Jackal, page 15
“Did the dog you saw look like that?”
“I was a kid. I don’t know what I saw.”
“Kylie—”
“Shh. Shh.” She hushes me as she pulls out her phone again. She stares at the text exchange there. “You ever meet someone and just know? Like, you know, ‘This man is gonna waste my money and break my heart’? But more than that…” She searches for the thought. I know it all too well.
I finish her sentence, “You see how things are gonna end. Not just a feeling but something crystal clear. Like: Three years from now this man will wake up, realize he doesn’t love me, but draw it out until Valentine’s Day and break up with me before we head to the restaurant. I will eat dinner alone.” I glance back and realize that I’ve managed to grab Kylie’s full attention. Proud to have earned it, I hold her gaze.
“Shit.”
“I have an overactive imagination.”
“That’s not imagination. That’s a gift.” Kylie taps on her phone again, multitasking like a true millennial. “Some part of you knows how things are gonna end long before they do.” She puts her phone away. “So, if you have to be the one to end ’em, you know how.”
TEN
What the mothers told me and what Kylie said means this has been happening for over thirty years. Ripping families apart. The dates needle at me. The mothers who were there today, their girls went missing on the first day of summer. Today. Caroline doesn’t fit. If so, then the person who took her might want to group her in with all these other girls. Or she is just like all these other girls and they’ve changed things up. Or nobody took her and she’s out there alone and scared.
I know the rhyme of the man and his shadow, heard it all my life. It’s a story, but there are clues in it. The man is obviously a man. The shadow moves in the dark. It can come and go with no one noticing. For someone to keep this up for over thirty years they’d have to be in amazing shape. Or have help. As I arrive at the site, it occurs to me this might not be one person, but two.
Coming back to the field, I find all the decorations from the wedding are gone. The coffee station is now the most established location. The police have brought out power strips. There’s a water station. The fire department is still present, but their truck is gone. A few firefighters mill about in their designated corner. Something seems different about them today.
In no time, I spot Mel. She’s next to Garrett. Nick is with the other officers in heavy discussion. Mrs. Parker has resumed her usual task of cleaning. Then there’s Mr. Parker. He’s surrounded by officers. Looking at him now, I notice he looks strong for his age. Lived here all his life, an adept huntsman. But Garrett said Mel’s parents love Caroline. Jacob Parker might not be the man his grin makes him out to be. Then again, looking at how he smiles with both rows of teeth, maybe he’s exactly what he presents himself to be. I need to get Mel alone.
Garrett spots me. “Liz!”
In the open field, there is nowhere to hide. I walk over to him and Mel. The moment I get close, Mel pulls me in for a hug.
“Stay with me,” she whispers.
Nick approaches us. “I got a good feeling about today.” His forced jollity is unnerving. Nothing about today feels hopeful. Everyone at the site is tense.
“You’ve said that every day,” Mel grumbles with a sibling’s familiarity.
Nick shrugs. “Today is gonna be it. Trust me,” he says with a smile.
I search his face for a clue or a tell. He nods vigorously to himself, a manifestation of his anxiety. We’re on day three. Our chances of finding Caroline alive have dropped significantly. I turn back to Melissa. She won’t look at me because she’s crying. I can tell. I give her arm a slight tug, and she rests her head against me. We watch the officers get to work.
A new car pulls up to the site. It’s a regular SUV. Finally, another friend has come to help. I see two women get out and realize they’re not Melissa’s friends. One has dark hair and a stern face. The other is a short redhead. They aren’t in uniform, but they are dressed in a way that feels “on purpose.” Their pants look sturdy and their hair is tucked away under hats. The way they move tells me they’re here for a job. More officers rotate in the search. The firefighters greet the women. That gets my attention. The firefighters are engaging with them, but not the officers.
Garrett rushes over. “Search and Rescue is here.”
“Thank God.” Mel sighs.
