8th Day Read online

  "The worst part," Connie said, "was losing Maddie. Daniel's parents petitioned the court for legal custody and were granted it. What could I do? Even if I got out in twenty-five years, my daughter would be almost thirty years old. It almost killed me to admit it, but I knew it was better all around if she just thought I was dead. Better that, than thinking her mother was a murderer and having to visit me in prison." Finally, Connie allowed herself to cry. Her fists were bunched at her cheeks as if to will the tears back where they came from, but the tears won out. I got up and brought her a box of Kleenex.

  "So your daughter thinks you're dead?" I asked.

  She made a sound that might have been a laugh, except I knew better. "They just told her that her mommy went away." She blew her nose and looked up, her dark eyes glistening with emotion. "Pretty soon, she quit asking, I guess."

  "And then you were released early."

  "A couple of things happened. In prison, I had a lot of time to read and I educated myself about the law. The court-appointed attorney they'd given me had screwed me over royally. I wrote letters to everyone I could think of, and finally someone responded. The next thing I know, I've got a real attorney working for me, pro bono. He did what the investigating officers and the first attorney should have done. The skid marks the officers had taken pictures of clearly showed that the convertible was on my side of the road. Then he tracked down people who'd been at the party and got their statements regarding the hash brownies. They admitted that I'd eaten one right before I left and that no one had told me what was in them. It turns out, it takes quite a while for drugs ingested orally to get into your system. After timing the drive from the house I'd left to the scene of the accident, they determined that the accident had probably occurred before the hash had even taken effect. Then they retraced the route I'd taken after the crash and determined that, had the cop not stopped me, I'd have reached the first pay phone along the way in less than a mile. I got a new trial with a new judge, who reduced the charge to vehicular manslaughter and reduced the sentence to time served. Just like that, I was free to go.

  "It was like being given a second life. There are so many things I want to do — go back to school, get a job where I can work outside every day, breathing in the sunshine and fresh air. But mostly, more than anything else in the world, I want to get to know my daughter."

  I sat back, regarding Connie with new respect. She'd survived an injustice. And now she wanted to take back what was hers. But things didn't always work out that neatly.

  "How do your husband and his parents feel about that?"

  "It's funny," she said. "I was so afraid that they'd resent my return, I put off calling until I could get myself squared away. I wanted to get a job and a place to live first. Daniel got remarried a few years ago, and, according to one of the few friends who kept in touch with me, he and his wife and Maddie were living with his parents in Portland. My friend thought the new wife wasn't too excited about motherhood and that she and Daniel were gone most of the time, which gave me some hope. If they didn't want her, maybe I could get her back. But, as much as I wanted her, I didn't want to do anything that would screw up Maddie's life. If she was settled and happy, I promised myself I wouldn't mess that up.

  "But getting a job isn't easy when you're an ex-con. The best I've been able to do is hire myself out as a gardener. I'm renting a studio apartment I can barely afford. I realized that if I waited until I was financially stable, Maddie might be all grown up. When I finally got up the nerve to call, Daniel told me what was going on."

  "Which was what?" I prompted, downing the remains of my coffee.

  "He told me that Maddie had started acting out a couple of years ago. She was stealing stuff she didn't need from stores, beating kids up at school, that kind of stuff. Her grades, which had always been top notch, went in the tank. She started talking back to her grandparents, actually defying them, throwing stuff, causing scenes in public. He thought maybe she'd settle down once he married Suzette, but things just got worse. A couple of months ago, she actually threw an ashtray at Suzette, cutting her above the eye so bad she needed stitches. That was the final straw. They decided to send her to a reform school."

  I got up to refill our mugs as she continued.

  "I guess Daniel did some research and decided that Camp Turnaround was the best of the lot. Not only was it the cheapest of those he found acceptable, but he liked the idea of a working ranch. Plus, it's fairly close by. Some of these places are out in Utah and Colorado. This one's only a few hours away from where they live. Not that they're allowed to visit."

  "What?" I asked, handing her a steaming mug. "What kind of school doesn't let the parents visit?"

