by Willow Rose
“STAND BACK!”
Sgt. Mason obeyed and got out of my way while I reached the main floor, then ran through the house, the girl tightly clutched in my arms. I was screaming violently in fear and to get people to move out of my way. I stormed into the yard and, just as I was about to put her down on the grass, I heard a sound come from inside of her abdomen.
In that second, I knew it was too late.
Chapter 76
I woke up to the delightful sound of my children fighting. Usually, it wouldn’t make me smile, but on this day, it did.
“You’re such a moron, Alex.”
“You’re a moron.”
“Stop copying me.”
“Stop copying me.”
“Grandma? Alex is being annoying…again.”
I blinked my eyes to make sure I was seeing things right. I was. Christine and Alex were standing right next to my bed, engaged in a heated quarrel.
“I think Mom’s awake,” I heard Olivia say. Then she approached me, and I saw her pretty face. “Mom? Are you awake? Mom?”
I smiled, but it hurt, so I stopped. “Where am I?”
The children surrounded me, their beautiful faces staring at me. My mother came up behind them.
“Ah, thank God, Eva Rae. We were so worried. The doctor said you’d wake up, but it took forever.”
Is she seriously blaming me for being unconscious too long?
“I’m so glad you’re awake, Mommy,” Alex said.
“Me too,” Christine said as the two of them fought about the space and who stood in front. Alex elbowed his way in front of her, and she pushed him back. Olivia rolled her eyes at them.
“Could you two lay off it for at least one second so Mom can wake up? She almost died. Geez.”
“Where’s Matt?” I asked, slowly remembering what had happened. Anxiety spread quickly through my veins. “Why isn’t he here?”
My mom came closer. Her eyes looked sad and, in the few seconds before she spoke, I imagined a thousand scenarios, and none of them had Matt being alive.
“Mom?”
“Easy there,” she said when I tried to sit up. “Don’t get agitated. Christ, you were in an explosion, for crying out loud.”
“Where is Matt? Please, tell me.”
“Matt is fine. He just went out for coffee. He’s been here the past twenty-four hours while you were out.”
“And, of course, you wake up the moment I leave my post to get some coffee.”
Matt’s soft voice filled the room, and I felt myself relax again. He handed my mom a cup and kept the other one to himself, then sat on the edge of my bed. Christine and Alex started fighting again, and my mom told them that she’d take them to the vending machines to get some of that junk-food you seem to enjoy so much. The kids forgot their quarrels, cheered, and left with her.
Matt smiled and held my hand in his, then kissed the top of it. “Boy, am I glad to see those eyes again. How are you feeling?”
“My vision is a little blurry, and I have this ringing in my ears,” I said. “I’m not in any pain, though, but I assume that has to do with the number of painkillers I’m on right now, am I right?”
Matt nodded. “The doctor said your vision and hearing might be affected for a little while, but it should normalize. You also have a concussion and burn marks on your legs and abdomen. Because of the blast and the pressure that your body endured, you might experience chest pain, and it might have damaged your lungs and central nervous system, but it’s too early to tell, they say.”
I smiled, then grew serious again. “What happened, Matt?”
“It went off. The bomb went off inside of her,” he said. “Luckily, it seemed that the fact that it was inside of the girl sheltered you a little, but you were pretty terribly hurt; luckily, it was mostly superficial. It was an improvised bomb and a low-order explosive, they say. It would have been a lot worse if it had gone off inside the small bunker, though, and we would probably both have been dead. I was right behind you when it happened and I just…saw you be slung through the air. There was blood and tissue everywhere; I’ll spare you the details, but luckily, it was mostly hers.”
“So…she died?”
Matt nodded. He sent me a caring smile as I felt the tears fill up my eyes again. I couldn’t hold them back, and soon they ran down my cheeks so fast I began to hyperventilate.
This was just too cruel.
Matt squeezed my hand tightly, stifling tears of his own. “You did your best. I know you wanted to save her; we both did, but it was impossible. You must understand this, Eva Rae. There was nothing you could have done differently. She would have died anyway. I spoke to a doctor about it, and he said she wouldn’t have survived even if it hadn’t gone off.”
“I had her, Matt. I had her in my arms. We made it outside. We were so close.”
“There was nothing you could have done differently,” he said again and touched my hair gently. “Nothing.”
“This is just too much.”
He sighed. “I know; I know.”
“Are we at least anywhere closer to finding this guy?” I asked, pressing back tears while beginning to feel tired, but staying awake due to the anger rising in me. I hated this guy. I truly hated this person. I wanted him dead for what he had done. I wanted him to be in pain just like I was in such deep pain right now.
“As a matter of fact, yes. The house is registered in the name of an Anthony Piatkowski. We haven’t been able to locate him and believe he is in hiding. But we are pulling his driver’s license from the DMV and are going to send the picture out to the press as soon as we have it. We found all his explosives in the garage, where we assume he made the bombs.”
“Piatkowski, huh? I feel like I’ve heard that name before.”
