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White Lake

By Jody Stallings

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Chapter 1
Tuesday, October 30
Tinker Bell

“More coffee, sweetie?” Darlene said from behind the counter. Colby Borden didn’t take his eyes off the newspaper. He nodded. Darlene poured.
“Thank you,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows. “Third cup. Something’s wrong.”
“Can’t a man have a third cup of coffee without there being something wrong?”
“No,” she said. “Not you. And not the way you’ve been looking over that morning paper like it’s the Holy Bible. What’s got you on edge?” She craned her neck to see what he was reading. “Oh, it’s that girl that was abducted. Poor, sweet thing. What kind of world are we living in these days?”
“A dark one,” he said.
He sat at the center of the long counter. Not one of the dozen other customers sat near him. It was almost as if they could tell he didn’t want their company.
“Are you on the case?” she said. He shook his head. “Then why the three cups? She’s not yours, is she?”
He shook his head again. “I’ve got no family.”
“I didn’t think so,” the fifty-year-old waitress said in her raspy voice. “But there’s something different about this one, isn’t there?”
“Cases where children are hurt always affect me.”
“No, not like this. I’ve been serving you breakfast, lunch, and sometimes dinner for almost four years now. I know your habits better than you do, and I can tell there’s something wrong.”
He looked at her like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t.
She said, “Well, if you won’t fess up, at least fill me in. I only scanned the headlines this morning. Usually by the time I get off work it’s old news anyway. What happened to her?”
He took another sip of coffee. “It happened three days ago. On Halloween.”
“Halloween? Halloween’s not until tomorrow.”
“Not in her town. They go trick-or-treating on the last Saturday of October. The abduction happened early in the evening. It wasn’t even fully dark. She dressed up as Tinker Bell in one of those plastic costumes like you sell here at the drug store. She rode her bicycle to the school playground to meet with some of her friends. She never arrived. The police found her bicycle, shoes, and trick-or-treat bag in the woods near the school. There’s been no sign of her since.”
“How old is she?”
“Six. Almost seven.”
Darlene shook her head. “That family must be worried sick. Who would do such a thing to an innocent little girl?”
“I wish I knew,” he said.
“Where did this happen?”
“Ellington.”
“Ellington? That’s a sleepy little suburb about ten miles away. You live in Shadow Point. That’s forty miles in the opposite direction.” She tilted her head. “I hate it to pieces, but this kind of thing happens a lot in these last days. So if she’s not family, and she’s not part of the community, then why are you so wrapped up in it?”
He swirled a spoon in his cup. “There’s just something about it.”
“Don’t worry, sweetie,” she said with a wink. “Whatever it is can be your secret. But if you ever want to spill the beans, Darlene from the Woolworth lunch counter is just as good as a priest in a confessional.”
“You go to church, Darlene?”
“Every Wednesday night and twice on Sunday.” She picked up the plate in front of him that held a half-eaten pancake.
“Then there is something you can do for me.”
“Anything you want.”
“Pray for her,” he said.
There was a shout from the fry cook. “Colby Borden?”
“That’s me,” Colby said, raising his hand.
“Got a message for you,” the man said. “From Lt. Crowfield. Says they think they got him, and you need to get down to the police station in Bellevue right away.”
“Bellevue?” Darlene said.
“That’s the little town next to Ellington,” Colby said.
He threw down a twenty dollar bill and got up to leave.
“What about your change, sweetie?” Darlene said.
“Keep it,” he said, and he was out the door.


As Colby was rushing into the police station in the small town of Bellevue, Lt. Jeff Crowfield was coming out.
“About time!” Jeff said. “We’re just about to swarm.”
“Swarm what? Fill me in.”
“We got an anonymous phone call this morning. It said the kidnapper was staying at that orange hotel on Highway 52 coming into town.”
“The Lamplighter Inn? I just passed it. I didn’t see anything going on. What’s the delay?”
“Bellevue’s got one cop, and today’s his dialysis day,” Jeff said. “We don’t know if the kidnapper’s armed or got the kid in there or what. We’ve got to have a plan to protect ourselves, the girl, and the criminal. We want him to pay for his crimes the legal way.”
“I got you. But we’re ready now?”
“We’re ready. But, Colby, this does not involve you. Stay here until we bring them back.”
Jeff Crowfield said this with a smile on his thirty-something face. Over his mouth was a dark mustache matching his eyebrows. It was the only part of him that seemed anything less than genial.
“Jeff, you don’t understand. This case means a lot to me.”
“So you’ve told me. But you won’t tell me why.”
Colby hesitated. “Because we’ve never had a little girl this young abducted on my watch before.”
Jeff grinned. “Colby, you’re the Acting Circuit Solicitor for Andover county. You’ve been ‘on watch’ for all of about a minute and a half.”
Colby held up his hand. “Okay, look, the girl’s family are some friends of mine. But I don’t want it to get out and then have people question my objectivity.”
“Which is exactly what I’ll do if you don’t sit tight and do what a Solicitor does: wait for the police to do what we do. Got it, boss?”
Colby thrust his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. “Got it. I’ll be here. Just … please be careful.”
Jeff gestured farewell. “I’ll do my best.”


