Mercy Street (16 page)

“Mallory, it’s Charlie,” he said when she answered her phone. “Got time to take a ride with me tomorrow?”

SIXTEEN

W
aiting to leave until later in the afternoon was a good idea,” Mallory noted as Charlie got back into the car after filling up the gas tank on the turnpike. “We’re more likely to find Bauer at home if we arrive around dinner.”

“Which could be anytime between five and seven, depending on his habits, but yeah, I think we’ll have a better shot at finding him. Assuming he still lives there, assuming he works during the day and not a night shift…”

“Assuming he’ll talk to us.”

“I think he will. Unless he is a totally heartless bastard, he has to be concerned about his daughter. How could your kid be missing for three weeks and you not care?”

“He’s been missing from her life for something like fourteen years now, and it hasn’t bothered him too much.”

“We don’t know that,” Charlie pointed out. “That’s another assumption. You’re basing your opinion on what his ex-wife said, and we both know that there are two sides to every story.”

“True. And we don’t know for certain that he hasn’t been in touch with her. I suspect he has been.”

“Your gut tell you that?”

“Yes, actually, it does.”

“Good. So does mine.”

They drove past farms that stretched from just off the side of the road to wooded areas far beyond the barns and farmhouses that looked to have been standing for at least a century. There were towns with tall, white-spired churches; houses that perched on the sides of the hills as if they’d been placed there by careful fingers; lakes where ducks gathered, with an occasional heron fishing apart from the others that kept careful eyes on their young lest they float too close to the predator in their midst. Mallory sighed. She’d grown up in one of those little towns, skated in winter on lakes just like the one they’d just passed. She didn’t miss any of it.

“Drabyak tells me you grew up around here somewhere,” Charlie said.

“Yes.”

“He didn’t mention the name of the town.”

“We passed the exit about ten minutes ago.”

“We did?” He looked surprised. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“What’s there to say?”

“You could have said,
Hey, there’s the town where I grew up.
”

“What would be the point?” She looked out the window.

“Do you still have family there?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Guess there’d be no point in asking if you want to stop on the way back and say hi.”

“Guess not.”

She stewed for a few minutes, debating with herself. Then, because she’d felt that door inside open just a little when he’d gotten in Toricelli’s face outside the diner the other day, she said, “I had an aunt and a few cousins there. They might still be there, but I don’t know for certain. We haven’t been close in years.”

“That’s all you have, an aunt and a few cousins?”

“That’s all I know about.”

He looked as if he wanted to say something, but didn’t, so she continued.

“When I was five days old, my mother took me to her sister’s house and left me there because she didn’t know what else to do with me.”

He shot a glance across the front seat as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly.

“She didn’t want me, but she’d found out too late that she was pregnant, and couldn’t get an abortion.” Mallory turned to look at him. “You hear about these young girls who deliver babies before anyone even knew they were pregnant? The girls always say,
I didn’t know
? I think they know. I think they’re just in denial. If they admit that they know they’re pregnant, they have to make some decision about what to do with the baby after it’s born and they don’t want to face that. So they pretend they don’t know, act so shocked when they go into labor. I believe my mother was like that. From everything I’ve heard about her, she was in total denial about me. Once I was born, she had to do something with me, so she took me to Aunt Jess and just left me there.”

“Left you on the front porch or what?”

“No. She made like she was coming to visit because she really didn’t have anyplace else to go. Aunt Jess let her stay for a few days. She left in the middle of the second night. She left alone.”

“And she was young, a teenager?”

“She was thirty-seven.”

His eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline, but he didn’t comment.

“Aunt Jess was married and respectable and was raising three sons. She didn’t want another child—least of all, she didn’t want me.”

“But she kept you and raised you.”

“To prove a point.”

“Which was…?”

“That she was morally superior to her sister. That she was more maternal, that she was the better person.” Mallory shrugged. “And she probably was, all things considered.”

“Did your mother ever contact you?”

“No.”

“So your aunt and uncle adopted you?”

