One Last Fight Page 2

  “I suppose you’re right. They have no idea where she is, do they?”

  “If they do, they’re not saying anything.”

  I say, “As soon as the baby’s done eating, we can leave.”

  “I’ll ask Mom and Sue to watch her. I don’t want to take her over there with us,” he says, walking out of the room.

  Me, either.

  Chelsea Sinclair

  The police have been in and out of the house all morning. Drake has been in his office with our attorney, Mr. Reed, and his team of investigators. Drake’s Dad, Steve, took Caden to his house and away from this madness. I walk through the house alone before I sit in Madison’s room and cry.

  We spoke with the police, and I’m not sure they believe us when we said she was taken. I feel like people are looking at us like we have her. Even Bobby Grether thinks we took her. I have to wonder if Bobby had something to do with her disappearance. No, that’s ridiculous. My mind doesn’t know what to think anymore.

  I lie down on Madison’s bed and stare at the window. Someone came in through that window last night and took my little girl. Madison didn’t scream. Was she drugged? Did she know who took her? She likes Leah, so could Leah have taken her? I beg for my mind to stop thinking these crazy thoughts. I’m becoming paranoid, and I don’t like it.

  I called Bobby to see if he and Leah would come over. I have to get him to believe that we don’t have her. If he sees we had nothing to do with her disappearance, maybe then he’ll join Drake in his search for her. Or if he has her, maybe he’ll slip up and say something incriminating. Do I really believe he took her? Is it possible that Drake has her? No, Drake would never let me hurt like this. He would have told me. We would all be on a private jet flying to a safe haven. Someplace that is secretive, private, and hidden far, far away. Someplace where we can’t be bothered or fear that the courts will place Madison in someone else’s custody. Drake would never break my heart and let me think something so horrible could have happened to our daughter. Would he?

  Bobby said that he and Leah would come. I should have made tea and crumpets, but I can barely move. I don’t think I’m capable of pouring tea, let alone making it. I stare out the window at the tent of volunteers organizing a search for Madison. I wanted to help but was told to stay in the house and wait. Wait for what? A call for ransom?

  Robert

  When we pulled into the subdivision the Sinclairs live in, we see pink and white balloons tied to houses, mailboxes, and trees. Leah cries and I know I don’t have to explain what they represent. It is a show of support for Madison. Adults and children are walking the neighborhood, talking to their neighbors and passing out fliers. We slowly pull into the driveway of Chelsea and Drake’s house. The blue and white tent is still up with several people standing beneath it.

  It looks like a command post for volunteers involved in the search for Madison. Leah stares out the window as she continues to cry. I know she wants to be strong and I also know how hard it is. If Drake doesn’t have Madison, and I hope he does, it’s hard to think positively. My mind replays all of the missing children’s cases that have been publicized in the state of Florida, and I can’t recall one where the child was returned unharmed.

  I help Leah out of the car and we wander up to the front door. Leah concentrates on the activities under the tent. I ring the doorbell with my arm wrapped around Leah. Chelsea quickly answers, and she looks incredibly heartbroken. Leah and Chelsea hug at the door. It’s not because they know each other, but because they are sharing the same loss, the same heart-wrenching sad pain you feel when you lose a child.

  “I’m sorry,” Chelsea says. “Please, come in.”

  I follow them into the house and close the large double doors behind me. The house is solemn and quiet. No radio, no television, no noise in the background.

  “Chelsea, who was at the door?” Drake asks as he enters the foyer. “Bobby, what in the hell are you doing here?” he asks as he walks closer to us.

  I stand in front of Leah, and Chelsea says, “Drake, don’t. I invited them here.”

  “And why did you do that?” he yells.

  “Because you guys are feuding for nothing. The more people we have to search for Madison, the sooner we can bring her home.”

  Drake is now standing closer to Chelsea. His clothes are wrinkled and he looks tired. “Chelsea, are you forgetting he accused us of taking our daughter?”

