Lost & Found
part 1
Tuesday, July 20, 1982
3:45 pm
The intercom buzzed, and Peter Belden pushed the button. “Yes, Alice?”
“Mr. Belden, there is a Mr. Andrew Belden on the line. He says it’s important.”
“Put him through, please.” Peter set aside his papers, and picked up his telephone. “Andy? What’s up?”
“They’ve found her, Pete. They’ve found her.” Andrew Belden’s voice was hoarse with either joy or tears. Peter was not sure which.
“Tessa?” he asked, cautiously.
“Yes. She’s alive, Peter, and the authorities have her .” This time it was obviously happy tears in the voice. Peter sighed with relief, as Andrew continued. “I got a call less than an hour ago. Tessa is safe.”
“Where has she been?” Peter asked. “She’s been missing for almost six months. Where has she been?”
“I don’t know, Pete. Right now I don’t care. They found her at a church in New Jersey, and she’s alive. That’s all I know. I am at the airport right now, and my plane leaves in ten minutes. I...” Peter heard his brother swallow hard before asking. “I was hoping you could meet me at the airport, and go with me to get her. Please?”
“What time does your plane get in?”
“Five twenty-eight, New York time. United Flight 89.”
“I can be there, Andy. Do you want me to meet you in baggage claim?” Peter asked, quickly running traffic times through his head.
“No. I only have carry-on. Just pull up to the curb, Pete, I don’t want to lose any more time than I have to. And Peter?”
“Yes, Andrew?”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll see you in a bit, little brother. Goodbye.”
On the other end, Andy muttered a goodbye, and hung up. Peter hung up his telephone and rubbed his head. Pushing the intercom, he said, “Alice? I need to leave for the day. Is there anything on my schedule?”
Andrew Belden rubbed his hand through his sandy hair and looked at his watch for the third time. It still read 5:15. The plane had caught a tail wind and arrived almost twenty minutes earlier than expected. Pacing along the curb outside the airport, he considered calling a cab, then immediately dismissed the thought. Peter had agreed to meet him; he needed to have a little patience.
Andrew wasn’t sure what he was going to do next. For a self-made man, the uncertainty was very uncomfortable, but he had never been responsible for another person before, let alone a teenage girl. This teenage girl had been through God-knew-what in the last eight months. Andrew shuddered at the possibilities that crossed his mind when contemplating those unknown months.
The honking of a horn interrupted his dark thoughts, and he looked up to see Peter pulling up in the sedan. Relief surged through him. His older brother would help him set things right; he always had. Hefting his bag, Andrew strode toward his brother.
As Andy slid into the passenger seat, Peter clapped him on the shoulder and asked, “Where to?”
“The police station,” Andy said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a slip of paper. “I wrote the address on this.” He handed the address to Peter, who read it and nodded. They rode in silence.
Peter circled the station house four times before pulling the sedan into a vacant parking space. He turned to his ashen-faced younger brother. “What are you going to do, Andy?” he asked gently.
“I don’t know.” It was a soft statement, full of despair. “I barely know her, Pete, and I...I’m not even sure I want to know what she’s been through since February. I’ve called in a few favors and secured a place for her at a boarding school outside Cambridge, England, but I don’t know how I’m going to deal with today.”
“You’ll come back to the Farm with me,” Peter said firmly. “Both of you. It will give us all a chance to calm down and get to know one another.”
“What does Helen think about that?” Andrew asked.
“Helen and Bobby are at the sea shore for the rest of the week. Dr. Ferris thought Bobby could use some sea air to help him in his recovery. The boys are away at camp, and Trixie left today.”
“Left for where?” Andy asked, always interested in his nieces and nephews.
“She’s on a trailer trip, with our new neighbor, Honey Wheeler. They’re headed upstate to look for the young Frayne heir. Trixie will be back at the end of the week too. I was looking forward to a quiet week, but this is much more important.” Peter brought the conversation back to the situation at hand. “What do you say, Andy?”
“I say that Crabapple Farm is the perfect answer.” Andrew unbuckled his seat belt, and opened the door. “After all,” he said. “There’s no place like home, right?”
