The Runaway Train Read online

  "He didn't run away.” There was a quaver in Sandra Winfield's voice. She wore a black wool sweater, and her eyeliner was smeared. Her smooth green eyes moved from Selena to Kathryn and back to Selena. "My son has no reason to do that."

  "You're wasting time," the boy’s father, Stan Winfield, said. He didn't sound like a man who was grieving the loss of his son. He sounded more like a father who would do anything in his power to find the boy. "Shouldn't you be out there looking for him instead of in here on my damn sofa?"

  Kathryn raised her eyebrows. "We're trying to make this as easy for you as possible, Mr. Winfield. In order to best help find Ethan, we're going to need a little more information."

  "They're just trying to do their job, Stan." Sandra dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and shifted her legs underneath her on the love seat facing the detectives. "Let them do it."

  "I'll handle this, dear," Stan said and looked directly at Selena. He had a scar etched into the side of his cheek, and neatly combed hair that had been moussed. He wore a navy colored suit jacket with a deep blue tie smeared at the edge with ash. "This is intolerable!"

  Although he raised his voice, Stan's facial expression didn't change at all.

  That alone made Selena wonder about the sincerity behind his words. "I worked a case once where a father had lost track of his daughter at the zoo," she said. "They were at the monkey exhibit when he bent down to light a cigarette; it was a windy day. He let go of her hand. When he looked up again, she was gone. It took nearly three weeks to find her body underneath a park bench a mile away. She was found clutching his pack of cigarettes."

  "What the hell is your point?" Stan blinked.

  "The girl wanted more than anything for her daddy to stop smoking," Selena continued, "a detail that he neglected to share with the authorities. He didn't even report that the pack was missing around the same time that his daughter vanished, because he was too hard pressed to skip most of our questions. Instead, we were led to believe that the child had been abducted by her mother. They were divorced, you see, and engaged in a fierce custody battle."

  Kathryn cleared her throat loudly. "Is that coffee I smell?"

  Stan's eyes dropped to his shoes. "It's just that... I don't like all of these questions.” His expression had finally been broken. It was the moment that Selena had hoped she would achieve.

  "Me either," she said. "So, there's no need to drag this out. It's okay to be upset, angry even. Just don't misplace it when we're only trying to help."

  Stan rose from his seat and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'll get the coffee."

  The turbulent mood had settled into a gentle sway that went back and forth between the investigators and Ethan's parents. The four of them talked for the next half hour, and a broader picture of Ethan began to appear. He loved baseball, he attended Church every Sunday and Wednesday, he read fantasy books and played video games. Ethan didn't have a lot of friends because he was a bit shy-always had been due to a speech delay earlier in life.

  With deliberate slowness, Selena leaned forward and took a long drink from her mug. She kept her gaze locked onto Stan, whose eyes flitted about the room with nervous anticipation.

  "Is there anyone you know of who might want to hurt Ethan?" The question came from Kathryn, who sat up straight with her hands folded in her lap.

  Sandra looked teary-eyed. "No. Nobody."

  "You said that he didn't have many friends," Selena said, "Can you tell us if Ethan had a girlfriend? Anyone that he might have been interested in?"

  Sandra didn't say anything. The two parents suddenly looked uncomfortable. Kathryn raised her eyebrows in curiosity. Selena scribbled in her little notepad.

  "There was someone.” Stan broke the tension. "Last summer, a girl named Vanessa. Ethan met her at a church summer camp. Every letter that he wrote home, he talked about her. By the time camp was over, he was devastated. I had never seen him so upset before."

  "Can you tell me the name of her parents?" Kathryn said.

  Stan shook his head. "Nah, I have no idea. That camp is huge. Kids from all over the county gather there. Her full name is Vanessa Finch, that much I do remember on account of all those letters. I think they might have even been pen pals for a while there.”

  Kathryn straightened. “Could I see those letters?”

  “I’m not sure where they are at this point. We’d have to get back to you.”

