Imogene and Dana. He gave
the children of the neighborhood generous treats at Halloween, and
one October he said his house was haunted and dared the kids to
come inside. Dana took the dare first. The place did not scare her at
all, but something in that house must have frightened some little
girl, because right after Halloween there was a furor up and down
the street and a policeman came to the house and stood in the kitchen talking to Imogene. He asked Dana questions, and she
thought he had a mean voice so she was not very cooperative. Then
Imogene stepped in, angry with her, saying she was as stubborn as
your mother. Eventually Imogene took her to a doctor, and Dana
was made to undress and put on a voluminous cotton gown. She lay
on a table and the doctor told her to stop shaking and open her
knees, but she couldn’t or just as likely wouldn’t, so the nurse and
Imogene held them so far apart Dana thought she would split in
two.
No one would force Bailey to do anything.
Bailey stood in the tub, and Dana asked her to turn around. The
only marks on her body were a scab on the knee and another on her
elbow. Ordinary kid scrapes. No rope burns or bruises.
Dana’s hands slipped down to Bailey’s thighs and gently, barely,
parted her legs. As she soaped her, she keyed her senses for a flinch
or shudder; just the ripple of a muscle beneath her hands might indicate a tender spot. But Bailey let herself be washed as she had
done all her life, without shame or apprehension, with heartbreaking trust and perfect innocence.
“Turn around, sweetheart.”
Dana ran her soapy hands down Bailey’s back, along the straight
knobbed spine;, feeling each bone as if she suspected the crime
against her daughter might even be this, the theft of a vertebrae. She
spread Bailey’s buttocks so she could see the dark pink circle of her
anus, and again her child submitted without shying. No bruises, no
tears. Dana drew her down onto her lap in the water, holding her
tight against her breasts, trembling with relief as the water sloshed
about them.
For several days after Bailey’s return Dana kept her indoors.
David spoke to the press gathered around the front steps, holding his daughter in his arms. Reporters asked him how Mrs. Cabot was
holding up and wasn’t she thrilled to have Bailey back.
“Say I’m an emotional wreck,” Dana told David, laughing as she
prodded him toward the front door. “Tell them I’m dead-drunk
with joy.”
She watched the scene from a window.
A female reporter put a microphone in front of Bailey and asked,
“How’s it feel to be back with your mommy and daddy, Bailey?”
Bailey hid her head against David’s shoulder.
David did not say that though Bailey was healthy, eating and
sleeping well, watching her old favorite videos and hanging her
arms around Moby’s neck whenever the dog would let her, she had
not spoken a word since Dana found her on the steps.
The blonde asked David, “Is she all right? Have you had her examined by doctors?”
“She’s seen the family doctor and she’s fine. We’re all happy and
relieved to have our girl back with us.”
Another reporter shoved a microphone in David’s face and
asked, “Do you think Bailey’s kidnapping’s connected to the Frank
Filmore case?”
“I really couldn’t say.” David looked behind him at Lieutenant
Gary. “You’ll have to talk to the police about that.”
Gary stepped forward. “It does seem pretty clear that the crime
was part of a pattern of harassment designed to intimidate Frank
Filmore’s defense team. The fact that Bailey appears to be unharmed supports our theory.”
“Do you have any leads?” the blonde asked.
“I can guarantee it’s only a matter of time until we get whoever’s
responsible.”
A matter of time. It could take the rest of Dana’s life and make
little difference to her. Bailey was home, Bailey was safe, and noth ing else mattered. She wondered why
the children of the neighborhood generous treats at Halloween, and
one October he said his house was haunted and dared the kids to
come inside. Dana took the dare first. The place did not scare her at
all, but something in that house must have frightened some little
girl, because right after Halloween there was a furor up and down
the street and a policeman came to the house and stood in the kitchen talking to Imogene. He asked Dana questions, and she
thought he had a mean voice so she was not very cooperative. Then
Imogene stepped in, angry with her, saying she was as stubborn as
your mother. Eventually Imogene took her to a doctor, and Dana
was made to undress and put on a voluminous cotton gown. She lay
on a table and the doctor told her to stop shaking and open her
knees, but she couldn’t or just as likely wouldn’t, so the nurse and
Imogene held them so far apart Dana thought she would split in
two.
No one would force Bailey to do anything.
Bailey stood in the tub, and Dana asked her to turn around. The
only marks on her body were a scab on the knee and another on her
elbow. Ordinary kid scrapes. No rope burns or bruises.
Dana’s hands slipped down to Bailey’s thighs and gently, barely,
parted her legs. As she soaped her, she keyed her senses for a flinch
or shudder; just the ripple of a muscle beneath her hands might indicate a tender spot. But Bailey let herself be washed as she had
done all her life, without shame or apprehension, with heartbreaking trust and perfect innocence.
“Turn around, sweetheart.”
Dana ran her soapy hands down Bailey’s back, along the straight
knobbed spine;, feeling each bone as if she suspected the crime
against her daughter might even be this, the theft of a vertebrae. She
spread Bailey’s buttocks so she could see the dark pink circle of her
anus, and again her child submitted without shying. No bruises, no
tears. Dana drew her down onto her lap in the water, holding her
tight against her breasts, trembling with relief as the water sloshed
about them.
For several days after Bailey’s return Dana kept her indoors.
David spoke to the press gathered around the front steps, holding his daughter in his arms. Reporters asked him how Mrs. Cabot was
holding up and wasn’t she thrilled to have Bailey back.
“Say I’m an emotional wreck,” Dana told David, laughing as she
prodded him toward the front door. “Tell them I’m dead-drunk
with joy.”
She watched the scene from a window.
A female reporter put a microphone in front of Bailey and asked,
“How’s it feel to be back with your mommy and daddy, Bailey?”
Bailey hid her head against David’s shoulder.
David did not say that though Bailey was healthy, eating and
sleeping well, watching her old favorite videos and hanging her
arms around Moby’s neck whenever the dog would let her, she had
not spoken a word since Dana found her on the steps.
The blonde asked David, “Is she all right? Have you had her examined by doctors?”
“She’s seen the family doctor and she’s fine. We’re all happy and
relieved to have our girl back with us.”
Another reporter shoved a microphone in David’s face and
asked, “Do you think Bailey’s kidnapping’s connected to the Frank
Filmore case?”
“I really couldn’t say.” David looked behind him at Lieutenant
Gary. “You’ll have to talk to the police about that.”
Gary stepped forward. “It does seem pretty clear that the crime
was part of a pattern of harassment designed to intimidate Frank
Filmore’s defense team. The fact that Bailey appears to be unharmed supports our theory.”
“Do you have any leads?” the blonde asked.
“I can guarantee it’s only a matter of time until we get whoever’s
responsible.”
A matter of time. It could take the rest of Dana’s life and make
little difference to her. Bailey was home, Bailey was safe, and noth ing else mattered. She wondered why
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