Chapter 5 - Noah’s Rabbit Had Something Sewn Inside
I did not open the rabbit.
That mattered.
Every instinct told me something had been hidden inside Mr. Buttons.
Every bit of training told me not to tear apart a frightened child’s comfort object without knowing what it was.
I handed the rabbit back to Noah.
He woke immediately.
“My bunny.”
“I’ve got him.”
He took it and examined the crooked ear as though checking for damage.
“Did he fall?”
“Just onto the carpet.”
“You have to be careful.”
“You’re right.”
He tucked Mr. Buttons under his arm.
I looked at Linda.
“Galley.”
She followed.
Jenna joined us.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
I pulled the curtain.
“Linda says she knew Noah’s mother.”
Jenna stared at her.
“What?”
Linda leaned against the counter.
“Her name was Rachel Parker.”
Noah’s mother finally had a name.
“How did you know her?” I asked.
“She was an attorney.”
“For the airline?”
“No.”
“Then why would she call you?”
Linda looked at Jenna.
“Because twenty-three years ago, Rachel was my foster sister.”
Neither of us spoke.
Linda rubbed both hands over her face.
“Our parents knew each other. Rachel’s mother died when she was fifteen. She lived with my family for almost two years.”
“Why didn’t you say anything when you saw Noah?”
“I didn’t recognize him.”
“You knew his last name.”
“Parker is not unusual.”
“You knew Aaron’s first name.”
She looked away.
“Because the man at the gate told me.”
There it was.
“What man?”
“I don’t know his name.”
“What exactly did he say?”
“He showed me a picture of Noah and said there was a custody problem.”
“And you believed him?”
“He had Aaron’s employee badge.”
“That should have made him Aaron?”
“He said he was helping the family.”
“Linda, why would somebody helping a family ask you to move a protected child?”
Her mouth tightened.
“He didn’t tell me the boy was protected.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That Aaron had illegally moved Noah out of Margaret Vale’s custody. He said Margaret had an active order and airport police were coming. He wanted Noah moved closer to the rear galley so he wouldn’t be taken off through first class in front of everyone.”
I stared at her.
“That made sense to you?”
“At the time.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew Margaret.”
Jenna shook her head.
“This keeps getting worse.”
Linda ignored her.
“Rachel’s mother was Margaret’s sister.”
“So Margaret is Rachel’s aunt?”
“Yes.”
“And Noah calls her Grandma?”
“She raised Rachel for several years before Rachel entered foster care. Noah grew up calling her Grandma.”
That explained one piece.
Not enough.
“Why did Rachel call you six months ago?”
Linda looked through the curtain toward Noah.
“She was scared.”
“Of Margaret?”
“Partly.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know everything.”
“Tell us what you do know.”
Linda hesitated.
“Rachel believed someone was taking money from a trust left for Noah.”
The story suddenly changed shape.
“What trust?”
“Her father’s estate.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Enough for people to kidnap a child?”
Linda’s silence answered.
Jenna whispered:
“Jesus.”
“Rachel said Margaret controlled several family accounts. She thought documents had been altered after Noah’s grandfather died.”
“And Aaron?”
“Aaron discovered it first.”
“Why didn’t they go to police?”
“They did.”
“What happened?”
“Civil dispute. Probate court. Lawyers.”
Linda gave a bitter laugh.
“You know how wealthy families can make theft look like paperwork.”
I thought of Margaret’s elegant coat.
Her calm voice.
The expired custody order in a leather folder.
“How did Rachel die?”
Linda’s face changed.
“Car accident.”
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
“Was Margaret involved?”
“I never said that.”
“Did Rachel think she was in danger?”
“Yes.”
“Then why was her death treated as an accident?”
“Because sometimes an accident is an accident.”
The sentence sounded rehearsed.
I remembered the rabbit.
“What did Rachel tell you on the phone?”
“That if anything happened to her, I should make sure Aaron kept Noah away from Margaret.”
“And you tried to move him after a stranger told you Margaret had custody.”
Linda looked ashamed.
“I thought Aaron had lost the case.”
“Without checking.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t even recognize Noah.”
“No.”
“Did the man mention Rachel?”
Linda nodded.
“What did he say?”
“That Rachel’s wishes had been misrepresented by Aaron.”
“And you believed that too?”
“I wanted to.”
That answer surprised me.
“Why?”
Linda looked down.
“Because Rachel stopped speaking to me eight years ago.”
“What happened?”
“I took Margaret’s side in an argument.”
Of course.
“What argument?”
“I told Rachel she was being paranoid about family money.”
Jenna exhaled.
“And now?”
“Now I don’t know what I believe.”
