Devil's Spring

by Aaron Lazar

  “Of course,” Tessie said.

  “I think maybe we should see how they react when you walk into the other room. I’ll leave the door open if it makes you feel more comfortable? And my assistant Raoul will brew you a nice cup of tea.”

  Tessie stood slowly. “Okay. If the door’s open, I’ll feel better. Thank you.”

  She backed away from the children, but they seemed okay, happy with the new toys Susie kept showing them. “I’ll be right outside, sweeties.”

  The boy at the desk—Raoul—gave her another fake smile and held up two boxes of tea. “Chamomile or English Breakfast? I’m afraid that’s all I have today.”

  “Chamomile would be fine,” Tessie said, settling in a chair with a sight line into the other room. She saw her charges perfectly well, and relaxed. “And thank you.”

  Raoul nodded, turned on an electric kettle, and set a red mug out for her on the counter. “It’ll just be a sec.”

  In three minutes, Tessie had the warm mug of tea in her hands. She sipped it while listening to Susie play with the children, and soon she saw flashes coming from the other room. She must have already started the shoot, she thought.

  The room turned fuzzy, and Tessie rubbed her eyes. She felt weak, and when she tried to stand, the world spun around her. “I…I think something’s wrong,” she sputtered.

  Raoul stood over her, smiling. “No, dear. Nothing’s wrong. You just relax now.”

  The last thing Tessie remembered before she passed out was the image of his smug face floating before her eyes.

  Chapter 17

  Tessie woke on the floor with her cheek pressed against the carpet. Her head swam when she tried to raise it above ground level.

  Nausea surged through her and pain throbbed in her temples, pulsing deep inside her brain.

  What happened? Where am I?

  A pink wall came into focus, then an empty desk.

  She reached for the chair she’d fallen from earlier and slowly dragged herself to a sitting position. The room still whirled around her.

  With a start, she remembered.

  Oh my God. The children.

  “Joey? Caroline?” The words came from her brain, but her lips fumbled them, making her sound drunk. She tried again. “Hello? Susie?”

  Wait a minute. Did I have a heart attack like Orville?

  Where is everyone?

  With great effort, she pulled herself up onto the chair. Her breath came in ragged gasps, as if she’d run a mile. She knew in this instant that her pigheaded decision not to get a cell phone would haunt her for the rest of her life. With a great effort, she wrenched her body around to see if there was a phone on the desk.

  But of course, Raoul had spoken into a fancy cell phone earlier. There was no good old-fashioned landline phone in sight.

  The door was closed to the photography studio.

  Maybe Raoul had just left for lunch. Maybe she’d passed out from illness unknown. Maybe the egg salad she’d eaten for lunch had gone bad? Maybe Susie was still in the other room, taking photos.

  What time is it?

  She searched for a wall clock, but the room was stripped bare. Aside from the chair she sat in earlier, only the pink walls, blue rug, and empty desk remained. The red coffee mug, electric kettle, boxes of tea, sugar, and spoons were gone.

  Panic bubbled into her throat. “Hello? Susie?”

  She leaned forward, nearly retched, and counted to ten, feeling the blood rush from her face to her toes. A sinking feeling hit her, and she hardly dared to face it.

  “Susie?” She heaved herself to her feet, wobbled dangerously, and leaned against the wall for support. Cold sweat ran down her back. “Susie? Are you back there?”

  Slowly, she made her way along the wall to the closed studio door. “Hello?”

  She pushed it open and came face-to-face with her worst nightmare.

  The room was empty. No lights. No toys. No fluffy rugs. No table of half-eaten lunch remains. No cameras.

  No Susie.

  No children.

  The empty stroller sat in the middle of the room, almost in accusation.

  A wave of blackness threatened to overtake her, but she leaned her head against the wall and took a deep breath. “No. No. NO!”

  As quickly as she could, she made her way back to the entrance, flung open the door, and screamed into the hallway for help.

