Not Your Child

RCMP Constable Kenneth MacCormick parked his SUV at the edge of the road, stopping short of the accident.

The snowstorm had definitely ended. The Alberta sky was a brilliant blue, and the sun reflecting off the snow-covered fields was blinding, though it brought no warmth. The temperature was minus 21 Celsius.

Snow was piled high on either side of the road. He walked ahead to the scene marked off with flares, his boots crunching on the snow. Jerry Kowalczyk from the Ponoka detachment was waiting for him. “Mac, you’re not gonna like this.”

Mac nodded to Jerry. “You were first on the scene?”

“Yeah, first police. George Sanders called it in—he saw it when he came by with the snowplow this morning.”

They stood side by side, gazing into the deep ditch and the pickup truck half-buried in snow at the bottom. The truck lay tipped on its passenger side, nose against the far bank.

“Are those your footprints?” asked Mac.

“Yeah, mine and George’s. He went down to see if anyone needed help, saw there were two people but they were dead. I went down too to make sure.”

Mac considered the scene. “So what happened here?”

“It’s a mess. Looks like they were hit head-on; the whole left-hand side of the cab is smashed in. The driver’s airbag inflated, but that wasn’t enough to protect him. The woman was in the passenger seat and didn’t have her seat belt on. She went through the front windshield.”

Mac whistled. “Whatever hit them had to be travelling at quite a clip.”

Jerry cleared his throat and spat. “Yeah, for sure. But that’s not all. There are a lot of other footprints down there, partly full of snow. Somebody else was there before us, a while after the accident but before the snow stopped. They did quite a bit of walking around the vehicle. I have no idea what they were doing.”

Mac frowned. “Anything else?”

“Well, there’s a baby’s car seat in the back seat. But it’s empty.”

Daniel almost didn’t notice the two girls that morning. He was busy reattaching Tucker’s leash to keep him close. In dog years, Tucker was older than Daniel’s sixty-three, but he still tried to run like a pup. Daniel relaxed against the park bench, the October sunshine warming his shoulders, idly listening to bird calls and the nearby Ottawa traffic.

But something about the girls caught his eye. At first just that they were there, walking on the other side of the narrow downtown park. Not quite teenagers, as far as he could tell, still at that coltish age. One girl with dark hair, one blonde. They chattered to each other as they approached.

Then one of them laughed, the blonde with the bouncy ponytail. He froze, spellbound. That face, that hair, that dancing figure. It was like seeing Kelly again. That’s how she moved as a young teen, all loose arms and legs, partway between gawky and graceful. And the laugh—Kelly laughed like that.

Just like that.

The girl smiled like Kelly, too, with a slight twist at the side of her mouth.

For a moment he was back there, with Kelly on the farm. She was reaching to catch the softball he’d thrown to her, practicing for the team tryout at school the next day. Patricia stood on the front porch, about to call them in for supper.

He blinked and shook his head, returning to the present. There’d been too many of these times lately, when he found himself lost in memory.

Refocusing, he saw that the two girls were leaving the park.

Another thought struck him. No, it was a crazy notion. But the idea refused to budge.

Could she be...Hannah?

No. Just a trick of his brain. How could she be here?

But he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Now he couldn’t let it go. Almost without volition, he rose to follow the girls. The girl.

“Here, boy.” He didn’t need to pull the leash—Tucker trotted beside him.

Daniel strode along steadily, dodging pedestrians, staying half a block behind the girls. They crossed the street ahead of him, but he made it across before the light changed.

Uneasy questions batted at him. How could Hannah turn up here, after all these years? It was too good to be true. It must be his imagination. He’d been wrong before.

But he kept moving, making sure not to let the girl get too far ahead of him.

She does look like Kelly, Patricia’s voice whispered in his head. That’s not imagination.

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. He’d been hearing Patricia’s voice more often lately. Sometimes it was a comfort, like she was still with him. Other times, it gave him shivers.

It doesn’t matter how she got here. Just don’t lose her now!

****

The girls went through a gate into a schoolyard. Kids were milling around, some tossing balls or running, others standing in groups or pushing each other. About a dozen clustered near the door, starting to crowd into the building.

Daniel only hesitated for a minute. He’d be kicked out if anybody in charge noticed him, but he needed to know more about her. He tied Tucker to the fence and entered the schoolyard.

The two girls stopped to chat with a boy, then headed into the school.

Daniel moved forward and tapped the boy on the shoulder, a short redhead with glasses. “That girl you just talked to…”

The boy turned to him, squinting. “Which one?”

“The blonde girl.”

“You mean Maddy?”

Daniel nodded. Ah, that’s what they call her. “Is she in your grade?”

“Nah.” The boy shook his head “What’s her last name?”

But the boy had already turned away. Daniel tried not to show his frustration.

Patricia was in his head again. Don’t lose her. You need to find out where she lives.

He’d have to follow her home.

****

That afternoon, he went back to the school. He and Tucker walked up and down the street, keeping the schoolyard gate in sight, waiting for school to let out. He couldn’t watch all the exits, but if he missed her today, he’d try again tomorrow.

Just after 3:15, she appeared. Blonde ponytail swinging, backpack on her shoulders, in a group of kids. The group split up at the corner. She crossed the street beside the same dark-haired girl she’d been with that morning.

Daniel followed, again staying a half block behind them. There was more mid-afternoon traffic than he’d expected. Taxis honking, buses rumbling by. Could be tourists, coming back from the Parliament buildings.

Several times he had to pull Tucker into a storefront doorway to avoid bumping into clumps of pedestrians on the sidewalk.

The girls turned and entered the park; they seemed to be retracing their route from the morning. He hurried to cross the busy street, holding Tucker’s leash tight.

A musky damp-leaf odor filled the air, mingling with a faint scent of wood smoke. Daniel stayed well back, matching the girls’ pace. Then they stopped, turning to face in his direction. He stopped too, trying to act casual, bending to pet Tucker. When he looked up, they had vanished.

Where did they go? Hurrying ahead, he saw a set of steps rising from the park to a residential street. He mounted the steps with Tucker close beside him. At the top, he peered around a leafy shrub. The two girls were entering a small red brick house on the left.