We all look back at the two women. One leads a leashed sandy pit bull. She makes her way toward the officers. The woman with red hair and her black German shepherd approach us. The similarity between this dog and the one in my dreams spooks me. I wonder if this could be similar to the dog that Kylie and Farrah saw.
“I’m Jessie, that’s my partner, Kim, and her dog, Sadie.”
Melissa smiles but gives the dog a wide berth. “Thank you so much for coming.”
“Of course. We’re happy to help.” Jessie exudes much more comfort and confidence than the officers do. She fusses with her bangs, tucking them into her cap. Her hair is already secure. It’s a tic. Something’s frustrating her. “Sorry for the delay in getting out here. The department took their time giving us approval.”
“We know. They’ve been…difficult,” Melissa says. Jessie glances at me. I keep my mouth shut and my eyes on the dog.
“And who is this?” Melissa asks in a small voice, seemingly equally disconcerted by the large canine.
“Oh, this is Max.” The big black German shepherd wags his tail at his name. Seeing this dog with its master drives home the vision Kylie told me she saw. A man and his shadow. There are plenty of intense partnerships, not just man and dog; there’s boss and worker, mother and daughter, father and son.
An officer approaches us in a huff. “What are you waiting for?” he shouts at Jessie. Jessie keeps her cool.
“Excuse me?” she replies.
“You got the German shepherd. We want that dog, not the pit bull. We want to find the kid, not maul her.”
Jessie’s face hardens. “We train these dogs. They don’t bite their targets, they signal. And that pit bull, Sadie, will find the girl alive.” She refers to the dark dog at her side. “Hopefully, we won’t need my dog today. We’re out ’cause it’s too hot to keep him in the car.”
“We need all the dogs we can get,” the officer says with a condescending laugh.
Jessie glances from us to him. “Max here is a cadaver dog. This is still a rescue, right?”
The officer hesitates, realizing his mistake. “Yeah—yes. It is.” He heads back out.
“Come on, boy, let’s get some water.” Jessie and Max head toward the water station.
It looks like we’ll be going in soon. I break away from Mel to grab some caffeine. At the coffeemaker, I find Nick. He tips the large thermos forward to get the last of it.
He offers me the dark sludge in his cup. “It’s mostly grounds. Do you want it?”
“No. Thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” He adds creamer and two packs of sugar and sips his grounds to get the caffeine. His energy from before has waned. He’s running out of steam. I’m reminded of Doug. Both men are desperately working their way up the ranks. Stuck.
“How deep you going in the woods?” I ask. Keisha’s and Kayla’s marks are at the far edge of the map.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean? Are y’all going ten, twenty, thirty miles out?”
“Caroline isn’t crossing county lines.” He drinks his coffee deeply.
“I forgot lost children could intuit man-made borders.”
“What I mean is, if she’s out there, she’s not that far out.” I notice he uses “if.” Nick knows the search has changed.
“Do you think the dogs will help?”
“Oh yeah.” Nick nods vigorously. “You ever been hunting with a dog? They know what’s out there long before we do. We had Ace, he was a black Lab. That dog helped me and my dad catch five bucks one year. He was a good dog.”
That stops me. “When did you have a dog?”
“It was before…” Nick shifts his weight around a bit, then he continues. “He, um, one Christmas, our cousins were visiting. They brought their three-year-old with them. The kid goes tottering right up to Ace like ‘doggy, doggy,’ you know how kids are.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, Ace got spooked and lunged at the kid. Bit him right on the cheek. Nothing too deep, but it was bloody as hell.”
“Oh my God.”
“Mom patched the kid up. Dad took Ace out back and shot him.”
“Wait, he killed the dog?” I need him to repeat that.
“It attacked a kid,” Nick replies.
“Most dogs freak out around kids. They don’t know what to do with them. It made a mistake.”
Nick turns to me. He looks at me like I’m a freak and talks to me like I’m an idiot. “You can’t keep an animal around that you can’t trust. Who’s to say it won’t turn on you?” He throws his cup away and heads back out to the field.
