Finding Emma

F
INDING
E
MMA

BY STEENA HOLMES

© 2012, Steena Holmes

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws

and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,

electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,

or by any information storage and retrieval system

without express written permission from the author.

FINDING EMMA has been a story dear to my heart. I am very honored to donate proceeds from each book to the Missing Children’s Society of Canada - an organization that focuses on reuniting families.

A special thank you to my own family, for believing in me and never letting me give up on my dream. Micah, Ayla and Judah - thank you for helping me create Hannah, Alexis and Emma. Without you these girls wouldn’t have come alive.

Thank you to my extremely handsome and supportive husband for his never ending supply of coffee, chocolate and belief in me.

Sophia Paige Lewis - thank you for being Emma on my cover. You are absolutely beautiful and I knew as soon as I saw your picture that I wanted you to be on this cover!

Jennifer Jones with Luxe Photography - without you I wouldn’t have this beautiful cover!

There are so many wonderful women who fell in love with Emma’s story, it’s not possible to thank each one individually - but you know who you are!

Sherri Gall - that talk on my couch when Emma’s story came to life - this is for you!

CHAPTER ONE

A
child’s scream
shattered the peaceful silence of the Sunday afternoon.

Megan shot up from the blanket, her heart hammering as she scanned the street in front of her. She groaned as two of her daughters squirted each other in a water gun fight as they came up the walkway. She’d dozed off. Again. The late nights working on Peter’s books had to stop. Yesterday she’d woken up to find Emma across the street at the neighbors’, half crawled into their dog house.

She glanced down at her youngest child who played with a dandelion on the blanket. Thank God, she was still there. Her three-year-old gazed in rapture at the sky.

“Red balloon, Momma?”

Megan twirled her fingers in Emma’s tight curls. “Later, honey.”

“Red, Momma. Red balloons,” Emma gestured towards the sky with her pudgy fingers. Megan turned her head and noticed the explosion of color that filled the air. Red, yellow and blue balloons danced with the breeze as they swept across the sky.

The annual carnival was here, just in time for the end of school celebration their small town always held. It was also Emma’s birthday. Megan wished for time to stand still. Her baby was growing too fast.

“Mom, can we have a popsicle?” Hannah shook droplets of water over Megan’s bare legs. She gasped at the coldness. Laughing, Megan jumped up and backed away from her soaked daughter only to find a giggling Emma clutched around her leg.

“Don’t you come any closer,” Megan had a hard time keeping the smile off her face before a sparkle of mischief lit up Hannah’s blue eyes as she lunged across the blanket. Laughing, Megan scooped up Emma, ran towards the front door and closed the screen in Hannah’s face. Alexis crossed the driveway, stepping over Megan’s gladiola and aimed the almost empty water gun at her older sister.

“Alexis Marie Taylor, if you douse your sister in more water, she’ll get your half of the popsicle,” Megan warned. Alexis’ eyes widened as she dropped the water gun on the grass and bounded across to the porch before placing her arms around Hannah’s shoulders.

“Would I do that?” Alexis tilted her head and beamed the most innocent smile Megan had ever seen.

Megan snorted. “No monkey business you two or Emma and I will eat your popsicles. Got it?” Megan narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. Who knew, maybe the serious look would do the trick?

“Come on in and get dried off. Your dad should be home soon.” She opened the screen door for the girls to come in and then locked it. The past couple of days Emma had snuck outside behind Megan’s back to catch some butterflies. Or try to at least.

For dinner, they were going downtown to watch the parade and eat corn dogs, candied apples and cotton candy at the carnival. The girls were so excited. Peter had even promised the girls he’d win them each a stuffed teddy bear and Megan couldn’t wait to show Emma the clowns.

“Why don’t we play a game of hopscotch while we wait for your dad?” Megan called after the girls as they ran up the stairs to change. She loved being a mother, even though having three girls so close in age exhausted her. Being a mom fulfilled her in more ways than she thought possible.

“Hey, Em? How about we make some more lemonade? This time we’ll add less sugar.” She’d let the girls make it just after lunch and Alexis had almost dumped the whole container of sugar in the bowl.

The phone rang just as footsteps pounded down the stairs.

“Just going out to grab my hair band,” Hannah yelled.

