Chapter 44
Manny didn’t know how to answer Celia. Maybe she was cursed. Maybe they both were. He grasped her shoulders and turned her away from that atrocious river.
He knew the statistics. The longer a child was gone, the more likely he was dead. As if it weren’t enough to know that for himself, Manny had read it in the eyes of every police officer who stopped by Celia’s house.
Now he read it in Celia’s eyes.
The police had checked André’s apartment in North Carolina just an hour ago. They’d found his grandmother there, alone. There was no sign of André or a baby.
They had checked bus depots and train stations all along the East Coast.
Flora and Vicki had distributed five hundred flyers in Brockton.
Tiago and Theo had asked around at every bar in the city.
Yvonne had spoken with reporters and launched a social media campaign.
So far, the lead about the man bringing the baby down to the river was the best lead yet. Manny shuddered at the thought of that icy, cold river clogged with trash.
A headache throbbed in his temples. Knowing André, Manny could see how likely it was that Benjamin had been drowned. André was a violent man, the type who would knock out his wife’s teeth, leave permanent scars on her face, and haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life. Even if he hadn’t initially planned to harm the baby, the crying could have sent him into a fury.
But Manny couldn’t be sure that was what happened. “It could have been another man and another baby,” he whispered, moving around to face her. “Rafael didn’t get a good look at him, and the man did say it was his girlfriend’s baby, not his own.”
She glanced at him, but her gaze didn’t connect with his. “Perhaps.” Her thoughts seemed trapped somewhere below the chunks of ice and floating debris.
“We have to try other theories.” If only he could think of another theory—some new place to look or someone else to ask. He couldn’t let her keep thinking the worst. “Have you tried calling his grandmother again? I’ve forgotten her name.”
“Teresa?” She rubbed a hand across her face, drawing his attention to the circles under her eyes and the paleness of her skin. “She never answers. Probably she blames me for André’s actions.”
He supposed it could be true, but most grandmothers, especially Cape Verdean grandmothers, would put aside their grudges to answer phone calls from people who were suffering. There had to be more to this. “Maybe she’s avoiding your calls because she knows something she doesn’t want you to find out.”
Her eyes widened. “That could be. She’s very protective of André.” She took a step away from the river as Tiago joined them again.
“A police detective is on his way. We need to meet him at the bridge.” Tiago raked his hand through his hair, pulling it hard.
As they walked, Manny turned back to Celia. He couldn’t let his theory about Teresa rest. “Do you think she’d talk to you if we went down to North Carolina? I know the police are going to talk to her, but you know her better. You’ll be able to tell whether she speaks the truth.”
Celia paused for a moment, her gaze moving over empty bottles and cans along the riverbank, before she answered. “I know where she lives and every place she ever goes. If we go down there, she’ll have to talk to me.” Her voice took on an angry edge as she spoke through her teeth. “I’ll make her talk to me.”
“Then let’s go.” At least it was better than letting Celia stare down at this filthy river. He grasped her hand in his, trying his best to pull her away from this hopeless place. With his other hand, he pushed back the branches that hung over the path. “Between the two of us, we can figure out a way to pay for the trip. I’ve got a pile of totes at the apartment, and you have earrings to sell, don’t you?”
Again, she took way too long to answer as they followed the dirt path in the direction of the road. “Yes.” Of course, her brain would be showing the effects of all the stress. She hadn’t slept for over a day now. Yvonne had suggested they might need to contact a doctor for some medication to help her sleep.
“Have you forgotten I have a car?” Tiago broke in. He was walking just ahead of them. “I can drive you down to North Carolina if that’s where you’re going.”
“But your job at the bakery—” Celia began.
“My family will cover for me. They know I won’t be back to work until we find Benjamin. He’s more important than a thousand cakes and rolls.”
Manny clapped a hand onto Tiago’s shoulder, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Thank you, friend.”
Ahead of them, at the top of the path, he saw a police car pull to the side of the road. Tiago hustled up to meet the officer while Manny helped Celia struggle up the slick embankment.
They were almost to the top of the slippery, mud path when Celia stopped, covering her mouth with her hand.
He held her, preventing her from falling. “What’s the problem?”
Her whole body shook as she pointed to an old, black sweatshirt lying beside the path.
“What?” The word had barely escaped when he saw what she was looking at—a blue pacifier caked in mud and nestled beside the sweatshirt. It was the same kind Benjamin used, the only kind he would accept. Celia had come into the convenience store three or four times to buy one.
His strength gave out. No longer able to hold onto her, he let her slip from his hands and collapse onto the ground.
“Don’t touch it,” he said as she reached for the pacifier. “The police—” He couldn’t finish his sentence. They would want to test the DNA on it. Likely, they’d find it was Benjamin’s.
He knelt beside her, his hand on her arm. Was this all they would ever know about Benjamin, that his pacifier ended up beside the river? Was this a sign that they should give up searching? That he was . . . dead?
Tiago and the detective were walking toward them.
He couldn’t give up so easily. “Listen, Celia,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “What you said earlier about you being cursed—you said you lost me after the volcano. But you can’t ever lose someone who loves you as much as I do. There wasn’t a day after the volcano that I didn’t think about you and plan how I’d find you again. Some might call it a curse that I haven’t been able to forget you, but I call it a blessing. And it’s going to be the same with Benjamin. We’re going to find him.”
She grasped his hand. “But the pacifier,” she said.
“It could have been someone else’s. A lot of babies use that type. We don’t even know whether André took a pacifier, do we?”
She shook her head, covering her ears with her hands. “I don’t know,” she yelled. “I don’t know anything.”