind on the double window, but no curtains. The room smelled a bit musty, or maybe it was just Tucker’s doggy smell; he’d been coming in several times a day, paws whispering on the wood floor, to jump on the bed and snooze. She smiled. She liked having him there.

The bed was narrow, with a standing lamp beside it. Daniel had brought the lamp so she could read in bed. Or draw. Her two main activities.

She tried not to think about her mom. She’s not my mom. The test said so. But those thoughts made her ache inside, and she had to bite her lips hard to keep tears away.

“You have a good imagination,” Daniel had said at breakfast, when he saw the drawing she’d made. It was an imaginary scene this time—a castle hidden in a forest. She’d made the forest a thick, deep green. It was an enchanted castle. “And I’m not surprised you like drawing. Kelly was always artistic too.”

She didn’t know what to say when he mentioned Kelly. She didn’t feel any connection to her.

Tucker was lying on the floor beside the bed, but now he raised his head. He got to his feet and headed down the stairs. She could hear him barking at the front door. What was he barking at?

Daniel came rushing upstairs, giving her urgent whispered instructions. “I’m closing your door,” he said. “There’s someone here. I’ll get rid of them if I can, but just stay quiet. Be careful—don’t make a sound until they’re gone.”

Maddy shivered, her throat suddenly tight. Was the outside world about to come crashing in?

****

Daniel made sure Hannah was settled upstairs before he opened the front door. His heart sank when he saw a police officer standing on the porch, and he suppressed a shiver. Not a cop now, for God’s sake. They were so close to leaving. Another day and they would have already been gone.

He recognized this cop. He was Mac’s friend, the one who’d searched his house that night when the girl went missing. Daniel tried to dredge up his name, but it was gone, if he’d ever remembered it.

The officer stepped forward. “Hi, Daniel. Remember me? I’m Bob Russo, with the Ottawa Police. May I come in?”

Daniel nodded. “All right, come in.” He pulled Tucker back from the door. “Don’t mind my dog,” he said. “He barks to let me know there’s a visitor, but he’ll never bite. He’s my pal, keeps me company.”

His mind was working furiously. Had someone seen Hannah and called the cops? Was he here to look for her again?

She wasn’t even hidden; the only thing concealing her was a door.

The cop turned toward the living room. “Can we sit down? I have something I need to tell you.”

The living room was empty apart from one shabby easy chair that Daniel had hung on to so he’d have somewhere to sit and watch TV, back before he hid the set. “You can sit there,” he offered, before bringing in one of the kitchen chairs for himself.

Tucker came and lay down on the floor alongside his chair.

Daniel was puzzled. This didn’t seem like the lead-in to a search of the house; last time they didn’t sit down for a conversation. He stayed quiet, waiting to hear what the guy—Bob, was it?—had to say.

“We talked before about Maddy Koss,” said Bob. “You had an interest in her, before she went missing.”

Daniel frowned. Was that a question? “I’ve seen the posters,” he said. “She hasn’t been found yet?”

“No, she hasn’t. We’re investigating, and we hope to locate her soon. But I’m here to talk about your original interest. You said you thought she was your granddaughter.”

A muscle in Daniel’s cheek twitched. He tilted his head.

I didn’t just think it. I was sure.

Bob leaned forward. “Are you aware the police lab in Edmonton still had DNA from Hannah?”

Daniel stared at him. What was this?

Bob continued. “They’ve compared that DNA to Maddy’s now. Do you want to know what they discovered?”

His mouth suddenly dry, Daniel fidgeted in his chair.

“There is no match.” Bob’s eyes bored into his. “Maddy is not Hannah. They’re two different girls.”

Daniel stared at him blankly.

Bob leaned closer. “Did you hear me? This settles the question. You’ve been wrong all along. Maddy is not Hannah. I have a copy of the report here for you.” He held out some papers, but Daniel ignored him.

Daniel found himself on his feet, shaking and unable to speak. He fought to keep the words from penetrating. He turned and stared at nothing, his vision blurring.

This can’t be. That report’s wrong.

But Bob’s words battered their way into Daniel’s brain, insisting on breaking through. He staggered into the hallway and bent over, leaning his hands on his knees, his breathing fast and shallow.

He couldn’t accept this. Patricia, this can’t be right!

A sour fluid rose in his gullet, and he fought it back down. Everything was swirling, and his vision went dark.

****

Daniel was half-sitting, half-lying in the easy chair. He could hear Bob’s voice, but it sounded hollow, as if it were echoing down a deep well.

“Daniel? I have a glass of water. Would you like a sip?”

Obediently, Daniel drank. A few drops ran down the side of his chin, and he struggled to sit up straight. Bob helped him, pushing a cushion behind him to keep him upright.

Daniel shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

Don’t fall for a cooked-up document.

Bob’s story had thrown him for a minute, but it was hogwash.

The cops are up to the same tricks as that Susan woman and her lawyer. Just trying to get rid of you.

He’d almost fallen for it, but now he could see through the ploy.

They couldn’t fool him. He knew he’d found Hannah, dammit. He was about to bring her home to the farm so they could be a family again.

Don’t let on, though.

Best if he pretended to be convinced.

Stalling for time, he reached for the glass of water. Bob was still hovering, a concerned expression on his face, and leaned over to help. “Are you okay? Would you like me to call a doctor?”

Daniel put down the glass and stood up. “No, don’t bother. I’m fine now.” His head spun, but he fought to get his balance under control. He had to get the cop out of here. “All right,” he said, smoothing his hand over his forehead. “I understand. I must have made a mistake.” He started toward the hallway.

Bob followed him. “I wanted to let you know,” he said. “I guess it was a shock.”

