Goldilocks Forever

Chapter 47

Ithaca, New York

June 2006

Neither of them spoke while Tom drove to the police station the next morning. When the detective noticed Anna, his face changed, his smile fading, his eyes widening in surprise.

Tom broke the silence. "My daughter would like to talk to you."

Anna stood beside him, unmoving, staring back at the intent detective.

Detective Harbinger blinked like he was emerging from a fog. "I'm sorry." He extended his hand. "You are?"

Anna opened her mouth, but before she could speak, her father said, "This is Anastasia."

Harbinger's mouth dropped open. He closed it under Anna's stare. "Very nice to finally meet you, Anastasia. Come this way." He led her and Tom into a small conference room and closed the blinds over one wide window. He offered them coffee, water. Both declined. He kept his back to them as he made his own cup of coffee, pouring packets and packets of sugar into it. Sitting across from Anna, he stirred it with a wooden stick.

"Missing person, found," Harbinger said with aplomb. He pulled a small recorder from a drawer behind him and set it on the table, switched it on.

Anna watched the tiny wheel inside turn as the recorder's red light glowed.

"Are you okay with your father being present?"

She nodded and answered Harbinger's questions, the entire time staring at the recorder on the table. She made her answers non-committal when necessary, stating that she didn't remember, which was often true.

Finally, after about an hour, the detective exchanged glances with Tom and switched off the recorder. "You understand there's not much for us to go on." Anna nodded. He sighed and filtered through some business cards in the drawer. "You should go see a shrink."

Tom looked at Anna, a look that agreed with the detective, however harsh and to the point.

Harbinger continued. "These kinds of traumatic events can mess with your head." He tossed a card to Anna across the table. She looked at it, but didn't touch it. "It's a good idea to undergo a physical exam as well. You might have a brain injury."

Tom gave Anna a told-you-so look. He reached over the table. Anna jerked back. Tom flinched with a mixture of pain and confusion. He picked up the business card and put it in his pocket. "I'm going to call Dr. Andrews when we get home."

Anna stood up and pushed her chair into the table, making it wobble. Harbinger kept his eyes on her, but she ignored him and looked at her father. In a cold, detached voice, she told him, "I won't go." He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, she added, "What are you worried about?" He was silent, at a loss for words. "I'm fine," she said, softer. "There's nothing anyone can do now. It happened. It's over."

Harbinger handed her another card, his own. "If you remember anything else, call me."

On the ride home, Tom once again spoke first. "You know you can tell me, right? Whatever happened, no matter how horrible, you can tell me." His voice broke. "I love you, Stacy. Nothing can change that, okay?" He glanced over at her. "Do you understand?"

"Yeah, Dad." She could not meet his eyes. She wanted more than anything to tell him, to spill out the truth, no matter how painful it would be to her, and to him. To him. How to tell him that his own daughter, precious Casey, was responsible? She couldn't. She could never. She had secrets now. They filled her, made her turn away.

Back at the house, Anna went upstairs to her room and sat on her bed, staring at her violin. From in the hallway, her father said, "The psychologist is a good idea. If you can't talk to me, maybe talking to someone else would help."