  ∞∞∞

  Anderson’s last class of the day was cancelled due to another power outage at the college. Lately it had been happening a lot, and the administration was scrambling to figure out the cause, like which little family of mice kept chewing into the old power boxes. But he hadn’t felt too badly about it, since he’d been ready to go home two hours ago.

  He walked into their new digs in the bunkhouse to find Grace brooding on the bed. “What’s wrong, honey?”

  She tossed him an uneasy smile. “Oh, nothing.” Rising, she walked to the window, staring at the hills outside. “I just can’t get an answer at the Hawkes’ farm. I wanted to check on Caroline.”

  “Feeling nervous about this photography thing again?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I know it’s stupid, but I just have a bad feeling about it.” She’d been wary about the modeling agency from the start, and as the appointment had approached, she’d felt an irrational sense of foreboding.

  “Wait. You said no one’s answering at the Hawkes’?”

  She shook her head. “I get that Orville is probably out in the fields. Boone is here, mending our fences. And Tessie might just not have returned yet. I do wish she’d get a cell phone.”

  He stroked her hair and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I’m sure you’re right. She’ll be back soon.”

  “If I don’t hear from her by quarter to five, I’m calling Portia. She usually stops at the farm to pick up the kids by five, anyway.”

  “Good plan.”

  “Are you hungry?” She shook off her mood and stood with her hips canted. “I have a nice sugar ham we can fry up in that electric skillet Mom gave us. Maybe with maple syrup? I’m thinking salad and baked beans? I’d love baked potatoes with it, but they aren’t so good cooked in the microwave.”

  He laughed and scooped her into his arms, kissing her deeply. “Agreed. Sounds delicious, even without the potatoes. Let me go shower and change and I’ll be out to help you in a few minutes.”

  She rose up on her toes to kiss him again. “Okay, sweetie. Then you can tell me about your day.”

  Anderson’s eyes widened. Grace never asked him about his day. A smile blossomed on his face. “Well, that would be just fine.” He hugged her one more time, then headed to the shower to rinse off the day’s annoyances.

  ∞∞∞

  Portia picked up her cell phone just as she slid into her car. “Grace?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. Hey, have you heard from Tessie yet?”

  “No, but I’m on my way there anyway. Is something wrong?”

  “Not for sure, but I can’t seem to get through to her at the farm.”

  “Maybe the line’s out? You know how unreliable the phone lines are.”

  “Maybe.” Grace paused. “I’m just being a worrywart, I guess.”

  “Hey, stop worrying. I’ll be there in a few minutes and I’ll sort it all out.”

  “What if Tessie’s car broke down? Oh, God, with the kids inside… And it’s so hot out. That would be awful. She doesn’t have a phone with her, Portia.”

  “Hold on there. We don’t really know anything of the kind.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Grace sighed. “I don’t know why I’m such a wreck. I’ll try to calm down. Just call me when you get there, okay?”

  Portia put the car in gear and rolled out of the nursery parking lot. “Of course. I’ll call you right back. Just hang tight and try not to worry.”

  They hung up, but now Portia started to fret. What if Tessie did have car troubles? She did drive a really old sedan, which she planned to sell, according to Boon
e. What if she was stranded on the side of the road? Joey didn’t like riding in the car seat even when the car was moving, never mind if it was sitting on the side of the road in the heat.

  She pressed harder on the accelerator, scanning the roadside for a disabled vehicle.

  Ten minutes later she pulled into the Hawke’s driveway, phone to her ear. “Boone? It’s me. I’m at your farm. But your mom’s car isn’t here and no one’s picking up inside.”

  The roar of the tractor in the background receded as he shut it down. “What? You say my mother’s not home yet?”

  “Right. Wait a minute. Your father’s coming in from the barn. Let me ask him.”

  Orville trotted toward Portia’s car, meeting her halfway. “You heard from Tessie?”

  Portia shook her head. “I’ve been trying to call the house, but she’s not there.”

  Orville pointed to the driveway. “I know, she’s not back yet.”

  “Maybe the photo session went overtime?” Portia suggested.

  “Let’s check the messages.”

  Portia hurried after him. “You’ll have to ignore my three messages.”