“Lock the door when you come back in,” Megan called out just as the screen door slammed.

With the phone balanced between her shoulder and ear, Megan opened the fridge and rooted inside for the filtered water jug. She groaned when she realized it was empty. She’d forgotten to fill it after pouring a glass earlier. The automated message informed her that the Sears catalogue order was in. She frowned. She hadn’t ordered anything. When the automated voice repeated its message, Megan grabbed her daily calendar and flipped through the last few weeks to see if she’d written down anything. Weird. There was nothing in her notes.

A quick glance at the clock after hanging up the phone confirmed Peter should be home any minute.

“All right, pumpkin, let’s go change your pull-up and get ready to watch the parade. Just wait till you see the clowns—” Megan turned to towards Emma only to find herself talking to an empty room.

“Emma?” Megan walked into the living room fully expecting to find Emma in there, playing with her new ponies Peter had given her before he left for work.

The room was empty.

She retraced her steps and headed out to the hallway.

“Emma, are you upstairs? Girls, is your sister with you?” Megan took a step, gripped the railing and waited to hear Emma’s running footsteps. She didn’t remember hearing the slam of the screen door when Hannah came back in.

“Not here,” Hannah called out.

Startled, Megan took her foot off the step, glanced around and looked at the screen door. “Hannah, did you lock the door like I told you to?” She fought to keep the panic out of her voice as she ran across the hallway to the open door.

Megan couldn’t breathe.

Unlocked.

“Emma!” Megan ran outside calling her baby’s name. She stopped in the middle of the driveway and scanned the area. Nothing. She wasn’t chasing butterflies, pulling flowers out of the garden or playing with dandelions. She wasn’t anywhere.

Megan screamed as loud as she could as tears streamed down her face.

Emma was gone.

CHAPTER TWO

TWO YEARS LATER

If looks could kill
, her daughter would be a goddess while Megan crumpled to dust in the hallway. All from the glance of a ten year old.

“Why, Mom? Why won't you let us walk?” Alexis half-turned on the stairs, hands on her hips as she challenged a rule they had created two years ago.

Megan closed her eyes and pinched the top of her nose. Tiny drops of water from the end of her ponytail dripped down the back of her neck. She’d rushed through her shower.

“Alexis, you know why,” she said. Her head throbbed. Great. It was only eight in the morning and she already had a headache. Megan headed to the kitchen for aspirin and water.

“But you let us walk home ...” Alexis followed her.

“Yes, with an adult. Not alone. Sorry, but you are not walking to school by yourself. Honestly, Alex. Why do you have to push this? And today of all days.” With last night’s attempted abduction plastered all over the news there was no way another one of her daughters would be kidnapped. Not this time.

The afternoon program for the Walk Home Alone she’d started up was going well, but she couldn’t round up enough volunteers to help in the mornings. She hoped by next year she would. Until then, she would continue to drive her daughter to school. It was the least she could do.

“What’s the big deal? Dad trusts us enough to walk home from school.”

Megan swallowed the pills and leaned against the counter. “I'm not Dad.”

The look of defiance on her daughter’s face dissolved before she walked out of the kitchen and headed back up the stairs. Megan shook her head.

“Stop arguing and just get ready,” she called over her shoulder. The thud of her daughter's feet as they stomped up the stairs sounded along the hardwood floor.

“And change into a pair of pants without holes in the knees,” she said before Alexis had the chance to slam her door.

Megan grabbed her glass of water and headed into Peter's office.

His desk was a mess. Books were piled up in one corner, stacks of bills and house appraisals in the other. His laptop had been moved to the edge of his desk so he could read the morning news. Peter sat there, his fingers splayed through this hair.

“Did you know about this?” He leaned back in his chair and held the front page up for her to see.

The missing headline captivated her attention. A ball of steel dropped in Megan’s stomach. Oh God, please let that little girl be okay. Her heart raced at the thought of another family having to experience their nightmare.

She pulled the paper towards her when she realized the picture wasn’t of the little girl plastered all over the evening news, but of Emma.

Her baby.

‘Always remembered, always loved. Emma Taylor will turn five years old today. As a town, we pray for her safe return.’

“I had no idea.” Megan’s hand shook as she scanned the article and read about the attempted abduction beneath a recap about Emma. She handed the paper back to Peter who folded it up and let it drop to the floor before reaching for Megan.