  "I guess the kind you pay for six months in advance," Connie said, finally cracking a genuine smile. "Actually, it made sense when Daniel explained it. The kids all want to leave at first. They're supposed to hate it. But they have to earn the right for visitations. In fact, everything they do either earns them points or takes them away. Reward and punishment. The hope is that pretty soon the kids will actually want to see the parents that they couldn't stand before."

  "Okay," I said. "So Daniel sent Madeline to this Camp Turnaround. What makes you think she's in trouble?"

  "After Daniel told me about the camp, I asked if I could come see him, at least see some pictures of Madeline. He was against the idea at first, but after a while, he gave in. He said it couldn't do any harm, since Maddie wouldn't even be there. So, I drove up to Portland." She took a deep breath. "Talk about awkward! His new wife is looking at me like I'm a leper, Daniel's folks won't look me in the eye, and Daniel's so nervous he's about to pee his pants. Finally, I just asked Daniel's mother if she would show me Maddie's room and she led me up the stairs.

  "Oh, God, I was so proud to see how beautiful my baby had become. She looks just like Grade did as a kid! So strong and healthy. And smart as a whip, too. Her grandmother showed me report cards and certificates of merit. She won the spelling contest two years in a row." She beamed, a mother's pride undeniable, though her grief at having missed all these events was evident.

  "But that all seemed to end around the fifth grade. Her last report cards were awful. So were some of the drawings in her notebook. I'm no shrink, but Maddie's definitely troubled. You can tell that by the letters. It breaks my heart to think about it." Her eyes threatened to well up again.

  "What letters?" I asked.

  "From the camp. They let the kids use e-mail. Her first letter was just like they told Daniel to expect. Daniel's wife let me make copies. Here." She dug a rubber-banded stack of folded sheets from her purse and handed me the top one.

  Dad. If you care about me at all, get me out of here! This place is a prison! I thought the Gestapo was outlawed! I hope you're not paying for this torture. Please, please, please! I promise to be nice again. I'll try! Love, Maddie

  "She's thirteen?"

  Connie nodded. "It tore Daniel up. He called the place and demanded a visit. The woman in charge said he shouldn't worry — that all the kids' letters sounded like that the first few months. Said a visit at that point would only undo all the good that had been accomplished. She reminded him that he'd signed an agreement and that the rules were clearly stated. No visits the first six months, and then only if earned by the student. Inmate is more like it. He said the only thing that kept him from driving up there and kidnapping her was the calls from the shrink."

  "Madeline sees a therapist there?"

  "He calls once a week. According to him, Maddie is progressing nicely."

  "What's his name?" I asked. I hadn't agreed to take the case, whatever the case actually was, but I'd started taking notes out of habit.

  "Dr. Biscane. Daniel thinks he really cares about Maddie. He's the only real contact Daniel has with the camp."

  "Show her the other letters," Gracie prompted.

  Connie sighed and handed me another folded page.

  Dear Dad, What? Did you think that by sending me her
e I'd suddenly turn into a girl scout? What a laugh! If you want to know the truth, I hate this. But then I hate just about everything. You probably don't know that though. What do you know? You spend all your time with Suzette. The whole world could burn down, for all you'd care. So don't worry about me. If you even still remember who I am. Maddie.

  "Sounds like a good thing the kid's seeing a shrink up there," I said.

  "Wait till you see the next one. Show her, Connie." Connie handed me the last printout.

  Dear Dad, Things are not so bad but it's still cold. I have no CLUE when summer will finally arrive. I did something dumb yesterday and tried to run away. It was a stupid thing to do but it made me realize how lucky I am to have a roof over my head. THEY work me hard but I'm learning quite a bit. I hate to admit it, but sometimes this place isn't quite so bad. Say hi to DREMUR for me. I really MISS him. I hope he's being a good dog. Tell my SISter to put my room back the way I left it because I'll be home SON! Your daughter, Maddie. p.s., when I'm out of here, I'd really like to go to the GRANDE canyon!

