Doubleback: A Novel Read Online Free PDF

family room to watch the nine o’clock news.
    The program preceding the news ended, and the screen cut to a teaser shot of the news anchor. “Abducted North Shore Girl Comes Home!” she announced breathlessly. “Details Ahead!”
    I gasped. Was this Molly Messenger? Had she been freed? I waited impatiently as a series of commercials told me about yet another sale at Macy’s, a new car for zero percent financing, and the latest menu addition at Red Lobster. Finally, the news began, and the program cut to a close-up of a little girl in a school photo with a blue background.
    Molly.
    “Our top story is the return of an eight-year-old North Shore girl to her family. Molly Messenger was abducted three mornings ago. Gerry Rivers has the story.” The report cut to B-roll of the park district building, kids getting out of cars, parents walking them inside.
    A male voice-over continued. “Molly Messenger’s parents have been working with police ever since the girl was kidnapped from camp on Monday. Then, today, just a couple of hours ago, witnesses say, a car stopped at the end of this block.” The story cut to a wide shot of the reporter walking down the middle of Molly’s street. “The door to the car opened, Molly got out, and, according to witnesses, ran down the block to her house. Her parents say she appears to be healthy, although she will undergo tests at a nearby hospital. Her parents, of course, are exceedingly thankful.”
    The story cut to a shot of Christine Messenger on her front steps. She still looked pale and haggard, but the tension had drained from her body. Standing beside her was a bald man. He looked handsome and young, forty at the most, so the baldness was probably a choice, not a condition. He wore navy chinos and a red golf shirt. The ex-husband. They stood close together. Trying to put on a united front for the public?
    “This is a miracle. My prayers have been answered,” Christine said. “I am so very grateful to have my daughter back. She seems to be fine, and she’s already asking when she can go to the pool.” A wan smile flitted across her face.
    The husband cut in. “But, as you might imagine, we have been through an ordeal, and now we need time to heal. We hope you understand our need for privacy.”
    The report cut back to the reporter who said the family was going into seclusion. “No one appears to have seen the car Molly was in. And, as far as we know, there never was any demand for a ransom. In fact, police remain tight-lipped about the case. Which means the mystery surrounding this bizarre kidnapping persists.” The reporter signed off after bantering with the anchorwoman about staying on the story and reporting new developments as soon as possible.
    As the program transitioned to a fire in a West Side warehouse, I ran a hand through my hair.
    “ Nu ?” Dad asked. That’s Yiddish for “well” or “so” or just “what’s going on”?
    “I know that woman. I—uh—went to her house three days ago.”
    My father’s eyes narrowed and he pointed to the TV. “You met with that woman? I thought you were done with your—meddling.”
    “I was doing Susan a favor. Christine Messenger is her neighbor. Susan thought I might be able to help.”
    “And?”
    “I told her to call the police. So did Georgia Davis.”
    “Georgia Davis? How do I know that name?”
    “She’s an investigator. Used to be on the police force up here. She—”
    “I remember. Rachel saw her for a while.”
    Whoever said elderly people’s memories get foggy doesn’t know my father. “That’s right. And then a couple of winters ago, she and I—well, never mind.”
    “So, what’s the problem? The girl is home. She’s okay. It’s a happy ending.”
    I wasn’t convinced. Usually the police love to crow about their accomplishments, and resolving the Messenger kidnapping was a big one. So why were they, in the reporter’s words, so “tight-lipped?” I’m no cop, but I know that when