What happened?
Nobody in town really knew. One day we saw the ambulance and the Mountie cars out at the place. Later, it got around that their baby had died. My mom figured it was SIDS or some sickness. Then my dad said there was a rumor that Barton had dropped her. But no one knew the truth.
How long ago was that?
Oh, that was over twenty-two, twenty-three years, back. Anyway, they both took it hard, as you can imagine. People saw even less of them. It was like Barton and Fiona were haunted by it. Then two or three years later, they started coming to church with Tara Dawn, who was about five or six. At first people thought she was a niece who was visiting. Then it got around that Tara Dawn was their adopted daughter.
Kate showed Sheri a picture of Vanessa on her cell phone.
Did she look like that?
Sheri studied the photo for a few seconds.
It was a long time ago, but Id say she looked a lot like that.
Tell me more about her.
Eventually, wed heard that Tara was adopted from a distant relative in the United States and that was that. Not too long after, my mom said that Fiona asked if I would babysit occasionally. It didnt happen often, but sometimes Barton and Fiona would go to Hanna, or Medicine Hat, for some deal on a tractor, or something. I dont know why they didnt take Tara with them, but I liked watching her.
What was she like?
Very quiet, shy. I remember one time I tried asking her about where she used to live, what had happened, and all she did was cry. I gave her a hug then we went to the barn to play with the kittens. That cheered her up. But I felt so bad I never asked her about that kind of thing again, because she didnt want to talk about it. Some days I would look across the field from our place and see Tara playing by herself with her dog. She looked lonely but she seemed happy. She always smiled at me and said hi if I saw her with Fiona in the store.
Then, a few years later, she was stolen away at the truck stop. Oh, it was horrible. The whole town was shocked. I never saw so many police cars. They had dogs, helicopters, searchers, roadblocks. It was in all the news. People prayed in the churches for a miracle, for a happy ending. Reporters came from everywhere. It was a big story, but as time went by, things seemed to slow down and it wasnt in the news as much.
Barton and Fiona were devastated. Nobody saw themthey stopped coming to church. They were like ghosts. About a year after Tara Dawn went missing, Bartons tractor rolled on him. He was in a coma for a week before he died. A year or so after that, two women from the church went to check on Fiona and found her dead in her bedroom. Shed overdosed on sleeping pills.
Eileen passed tissues to Sheri, who dabbed her eyes.
There were some anniversary stories about Tara Dawns disappearance, but her story faded until it was practically forgotten. Of course, the place went up for sale, Sheri said.
We knew the history, Norbert said. So did a lot of other people, but they werent interested, so we bought at a good price and parceled some of the land to rent.
Eileen looked pensively out the window at the expanse of flat land. Every morning when I get up I say a little prayer to their memory. She turned back to Kate. We can show you Taras room, if you like?
Kate gripped the banister and the stairs creaked as she climbed them behind Eileen, with Sheri and Norbert behind them. A double bed and mirrored dresser took up most of the room, which smelled of pine and moth balls. White-on-white-striped paper covered the walls.
A curtained window opened to the eternal sky.
Kate traced her fingers along the frame envisioning Tara Dawn-or Vanessa-standing in this very spot searching the horizon.
So alone.
We use it as a guest room when our son and his kids come to visit, Eileen said. I redid the walls, and the furniture is ours. Im sorry, theres nothing here from the Maes. It all got auctioned.
As Kates eyes swept the room, Norbert, who was leaning against the doorway, stood as if a memory had prodded him to attention.
Wait, we still got those trunks from Doug Cloviss son.
What trunks?
Last year, Eileen. You were in Calgary that day. Norbert turned to Kate. Doug Clovis sold his auction business and his son found two trunks in their warehouse left over from the Mae auction. They were supposed to go to charity but they dropped them here. I said, might as well leave them here. Our son could go through them first. Norbert pointed somewhere with his pipe. Theyre in the barn if you want to look.
The barn was a rusting metal Quonset hut some distance behind the house. The old building had been subdivided into pens and stalls that had once been used for livestock.
We dont keep any animals. We use it for storage, Norbert said.
The air was still strong, stale and musty. Dust swirled in the light, shooting through the line of ceiling vents. They went to an area holding a small tractor, wheelbarrows and other equipment. Norbert pulled back a heavy canvas tarp, sending dust mites spinning as he revealed two time-worn, flat-top steamer trunks. They were dark green with leather handles and hinges that creaked as he opened them.
Each trunk was jammed with clothes, cardboard boxes and various items. Kate, Eileen and Sheri sifted through plaid work shirts, jeans, socks, womens clothes, underwear, coats, boots, shoes, hats, scarves, gloves and mittens.