“I was thinking we could play hooky and spend the day together. Maybe go for a drive along the beach?” Peter pulled her into his lap and ran his hand along her jaw line before he cupped the back of her neck and brought her close.

Megan pulled away. “I have that assembly later this afternoon I need to get ready for.”

She watched the light in Peter’s eyes dim. “But, I could always pick up some coffee...”

Peter eyed her chest and winked. “Is there anything else on the menu with the coffee?”

Megan leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his lips.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice transformed into a husky whisper. She pulled away only to be tugged back down. This time Peter didn't settle for small kiss. When his lips met hers, he didn't hold back. He made sure she knew what he wanted on the menu. Megan sighed. It had been so long ...

“Augh, would you guys get a room or something! Gross.” Alexis groaned from outside the door.

“Oops,” Megan said while Peter rubbed at his face with his free hand. “I'll be back with coffee.”

Peter's voice stopped her from leaving. “Do you promise?”

Megan looked at Peter. Really looked at him. She knew he meant more than just coffee. Their intimacy, or lack thereof, was starting to hurt their marriage. She could see it in his eyes.

“Yes,” she said. She gave him a wink before facing her daughter.

“I was thinking we could go out for ice cream or something tonight. You know, to celebrate...” She listened to the silence that met her words.

She took the brush and elastic Alexis held out, spun her daughter around so her back faced her, and then pulled her hair into a ponytail high on her head.

“Are we really going to celebrate Emma’s birthday?” Alexis asked.

Peter walked out of the room.

Megan swallowed past the lump in her throat as she caught the slight droop of his shoulders. “Of course we will.” She kissed the top of her daughter’s head before turning her around to give her a brief hug and glancing down at her new outfit. Alexis had changed into a brown sundress with tiny white flowers along the hem, a soft purple cardigan over top and blue socks pulled high up her legs. Megan shook her head but kept her mouth shut. This battle is not worth it. At least she’d changed her pants.

“All right you. Ready? How about if I drop you off at the corner this time so you can pretend you didn't get a ride to school,” Megan placed her arm around her daughter’s shoulders.

Alexis shrugged. “Whatever.” They both knew Megan wouldn't drive away until she knew both her children were safe inside the school. She never did.

*****

Megan tapped her fingers against the steering wheel to the song on the radio. Something about a girl and a white horse. She didn't really listen to the song, she just liked the beat.

She pulled her phone out of her purse and scrolled through the notifications. Seven new emails and one text message. She glanced up, noticed the car in front of her still hadn't moved forward in the line for the drive-thru. She should have just gone inside and ordered, but when she compared the line of people standing at the doors compared to the line of cars, waiting in her vehicle won, hands down.

She clicked on the text message from her husband --
hurry home
. A smile bloomed on Megan’s face. Her fingers danced across the small keyboard on her phone as she texted him back. The man needed to have some patience. It had been too long since they played hooky from their schedules. Just the thought sent a flutter of excitement to course through her stomach. It had been too long indeed.

Megan glanced in her side view mirror. With two cars behind her, it was too late for her to change her mind and suggest they just make coffee at home. She could be here awhile.

She placed her phone on the passenger seat and thought back to when she dropped her daughters, Alexis and Hannah off at the school. A block away from the school grounds, Alexis had begged her to pull over. Up ahead were a group of kids she recognized and there was no way she was going to be caught with her mom. Megan waited as they sprinted down the sidewalk to catch up with the group. Only Hannah, her oldest, looked back to wave. True to her word, Megan didn't drive away until she knew the girls were safe inside the school grounds.

Her phone buzzed. Another text from Peter. As she reached down to grab the phone, the bobbing of yellow curls in her rear-view mirror caught her eye. Her heart stopped.

Emma.

She grabbed onto the steering wheel and forced herself to take a deep breath. She tried to remember the steps her counselor gave her to do the next time she thought she saw her missing daughter.

Number one: take a deep breath. Right. Megan filled up her lungs and tried exhale only to have it catch in her throat.

Those yellow curls bobbed again, beside an outstretched hand.

Number two: count to five. One. Megan let out the air trapped in her lungs. Two. She looked in the mirror again, desperate for another glimpse. Three. She drank in the sight of the little girl. Hair in pigtails with a pink ribbon attached the elastics. She wore a spring jacket, white with large colored flowers.