Inside the station house, Peter and Andrew found themselves shuttled down a dim hallway, and ushered into seats in front of a battered desk. The man behind the desk was speaking to someone on the telephone, and held up his hand, indicating he would be finished shortly. The Belden brothers waited anxiously, Peter tapping his fingers restlessly on his leg, Andy rocking his foot from toe to heel and back again. Finally, the officer hung up the telephone and turned to face them.
“I’m Detective Snelling. Which one of you is Andrew Belden?”
“I am.” Andrew rose, extending his hand. “This is my brother, Peter Belden. Where’s our niece?”
Detective Snelling shook Andrew’s hand, and gestured to him to sit. “Sit down please, Mr. Belden,” he said. Andy reluctantly sat, and the detective continued. “Miss Hart is in the interview room. She has a visitor.”
“A visitor? Who?” Andy looked concerned.
“Mr. Belden, your niece has been living these last few months with an elderly lady in New Jersey. Somehow, Miss Hart convinced the woman that she was her granddaughter. Miss Hart convinced the whole family that she was their relative.”
“How? Why?” Andy was incredulous.
“The how is easy. Evidently, your niece pretended to be the daughter of one of Mrs. Maxim’s sons; the one who lives in France. Mrs. Maxim has six sons. One of them is with your niece right now.”
“So she just said, “Hi. I am your granddaughter,” and they believed her?” It was Peter’s turn to show his disbelief.
The detective nodded. “As I understand it, your niece speaks both French and Russian; this helped her secure her place with the Maxims. That’s how. The why is still a mystery: That little girl is not cooperating.”
“I want to see my niece.” Andrew Belden rose again to his feet. “Now, please.”
“Very well.” Detective Snelling rose, as did Peter. “Come this way.”
Snelling led them to a gray door, and let them inside. A large blond man was hugging a young girl dressed in a plaid jumper and short sleeved white blouse.
“Let go of my niece!” Andrew’s voice was loud and cold, surprising everyone, himself, included. The man stepped away from the girl, and the tears in her eyes started streaming as she recognized the newcomer.
“Oh, Uncle Andy! It is you. You came!” Tessa threw herself at her uncle, who caught her, holding her close and tight.
“I’m here, Sweetheart. I’m here.” Andy murmured. He raised his eyes to the man who had been holding his niece. “And you are...?”
“I am Nika, Nikodim Maxim. My mother has been caring for Tessa. I have brought her belongings, and an invitation to return to our family if the need ever arises.” Nika extended his hand, and Andy warily shook it. Peter followed suit.
“I’m Andrew Belden and this is my brother Peter,” Andrew said coldly, “Tessa is our niece. We’ll take care of her now. I’ll see that your mother is reimbursed for her trouble.”
Nika Maxim’s eyes narrowed. “That will not be necessary, I assure you. My mother knew exactly what she was doing when she took in Tessa. My mother is a good and faithful woman with much love to give. She does not expect, nor would she accept, financial reward.”
He turned to Tessa, and his features gentled. He crouched down in front of her and murmured something in Russian. Tessa raised her wet face to Nika and nodded, smiling shakily. She whispered a response, also in Russian, and released Andy to hug the big, blond man. Maxim hugged her gently, and then turned to Peter and Andrew, nodding stiffly. With a final smile at the girl, he left with the detective.
“Tessa?” Andrew asked gently. She looked at him. “I want you to meet your Uncle Peter.” He pulled Peter forward, and Peter smiled at the girl.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Tessa.” Peter said.
“We were going to go to your house after Christmas,” Tessa’s eyes clouded, and she shook her head, as if to clear it. “You’re Trixie’s dad, right?”
“That’s right. I’m Trixie’s dad...and Brian’s...and Mart’s...and Bobby’s.” Peter said. “I just wish I had had the chance to meet you before your mother died.”
Again, the golden-green eyes clouded. “Me too,” was the response. She turned her gaze to Andrew. “Uncle Andy?” she asked. “Can we go now?”
“I’ll check, but I think that the police want you to answer a few more questions first.”
Tessa’s mouth set, and her eyes narrowed, reminding Peter of his own daughter at her most stubborn. “I’ve told them everything I can,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “I don’t have anything else to say.”
Andrew looked at his brother, who nodded. “Why don’t I go see what we need to do to get out of here?” Peter asked. “You two wait here, and I’ll see what I can do.” He strode out of the interview room, looking for Detective Snelling.