Eileen covered her mouth with her hand when she found baby items, bibs, shoes, little jumpers.
They came across plates wrapped in newspapers, a tea set, a lamp, candleholders and a clock.
What exactly are we looking for? Sheri held up a framed picture of a tropical sunset.
I dont know. Kate set aside a shoe box of papers, mostly invoices. Adoption records, any evidence that might connect Tara to my sister.
Look. Eileen held up a photo album, opened it and pointed to a color photo of a woman with a baby. Me and Charlotte was written under it.
Thats Fiona with her baby daughter, Sheri said.
The album pages crackled as Eileen turned to more photos: Barton next to his tractor, Barton fixing a truck, Barton laughing with Charlotte on his knee.
Those pictures were followed by album pages of nothing. Eileen kept flipping the crackling pages until new photos appeared. Our Miracle, Tara Dawn was written under the first picture.
Kate felt the air rush from her gut.
She spasmed as a cadenza of sound shrieked through her mind, burning across years of loss, years of guilt, years of senseless hopes and prayers. Years of never believing, yet refusing to not believe; years of battling every reason to abandon the irrational, unable to let go.
Are you all right, Kate? Eileen touched her shoulder.
Thats my sister, Vanessa!
Youre sure? Eileen passed the album to her so she could take a closer look.
Yes! Kate flipped pages, her voice breaking. I dont understand how she couldve got here. Kate came to a shot of girl showing a timid smile. She was wearing a necklace.
Tenderly Kate ran her fingertips over the picture.
I found you! I found you!
Fighting her tears, her hand shaking, Kate reached for her phone and quickly cued up a photograph of her necklace, the matching one shed shared with Detective Brennan in Rampart.
See, it has the same guardian angel charm, see? Its the necklace our mother gave to each of us!
Oh, my God, it is! Sheri said.
This is a helluva thing! Norbert was shaking his head. Just a helluva thing!
At that moment the light on Kates phone flashed and it rang.
Kate Page.
Hi, Kate, this is Carmen Pearson in Calgary. Im a private investigator. I do volunteer work for the Childrens Searchlight Network. They gave me your number.
Oh, yes.
Fred Byfield said I should call you directly if I came across anything that might help you in Alberta.
Yes, okay.
Ive located Elliott Searle and hes agreed to talk to you about Tara Dawn Maes case.
Elliott Searle? Whos he?
Sheris eyes widened with recognition as Carmen answered, Hes a retired RCMP inspector. Kate, hes the Mountie who headed the investigation into Tara Dawns disappearance.
18
Bragg Creek, Alberta
Is Vanessa alive?
It was one of a million questions Kate agonized over while driving to meet the retired officer whod run the investigation into Tara Dawns disappearance.
Maybe Im wrong?
Maybe Im giving too much credence to coincidences and resemblances? Maybe Ive become blind to reason over the years?
Kate found the Sweet Pines Café, a small log building in Bragg Creek, a postcard-perfect community at Calgarys southwestern edge, tucked in the thick forests in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains.
Retired inspector Elliott Searle was right where he said hed be: in a corner booth reading a newspaper.
Inspector Searle?
Yes. He stood.
Kate Page. Thanks for meeting me, sir.
Call me Elliott. Its no problem. He shook her hand. Have a seat.
He was an imposing figure in faded jeans and a navy shirt that accentuated his short, silver-white hair and piercing eyes. He had a gravelly voice befitting a capable man accustomed to being in charge.
I work with missing persons groups, Elliott said. They told me about your case. Im aware of the current activity and your involvement. Police circles are tight, Kate, and no cop would do anything to damage a case. Im sure you already know that.
Im well aware.
They both ordered coffee. Before it came, Kate got to the point.
I think Tara Dawn Mae is my sister.
The old Mounties poker face betrayed nothing as Kate related the whole story. She reached into her bag and pulled out the Mae family albums, which the Ingrams insisted she have. She flipped through the photographs, then showed Elliott pictures of the necklace as she raised question after question about her crash in BC, Tara Dawn and the case in Upstate New York.
The adoption records were incomplete, Elliott said.
Incomplete? I dont understand.
Before our meeting I reviewed my personal notes to refresh my memory. When Tara Dawn vanished, part of our investigation was to examine the family history, their background. Thats when we found that the adoption records were incomplete. The Maes had said a distant relative, a cousin, who was a heroin addict and had been charged in a robbery and was jailed in South Dakota, was Tara Dawns mother. She lost custody of the girl and begged social services to give her to a family member.