Please turn your head, please turn your head.

Megan grabbed onto the steering wheel, the counting forgotten as she waited for a view of the little girl’s face. With her head half turned, a tiny dimple showed as the girl beamed a huge smile up to the woman who held her hand.

Emma has a dimple.

The phone vibrated on the seat again. Megan ignored it. Her hand crept over to the door handle, her fingers grasped onto the latch and she pulled it open. That was her daughter. She knew it. The yellow curly hair, the dimple in her cheek, she looked the same size and age. It had to be her.

She opened the door and swung her leg out, only to have her Jeep lurch forward. She jammed her foot on the break, put the car in park and hopped out.

The girl was gone. Despite the cars behind her, she ran across the parking lot and grabbed onto the store door as it swung shut.

Her daughter and a strange woman stood before her. Their backs were turned. She paused, listened to the gentle cadence of Emma's voice, letting it wash over her before she stepped forward and yanked her daughter's tiny hand out of the woman's. The little girl turned.

Megan sank to her knees, her vision blurred by the tears that swelled up in her eyes.

“Emm...a.” Megan's voice faltered as she looked into the eyes of the little girl before her. They were brown. Brown. Not blue. Not the sea blue that shone when Emma was happy, or the pale blue when they were filled with tears.

Not Emma's eyes.

Megan stood and took a step back, she held her hands out in front of her.

“I'm so sorry. So sorry...I thought she...my daughter's...missing for two years,” Megan's voice faltered. She couldn't look down at the little girl so she stared only at the woman who looked at her with a mixture of pity and anger.

“I'm so sorry.”

She took another step back and something stopped her. She turned only but her way of escape was blocked. When an older man grabbed for her she brought up her arms, pushed his hands away and rushed out of the coffee shop. Tears blocked her view and she almost stumbled off the curb.

A horn honked. She looked up and a woman in the van parked behind her scowled. Megan hurried to her Jeep, opened the door and fumbled with her seatbelt. The honking continued while her phone buzzed. Megan placed her head in her hands as sobs tore through her body.

Not Emma. All she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and succumb to the horror of what she’d just done.

The van behind her honked again, this time longer. Megan put the Jeep in drive and pulled ahead. She was boxed in on all sides in the drive-thru. No way to escape, no way to get away from the woman with her child, the child that looked so much like Emma, yet wasn't her.

****

Megan pulled into her driveway and she realized she'd forgotten all about Peter. She stared down at the now cold coffees beside her and sighed. As if this day could get any worse. Stuck in the drive-thru, she'd managed to choke out her order for coffee. She hid her face at the window, wordlessly handed the money for the coffee and took off before without her change. She'd then driven around, mindless to her surroundings. At one point, she pulled over to close her heavy eyes. She was empty of tears. Empty of emotion.

As she walked in the door, the silence slapped her in the face. Megan slipped off her shoes and her bare feet slapped against the floor as she walked to the kitchen. She placed the coffee on the island and read the note left by Peter:

‘Broken promises hurt. Actions speak louder than words.’

Megan buried her head in her hands. Little by little, their marriage was falling apart. The fact he'd leave her a note like this said a lot. Too much. Once upon a time, it wouldn't have been an issue, he would have understood. Not now. She wadded up the paper and tossed it into the recycling can beside the garbage. She glanced at the coffee, unwilling to drink it cold but also unable to heat it up.

The phone rang. Megan closed her eyes and tried to ignore its incessant ringing. She walked into the living room and sank into the chair closest to the large bay windows. With her head leaned back against the cushion, Megan relaxed her body, another step her counselor suggested she try. Empty herself of all thoughts, will the tension to release out of her shoulders, imagine her feet grounded and she pushed all the negative energy out, starting from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

Her counselor said something about a tree with roots and focusing on the depths of those roots, but that seemed too 'new agey' for her. Her mother wanted her to pray, but all her prayers went unanswered, so she settled for the middle. She took a deep breath, counted to five before she released it. Her body deflated as the air escaped out of her lungs.

As she sank into the chair, she opened her eyes and focused on a picture on the wall ahead of her. Emma. The Christmas before she was taken. Her cute little chubby cheeks with the dimple in the middle.