“He’s new to the area. Bought the house five months ago. But get this, he’s military. Two trips to Camp Marmal, Afghanistan. Enlisted in the navy right after high school and became an EOD. He was one of the most skilled recruits they ever had, they said when we spoke to them at Eglin Air Force Base, which hosts the Naval Explosive Ordnance Disposal School. His engineering skills were out of this world, they said.”
“EOD, huh? An Explosive Ordnance Disposal technician,” I said. “The people trained to safely disable explosive ordnance, improvised explosives, and weapons of mass destruction. That makes sense. He knows everything there is to know about explosives. But that name, though. It’s not an ordinary name.”
“Do you make a connection?” Matt said.
“I thought I did, but then I lost it. I can’t think,” I said. “I’m too tired and too sedated.”
I closed my eyes, thinking about Tara’s poor mother and what she had to go through now when my kids returned, and I bit back my tears.
“It is,” Olivia said, addressed to Christine.
“Is not,” Christine said.
They were holding candy bars from the vending machine. Alex had already opened his and had chocolate smeared on all his fingers and cheeks. Olivia had chosen a granola bar.
“Isn’t it true that a granola bar is healthier than a chocolate bar?” Olivia asked me. “Christine says it is the same.”
I felt so tired; I could only muster a weak smile. I didn’t care that they were constantly fighting. These kids were mine, and they were all still alive. That was all that counted right now.
“It is not. There is just as much sugar in a granola bar as in a chocolate bar. Look for yourself. Tell her, Mom,” Christine said.
“I don’t know anything about it. Why is this so important right now?” I asked, almost dozing off, but fighting it. I wanted to be with my loved ones for a little while longer.
“Because Olivia wants to be skinny, so she can be a model,” Christine said, dragging the word out in the end.
“Okay,” I said, my eyelids growing heavier still.
“But, Mo-om, she’s not even tall enough. Tell her she isn’t tall enough. You have to be like five-ten at least.”
&n
bsp; “That’s not true,” Olivia complained. “Ugh, why do you keep saying that? Why do you even care, you little twit?”
I wasn’t listening anymore; I was simply dozing off to the sweet sound of my beloved family, and soon, I was completely lost in the land of my dreams.
THEN:
“What is she doing here?”
Sánchez looked at his wife, María, a surprised look on his face as she entered the interrogation room, followed by Gary’s supervisor, Peterson.
“Why did you bring her in here?”
María sat down and reached her hands across the metal table. Sánchez’s handcuffs clanked against the tabletop where they were strapped down.
“Honey, sweetie,” María said, tilting her head with a sniffle.
Sánchez became stiff. The smile on his face froze.
“Why is she here?” he repeated, even angrier than the first time.
“Diego,” she said. “Look at me.”
He did as she told him to.
“Did you kidnap that baby?”
He pulled his hands out of hers.
“Why do you ask me this?”
María sobbed, then wiped her eyes on her sleeve before she continued. “If you took the baby, you need to tell them where he is. This is an infant who needs to be with his mother. He needs to be fed; he needs care all hours of the day and night. You are a father; you know this. Think if it was Miguel or Juana this happened to.”
Sánchez stared at her, his eyes flickering back and forth.
“Get her out of here,” he said. “I don’t want her here.”
“Please, Diego. You have to tell them where he is.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Please.”
Sánchez slammed his fists onto the metal table. “Shut up. Just shut up, will you?”
“There’s a mother out there, Diego. And she is missing her child. If you did this and I was the mother, I would want to know where that child was. Please, tell them.”
It was working. They could tell it was. His wife María could get to him like no one else. For the first time, he felt pushed up against the wall; for the first time, he seemed stressed out. Just the way you want him to be, just the way they usually are right before they break down and spill.
Sánchez’s nostrils were flaring. He was getting upset now. This was a good sign.
“Diego, please.”
“GET HER OUT!”
He rose to his feet, the chains restraining him, growling in anger. María started to cry, and Peterson put a hand on her shoulder. And that was when it happened.
Sánchez finally broke down.
“I’ll tell. I’ll tell you everything. I’ll even take you to find the boy. But get her out of here. I don’t want her to hear. Get her OUT!”
Chapter 77
It was in the late afternoon the next day. I opened my eyes with a loud gasp. The room was empty; everyone was gone, the blinds closed, leaving the room in darkness.
“Olivia,” I said, feeling out of breath.
I lay still in the darkness, staring at the ceiling above, a million thoughts rushing through my head. Was it something I had dreamt? Where did this sensation come from? This feeling that something was terribly wrong?
It was something she said.
I sat up, thinking about what the girls had talked about when visiting. Olivia spoke about becoming a model. She had never talked about that before, ever.
Why now?
I grabbed my phone and called her.
She didn’t pick up.
I put the phone down on the table next to me with a sigh.
She’s busy—probably volleyball practice or maybe hanging out with her friends. Not everything is a disaster waiting to happen.
Yet, that was how I felt. Like a catastrophe was right around the corner, just waiting for me to discover it.
I couldn’t leave it alone. The feeling was eating me up. I grabbed my phone again and called Matt. I got his voicemail. Angry, I put the phone down again, then lay still in my bed, wondering.
Why now suddenly? Why all the talk about becoming a model?