  "How upset was Ethan?" Selena startled them with the question, and it hung in the air like a vapor.

  "When Ethan came home," Stan said, "he wasn't the same, at least for a while. He kept shutting himself up in his room. One day we found him on the bathroom floor."

  "Stan!" Sandra's eyes were wide, pleading. "Don't."

  "He had gotten into Sandra's bottle of antidepressants, prescription stuff, you know? I don't remember how much he took, but he knew that it helped mommy feel better when she needed to, so... anyway, he had to have his stomach pumped and everything. It was pretty bad."

  "It's hard for me to say without knowing him better," Selena said, "but it could have been a cry for help. I don't think he knew the risks he was taking when he found the bottle. A twelve year old boy experiencing these emotions for the first time-it can be hard, and maybe he didn't know how to address them." She paused, narrowing her eyes in thought. "What's the name of the church that Ethan attends?"

  Sandra cleared her throat loudly. "Calvary Baptist," she sniffed. "It's out there off of Cedar Grove drive." Those green eyes darkened for a split second, but it didn't escape Selena's notice. "I don't see how any of this will help find our boy."

  "Maybe it will," Selena said, "maybe it won't. But it's a start."

  Chapter Five

  The rain made tiny white explosions on the pavement. It drummed against Selena's umbrella in a rhythmic symphony. When she looked up at her partner and noticed the rivulets running down her own tortoise shaped umbrella, she couldn't help but smile.

  "My dad always used to say that the weather never does what you want it to do."

  Kathryn shrugged while lifting her eyes to the bulging clouds. "In that case, I don't want it to be a bright and sunshiny day."

  "It senses your sarcasm," Selena said as she moved towards the water fountain at Harris Station. She took careful note of the distance between the bench where Sandra had sat and the fountain. "And it doesn't approve."

  "It was worth a shot," Kathryn said. She stood perfectly still, watching her partner. "Hey, I wanted to ask you. That story you told back there to Stan, the one about the little girl and the pack of cigarettes?"

  Selena slid a gloved hand across the stone face of the fountain. "What about it?"

  "Did that really happen, or were you just trying to get to him. You know, because he was being such an ass."

  "It really happened. Two years ago. Before we were working together." She knelt down on the pavement as though she were examining the puddles of water.

  "So the girl," Kathryn continued, "how did she die?"

  Selena turned her studied gaze towards the side of the station building. "There are places that you go to sometimes, places that the job takes you, that you'd rather not go back to. Some things you just can't unsee. Does that make sense?"

  “Yeah." Kathryn sagged her shoulders. "I understand, my bad."

  "Call the station, ask them about that security footage." Selena stood up and watched the water crashing into the fountain. "You said that the glove was here.” She motioned to the edge. “With the ball inside?"

  Kathryn pulled her cell phone out of her jacket pocket and examined its glowing surface. "Yeah, it was."

  "And the mother was on her phone.” Selena narrowed her eyes in thought. "Still, someone would have heard or seen a twelve year old boy in distress. I'd imagine that he could put up quite a bit of a struggle."

  "Don't tell me that you're buying into the whole runaway train theory. I told you that was just an urban myth."

  "Ethan loves baseball. He
would have taken the glove with him, and I'd like to think that he would at least take some clothes along. Plus, his mom was right over there for god's sake. No, he wouldn't run away."

  Kathryn held the phone up to her ear, waiting for the station desk to answer. "So, he was kidnapped."

  "By someone that he knew really well." Selena examined the stonework and followed it to the other side of the fountain. "Someone that he trusted." She peered around the side at the lonely bench across the way. "Ethan most likely went willingly."

  "You think our guy asked Ethan to leave his glove?" Kathryn held up a hand abruptly, before Selena could respond, and began speaking loudly into her phone. "Hey, Bailey. Yeah, did you guys look into that surveillance? What? Perfect. Just perfect."

  "What is it?" Selena watched her partner stuff the phone back into her pocket.