  Orville burst through the kitchen door. Normally a pretty laid back guy, on most days he would have held the door for her. Not today.

  She felt her pulse beating faster in her throat. “You think something happened to her?”

  He pressed the play button on the old-fashioned recorder. “Let’s just see if she left us a message first.”

  They listened impatiently to all of Portia’s polite recordings, several from Grace, one from the local pharmacy, and another from a local cable. There was nothing from Tessie.

  Chapter 18

  “The chillren!” Tessie tried to scream the words but they wouldn’t come out properly. “They took the chillren.” She clawed at Sheriff Dunne, sobbing. He’d arrived ten minutes after a young woman from the nearby insurance company offices had called for help.

  The Sheriff took her arm and led her back inside the now empty agency reception area. “Here. Let’s sit you down, Mrs. Hawke.”

  She sank onto the chair, but didn’t release her hold on his arm. “You don’ unnerstan’... Susie stole the chillren!”

  When Dunne noticed the empty stroller in the adjoining room, he became all business. It was almost as if he hadn’t believed her earlier. But now he turned brisk, speaking into his radiophone with knitted brow.

  Tessie’s words still came out sluggish, as if her lips and tongue were numbed with Novocain. She tried hard to shake it off, to focus on speaking clearly. The room wound around her in dizzying circles. “They drugged me,” she managed.

  Dunne returned to her side. “Tell me everything. I need to know the children’s names, ages, and descriptions. We can’t do an Amber Alert without that.”

  She gripped the arms of the chair, forcing her lips to listen to her brain. The words came slowly. “Dirk Joseph Hawke. We call him Joey. Two years old. Brown hair and eyes. He’s my grandson. And Caroline Anne Rockwell. She’s a year, Joey’s cousin. She belongs to my daughter-in-law’s sister and her husband. Blonde, blue eyes.”

  “I know them,” he said, looking surprised. “Where are Portia and Grace?” Dunne said without looking up, scribbling furiously on a notepad.

  Her heart squeezed. “Oh my God. Please call them. And call my husband.”

  “I’ve still got their numbers in my phone.”

  In what seemed like an hour, but was probably just ten minutes, the hallway outside the reception area filled with police. Dunne had summoned his sidekick, Deputy Mills, and in a blur, Tessie realized why the sheriff knew her extended family. Portia had been kidnapped several years ago, had escaped, and they’d spent the ensuing weeks dealing with the vengeful wrath of her kidnapper.

  But the family’s troubles didn’t end there.

  The next year, Grace’s life had gone to hell in a hand basket, as her grandmother used to say. She’d succumbed to an awful sex addiction, which had brought a man from Anderson’s distant past out of the woodwork. The guy had hated Anderson for decades, and had been plotting his revenge for years. The wicked man had murdered Anderson’s fiancée and had nearly killed Anderson.

  Tessie heard snatches of conversations around her, but still found it hard to concentrate.

  “Get the Feds on the line. We’ll need them.”

  “No ransom note?”

  “Don’t touch anything until we’ve got the scene photographed. I want everyone in booties. Nobody in here except Mills and Kuczynski.”

  “What’s with the grandmother? Did they drug her?”

  A kindly policewoman helped her back into the hallway, where a chair had miraculously appeared from a nearby office. “Sit here, dear. And drink this water. It’ll help you. We’ve got EMTs coming to check you over, okay? You try to breathe, now. Take slow, deep breaths.”

  Breathing hadn’t come easy. Tessie had never felt such panic in her life. Not when she’d been learning to drive the tractor and the brakes gave out on that hill leading to the rushing river. Not when she’d spontaneously given birth to Ned in the lower forty. And not when Orville had had his heart attack.

  No. This was even worse.

  The children were gone. And she was responsible.

  ∞∞∞

  Boone snatched his cell phone from the table in the kitchen. Grace, Anderson, and Portia huddled around him. “Hello?”

  “Sheriff Dunne here, Boone. I need you downtown as soon as possible.”