  “Our daughter,” I clarify.

  We all sit down and Chelsea explains that they put Madison and her brother, Caden, to bed last night around 9:00 p.m. She says that they always read to the children together, and then they end up carrying them to their children’s own beds. She adds that last night she and Drake watched the news and then checked on both kids before turning in for the night. “When Drake woke up this morning for work, he checked on both of the kids and Madison’s bed was empty.”

  “What time did you wake up?” I ask Drake.

  “About 4:30 a.m. My day starts very early and it usually ends late. I had an early meeting this morning and I wanted to be at the office early enough to prepare for it. I didn’t take her. I wish I had, but I’m obviously not that smart of a man.” Drake looks from Chelsea to me. “Now you, Bobby. You seem like a very intelligent man.” Drake leans up in his chair and interlocks his fingers together.

  I know he is accusing me of taking Madison. I sit on the edge of the couch and wipe my hands up and down my jeans. “I am,” I say, smugly.

  Leah interrupts and says, “Stop it, Robert!” She looks at me and I can see the disappointment in her eyes from my behavior. “Drake, we don’t know where she is. We were hoping to get custody of her, but we would never kidnap her. She doesn’t know us. We would never just come in here and take her. We lost a daughter, and sadly, we know all too well the pain of losing a child.” A sob escapes Leah’s mouth and I hold her.

  Chelsea cries and Drake says, “The police are looking for her. An Amber Alert is telling Floridians to watch for her. I called the National Center for Missing and Exploited children, and she’s been entered into the N.C.I.C. — National Crime Information Center — for missing persons. The neighbors set up a volunteer search party; it’s the big tent outside the house. They are making fliers, and going door to door asking if Madison has been seen. They are even passing out balloons for our neighbors to show their support.” Drake sits back in the chair and runs his hands through his hair. “Everything that can be done is being done. The police had bloodhounds here this morning before the sun came up, searching for her. We have a private investigative team in my office working nonstop to find her.”

  Chelsea cries and says, “The first forty-eight hours are the most crucial in finding her...” She doesn’t say the last word. She doesn’t have to.

  “What can we do to help?” Leah asks through a sob.

  Drake says, “I have no idea. Cooperate with the police. What can you do? What can any of us do?”

  Someone comes out of the office and signals to Drake. He’s an older man with a head full of gray hair. “I need to go and hopefully I won’t be long,” Drake says as he stands up to leave.

  Leah says, “Drake, I have to ask you something.” She doesn’t wait for him to answer but asks, “Why would you flatten Robert’s tire at the hospital?”

  Drake looks confused. He looks at Chelsea, who is now frowning before he looks at Leah. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He looks over the couch and nods to the man waiting for him. “I’ll be right there,” he says dismissing the older man. He turns to re-enter the office.

  “Robert was at the hospital visiting our newborn baby and he said he saw you before leaving. When he went to his car, there was a knife in the tire. Why would you have done that?”

  “Leah,” he says looking at her. “I remember that night. I was there visiting a friend. If someone flattened his tire, rest assured that it wasn’t me. Please, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go.” Drake looks to Che
lsea and says, “I’ll be in the office if you need me. I’ll try and not be long.”

  Leah and I don’t stay long. Someone comes to the door with a casserole and drinks for the Sinclairs. Chelsea politely introduces us as Madison’s other parents. Leah and I say our goodbyes and leave.

  “Can we stop by the tent?” Leah asks. “I want to maybe get some fliers and post them around town.”

  “That’s a good idea. Maybe there is something we can do to assist with the search and rescue.” I hold Leah’s hand as we walk up the paved driveway. I’m surprised that no newspaper reporters or media crews are lurking around. Leah and I walk under the blue and white tent. The first thing I notice is the phone lines that have been set up. Lines of communication for what? From whom? Leah speaks to the woman about getting some fliers to pass out. The woman takes Leah’s name, phone number, and address.