  "Hmm," I said. "She runs away one day and the next day everything is suddenly rosy?"

  "That's not the half of it," Gracie said. "First of all, Maddie doesn't have a dog named Dremur. She never had a dog in her life. Second, she doesn't have a sister. "

  "Oh," I said.

  "Exactly," Gracie said.

  "And Maddie won the spelling contest two years in a row," Connie reminded me. "No way she'd misspell 'Grand Canyon,' let alone soon. She's obviously trying to tell us something." She looked at Gracie, then me, daring us to challenge her on this. Her black eyes were fierce.

  "What's Daniel think?"

  "He said Maddie's always had a vivid imagination and that she's probably pretending to have a dog and sister to impress someone at the camp. The shrink told Daniel that at first some of the kids invent fantasies about their lives back home and that it's nothing to worry about. I couldn't believe they were willing to just let it go that easily. That's why I asked for copies. It took me a while to figure it out but I finally got it. See the words she wrote in all caps? She didn't do that in the other letters. If you just take the capitalized words by themselves, she's sending us a message."

  I noticed Connie had begun thinking of the letters as addressed to her, but didn't point this out. I read the capitalized words aloud. CLUE THEY DREMUR MISS SIS SON GRANDE. I read it again. "This make sense to you?" I asked.

  "Not at first," Gracie said. "But play with the letters a little, Cass. What do you call it when someone rearranges the letters to make a different word?"

  "An anagram?"

  "Right. I think DREMUR's supposed to be an anagram for MURDER"

  "They MURDER MISS SIS SON GRANDE!?"

  "Miss Sisson. She's one of the teachers. And I think GRANDE is an anagram for danger. Connie, show her the brochure."

  Connie handed me a tri-folded pamphlet featuring wholesome looking teens riding horseback with a beautiful forest as backdrop. Inside, the main features of the camp were highlighted, punctuated by a few candid snapshots of staff and students. I scanned the photos. In one, a robust blonde in her thirties stood by a computer while a student worked the keyboard. The caption read, "Miss Sisson, one of our highly-trained staff, gives one-on-one instruction in the classroom. 80% of Camp Turnaround graduates go on to graduate high school."

  I refolded the brochure and sat back in the swivel chair.

  "What makes you think Madeline isn't just yanking her father's chain?" I asked.

  "That's what I said at first," Grade said. "But what if she isn't?"

  "I called the camp," Connie said. "Pretended to be an old friend looking up Miss Sisson. They told me she's no longer an employee. I asked when she'd left, and they said she had some sort of family emergency a week ago, and that they weren't sure if she'd be back. The lady asked me for my name so she could give Miss Sisson the message if she did return, and I made one up."

  "And Daniel isn't concerned about a possible hidden message?"

  "First off, he thinks I'm seeing things that aren't there. He says now he knows where Maddie gets her imagination. Plus, he thinks the place is working miracles. Not just him, but his parents and new wife, too. They couldn't be more thrilled with Maddie's progress. Even if it didn't mean losing all that money, I'd never be able to convince Daniel to take Maddie out of there. And I don't really have a say in it. I gave up my right to Maddie when I signed the custody papers." She sighed and her voice wavered. "I never would've done it if I'd known I was going to get out."

  "I'd like to help, but I'm not sure what you want me to do," I said at last. This was met with utter silence. Gracie raised an eyebrow.

  "What?" I asked.

  "You used to be a teacher," she said.

  "Uh, huh?"

  She grinned. It was that conspiratorial look I remembered, the one that made you feel like a complete wimp if you weren't up to the challenge.

  "They're looking for a sub for Miss Sisson."

  "And how would you know that?" I asked.

  "Because I drove out there yesterday," she said, grinning. "You're looking at the new stable-hand."

  "Stable-hand?"

