Never Knowing

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.”

“She’s safe — I tied her up so she can’t go anywhere.”

“What do you mean she’s—”

“It’ll be fine. You two will have fun with me, you’ll see.” He hung up.

I screamed at my windshield.

The cell was hot in my hands. My breath coming in quick, short gasps. This was bad, this was really bad. I had to call the police. They were professionals; they’d know what to do. But what if John had a police scanner? He’d disappear with Ally and we’d never get her back. I thought of the lock of hair in my pocket, the uneven edge like he’d hacked it with a knife, and a fresh wave of terror rushed through my body. I put the phone down.

Twenty minutes later I finally spotted the turnoff for Horne Lake, and as soon as I parked in the gravel clearing I located the culvert. Sure enough, there was a box in it. As I walked back to the truck I checked the cell, but there was no coverage. I was on my own.

My heart going nuts and my mouth dry, I wrapped the blindfold around my head and lay down on the front seat. The sun was beating through the windshield and I hadn’t had any water for hours. Sweat trickled down the side of my face. About ten minutes later I heard a vehicle coming down the road. My body tensed. When the vehicle pulled off the road into the clearing and alongside my truck, I started to shake.

A door opened, slammed, then heavy footsteps. My truck door creaked open and a hand patted my shin. I jerked back, knocking my head on the doorframe.

“Bet that hurt.” John sounded concerned. “You okay?”

“Can I take the blindfold off?”

“Not yet. Shimmy to the end of the bench seat and I’ll guide you out.”

When a large hand wrapped around my leg it was all I could do not to kick him. As I wriggled out, my knees bumped into something and I braced for a blow, but nothing happened. I was standing now and sensed his presence in front of me. I wondered where Ally was and tilted my chin up to peer under the fold of fabric I’d tied loosely around my eyes but couldn’t make anything out. His hand lightly gripping my elbow, he led me a couple of steps forward, then paused. His hand left my arm and I jumped as he slammed Gerry’s truck door behind me.

“Where’s Ally?” I said.

“Back at camp.”

“You left her alone? She’s six. You can’t just—”