Page 91 of Girl in the Water
The Heyerdahls worked and lived at See-Love-Aid. Most likely the kidnapper would have first noticed them somewhere around here. That meant that the kidnapper lived somewhere around here.
Daniela wasn’t sure what she was looking for. But she did look at every baby she spotted. Even the ones who weren’t blond. Hair could be colored. She was pretty sure she would recognize baby Lila. And if she needed a reminder of the little girl’s face, all she needed to do was look at one of the MISSING CHILD posters that seemed to be everywhere.
She didn’t see Ian until that evening, back in their room.
Her bus trip netted nothing, but she told him what she’d learned from Fernanda and Gabriela about visiting boyfriends.
“So people we didn’t previously know about do sometimes go upstairs,” she said. “Except, there’s no passage between the girls’ dorms and the staff housing, not with that door always locked. The key had been at the ER with Mrs. Frieseke. So I don’t think a boy sneaking in could have taken the baby.”
Ian watched her thoughtfully. He’d already taken his shower. Water glistened in his hair. His clean T-shirt clung to his wet skin, outlining his muscles. “But if boys sneak up to the girls,” he said, “it’s possible that a man might sneak up to one of the female staff in the adult dorms.”
She lifted her gaze to his eyes. “It’s possible.”
“So maybe somebody has a boyfriend on the outside. A boyfriend she’s hiding from the others for some reason.”
“Or,” Daniela added, “someone has a girlfriend that he’s hiding.”
“First thing tomorrow morning, we’re going to start looking into this. Talk to people one-on-one, discreetly. I’ll start with Carol. She’s been here for two years. She knows a lot about everyone.”
Hating a pregnant woman felt wrong, but if someone decided to kidnap Carol, Daniela would have been only mildly anguished. This trip was supposed to bringherand Ian closer together.NotIan and another woman.
Thank God, Carol was leaving.
“After Carol,” Ian said, “I’ll talk to Pierre. He gets around, from what I hear.”
“I don’t mind talking to Pierre.” He was immature, but a fun guy. Simple and lighthearted. He might know some gossip.
Ian watched her as if he was trying to see inside her. “I’ll talk to Pierre. You talk to Hannah and Heather.”
* * *
Ian
They spent the following morning trying to discover more about the personal lives of the staff, but nobody seemed to have any romantic secrets beyond the fact that all the women appeared to be secretly or not so secretly in love with Pierre.
After lunch, while Daniela chatted up Henry, the last person they hadn’t talked to yet, Ian went to see Clara again, Essie’s neighbor. He wanted Essie’s phone number so he could call and ask her if she’d seen anything suspicious before she’d moved from the house at the back of the See-Love-Aid property.
If someone had planned the kidnapping, they would have staked out the place days prior to the kidnapping in order to get an idea of people’s schedules and movements inside See-Love-Aid. Essie might remember seeing a stranger lurking around.
Clara was more than helpful, once again. She wrote Essie’s cell phone down on a wrinkled flyer and handed it to Ian.
“I had the strangest thing happen just this morning.” She tapped her head with her knuckles as if saying she was going batty. “I could swear I saw Essie at the market. I tried to catch her, but she got on a bus. I’m sure it wasn’t her, but whoever I saw looked just like her.” She sighed. “I guess I’m seeing her everywhere because I miss her. She was like a daughter to me.”
The woman stepped back to show Ian a picture on the hall table. The photo showed her with a younger woman at some kind of a festival, hugging, laughing.
Essie was pretty, if bony in the shoulders. As Ian leaned closer, he noted a scar on the younger woman’s chin. Then another on her cheekbone, as if the skin had split—maybe from a mean punch—and she hadn’t bothered to have it stitched, just let it heal on its own.
“Would you mind if I took a picture with my cell phone?”
The woman shook her head. Her eyes clouded. “I’m happy for her, but I miss her. Still, it’s good for her to have that job in São Paulo.”
Ian sensed something in the quivering tone of her voice. “Wasn’t she happy here?”
The woman pressed her lips together. But, after a moment, she said, “That boyfriend of hers. Fabricio Melo.” Deep lines of disapproval wrinkled her forehead. “He’s not a good man. He’s got harsh hands. It’s good for Essie that she left. He’s a poor fisherman. Essie gavehimmoney.” The woman’s gaze held motherly worry. “He took money she needed for her baby.”
“You know where Fabricio lives?”
The neighbor shrugged. “On his boat, mostly.”