  "They breed and raise horses. After Connie left Daniel's, she came to see me and showed me Maddie's letters. I checked the place out on the internet. It just so happens they post an employment page listing the various openings, and one of them was for a stable-hand during the spring foaling. I drove up to see if there was any way to get a feel for the place. I figured, a few days on the inside, I could see for myself what was going on. I didn't really expect to get hired, but apparently, there aren't that many people anxious to move all the way out into the boonies for mediocre pay. Anyway, I start tomorrow and figured two heads might be better than one. With me working the stables and you in the camp, together we ought to find out if anything funny's going on."

  "So you want me to try and get a job at this camp? As a teacher?"

  "There is an opening. They've got it posted on the employment page, complete with application. Boot up your computer and I'll show you." Gracie looked as stoic as any Native American I'd ever seen in a western. Strong, penetrating eyes, firm line separating lips, slight crease between the brows. Even though I sensed she could do this look for effect, it was nonetheless daunting.

  "I just want to make sure my daughter's okay," Connie cut in. "After thinking I'd never lay eyes on her again, and then coming so close, only to find out she's locked away in some camp, and now to think that there might be some danger there, it's more than I can take!"

  I sipped cool coffee and thought about it. "Just because Miss Sisson left doesn't mean necessarily Maddie's in danger. But I guess it couldn't hurt to make sure. If everything checks out okay, you plan to leave her there?"

  "I have no choice, I guess. Daniel seems to think it's doing her some good. Maybe the shrink there can get to the bottom of her problems. I just want her to be happy."

  "Tell you what," Gracie said, winking at her cousin. "If it turns out she's just playing a prank, I'll kick her little butt from that camp to China and back. It's high time she got to know her Aunt Gracie anyway."

  "You sure she won't recognize you?" I asked.

  Gracie frowned. "I was up in Canada from the time she was born right through Connie's accident. When Connie got sent up, I tried to see the kid, but Daniel thought my resemblance to Connie might confuse her and make things worse. I'm ashamed to admit it, but she wouldn't know me from Adam."

  "You realize that there's a possibility they may not hire me," I said.

  "I kinda doubt people are beating down the doors to apply, Cass. Wait 'til you see the application. And I'm telling you, this place is out in the middle of nowhere. I think they'll take what they can get."

  I gave Gracie a look and she shrugged sheepishly. "That didn't come out exactly right," she said, "So, you up for it?"

  I owed Gracie. But for some reason I felt tentative. Then it hit me. It was that damned dream.
For the first time since becoming a PL, I was afraid to take a case. I was losing my nerve. Furious, I forced a smile and nodded. "I'll need directions," I said.

  Connie smiled, and it changed her whole appearance. The last nine years had taken their toll on her, but underneath the pain and suffering, she was a beautiful woman.

  "We made a pretty good team before, Cass." Gracie said, getting up and moving to look out the window. The sky was beginning to lighten, but the rain continued unabated. She turned, settling those deep, dark eyes on me. "Think we can do it again?"

  I thought about it. I looked from Connie to Gracie and nodded.

  "Yeah. If there's something going on down there, we'll find it. And if there isn't, I'll help you kick Maddie's little butt myself."

  Chapter Two

  After Gracie and Connie left, I called a friend of mine, Sheriff Tom Booker. Aside from his job as sheriff, Booker ran a horse ranch on his property, which sprawled along the very edge of Rainbow Lake, about fifteen minutes from my place by boat. He'd been threatening to retire for years so he could expand his stock and work the ranch full-time, but so far I hadn't noticed him slowing down much.

  "Think you could use a hired hand around the ranch?" I asked. I told him about Grade's cousin and the trouble she was having landing a decent job.

  "She know anything about horses?"

  "I think she's a fast learner, Tom. I'm sure she's a hard worker."

  Booker hesitated, and I could just picture him twirling the ever-present toothpick between his teeth while he thought it over. It was a lot to ask, I knew. But Booker knew I wouldn't ask if it weren't important. Finally, he sighed. "I've got that old cottage out back that's not much more than a shack. I suppose she could stay there if she's willing to fix it up. There's plenty of work, that's for sure. I lost old Fete a few months ago and haven't hired a replacement yet. I want someone I can trust."