  "There's no surveillance tape," Kathryn said and pointed to the cameras on the side of the building. "City funding isn't what it used to be. They're fake."

  Selena felt disappointment bubble up inside her. "Anything to save a buck.” She frowned.

  Chapter Six

  It stopped raining by the time they reached the church. Sunlight broke through the clouds and splashed golden radiance against the side of the steeple. It reminded Selena of something out of a movie, the way the light danced and sparkled along the huge metal cross, but the ethereal sight was made stark by the backdrop of clouds. It appeared the looming threat wasn't quite gone after all.

  "You know," Kathryn said climbing out of the passenger side. "When I was a kid, we went to a little country church on a hill. You remember my sister, Patricia? She was really into it. Everyone would dress up, and everybody knew one another. Pat made more friends than me, but I feel like we grew closer because of the smaller social environment." She paused and swept an arm outward. "You get places like this that are so huge, and I don't know how anyone can develop a personal fellowship with anyone. Does that make sense?"

  "Of course.” Selena shrugged, following her partner through the parking lot towards the massive church building. "My dad was a Methodist, and he took us to church every Sunday. It wasn't a big place. Couldn't have been more than fifty people in attendance at a time."

  Kathryn grimaced. "See, that's what I'm talking about. The smaller it is, the more personable the experience. It's not a circus, or a pep rally." They made their way underneath an awning. "Here we are," she said before pulling open the door. "Please silence all cellphones and swear words."

  The inside of the building was much less majestic. It looked more like an office building with winding corridors and closed doorways. Occasional paintings hung solemnly on the white walls, depicting Biblical events, but to Selena they felt oddly out of place. Her shoes clacked loudly along the tile floor until she stopped at a directory.

  "It says we passed the office already.” She sighed.

  “Wonderful." Kathryn laughed.

  "Can I help you?" The voice startled both of the investigators. It boomed down the vacant hallways with authority, as though they were trespassers in a private realm.

  Kathryn spun on her heel to see a middle aged man with thinning hair and thick glasses approach. "We're looking for whoever is in charge of organizing the youth camp in the summer," she said in a squeaky voice.

  "That's Pastor Rob," the man said with raised eyebrows. “All of the church administration help run the camp, but he organizes it. He's also the director of our youth meetings here on Wednesdays, but he hasn't been around lately." Behind the thick glasses, his almond colored eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry. Maybe there's something that I can help you with. My name's Larry Rainer, and you are?"

  Selena moved her jacket aside to show the badge on her belt. "Does this Pastor Rob have a last name?"

  "Well," Larry placed his hands on his hips. "Yes, of course. Is he in some sort of trouble?"

  "You said that he hasn't shown up for services in a while?" Kathryn asked. "When was the last time you saw him?"

  "He's missed two Wednesday services," Larry said, appearing genuinely concerned. "It's been a real pain having to cover for him, especially since I already preach Sunday mornings and evenings. What's this about?"

  Kathryn pulled a photograph out of the inside of her coat and held it up to the man. "Do you recognize this kid?"

  Larry pushed the thick frames up on his nose and peered at the photo. "Yes, of course. That's Ethan Winfield. I heard that he’s been reported missing, that poor boy. He's a real good kid, sharp as a whip." He paused. "You don't think that Robert has something to do with his disappearance, do you?"

  "Right now, we need some information," Selena said matter-of-factly. "Can you get us the registration records for this past summer camp?"

  "Of course," Larry said, unmasked surprise transforming his peaceful expression. "Oh, his name is Robert Hindle." He motioned for them to follow as he shuffled along the hallway towards the office. "I can get you his address too, if you'd like. We've been really worried about him. One of our members stopped by his home yesterday, but nobody came to the door. We figured that he was just sick.” He fumbled with a tiny key before turning the handle and pushing the door inward. "Something has been going around, you know."