  Boone felt the blood in his face drain to his feet. “What happened? Is it my mother?”

  “Er, no. She’ll be okay. It’s your son and his cousin Caroline. They’ve been taken.”

  “What?”

  “Can you get down here?” Dunne repeated. “Your mother needs you.”

  “Of course. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  Boone thumbed off the phone and turned to the stricken faces around him.

  Portia was the first to speak. “What happened? Did she have a car accident?”

  He took a deep, steadying breath. “No.”

  Grace nearly screamed the words at him. “What the hell happened, Boone? Don’t torture us.”

  “Sorry.” He reached for his keys on the rack near the door and took Portia’s hand. “The kids are missing. I don’t know the details, but Sheriff Dunne said someone took them.”

  Grace screamed, “NO!” and crumpled to the ground.

  Anderson lifted her in his arms and ran after Boone and Portia. “We’re riding with you.”

  “Right,” Boone said. “Anderson, call my father and brother. Have them meet us up there.”

  They piled into the truck and Boone floored it, causing a cloud of dust to drift into the air. It didn’t settle until they were out of sight.

  ∞∞∞

  Portia’s heart seemed to stop, and then took off in a rapid rhythm, pounding in her ears and chest. Her fingers curled into tight fists, nails digging into her skin.

  No. It’s impossible.

  Not my baby. My Joey.

  She heard Grace sobbing hysterically in the back seat of the extended cab with Anderson’s gentle voice trying to calm her.

  Boone’s hand snaked over to hers, squeezing it tight. “We’ll find them.”

  She nodded stiffly. “Of course.” Why wasn’t she crying? Why were her eyes dry? She wondered idly as the scenery whizzed past the window and Boone sped toward the town.

  Anderson’s soothing voice filled the cab, but she knew he was as frightened as she was. Sure, his Marine background had made him tough. But he loved that little baby girl more than life itself, and she could hear the tortured emotions rippling beneath his words.

  How could this have happened?

  Suddenly, it was as if the synapses in her brain snapped into clarity. Emotion swelled inside her, rising up like a tsunami, fiery hot in its intensity. She gripped the dashboard and lowered her head. Her throat filled with the scream, and it erupted in seconds, filling t
he cab with her desperate misery. “No!” The sobs came then, urgent and unstoppable.

  Chapter 19

  Anderson led Grace up the stairs of the office building to the modeling agency, where officials swarmed the hallway. There was no sign on the entrance with “Little Angels Modeling Agency.” And when he peered into the room, it looked deserted.

  It had been a set up from the beginning.

  His heart hammered hard beneath his ribs, and he barely trusted his voice.

  I can’t lose Caroline. Not my sweet little baby girl.

  Images of her laughing face and bobbing blonde curls filled his mind’s eye. What happened? Was she really kidnapped? And why would anyone want to kidnap two little kids from a family that collectively had no more than mountains of debt? They certainly didn’t have the funds to raise a ransom.

  It made no sense.

  Of course, from the outside, someone might see two big working farms and think they had lots of money. It was possible. Appearances could be very deceiving. The “richest” folks in town could be saddled with debt, barely making it through every month. You never knew.

  Tessie sat in a chair further down the hall, her head in her hands. With shaking shoulders, she cried relentlessly.

  Boone approached her, knelt beside her, and took her in his arms. “It’s okay, Mom. We’ll figure this out.”

  Orville and Ned joined them minutes later. Her husband patted her hand, and then turned to speak to Sheriff Dunne.

  Grace tensed beside Anderson, and he knew what she was thinking. She wanted to pull away from him, to run toward Tessie and to yell at her for losing their baby.

  As if to prove he was right, she lunged forward, yanking on his firm hold, hissing, “It’s her fault.”

  Thankfully, Tessie didn’t hear her. Anderson took her aside, leading her away from the Hawkes. “No, Grace. Don’t take it out on Tessie.”

  Grace collapsed against him, sobbing anew. “My baby! I want my little girl.”

  The sheriff summoned them all into a nearby insurance company office. Curious workers milled around the office, speaking in low voices.