I exhaled, telling myself I needed to relax, that I couldn’t do anything about it now, that Olivia was fine. She had probably been in school all day, and now she was hanging out with her friends. This was perfectly normal.
I grabbed the phone again, then looked at Mappen, the tracking app I used to keep an eye on my kids. The map showed that she was at Marylin’s, the new diner downtown that served milkshakes and burgers. There was nothing odd about that. That was a usual hangout for the teenagers of Cocoa Beach.
But today is Thursday. She has FSA-testing tomorrow and should be at home studying.
The thought made me sit up and sling my legs over the side of the bed. I stared at the map for a few more seconds and realized it wasn’t moving at all.
Had she gone there with some friends? Were they eating and maybe studying together?
Yes, that had to be it. Olivia was very determined to do well in school. She would never put her friends above an important test.
I lay my head back down and relaxed. Olivia was fine. I closed my eyes, trying to get some more sleep, but after fifteen minutes or so, I sat back up and tried to call her again.
Still, no answer.
I tried once more, and suddenly someone picked up.
Oh, thank God.
“Olivia? Olivia?”
“Who’s this?” an unknown voice said.
My heart dropped.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“I’m Martha. I found this phone. I work at the diner and was taking out the trash when I heard it ring.”
My eyes grew wide, and my heart started to pound. “The trash?”
“Yeah, the dumpster behind Marylin’s. It was right on top. Is it your phone?”
“It’s my daughter’s. Please, hold onto it. I’ll send someone to pick it up.”
Chapter 78
Boomer looked at the girl on the bed. She was completely out, heavily sedated, and wouldn’t move a muscle for the next several hours. He felt satisfied with this. Taking her had been one of the easiest tasks he had ever performed. She was the one who had contacted him. He didn’t even have to write to her like he did those other girls using the photographer’s account. He had told her to meet him after school in the parking lot by the new diner, Marylin’s, and to bring six sets of clothes for the photoshoot. That last part was just to make it sound legit. As soon as she had approached him in the parking lot behind the diner and hugged him, he had told her to get into the car, and he’d drive her to the photographer that he knew, who would take the photos. Believing him—yes, she was that gullible—she had gotten in, and he had placed the syringe in her thigh and emptied its contents while holding her mouth so she couldn’t scream. Minutes later, she was out, and he could grab her phone and throw it in the trash, knowing how easy those things were to track, just like he was very good at hiding his tracks online.
Boomer was self-taught at hacking but had been helped on his way when hanging out with one of his buddies in Afghanistan. The many long hours at the camp, waiting for a job, they had spent on computers, learning how to hack into any secure system and how to hide their tracks. It was a skill he believed he would get a lot of use out of later, and he had been right.
He had gotten the name Boomer because of the mushrooms he liked to eat that were also called boomers while hanging out under the trees at the camp. They helped him endure those long hours of nothing to do while waiting to be called out to disarming the next IED. It was a job not just anyone could do.
In a combat zone such as Afghanistan, EODs are everyone’s friend. They were the ones to call when an explosive threat was found, and Boomer was an expert at eliminating that danger.
But some guys that Boomer went to school with got hurt while out there. And that hit him hard. It was tough not to think, That could have been me. I could have been that person out the
re. Doing what he did kept him constantly close to that threat. It didn’t make for an easy return to the civilized world.
He had dreamt of becoming an EOD since he was just a child because his father had been one too. Once he joined the Navy, that was all that was on his mind—making his dad proud.
Chapter 79
Matt still didn’t pick up the phone, and I was getting more and more anxious. I even called the station and told them to have Matt or Chief Annie call me back as soon as possible.
Then I decided I couldn’t just lie there in my bed and do nothing. Something was wrong with my daughter, and I had to act. Now.
So, I rushed out of my room without being seen and asked for an Uber to pick me up at the hospital entrance. I asked the driver to take me home and ran up to the entrance and walked inside.
“Olivia?”
My mom came out of the kitchen, wearing an apron, wiping her hands on it.
“Eva Rae? What on Earth…?”
“Mom, where’s Olivia?”
My mother looked confused. “She said she was going out with her friends after school. They were going to Marilyn’s, that new place. I told her I hoped she wouldn’t eat any of the greasy food they have there, but…”
“Mom, I think something terrible happened to her.”
“Why…why…I took her to school. She’s been absent for two days, so I figured it was best she at least showed her face today. Finals are coming up and…”
“Someone threw her phone in the trash behind Marylin’s,” I said. “When I called it, a woman who worked there picked up.”
“But…surely…Are you sure she’s not…I mean…listen, Eva Rae. You’re on a lot of drugs right now; you’re not thinking clearly. Maybe you’re hallucinating. Could it have been a dream?”
“No, Mom. I am not hallucinating. I know something happened to my daughter,” I said and rushed up the stairs to her room.
I rushed inside, calling her name, but as expected, her room was empty. I sat at her computer and opened her social media accounts, beginning with Instagram, which she used the most. Not finding anything, I went through her Snapchat account, then WhatsApp, Amino, Twitter, and even her Facebook, which I knew she never used.