“No. They did have themselves declared my legal guardians, but they had no interest in claiming me as their child, didn’t even give me their name. Russo is my mother’s last name. My cousins did try to treat me like a little sister, I’ll give them that, but mostly I was alone. My uncle was always indifferent, he was totally involved with the boys. I think he thought having another girl in the family would be good for my aunt, but it wasn’t. She really didn’t want me around, and never paid much attention to me unless it was to remind me that I’d have been in a foster home if she hadn’t been such a good person. She had this sort of martyr attitude toward me, you know?
Well, of course I couldn’t turn her away. After all, she is my flesh and blood.
But she never ‘mothered’ me, and for most of my childhood, I was left alone.”

“I’m so sorry,” Charlie said quietly. “I’m so sorry, Mallory. You deserved better than that.”

“Yes, I did.” She nodded.

“What about your father? Where was he?”

“I have no idea who my father was. Is.” She turned her face back to the window. “My mother was a prostitute in Atlantic City. She worked the casinos until she realized she was pregnant, had me, dumped me off on her sister, and went back to work, apparently. I’m assuming that’s what she did.”

“There’s that word again.”

“Which word is that?”

“Assume.”

When it was apparent she wasn’t going to comment, Charlie said, “Maybe something happened to her. Maybe she’s no longer alive.”

“That sounded nicer than,
Maybe she’s dead.
”

“Either way, that could be why you never heard from her.”

“Or maybe she just forgot that she ever had me. That denial thing at work again.”

“Do you know her name?”

“Of course I know her name.”

“Maybe you could…”

“No, Charlie, I could not. I do not want to look for her. I do not want to find her. Nor do I want her looking for me.”

“Okay, then.” He nodded and pointed to the exit sign. “Is this where we get off?”

“Yes. Stay to the left out of the tollbooth, then take a right after the stop sign. The next street is Casper on the left. Bauer’s house is the fifth one on the right side.”

“How do you know that?” Charlie asked as he approached the tollbooth.

“I looked it up on Magellan Express.”

“I used Google but it wasn’t that explicit as to which house.” He paid the toll and followed her directions.

“Hey, how do you think Robert Magellan made all that money?”

“Oh, that’s right. He lives outside Conroy.” Charlie came to a full stop at the sign. “The guy whose wife and baby disappeared last year. Have you ever met him? Strange case, wasn’t it? They never even found the car, right?”

“Yes, so I understand. It wasn’t my case.” She ignored his question about having met Robert. “Here’s Casper. Five houses down on the right would bring us to…Yes, that’s it. The one with the green shutters.”

“I see it.” He pulled to the side of the road and parked across the street from the house.

They sat and watched for a few minutes before the side door opened and a man’s arm could be seen holding the screen door ajar for a large black-and-white dog that bounded down the steps and loped across the yard. When the dog was out of sight, Charlie asked, “How do you want to play it?”

“Straight up.”

“I agree. Let’s do it.”

They got out of the car and crossed the street, walked directly to the front door, and rang the bell. Mallory stood closest to the door so that she would be the first person he’d see. She didn’t say it, but they both knew that a man was more likely to open a door for a strange woman than for a strange man.

“Can I help you?” The man who opened the door was dressed in denim shorts and a T-shirt and looked to be in his midforties. He had a farmer’s tan and a few extra pounds around the waist. He addressed Mallory, but Charlie answered.

“Timothy Bauer?”

“I’m Tim Bauer, yes.”

“I’m Detective Charles Wanamaker from the Conroy Police Department.” Charlie held up his badge. “We’re investigating your daughter’s disappearance, and would like a few minutes of your time.”

“’Bout time someone remembered that Courtney has a father,” Bauer said. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. “How did you find me?”

“Does it matter?” Charlie replied.

“Guess not. I suppose you want to come in.” Bauer held the door open for them. “You a detective, too?” he asked Mallory after they’d stepped inside.

“I was hired by Ryan Corcoran’s grandmother to find Ryan and Courtney.”

“So how’s that going?” he asked.

“We’re here, aren’t we? We found you.”