Through the heat, I’m chilled to the bone. What’s underneath the story of Ace digs at me. Mr. Parker disposed of his trusted hunting buddy after years of loyalty because of his black-and-white sense of right and wrong. I look out at the field to see him. Mr. Parker is all smiles and cheer. I can’t stop the story in my head. Mulling it over makes me sick. What else has Mr. Parker sacrificed to his morality?
ELEVEN
“Ready?” Mel extends her hand to me. I never realized how much I associated Mel with the woods. The first time I had venison was at her house. Mrs. Parker made a stew. I remember the bits of deer tasting like grass more than any kind of meat I’d eaten before. Looking at Mel’s hand now, there’s dirt under her manicure. Raw spots on her palms. She’s been out here facing the woods for three days. I wish I had good news to bring her. Instead, I have dead girls, a handful of coincidences, and a feeling that the only way to find Caroline is to figure out what happened to the others. I take Mel’s hand. She grips mine back so hard it hurts.
Radio chatter falls to a hush. I watch the dogs dart into the trees, pulled ahead by instinct. This search has always been serious, but this feels distinctly morbid. Everyone around us adjusts. There aren’t just humans looking in the trees for Caroline anymore. We all know that searches with dogs can progress for days, but something about this first sweep feels final. Officers head in after the dogs with solemn purpose.
Mel pulls me ahead.
Fifteen years ago she led me out of the woods. I was shell-shocked and she helped me craft a story to tell my mother. One look and Mel knew the piece of flesh that had been ripped out of my arm was bad. Neither of us knew any kind of serious first aid, but she knew she had to keep me talking. We agreed to tell our parents that I tripped and landed on some wood. Then she told me the rhyme of the man and his shadow. Thinking back, I remember that was the first time I heard the story. It was started by Mel and finished by Kylie. But Mel’s story was almost sweet in its telling. That there was a curious creature riddled with fear. Controlled by it. Kylie told me the opposite.
Mel and I hear bits of conversation from the others around us. Including her father’s loud, booming laugh. What once annoyed me now chills me to the bone. I sent Doug the rest of the names from the mothers I met this morning. With spotty service, I’ll never get his reply. I stick close to Mel.
All the while, the trees crowd in around us. There are trails, but soon even those disappear. In the daylight, everything blends into the dense shadowed greenery, making even the sun seem farther away. Mel maintains a good pace, trying to get us away from the bulk of the search. She has always been my safety from the trees. Gradually, the voices muffle. And the only cries for “Caroline” are mine and Mel’s.
“Mel?” I ask. “How far out has the search gone?”
“Not far enough. Have you seen anyone?”
“No.” I check Doug’s map. “You’re taking us pretty far out.”
“Good.” She checks her radio. A quick squawk of chatter confirms that we are still in range. “I bet you the dogs have already led them farther than they’ve been in days.”
“How far is that?” I double-check my phone battery. It’s charged.
“They are sticking to Nick’s land,” she says. “It’s like they’re looking for something on the land and not where Caroline could have gone. Liz, when they took you to the station, did they ask you anything about me and my family?”
“No. Have they questioned you?”
“Yes.” A shiver passes through Mel. “They were pissed we let the neighbors in yesterday. We made sure no one went into Caroline’s room. They’ve been asking about Garrett’s and my relationship, my parents’ opinions about our wedding.”
“What have you told them?”
“The truth. We’re happy.” Mel rubs the back of her hand over her forehead, wiping away sweat. I pause.
“You okay, Mel?”
She rests her hands on her knees for a moment. “Fine. Which way are we going?” she asks.
I check the map. “North, just north.” I try to sound as sure as I can.
Mel runs her hands over the back of her neck. “Okay.” We head deeper into the trees.
The rustle of squirrels and other creatures sends jolts down my spine. I swipe the air in front of me every few minutes to clear a low-hanging web or bits of foliage. I have to remind myself that all these creatures are running from me. Not toward me. I’m clumsy in the woods, but Mel moves with confidence and comfort.