It had taken another hour before Andy and Peter Belden were allowed to escort their niece from the police station. Exhausted, Tessa fell asleep before they had even left the city. The two men kept their voices low, so as not to wake her.
As Peter parked the car outside the garage, Tessa stirred in the back. Andrew turned around and said cheerfully, “Wake up Sleeping Beauty. We’re here.”
“Where?” she asked groggily.
“Crabapple Farm. The old family homestead.” It was Peter who answered. “Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.” He got out and opened Tessa’s door. She hesitated for a moment before getting out of the car, and Peter felt his heart sink as he considered all of the things that might have contributed to her wariness. He forced a jovial smile, pushing aside the visions of his own little girl under similar circumstances, and held out his hand. Tessa placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her up onto the porch. Andy followed carrying the bags.
Tessa took in the porch swing, and the pretty flowered curtains hanging in the windows. As Peter unlocked the front door, she found herself stepping into the foyer of a house that was truly a home. Smells of lemon wax and cinnamon hung in the air. Braided and hooked scatter rugs adorned the polished wood floor, worn by years of family feet, and the furniture she could see, was comfortable and welcoming. Tessa breathed deeply, and followed her newfound uncle into the kitchen.
“I’m all alone this week,” Peter told her. “So I arranged for Mrs. Green to come in and keep house for me. I think that she probably left us a nice casserole in the oven.” He opened the door to the oven and sniffed. “Indeed. It looks and smells delicious.” He closed the door and turned to his niece, who was standing very close to Andrew. “Why don’t we get you settled in, and then we’ll eat. This,” he gestured to the bright and warm kitchen. “is the kitchen.” Tessa smiled at the obviousness of his statement. Encouraged, Peter continued, “That door leads to the cellar--that’s where your Aunt Helen stores all of her canned goodies. Over there is the mud-room and laundry. Through here,” Peter started walking. “We have our dining room, family room, and my den.”
Tessa followed. The rooms were so inviting. Pictures hung on every wall, some of them family photographs, some paintings. Her attention was drawn to a lovely winter landscape hanging over the fireplace. The signature read “Helen Johnson”.
“Your Aunt Helen painted that before we were married. Her maiden name was Johnson.” Peter told her, noticing her stare. “She did a good job, didn’t she?”
“It’s very pretty.” Tessa agreed. “Does she still paint?”
“Not so much anymore. The house and the family take a lot of her time, but she has her easel and painting supplies stored in my den...I guess I should call it our den.” Peter reached out his hand slowly to his niece. Just as slowly, she took it. He smiled. “Come down this hall and you’ll be in your room.”
The guest room was very pretty. The full size bed was covered with a lovely and intricately quilted coverlet. The dark cherry furniture gleamed, as did the portion of the floor not covered with scatter rugs. A door to the left of the bed led into a small bathroom. “This room is the guest room now,” Peter was saying. “As my mother and father became older, they had this room built for whichever of my siblings came to care for them. It ended up being Aunt Helen and me. By that time, they were both ill, so we moved them into this room so they didn’t have to navigate the stairs. Aunt Helen and I took the master suite upstairs.”
“Did they die in here?” Tessa asked, her eyes wide.
“No. Never fear.” Peter hid a smile. “My father died in his easy chair, watching his favorite television show. He closed his eyes and never woke up. My mother had already died in the hospital a few weeks earlier. This room is ghost free.”
“I don’t mind ghosts,” Tessa told him firmly. “I was just curious.”
“Why don’t you get cleaned up for dinner?” Andy Belden asked as he set the duffle bag on the bed. “That casserole sure smelled good.”
“Where will you be?” Tessa asked Andy, a tinge of concern in her voice.
“I’ll be right upstairs in Brian’s bedroom.” Andy looked to Peter for confirmation. Peter nodded. “It’s the second door on the left, just before the bathroom.”
“And my door is at the end of the hall. You just knock if you need anything.” Peter added, relieved when Tessa nodded and smiled shyly. “I’ll go get dinner on the table. We’ll see you in a few minutes, right?”
“Yes, sir...Uncle Peter. Tessa watched as the men left the room, and then went to wash her face and hands.