  When the woman asks if Leah is a family member, Leah doesn’t say anything. “Ma’am, are you a family member or friend?”

  I take a step forward to the woman and say, “We’re Madison’s biological family.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

  “May we take some fliers with us, please?”

  “Oh yes, certainly. We’re just trying to keep track of all of the volunteers. We can’t be too careful.”

  “We understand,” I say, taking a small stack of fliers from her. “Thank you.”

  Leah

  Robert and I walk away from the tent and I say, “I didn’t know what to say to her when she asked if we were Madison’s family.”

  “That’s all right, Leah. We are her family although maybe it doesn’t feel like it. He opens the car door for me and says, “As soon as we get her back, we can start making our own family memories with her.”

  I watch as he shuts my door and walks in front of the Hummer to the driver’s side door. He gets in and before we leave, he calls Bruce to see if we can meet him at his office. Robert cautiously pulls out of the driveway and asks, “Do you want to go and see Bruce with me, or would you rather go home?”

  “Maybe I should go home. I feel like there’s something I should be doing, but I don’t know what.”

  “I know what you mean. I feel like I’m lost. I’m hoping to get some guidance or something from Bruce. This, thank God, is foreign to me,” he admits.

  “You go and see Bruce and I’ll go home and try to come up with a game plan with our parents. You no longer feel that Drake is involved with Madison’s disappearance, do you?”

  “I did. I wanted to. But no, I don’t feel that he had anything to do with it.” He looks sad and says, “Leah?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to do everything in my power to find her.”

  “I know.”

  Robert takes me home and his dad and my dad go with him to meet Bruce at his office on Longboat Key. I hand him some fliers and ask him to stop and make some more and to leave some with Bruce. Maybe he can pass them out on his way home from work. I think we all feel like we need to be doing something. But what?

  I show Mom and Margie the fliers that the volunteers made to help with the search of Madison. I feed Gracie and talk to them about ways we can help. We brainstorm the best ways for us to bring her home. To all of us.

  My cell phone rings and Mom stands to answer it. “It’s Molly,” she says.

  “Would you tell her I’ll call her back?”

  “Sure.”

  Margie says, “She must have heard about Madison.”

  “I didn’t think to call anyone to tell them,” I say.

  “I wouldn’t have expected you to. People have been calling all day.”

  “Like who?” Up until very recently, Robert and I haven’t had many friends. We have always been loners, enjoying our time with Jamie. We didn’t have time for much of anything else. Then after Jamie’s death, we were consumed with grief.

  “Bethany, Jo, and Dove. Some regulars at the shop also called.”

  “I guess I should have called them.” I put Gracie up on my shoulder to burp her and I kiss her soft cheek.

  Margie smiles and says, “They just wanted you to know they are thinking of you and if you need them, they are here for you.”

  Mom walks back into the room and says, “Molly and Adam want everyone to stop by the church when Robert, Walter, and Tim get home.”

  “Did she say why?” I ask.

  “She didn’t and I didn’t ask. I did notice some commotion in the background.”

  “They are probably planning on another fundraiser for the missionary.”

  I put the baby to bed and sit at the dining room table with the fliers spread out in front of me. My eyes fill with tears as I stare at the flier with Madison’s picture on it. This is real. This is actually happening. I’m not a violent person, but I think I could hurt the person who took her. I can feel my inner strength coming out and I welcome it. I can see and feel the black cloud of depression looming nearby, but it’s at a distance. It knows not to mess with me today.

  “We made you some hot tea and soup, Leah. You need to eat something,” Mom says, placing the homemade chicken noodle soup and tea down on the table.

  “Thank you.”

  We all sit at the table and eat. We kept the television and radio off today at Dad’s insistence. He said if there was anything worth updating that the police would call us. I know he’s right, but I just wish we knew something. Television and radio news programs tend to repeat the same information over and over.

  “I think when we leave the church, we all should separate and start passing out these fliers,” Margie says, picking up a small stack of them. “I also think we’ll need to get some more made up.”