  "Apparently," Kathryn said. “Could you tell me if Vanessa Finch attends this church?” For a split second, she thought that she saw panic flash across the old pastor’s eyes.

  “No.” He flicked on a light in the small office. “Can’t say that I have ever heard that name before.”

  Chapter Seven

  Clouds stretched over the sky like a winter blanket. Shafts of sunlight lanced onto the road as though guiding the car along. The sight felt more bittersweet than ominous. After spending all of her life living in Montana, Selena knew the weather patterns that fell in line with the change of seasons. Today felt different, however. It was like the city itself was just as unsettled about her impending departure as she was.

  After her mother's death, she had fought tooth and nail to stay in her hometown. Even if that meant losing touch with her father when he moved off the ranch, all the way to Greybrook, N.C.. It was her older brother, Adrian, who vowed to keep an eye on her.

  It was a family business, hard work, but the young man seemed more than capable of running things. Adrian was pure cowboy, with mud caked boots, ten gallon hat, and a belt buckle that looked like something out of a John Wayne film. There were a few setbacks due to the shadow of a gambling addiction, but Selena helped out as much as possible until he could stand on his own two feet. Of course, their father knew none of this, and it remained unspoken between the siblings over the years. Until, that is, she called Adrian up out of the blue to tell him that she was moving to D.C.

  At first, he was strictly opposed to the idea of taking any time off from mucking out the stables and separating the cattle just so that he could haul his little sister's belongings across the country. All it took was one mention, one reminder that he was successful only because of what she had done for him, and he made the call to the moving company the same day.

  Now that she had built a life in Montana, she felt guilty for leaving. It wasn't the people or the job that made her feel this way. It was the fact that she had thrown her relationship with her father right out the window because of her teenage defiance. A part of her wanted to call him to catch up on old times, maybe to mend the gap that years had placed between them, but that was a conversation she didn't know how to start.

  "She's not on the registry anywhere.” Kathryn's voice startled her away from her thoughts. "Unless there's another file that I'm missing."

  "Vanessa Finch never went to that camp," Selena said while stopping at a red light. "Or she doesn't even exist."

  "Ethan's dad was pretty adamant that his kid was upset. Maybe he was mistaken, or isn't remembering the name right?"

  “I have no idea. We should contact them again, ask about the letters.”

  Kathryn closed the file and stared out the window at the passing traffic.
"Let's stop at this Pastor Rob's house. It's obvious that people are concerned about him, so I'd say that a wellness check is in order."

  There was silence for a moment. The two of them sat in the quiet cruiser waiting for the light to change. Selena watched a scatter of leaves glide along the sidewalk. Maybe when this was over, she'd give her old man a call. A wellness check didn't seem like a bad idea after all.

  Chapter Eight

  Selena Marrenger wheeled the police cruiser underneath the paved carport next to Robert Hindle's blue Saab. It was getting late in the day, and the sun was slowly making a descent behind mountains that would soon be tinted with deep purples and brilliant reds. The rolling clouds were making a swift retreat northeast, allowing for a welcoming spread of blue.

  Selena and Kathryn didn't speak on their way across the concrete flagstones leading to the front door. The suggestion that a youth minister could be involved in the disappearance of Ethan was unsettling, and hard for either detective to believe. They approached the door. Kathryn gave it a swift pounding with the bottom of her fist, and Selena turned her gaze out across the numerous acres of land owned by the pastor.

  "It's so beautiful up here," she said, lost in admiration.

  "You've been out here before, haven't you?" Kathryn followed her eyes across the grassy fields. "It's not like you haven't."

  Selena muttered something in reply that her partner couldn't hear. She didn't want the moment to pass, needing to hold on to the memories of Montana for as long as she possibly could. "In the summertime," she said softly, "I used to run as far out from the ranch house as I could. Me and my brother used to kick a ball around and play tag until the lightning bugs came out." She lowered her eyes then. "That was before the summers spent in Greybrook. It's weird to think about that, seems so long ago. Maybe too long."