Daniel straightened his shoulders. “I was just dizzy for a minute. I’ll be fine.” Get him out of here. “Thanks for coming to tell me. I’ll let you get back to your duties now.” How much more jabber was it going to take to get rid of him?

Bob moved toward the door. “Yeah. I have to get back out there.” He left, closing the door behind him, shutting out the cold wind gusting across the front porch.

As the latch clicked into place, Daniel turned to lean against the door, his knees unsteady and his mouth dry. His splayed hands slid down the door’s hard surface, his fingers lingering on rough spots and ridges they encountered on the painted wood.

Rhythmic ticks from the hall clock measured the passing minutes. In the kitchen, the fridge motor cycled on and off.

Tucker came up to him, head raised and ears alert, and pressed his head against Daniel’s knee. Stiffly, Daniel bent to rub the dog’s head, running his hand over the familiar bumps under wiry fur. Tucker’s wet nose nudged his palm.

When did you last feed him?

Daniel shook his head. He couldn’t focus on Tucker right now.

He pushed off from the door and stumbled back into the living room. Rubbing sweat from his forehead, he lowered himself onto the easy chair. The seat cushion sank under him and he leaned his head back, the rough upholstery pressing into his neck. He shook his head, doing his best to block Bob’s words from memory.

After a few moments he sat up again, and his eyes fell on the papers on the floor where Bob had left them. With a small shiver, he reached over to pick them up. Two sheets of white paper, smooth against his fingers. A logo at the top. Black print, a bit smudged at one edge.

The pages were stapled together, the second page facing up, the first page folded to the back. Daniel flipped the first page to the front. It was a copy of an email message. Addressed to [email protected].

Daniel’s eyes fell to the message.

—Hi, buddy. Here’s the comparison from the National DNA Database. Note: Maddy’s and Hannah’s samples DO NOT MATCH. —

Stiffening, Daniel’s sight dropped to the one-word signature.

Mac.

Below that name was an RCMP logo and a set of identifiers that he recognized. Name, address, and phone numbers.

That’s our Mac.

Daniel stared at the message again. He flipped to the second page, the report. It confirmed what Mac’s message said.

Bob’s words replayed in Daniel’s mind. “You’ve been wrong all along.”

His mouth filled with a bitter taste. He swallowed twice, trying to get rid of it. He threw aside the pages, rising to his feet and stumbling out to the hallway. On the way he bumped his knee against a sharp corner by the stairs but scarcely registered the pain.

His head filled with a wordless wail.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever known about the cops having Hannah’s DNA. They had come after the accident to collect things from the room that Kelly, Jacob, and Hannah had slept in. He hadn’t paid much attention.

His vision blurred again.

Mac’s name.

Mac’s message.

He’d never known Mac to lie.

With a chill flooding through him, Daniel fell back into the chair. Tucker was staring at his face again, making a soft whining sound.

Daniel’s throat clenched, and the muscles across his shoulders tensed. He felt hollow and cold.

The report was real.

He’d made a huge mistake.

****

Daniel stood in the kitchen, staring out into the backyard. He heard the girl’s sock feet thudding softly as she came downstairs. She murmured something to Tucker in the hallway, then came into the kitchen.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“A policeman.”

She went over to the sink and poured a glass of water. “Was he asking about me?”

Daniel turned to watch her. “Yeah, he was. He wanted to know if I’d seen you.”

“What did you say?”

“I said no.” He swallowed. “You didn’t want him to find you, right?”

The girl gave him a sideways glance, then slid into one of the chairs and smoothed her pad of paper on the table. “I guess you convinced him, since he went away.” She turned to a clean page and started drawing something.

The bitter taste rose in Daniel’s throat again. She was carrying on as if nothing had changed—and for her it hadn’t. But for him, everything was different.

Yesterday he’d taken her love of drawing as something she’d gotten from Kelly. Now he knew he’d been fooling himself. Yesterday he’d been imagining the moment when he got her home to Alberta, to the farm. Now that dream was shattered.

He closed his eyes. If she wasn’t Hannah, he didn’t want her here. He wished he’d never seen her, never let her stay.

He leaned over the sink, pouring himself another glass of water. He needed to stay calm, not give in to the rage bubbling up inside him.

It was the girl’s fault! For looking so much like Kelly.

“That’s what—” He bit off the sentence. He hadn’t meant to speak out loud.

Turning from the sink, he realized the girl was watching him with an odd expression.

“Sorry, just thinking.” He’d been about to say that’s what sucked me in.

But what now? He couldn’t just send her away.

Now that he’d hidden her for days and lied to the police, he’d be in for it if they found out. He didn’t know what the penalty would be for concealing a runaway, but it’d be something serious. A jail term of some kind, for sure. He’d been willing to take that risk when he thought she was Hannah. Getting Hannah home was worth any risk, because the payoff—keeping his promise to Patricia, having a family life again—was all he had left to look forward to.

But this girl wasn’t Hannah. He didn’t want to go to jail for her. She was here because of troubles with her mother, but those were none of his business.

The thought gave him pause.

The girl shouldn’t go back to Susan. That wouldn’t be right. Susan wasn’t her mom—that was what the other DNA test had said. So where could she even go?

Up to now he’d been working hard to persuade her that she belonged with him. She must be thinking they were heading out west tomorrow. Now they wouldn’t be doing that.

He had to tamp down his anger again. Be careful. He could hear Patricia’s voice. She could get you into big trouble.

He drew a deep breath. He had to give himself time to decide what to do. For now, he’d just try to act as if nothing had changed.

He went over to the fridge and opened it. With an effort, he smiled at the girl. “Are you ready for lunch?”