Dinner was pleasant. Tessa found herself relaxing as bread and salad were passed, and Uncle Peter served heaping helpings of the casserole. Sipping from her milk glass, Tessa asked the question that had been weighing on her mind. “Uncle Andy, what are you going to do with me?”
Both Belden men looked at her, and set down their forks. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about that,” Andrew told her. “I’ve considered a lot of different options, including having you live here, at the farm, where you’d have a whole family. For now, though, I’m not willing to let you away from me for too long.” Andrew looked deep into her eyes. “I was so worried when you disappeared, Tessa. I was devastated by your mother’s death, and having you missing nearly killed me.” Tessa’s eyes welled with tears as he continued. “I fired the receptionist who misfiled the notice. I quit the program I was doing in England. Nothing was more important than finding you. Nothing!”
“I’m sorry.” The words were barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t think I had a choice. I...I can’t...”
“I understand that, and I don’t blame you for anything that happened.” Andrew took a deep breath. “I know that some horrible things happened to you, Tessa, but I won’t ask you about them until you are ready to tell me. Then, I promise I will listen. I’ll listen, and I’ll do whatever I can to make things right. I promise.”
“I want to go home,” Tessa’s voice was strong, although tears glimmered in her eyes. “I want to go home. I want to take Mama home and send her ashes out with Daddy and Keoni. Please?”
“I promise that I will take you home to Maui, Tessa. But I’m afraid it will have to wait a little while.” Andrew ran a hand through his hair.
“Tessa.” Peter Belden spoke, giving his younger sibling a chance to compose himself. “I know that your Uncle Andy wants to take you home, but he has a lot of business that he has put on hold while looking for you. He needs to tend to that, get all caught up with work. Not to mention that I think he wants to spend some time getting to know you, making sure that you are all right.”
“I need to go back to England, well, Scotland actually, for another year. My plan is to take you with me. I have a place for you at St. Mary’s. It’s a wonderful boarding school in Cambridge, England. Very top of the line, educationally speaking.” Andrew was speaking quickly, trying to spit it all out before Tessa could mount a protest. “I have a flat outside of London, and another in Edinburgh. I’ll be doing business with sheep breeders throughout the British Isles. We can spend all the holidays and weekends together, getting to know each other. Then, when school is out in May, I’ll take you back to Maui, and we can decide the best plan for us.”
Tessa looked carefully at her uncle. He seemed...nervous. She was not happy about being kept away from her home. The child in her wanted to rage and scream, but the realistic side of her nature prevailed. Uncle Andy wasn’t keeping her from going home, he was just postponing it a bit. One thing she had learned in the months since her mother had died was that things didn’t always go the way you planned, or wanted. Swallowing her disappointment, Tessa said, “Okay,” and turned her attention back to her plate.
Andrew sat back, not sure he had heard his niece correctly. He had been prepared for tears, anger, or an explosive argument. What he got was a few moments of silence and compliance. He looked at his brother. Peter just shrugged and mouthed, “kids!”
“When do we leave?” Tessa asked quietly, still focusing on her food.
“We’ll stay here for a few days,” Andrew replied. “There are some legal issues to take care of before we leave the country. As soon as that is done, I thought we’d head back to Happy Valley Farm for a week or so to tie up things there, and then on to London.”
“I’ll need clothes.” Tessa told him, meeting his eyes for the first time. “My luggage was at the apartment in New York, and I don’t know where that is. All I have is what’s in my duffle bag.”
“We can do that. There are some very nice stores in Des Moines, and I’d bet dollars to doughnuts that Mary Gorman--she’s the housekeeping half of my farm management team--would love taking you shopping. Of course, we’ll buy your school uniforms once we make Cambridge. You don’t mind uniforms, do you?”
Tessa laughed. Andrew looked at her, and realized that she was wearing a school uniform. He began to chuckle. “I guess you’re used to them. Was the school you attended Catholic?”
“St. Augustine, yes.” Tessa sobered. “But Kings wasn’t, and we wore uniforms there too, they were just different than this.” She ran her hand over her plaid skirt. “What do the uniforms at St. Mary’s look like?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t ask about the clothes, just the curriculum and the accommodations.” Andrew looked chagrined.
“Men!” Tessa said, trying unsuccessfully to smother a smile. “You never get the important information.” She looked at both of her uncles, and dissolved into uncontrollable giggles.
