Unintended Consequences - By Marti Green Page 0,14

his face.

Decorators would have considered their living room a nightmare. No unifying style, no coordination of fabrics and color, just a hodgepodge of pieces they’d picked up over the years. Dani called it “comfy style.” Their cushioned burgundy couch, deep enough for her and Doug to lie entwined in each other’s arms. Two armchairs, on their third set of slipcovers. A water-marked maple coffee table Dani had picked up at a garage sale. An oval braided rug in front of the fireplace in a rainbow of colors, frayed at the edges.

The sounds of early cicadas outside the window mixed with the crackling of the burning wood and imbued her with a sense of deep contentment. Their lives had turned out differently from what they’d planned, but they were happy. They were a family.

CHAPTER

5

Thirty-Five Days

As the announcement came of Flight 84’s imminent boarding, Dani glanced nervously down the expansive corridor hoping to see Tommy. Melanie sat next to her, their carry-on bags at their sides. “Damn, he’d better get here soon,” Dani said.

LaGuardia Airport was crowded with business travelers, laptops by their sides and cell phones at their ears. Dani didn’t travel often, usually for just a few days to argue an appeal now and then, and still needed to suppress a sense of dread when the airplane taxied down the runway and began to rise seamlessly into the atmosphere.

“There he is,” Melanie said as she tapped Dani’s arm and pointed to a man running toward their gate.

“Well, he certainly played it close.” Dani barely contained her annoyance. Every moment counted with an execution so near, and she couldn’t have members of her team treating responsibilities casually. Showing up late was not an option.

“Sorry,” Tommy said as he reached their seats. “I got a call from a pal at the Bureau just as I was ready to leave. He had some info for me on missing girls.”

Now Dani felt embarrassed to have judged Tommy so quickly. She should have known better. “What’d he say?”

Before Tommy could answer, a crackled voice announced over the loudspeaker, “Those passengers seated in rows 30 and higher may begin boarding now.” A mass of bodies rose from their seats and headed to the gate, far more than the few invited to board first. A line quickly formed just behind the gate, giving minimal clearance for those ready to hand over their boarding passes. Despite having assigned seats, it seemed everyone wanted to be first on the airplane.

“I have it written down. It’s in here,” Tommy said as he patted his briefcase. “I’ll fill you in on the plane.”

The plane was only half-full and they spread out. With his notebook open on his lap, Tommy leaned across the aisle to speak to the women. “There are five cases of girls between the ages of 3 and 5 reported missing during the two years prior to the body being found in Indiana. In two of them, the parents were divorced, the mother had custody, and the father disappeared at the same time as the child. It’s presumed those children are alive and with the father somewhere. Two other children were recovered.”

“What about the fifth?” Dani asked.

“A 3½-year-old girl—her name is Stacy Conklin—is still officially missing. Now here’s the interesting thing: Stacy was reported missing two months before the little girl’s body was found in the woods.”

“Where was she reported missing from?”

“Another interesting point. She lived in Hammond, Illinois, just over the Indiana border, and right near Route 80. It’s maybe four hours from where the body was found.”

Dani shook her head. “If Stacy was reported missing so close to the discovery of the body in the woods, why didn’t the police suspect it could be her?”

“They did. Well, not immediately, but eventually. Remember, this crime happened over nineteen years ago. They didn’t have the computer database we have now. And it was another state. But soon enough they matched the age and gender to Stacy Conklin and they brought in her parents.”

“And?”

“And the parents said it wasn’t their daughter. Her face was too badly burned to identify, but supposedly they could tell by the shape of her body. Too skinny for their daughter, too small. The police checked the parents out anyway and cleared both. Loving and devoted, never hit their child, pillars of the community, yadda yadda yadda.”

“Is it possible? Could it be true that George Calhoun’s daughter is still alive?” Dani tried to stop herself from getting caught up in the excitement of her client’s possible