But Colby couldn’t sit tight. He had to know what was happening. He got in his car, a two-year-old black Plymouth Barracuda, and drove slowly down Highway 52 toward the Lamplighter Inn. He saw the police cars parked outside a section of rooms. He turned into the parking lot, close enough to get a better look but not so close as to be ordered off the premises. Unlike Ellington, where the abduction occurred, Bellevue was a seedy little town, and the Lamplighter Inn was a seedy motel. With its run-down façade, empty pool, and vacant parking lot, it almost looked out of business.
While he sat watching, a woman strolled up beside him.
“Hey, good looking,” she said through his open window. “If you were thinking about getting a room, you might be able to get a discount today.”
He didn’t look at her. He simply nodded and kept an eye on the room with the open door. It appeared to be room 108. He was waiting for someone to carry Sadie out or for the kidnapper to be led out in handcuffs.
“What’s going on?” he said. “Do you know?”
“Why would I know anything?” she said.
“I don’t know, but you do. Your answer is one that only a person who knew something would give.”
“Another smart one,” she said through a gum-chewing smile. “We got ‘em in spades around here. Well, honey, let’s just say if I do know something, I ain’t telling. That ain’t my way.”
“Are you staying in this hotel?”
“I used to.”
“Whose room is that?” Colby said. The woman was silent. “Oh, come on. I’m not a cop. I’m not going to tell anyone.”
“Well, who are you? Other than being nosy, good lookin’, and out of place in this neighborhood?”
“I’m just passing through,” he said. “I was reading in the paper this morning about the kidnapping of that little girl, and I wondered if this might have something to do with it.”
“Shoot,” the woman said, “not hardly. The person who stays in that room happens to be a good friend of mine. Wouldn’t hurt a flea. Of which there are quite a few in this motel, and they all escaped unharmed.” She laughed loudly while Colby gave a polite chuckle. She held out her hand. “My name’s Candy.”
Colby shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Colby.”
“Ha! Look at that.” She pointed to a side street. “Halloween’s not ‘til tomorrow and some kid’s already got on her Halloween mask.”
“Where?” Colby said, suddenly attentive.
“Over there,” she pointed. “Looks like Tinker Bell.”
Colby immediately gassed the engine, screeching tires on the pavement. He tore out of the parking lot as the woman looked on in amazement.
He sped across the road and down the side street where the girl in the Tinker Bell mask was walking. He pulled up behind her, threw the car into park, and got out.
“Sadie!” he yelled. “Sadie!”
The little girl turned around. He saw the plastic face of Tinker Bell. He ran to her and pulled off the mask. Behind it was a wide-eyed girl at least two years older than Sadie. She was frozen in fear.
“I’m sorry,” he said, awkwardly patting the girl on the back. “I thought you were someone else.” He handed her back the mask. “May I ask where you got that?”
The little girl said nothing, but she pointed to the IGA grocery store on the corner.
“Thank you,” Colby said. “I’m very sorry if I scared you.” In a fog, he paced back to his car and drove to the Bellevue police station.
A half-hour later, a young officer came in.
“I was told to tell you there was a change of plans,” he said to Colby. “They’re taking the kidnapper to Andover.”
Andover was one of the largest cities in the southeast region of South Carolina and the largest in the county. It was where Colby worked.
“Did they get the girl?” Colby said. The officer shook his head sadly. “What can you tell me?”
“I honestly don’t know, sir,” the officer said. “I just know they found the kidnapper and nobody else.”


For nearly an hour, Colby waited in Jeff Crowfield’s office at county police headquarters in Andover. He used the detective’s phone to call back to his own office, trying to keep his mind off of what could be happening. Just as he hung up with one of his assistants, Jeff appeared at the door.
“Well?” Colby said, standing.
“We didn’t find the girl,” Jeff said. “We searched the hotel room but didn’t find any clues.”
“Do you think she’s alive?”
Jeff shrugged. “I wish I knew.”
“Has he said anything?”
Jeff cocked his head. “Not a ‘he.’ A ‘she.’”
“It’s a woman?”
“Very much so. And it gets weirder. Follow me.” They walked down the hall toward the interrogation rooms. “She says she’s not saying a word unless she talks to you.”
“Me?” Colby said.
“And I don’t mean the Circuit Solicitor. I mean you: Colby Borden. She called you by name.”
A chill ran down Colby’s spine. “What’s she like?”
“White. Young – about your age, give or take a couple of years. Looong curly brown hair. Glasses. Very attractive. And perfectly calm. She didn’t seem at all surprised to see us there. Weber thinks she probably made the call herself. I’m not convinced she’s who we want, Colby. She’s probably just an attention seeker.”
“I hope she isn’t,” Colby said.
He opened the door to Interrogation Room 1.

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