I thought about the hard object inside Mr. Buttons.
“Did Rachel ever mention the rabbit?”
Linda’s head snapped up.
“What?”
“Noah’s stuffed rabbit.”
She stared at me.
“Why?”
“Did she?”
Linda took one step closer.
“What happened to the ear?”
“Repaired.”
“What color thread?”
The question was too specific.
“Blue.”
Linda went pale.
“Oh, God.”
“What?”
“She did it.”
“Rachel?”
“Yes.”
“What did she do?”
Linda pushed past me toward the cabin.
I caught her arm.
“Tell me first.”
She lowered her voice.
“When we were teenagers, Rachel and I had a hiding place.”
“In a stuffed animal?”
“She had a bear.”
“What did she hide?”
“Notes. Money. Keys. Anything she didn’t want Margaret finding.”
“And the blue thread?”
Linda swallowed.
“Our signal.”
My skin prickled.
“What signal?”
“If the stitching was blue, don’t open it unless you were somewhere safe.”
I looked toward Noah.
He was awake now, watching clouds.
Mr. Buttons lay in his lap.
“How safe?”
“Rachel once said if she ever used blue stitches again, it meant the thing inside mattered more than the toy.”
I turned to Jenna.
“Call protective services.”
Linda grabbed my wrist.
“No.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“Because we don’t know who has access to the airline system.”
The stolen badge.
The leaked itinerary.
The stranger at the gate.
She had a point.
“Then the captain.”
“Yes.”
We took the rabbit issue to the cockpit through the interphone.
The captain contacted a security supervisor using a separate operational channel.
Instructions came back:
Do not open the item.
Do not remove it from Noah.
Do not disclose its existence in digital notes accessible to ground personnel.
Jenna looked at me.
“That confirms they’re worried about an internal leak.”
Linda heard.
Her face closed.
“I told you.”
“That does not clear you.”
“I know.”
For the first time, she did not argue.
Noah needed the lavatory.
Protocol became absurdly complicated.
Jenna checked the aisle.
I stood outside the door.
Linda remained near 2A.
The rabbit came with him.
When Noah emerged, he whispered:
“Can you fix my shoe?”
His lace was still untied.
I knelt.
“Absolutely.”
As I tied it, he touched my shoulder.
“Ryan?”
“Yes?”
“Did you find my dad?”
I looked up.
“Not yet.”
His mouth trembled.
Only once.
“Is he hurt?”
“We don’t know.”
“That means maybe.”
Six years old.
Too smart for soft answers.
“Yes,” I said. “Maybe.”
He nodded.
Then did something I will never forget.
He held Mr. Buttons out to me.
“Daddy said if he doesn’t come, I give this to the person who helped me stay in my seat.”
My hands stopped.
“What?”
“He made me say it back.”
“Noah, when did he tell you that?”
“This morning.”
“Before you boarded?”
“Yes.”
My pulse hammered.
“What exactly did he say?”
Noah concentrated.
“If Daddy doesn’t come to New York, give Mr. Buttons to the person who made sure you stayed in 2A.”
Linda was standing ten feet away.
She heard every word.
“So Aaron knew,” she whispered.
“Knew what?”
“That somebody might try to move him.”
Noah still held the rabbit toward me.
I did not take it.
“Buddy, your dad may still come.”
“He said if he doesn’t.”
“We’re not in New York yet.”
Noah slowly pulled Mr. Buttons back.
“Okay.”
The cabin phone rang.
Jenna answered.
Her face changed.
She looked at us.
“Seattle police found Aaron.”
Noah heard his father’s name.
He jumped from the seat before I could stop him.
“Daddy?”
I put both hands gently on his shoulders.
“Stay here.”
“Is he okay?”
Jenna was listening.
Her eyes filled.
“What happened?”
She turned away from Noah.
I understood immediately.
Not dead.
If Aaron were dead, her expression would have been different.
But not okay.
“Where?” I asked.
“Parking structure maintenance room.”
“Conscious?”
“Yes.”
Noah grabbed my sleeve.
“Daddy?”
I forced myself to stay calm.
“Your dad is alive.”
His entire face changed.
“Can I call him?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“He’s with doctors.”
The smile disappeared again.
Jenna continued listening.
Then she said:
“What was in his hand?”
I looked at her.
The officer on the line repeated something.
Jenna slowly turned toward Linda.
“What?”
Linda whispered.
Jenna covered the receiver.
“They found him holding a piece of paper.”
“What paper?”
“A printed photograph.”
“Of Noah?”
“No.”
May you like
Her eyes moved toward the rabbit.
“It was a photograph of Rachel Parker sewing blue thread into Mr. Buttons.”
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