  “I agree,” I say. “There doesn’t look like many are here, maybe fifty or so. I asked Robert to make some copies while he’s out.”

  “Good, because these won’t be enough. We can pass them out in each of our neighborhoods.” Margie adds, “Any little bit will help.”

  We all clean up and I pack the diaper bag for Gracie. I think meeting Molly and Adam at the church is a good idea. I could stand to be close to God today. I believe he can hear me no matter where I am, but there’s just something about being in the house of the Lord.

  Robert, Dad, and Walter show up and we each drive separate cars to the church. Robert tells me that Bruce contacted the hospital to see if he can view the security tapes from the night someone flattened his tire.

  “Do you think since it’s not Drake, that maybe it was one of your sparring partners?” I ask.

  “I have no idea who would have done that. I don’t think it’s a sparring partner. We are all there for the same reasons and that’s to train and become better fighters.”

  “Maybe it’s a kid playing a prank.”

  “Maybe.”

  Robert

  We pull up at the church parking lot and it’s full. Cars are even parked in the grassy area. I look at the sign on the board to see if tonight’s when they have the Addicts Anonymous meeting. It’s not. I get Gracie from her car seat and follow everyone into the basement area of the church. The doors are propped open, inviting everyone inside. I know this place all too well. When I survived my drug overdose, this is where I attended my drug and alcohol classes. And this is where Molly met the man of her dreams. Adam is a reformed drug user turned preacher with the help of his father and family. He is also in charge of the Addicts Anonymous meetings twice a week. He speaks from the heart and from experience. It’s a winning combination for any motivational speaker.

  I hold Gracie close to me as we enter the church. She’s still small and I’m worried about her immune system not being fully developed. This time next year she will be eating boogers and eating off the floor. A few germs today probably won’t hurt her. It might even help her immune system develop faster.

  We walk into the church, which is full of people, tables, pink and white balloons, and fliers of our Madison. The church has been transformed into a search comm
and center for Madison. Leah, Sue, and Mom cry. I look at Dad and Tim and their eyes are misty.

  “Robert, look,” Leah says.

  “I see it.” I look around the room and all of our friends are here with their spouses. I also see a few police officers manning the telephone lines. The phone rings and the person who answers it starts jotting down information. I see a few computers set up along the back wall that are new to the room.

  “They’re here,” someone yells.

  Molly and Adam walk over to us. They look tired. Molly hugs everyone and Adam shakes the guys’ hands and hugs the girls. The rest of our friends also join us. They tell us instead of them using the tent outside of the Sinclairs’ residence, Adam offered them the use of the church instead.

  “I can’t believe you did this,” Leah cries.

  “I didn’t, we all did,” Molly says, waving her hand around the room at everyone.

  “This is incredible. This is the command center for the search for Madison?”

  “The one and only. We have police officers posted here to monitor the calls and decide which calls are real and which ones are a hoax. This isn’t everyone; we have groups of people out posting fliers at the malls, stores, and shopping centers,” Molly says.

  Adam adds, “We have volunteers going door to door speaking with people to see if they’ve seen Madison. If Madison is in Bradenton, Florida, we’ll find her.”

  “Where did you find all of the volunteers?” I ask.

  Adam says, “People from the church, people from the meetings, friends of friends, family. Once word got out, it spread like crazy. People started to bring in donations of food, supplies, paper, pens, and balloons. You name it, and someone brought it.”

  I pat the baby on the back and look at Carl, Mason, Alec, Brice, Gus, Kyle, Vincent, and Donovan. “Thank you. I really don’t have the words to express what this means to me… to us.” I clear my throat and say, “Leah and I have never had friends like you guys before. Thank you.”

  No one says anything, but they each take turns, along with their spouses, hugging me and then Leah. I see Bruce and his wife, Lilly, walk in. They walk to the front of the room and turn in some fliers. “Did your mom and dad pass out fliers?” I ask Mason.