“Do you remember Bonfire Night?” I ask.
“How could I forget?” Mel huffs as the terrain gets steep. It’s vertical enough for us to need to climb at parts. If Caroline is all the way out here, someone had to have taken her.
“Why did you make me go with you?”
“I don’t remember it like that.” Mel laughs for the first time in days.
“I remember telling you I refused to go to bonfires because they were in the woods and I would be arrested on principle.”
“I remember telling you that Chris Hartmann would be there and you turned the deepest shade of red I’d ever seen.”
I blush at the memory.
“I never knew Black people could blush till I saw you do that.” Mel laughs. I join in out of habit, but soon my smile fades. It’s not funny anymore.
“Yeah…” My mind races back to the conversation and I remember, it wasn’t funny then either. I told her so, and she gave me a flustered apology, brushing off her ignorance. She didn’t deny my feelings or tell me I was being too sensitive. To me, it was a quiet but definitive moment of our friendship, because she treated me like a person. “Keisha went missing from that party.”
Mel doesn’t respond, she keeps navigating forward. “Caroline!”
“Keisha’s not the only girl who’s gone missing and been found in these woods.”
“According to Nick, a lot of people get lost out here. It’s too easy to get turned around.” So Nick knows about people going missing out here. He’d be a good partner, if you needed one. Mel’s pace is getting hard to keep up with.
“There are other girls—Black girls—who go missing this time of year and—”
“It’s the end of the school year. Kids are outside more, no matter their color—anyone can get lost.”
I carefully lay it out for Mel. “One girl, every summer. Some were found a week later with their chests ripped open—”
“Stop it!” Mel’s intensity alarms me. “Caroline isn’t dead. She’s lost.”
“I’ve just been looking into—”
“I—Liz, I asked you what you thought about the search. I didn’t ask you to go on a wild goose chase.”
“I’m not.”
“I don’t need conspiracy theories.”
“I know.” Looking out at the land we’re going toward, something hits me. “Do kids still party out there? In that field from Bonfire Night?”
“Oh, no. Dad fenced it off.” Mel rests against the side of a tree. She looks up, seeming to map something using the sun in the sky. When was Mel so good at navigating the woods?
“Why would your dad do that?” I ask.
“It’s steep here, careful—”
“Your father, Mel.” I keep her on task. “Why would he fence off that field?”
“He bought that land years ago, around when Caroline was born.” My heart stops. The Parker land isn’t just Nick’s. Could that be a trigger? His daughter having a Black child? I’ll have to wait for Doug to map the others, but if they are all out here, on land he bought, Mr. Parker could hide girls for years.
“Who did he buy the land from?” I ask.
“The state, I think.” Mel shrugs. “Whoever had it, lost it.”
I navigate down a steep bit of terrain. “What have they asked you about your dad?”
“The strangest things.” Mel grabs saplings to steady her descent. “If he ever gave Caroline special attention. If he ever insisted on alone time with her. Messed-up things like that.”
“Did he?”
“I don’t—maybe? He loves her.”
“Yeah, but, anything seem off about it? In your gut?”
Mel turns to look at me. “You’re starting to sound like those detectives. What are you trying to say?”
Here we go. “Other girls have gone missing in these woods.”
“That’s not—I don’t doubt it, it’s rough out here.” Mel stops walking ahead. “I mean…Liz, there has to be a reasonable explanation—”
“And I’m trying to tell you!” The jump in my voice startles us both. “One girl—one Black girl a summer. Starting the year we were born.” Alice. 1985.
Mel is so still that I can see the effort of her swallow. She tries to put together a few words and fails.
“I wouldn’t be telling you this if I didn’t think this might get Caroline back.” Mel and her family have had their disagreements in the past, but they are still close. Her insistence on letting the neighbors in, her delay in making the flyers. She could be protecting him.
