people saw her
with your daughter as recently as a few months ago. We have Ms.
Angel here, who thinks that she can link more information between
your daughter and this other young woman and may be able to use
that to find them.” He waved his hand to Clear and she stepped
forward.
The woman took her hand and Clear
could feel her trembling. “Oh, anything I could do to help,” she
murmured, sounding faint of breath. She gazed deeply into Clear’s
eyes and the hope shining from them was the type of look one sees
in old Frescoes of people meeting saints. Clear tried not to wilt
before that gaze.
The woman pulled them into the home
and Clear’s first instinct was to pull back into the light. The
home was so cold!! Instead she pushed forward and followed the
woman through the foyer into a large living room. The woman offered
them seats on a couch and Clear sat rigidly. Glancing over at Grant
and Detective Bryce she realized she was the only one who felt that
it was cold. The cold she felt was not the actual temperature, but
an overall timbre of the home. Clear tried not to
shiver.
The woman sat opposite Clear and
tucked her hair behind her ear. “How can I help?” she
pleaded.
Biting her lip, Clear tried not to
look the woman in the eye. “Well, I am a behavioral analyst. We
look for patterns in victims…’
“ Victims?” The woman
looked to Detective Bryce. “But.. I thought you said she was listed
as a runaway?”
Clear raised her hand. “Your daughter
may have left voluntarily, but someone… influenced her decision. Am
I correct?”
The woman shook her head. “I.. I don’t
know. I was so surprised by it all…. To be honest, I never thought
she ran away, but.. well, the detective and everyone else said…”
she trailed off, wiping her eyes on her robe.
Clear touched her arm gently, offering
the only comfort she could at this point. “Well, the other missing
girl is the same way. There was no deviant behavior prior to
indicate that she would run away. See, already one thing these two
girls had in common.” Clear looked over to the fireplace and saw
photos of Bella… how did she know it was Bella? It felt right.
“Your daughter was a dancer. This other girl was as well. We think
that may be how they met.” Clear stood and walked over to the
picture. She touched the frame and was sucked into a memory of the
night the photo had been taken.
It was a big recital and Donna (Why
Donna, not Bella? Clear wondered) had gotten the lead part. She was
flushed with excitement and her performance was extraordinary. Her
father brought her roses on stage during her final curtain and she
turned, smiling for the photo.
Briefly touching the other photos,
Clear got similar glorious and happy experiences. She turned and
looking at Grant, realized that she hadn’t been standing there too
long… at least not long enough to draw suspicion or
concern.
“ I wanted to see if there
were any other points at which these girls lives might have been…
similar.” Clear smiled kindly. “Are you and Belladonna’s father
still together?”
The woman looked at her and her gaze
became flinty. “Why?”
“ The other young woman’s
father and mother were separated. It may be possible that the
person who… was involved in their disappearance was feeding on that
vacancy in their lives,” Clear tried to explain.
Grant looked at her in
surprise.
“ No, we… we only recently
separated… since Donna’s disappearance.”
“ Your daughter went by
Donna?” Clear asked, filing the oddity away for later.
“ Yes,” the woman looked at
her quizzically.
Clear smiled and asked if they could
see Donna’s room.
Chapter Eight
The room was extraordinarily neat,
especially for a teenager. Grant looked around at all the posters
in frames, the awards in frames, the shadow boxes for the figurines
and the books shelves with nothing but books neatly stacked in
alphabetical order.
“ Excuse me, but is this
how your daughter left
with your daughter as recently as a few months ago. We have Ms.
Angel here, who thinks that she can link more information between
your daughter and this other young woman and may be able to use
that to find them.” He waved his hand to Clear and she stepped
forward.
The woman took her hand and Clear
could feel her trembling. “Oh, anything I could do to help,” she
murmured, sounding faint of breath. She gazed deeply into Clear’s
eyes and the hope shining from them was the type of look one sees
in old Frescoes of people meeting saints. Clear tried not to wilt
before that gaze.
The woman pulled them into the home
and Clear’s first instinct was to pull back into the light. The
home was so cold!! Instead she pushed forward and followed the
woman through the foyer into a large living room. The woman offered
them seats on a couch and Clear sat rigidly. Glancing over at Grant
and Detective Bryce she realized she was the only one who felt that
it was cold. The cold she felt was not the actual temperature, but
an overall timbre of the home. Clear tried not to
shiver.
The woman sat opposite Clear and
tucked her hair behind her ear. “How can I help?” she
pleaded.
Biting her lip, Clear tried not to
look the woman in the eye. “Well, I am a behavioral analyst. We
look for patterns in victims…’
“ Victims?” The woman
looked to Detective Bryce. “But.. I thought you said she was listed
as a runaway?”
Clear raised her hand. “Your daughter
may have left voluntarily, but someone… influenced her decision. Am
I correct?”
The woman shook her head. “I.. I don’t
know. I was so surprised by it all…. To be honest, I never thought
she ran away, but.. well, the detective and everyone else said…”
she trailed off, wiping her eyes on her robe.
Clear touched her arm gently, offering
the only comfort she could at this point. “Well, the other missing
girl is the same way. There was no deviant behavior prior to
indicate that she would run away. See, already one thing these two
girls had in common.” Clear looked over to the fireplace and saw
photos of Bella… how did she know it was Bella? It felt right.
“Your daughter was a dancer. This other girl was as well. We think
that may be how they met.” Clear stood and walked over to the
picture. She touched the frame and was sucked into a memory of the
night the photo had been taken.
It was a big recital and Donna (Why
Donna, not Bella? Clear wondered) had gotten the lead part. She was
flushed with excitement and her performance was extraordinary. Her
father brought her roses on stage during her final curtain and she
turned, smiling for the photo.
Briefly touching the other photos,
Clear got similar glorious and happy experiences. She turned and
looking at Grant, realized that she hadn’t been standing there too
long… at least not long enough to draw suspicion or
concern.
“ I wanted to see if there
were any other points at which these girls lives might have been…
similar.” Clear smiled kindly. “Are you and Belladonna’s father
still together?”
The woman looked at her and her gaze
became flinty. “Why?”
“ The other young woman’s
father and mother were separated. It may be possible that the
person who… was involved in their disappearance was feeding on that
vacancy in their lives,” Clear tried to explain.
Grant looked at her in
surprise.
“ No, we… we only recently
separated… since Donna’s disappearance.”
“ Your daughter went by
Donna?” Clear asked, filing the oddity away for later.
“ Yes,” the woman looked at
her quizzically.
Clear smiled and asked if they could
see Donna’s room.
Chapter Eight
The room was extraordinarily neat,
especially for a teenager. Grant looked around at all the posters
in frames, the awards in frames, the shadow boxes for the figurines
and the books shelves with nothing but books neatly stacked in
alphabetical order.
“ Excuse me, but is this
how your daughter left
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