Cemetery Girl

A fresh bouquet lay at the base of the stone, below Caitlin’s name and dates. It looked like the kind from the grocery store, fresh-cut flowers wrapped in cheap and crinkly cellophane.

I hadn’t been back to the cemetery since the first day I saw the girl, a few weeks earlier. I didn’t know if Abby was visiting the plot. I imagined she would-Abby on her knees at the headstone, her hand reaching out to brush away a stray leaf or spiderweb, then bowing her head in prayer or reflection. She might even bring Pastor Chris with her, a spiritual companion to share her journey of grief. I shook my head, allowed myself a little moment of I-told-you-so triumph. I’d been right. Caitlin was still alive. She’d come back. No need to turn the page or move on.

There was a piece of scrap paper affixed to the cellophane with a paper clip, a note written in pen, a scrawled, scratchy handwriting. Not a child’s writing, and not a woman’s either. I could read the note without bending over.

Good-bye, it said. Don’t come back.

My knees felt jittery, like they were full of sand.

I grabbed the bouquet and brought it with me to the car.

I returned home just before nine o’clock. Ryan and Abby were in the kitchen. They sat at the table, sipping coffee. I carried the bouquet.

“I found these,” I said. “At the cemetery.”

They didn’t say anything, but I could tell they didn’t get it.

“At Caitlin’s headstone,” I said. “There’s a note. Somebody left a note for her.”

Ryan came out of his chair.

“Put it down,” he said. “Put it down.”

I laid it on the counter.

“Did you touch the note?” he asked.

“No. It’s still there.”

He put his glasses on and read the note. “Do you know the handwriting?” he asked.

“No.”

“Abby,” Ryan said, “will you get me a ziplock bag, one of the large ones for the freezer?”

Ryan carefully picked the note up by its corners, his fat, sau-sagey fingers looking almost delicate, and dropped it into the bag Abby was holding open. He sealed it with a quick motion of his thumb. “It’s unlikely there will be any prints, but we can try.”

“Who is that note for?” Abby asked “Is it for her? Or us?”

“It might be a joke,” Ryan said. “Some sort of hoax.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Earlier, when Caitlin was asleep, I looked in on her. She was saying something in her sleep. She said, ‘Don’t send me back. Don’t send me back.’ At first I thought she was talking about us, that she thought we were going to send her back to wherever she came from. But the way she said it. . I don’t know.”

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions,” Ryan said. “I’m going to take this with me. And I’ll call as soon as I hear anything. Just hang in there.”

“I guess we know all about that,” Abby said.

“Ryan,” I said. “My brother, Buster.”

“Abby mentioned-”

“He was here, right before. I think. .”

I didn’t know what I thought. Not really.

“We’re looking into everything,” he said. “But no promises, no guarantees.”

And that’s the way he left us, waiting for our daughter again.

Chapter Twenty-six

I fell asleep in a living room chair. Someone knocked on the front door and it took a moment for the cobwebs to clear, for the events of the day to reappear in my mind. Caitlin at the police station, the hospital, back home. Then Caitlin out the window, into the night, the cemetery, the note. .

They knocked again.

“Tom?”

Abby’s voice reached me from upstairs.

“Tom, it’s the police. I’m getting dressed.”

I went to the door and opened it. Ryan stood there in the porch light. He looked haggard, unshaven. I feared the worst. They found her, but she was dead, and Ryan was here to bring me the bad news.

“Is she. .?”

“She’s in the car,” he said. “We got her.”

Abby appeared beside me, and then we both moved out of the way, letting Ryan in. I gestured toward a chair, but he shook his head.

“I have to get home,” he said. “This won’t take long.”

“Is she in trouble?” Abby asked. “Did she do something?”

“No, we found her north of downtown, not far from the police station actually. She was walking, but we’re not sure where. There isn’t much out there really.”

“Thank you for bringing her back,” Abby said.

“Is there something we need to sign?” I asked. “A report or something?”

Ryan shook his head. “No need.” He didn’t make a move to leave or sit down. “I know how difficult this is, and that the two of you have been kind of thrown into the deep end here,” he finally said. “This is a huge adjustment for both of you. I’ll help in any way I can, but. .”

“What are you saying?” Abby asked.

“It can start to get dicey when man power is being diverted in this way. If the media finds out, it becomes a spectacle. And you and Caitlin don’t need that right now. Let’s just utilize the resources we have at our disposal. We’re in a critical stage with Caitlin, and we all have to be on alert. Especially the two of you. You’re on the front line here.”

“Of course,” Abby said.

“Who was she with?” I asked.

“No one,” Ryan said. “She was alone.” He looked me in the eye. “We never got ahold of your brother.”