Bauer stared at her for a very long time, as if thinking something through very carefully. Then all the color drained from his face.

“It’s Linda, right? She hired you to track me down because of the child support thing, right?”

“I think your ex-wife has more on her mind right now than child support,” she told him. “And yes, I have spoken with Linda, but I don’t work for her.”

“So you say.” He stood in the doorway that led to the living room, blocking their entrance beyond the small foyer. “You mean to tell me you’re not going to run right back to her and tell her where I’m living so she can have me arrested?”

“Not if you tell me where Courtney is,” Mallory said.

“I wish I knew. I swear to God, I don’t know where she is or what happened to her.”

“You’re telling me you haven’t heard from her?”

“No. I mean, yes, that’s what I’m telling you.”

“How long has it been?” Mallory continued to press, and Charlie let her.

He gazed out the window, his top teeth playing with his bottom lip. “Mr. Bauer, when was the last time you spoke with your daughter?”

“The day she disappeared, I talked to her. That afternoon. She called, all upset.”

“She tell you why she was upset?”

“She said she’d gotten rejected from Penn State, but it seemed like maybe there was a little more to it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“She sounded more scared than upset. But I could be wrong, you know? I’m just getting to know her, so it’s hard for me to read her sometimes.”

“How long have you been in contact with her?” Charlie took over the questioning.

“Just since February of this year. She got my brother’s phone number in Erie and called it one afternoon. I just happened to be there, and I just happened to answer the phone. I gotta say, it shocked the shit out of me. Maybe I shouldn’t have let on it was me, since it had been so long, but I was just so surprised, I told her who I was as soon as she identified herself. We talked for quite a while that day.”

“You hadn’t been in touch with her before that?”

“No. She just sort of popped up out of the blue. Damnedest thing.”

“Did you make plans to meet?”

Bauer nodded. “Just twice. I drove down to Reading to meet her there—she took the bus in. I just couldn’t believe what a great kid she turned out to be. That was Linda, you know?” He paused for a moment. “You see Linda, you tell her I said that, okay? I know the credit is all hers. She must be one hell of a mom. Anyway, I bought Courtney a cell phone so that she could call me without her mother knowing about it.” He hastened to add, “Not that I thought it was okay for her to keep things from her mother, don’t get me wrong. It was just until I could find a way to make things right with Linda.”

“Bringing her child support up-to-date would be a good start.” Mallory couldn’t help herself. “But even then, you did walk out on her, left her with an infant and a toddler. Disappeared, never sent her a dime, never helped out in any way. Never even bothered to let her know you were alive. How do you figure you can make that right?”

“Yeah, I know.” He nodded slowly. “I thought maybe if Courtney and I were to have some type of relationship, maybe got to know each other, maybe in time, Misty would come around. And then maybe Linda and I…Oh, hell, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Did Courtney say why all of a sudden she decided to track you down?”

“Not really. I just figured she wanted to know her dad. She got interested in Penn State when I told her I was living near there. She said she’d decided she wanted to go away from Conroy for school. Even asked me if I thought she could stay with me if she went to summer school right after graduation.”

“Does Misty know that you and Courtney have been in contact?” Charlie asked.

“Uh-uh. She does not know.”

“You sound awfully sure about that,” Charlie noted.

“I am. I asked Courtney to bring Misty with her when we were making plans to meet up last month, but she said no, Misty hates me. She said she’d have to warm her up a bit to the idea. She was afraid if she told Misty right away, she’d tell her mother, then the next thing I know there’d be a couple of cops at my door because of the deadbeat-dad thing.” He stopped and looked from Mallory to Charlie and back again.

Charlie held up both hands and said, “Hey, that’s not what I’m here for. I’m trying to find a missing kid.”

“But you’re going to tell her where I am.”

“Probably.”

Mallory watched Bauer’s face. The man was trying to debate what to do. His eyes flickered in the direction of the open back door, but he made no move toward it.

“Of course, you could always step up and make some kind of arrangement to start paying what you owe,” Charlie said. “You screwed up big-time when you left, but you can start making it right.”