Never Knowing

Moose barking.

As I turned the key I realized the door wasn’t locked. Sandy would never leave the door unlocked. I hesitated — could John be inside? Adrenaline rushed through my body. My daughter was in there.

I pushed open the door.

The house was quiet.

“Sandy? Ally? Hello?”

I raced upstairs and checked Ally’s room. She wasn’t there. One of her shoes was kicked off into the middle of the room. She was wearing them this morning.

I ran down the hall to my room. Empty. Were they in the backyard? I sprinted downstairs and opened the sliding glass door. As soon as I stepped out I saw Sandy hog-tied on the ground by my feet.

For a minute my mind couldn’t compute the image, then it hit. I dropped to my knees beside her.

“Sandy!” I wanted to shake her and scream, Where’s Ally? But her face was turned to the side and a rivulet of blood trickled from her nose. The back of her head was matted with blood. I spotted an envelope lying near her shoulder, my name scrawled on it in bold letters. There was a cell and a folded piece of paper inside. I unfolded the note. The writing was messy, but the words leaped out: If you ever want to see Ally again don’t tell anyone.… Before I could read the rest something fell out of the envelope. I picked it up. It was a lock of Ally’s hair, one soft, dark ringlet. The air left my throat in a long moan.

A man shouted from inside the house, “Everything okay? The door was wide open!”

The patrolman.

I opened my mouth to scream that Ally was missing. Stop, think. What if John killed her? If I told the police she was gone they’d never let me out of the house.

I heard myself yell, “Sandy’s hurt!”

His feet were heavy. “Officer down. Officer down!” He came through the sliding glass door with a radio to his mouth. I shoved the cell and note into my pocket and stood up on shaky legs.

“She’s breathing, but her head’s bleeding, and—”

He pushed me out of the way, checked Sandy’s pulse. I stared at his back. Should I tell him about the note?

If you ever want to see Ally again …

I backed away unsteadily. In the living room I stopped and read the rest of the note. The words danced before my eyes.

Drive north. Come alone. I’ll call with directions. If anyone follows she’s dead.

Sirens wailed in the distance. Should I wait? A voice in my head screamed, Leave, get Ally, there’s no time! I sprinted out the front, grabbed my keys out of the door, jumped into the Cherokee, and gunned the engine. I reversed down the driveway, narrowly missing the side of the parked patrol car. At the end of the driveway, I slammed the Cherokee into drive and stomped my foot down hard on the gas.

As I barreled down the road, my mind raced to come up with a plan, but all I could think about was Ally. I had to get to her — fast. Right now the cops’ priority was Sandy, but any minute they were going to notice we were gone. I had to ditch the Cherokee. Could I make it to Lauren’s? No, too far. A neighbor! Gerry, the old man a few houses down, had a truck he never used and a long driveway. I pulled in, parked in a small clearing blocked from the house by trees, then ran up to his door.

He didn’t answer my frantic knock. I hammered at his door again. I was about to leave when the door opened. Gerry’s white hair was sticking straight up and he was wearing a robe.

“Sara, you have blood all over you!”

“Gerry — I need your truck. I was walking and Moose got hit by a car. I don’t have time to run back to my house.”

“How awful. Of course.” He shuffled toward the kitchen with me hot on his heels, then rummaged through a basket on the counter as I fought the urge to throw him out of the way.

When he held the keys aloft I practically snatched them out of his hand, then shouted, “Thanks!” over my shoulder as I raced out the door to his old red Chevy.

John didn’t say which highway to take out of Nanaimo, so I got on the parkway bypassing the city and headed north. Because the highway is inland there’s just forest on either side of the road and long stretches between each exit. The cell coverage also gets spotty and I worried about missing John’s call. The cell I’d found near Sandy was lying in my lap and I touched it several times.

Come on, you asshole. Tell me where my daughter is.

My head spun with terrifying images of where Ally could be and what John could be doing to her. Should I call the police? Was I costing them precious time? One minute it seemed like the right thing to do, the next minute I panicked, thinking about John finding out and killing Ally.

Thirty minutes down the highway, my body was still vibrating with adrenaline and my thoughts were all over the place. I was looking at the road but not seeing anything. I ran a red light. Tires screeched as cars swerved to avoid me. Another jolt of fear ricocheted through my body. I realized I was crying when a drop landed on my arm. Billy’s voice cut through the noise in my head: Whenever you feel yourself panicking, just breathe, regroup, and focus on your strategy.

I sucked in a deep breath through my nose and forced it out my mouth, repeating the process until I was finally able to grab on to a thought. What was the next step? John was going to call. Then what? He was going to tell me where to meet him. What was I going to do then? All I had to do was play along, tell him whatever he wanted to hear, and wait for a chance to — The cell phone rang.

I scrabbled for the phone and yelled, “Where is she?”

“Are you driving?”

“Is Ally okay?”

“Did anyone follow you?”

“If you’ve hurt her, I’ll—”

“I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“You hurt that police officer—”

“She was going to shoot me. And you lied again — Ally wasn’t at school.”

“Because I was worried you would do something crazy, and I was right. You can’t just take my child and threaten to—” My voice broke.

“It was the only way you’d come. I know you’ve been talking to the police. I’ll explain everything later.”

“Please don’t hurt Ally. I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt her. I’m begging you.”

“I’m not going to hurt her — she’s my granddaughter. I’m not a monster. But if you tell the cops or lead them to me, you’ll never see us again.”

He was a monster. One of the worst this world had ever seen.

“I won’t—”

“Shut up and listen.”

I bit my tongue. He had Ally.

“Turn left at Horne Lake Road, then park by the old concrete divider at the first clearing. In the culvert there’s a box with a blindfold. Put it on and lie down in the front seat of your Jeep.”

He knew I had a Jeep Cherokee. He must have been following me.

“I took a neighbor’s truck.”

“You’ve got your old man’s smarts.” He laughed, then said, “See you soon.” I was just about to hang up when he said, “Knock, knock.”

I clenched my jaw.

“Who’s there?”

“Sara reason you’re not laughing?”

My voice cracked as I said, “I’m too scared about Ally.”