by Willow Rose
“I have a lot to talk to God about,” he said determinedly.
Jason put on his Sunday clothes, took his aunt by the hand, and left the house where his father worked in his office, always on the phone, always busy, and never coming out for anything but to eat or rush off to work.
Judi was pleased that she was able to bring Jason to St. Mary’s Cathedral on 2nd Avenue. It had been her home church since she moved to Miami five years ago, and to her, there was no better place on Earth to be — especially since her sister died. This was where she felt the closest to her, and she wanted the boy to experience that too. She wanted him to know that his mother was fine, that she was in a better place now. It was a promise she had made to Michaela as soon as she got sick — to keep taking the boy to church and make sure he was raised in the faith. Michaela knew her husband would never take care of that since he never went to mass and didn’t believe in anything but making money and more of it.
“Do you really think Momma will hear me if I pray?” he asked as they parked the car and walked up to the cathedral.
Judi held the boy’s hand tightly in hers. She was worried about him and what would become of him now that Michaela wasn’t there anymore. Peter, his dad, had his own way of grieving, which mostly consisted of burying himself in work till he dropped. There was no room for the boy or his big grief and many questions. She had often thought about taking him in, asking Peter if the boy wouldn’t be better off at her house. She had no kids of her own and could take good care of him.
“That’s what I believe,” Judi said. “I think she’s with God now but that she’s also keeping a close eye on you, making sure you behave.”
She said the last part while tickling him gently in the side. The boy shrieked, then chuckled. His big eyes looked up at her.
“I miss her,” he said as they sat down in the pew.
She kissed the top of his head. “I know, sweetie. I know. I do too — every day. I miss her calling me; I miss drinking coffee with her. What do you miss?”
She had read that it was important to talk to children about their deceased parents. Where most people just stopped talking about them since it hurt too much, children had a natural desire to speak about them and keep the memory of them alive.
“I miss hearing her laugh,” he said after a second of thinking it over.
Judi smiled and nodded. “Yes, that’s what I miss the most too.”
Judi turned and looked behind her. The church was filling up slowly. A young girl sat down in front of them, and a couple came in after her and sat next to her.
What a nice family, Judi thought to herself sadly. She had never managed to have a family of her own, and her sister, who had, wouldn’t be around to experience her child growing up. It was indeed a sad world they lived in.
As mass started and she stood to her feet, Judi felt her eyes stinging. She chalked it up to her being an emotional mess. It wasn’t till her throat started to feel tight, and she could no longer breathe that she realized something was terribly wrong.
By then, it was too late.
Chapter 21
THEN
Angela was sitting on a mahogany stool in her kitchen. Her fifteen-thousand-square-foot, five-million-dollar home was tastefully decorated, overlooking the Intracoastal waters and the pool in the backyard. A series of photos of her with her teenage sons decorated the walls behind her. None of them was with her ex-husband, whom she had cut out of her life completely as soon as she ripped him of half of everything he owned after his affair with a woman from his gym.
A hairless cat sat in a bed, while the women in Angela’s kitchen indulged themselves in the vegan and gluten-free dishes sitting on the granite counter island.
Helen knew most of the women by now, after many meetings like these. She had read the book by Christopher Daniels five times and taken several of his self-help classes in the hope that she might improve her life. It was expensive but so worth it. And so far, she was feeling more empowered with every step she took — just like the book had told her she would. She was getting stronger and slowly changing what she believed about herself. She wanted to get rid of all her fears and become as powerful and self-reliant as she was able to.
“I don’t know how to explain it,” Helen said.
They had been asked to share their fears and phobias as a part of their evolvement. Helen was telling them about her fear of dogs.
“It’s like this choking sensation. I can’t breathe every time I see a dog. Even if it’s behind a fence, I just can’t breathe. It’s so devastating since I can’t go to visit friends who might have a dog in the house. It doesn’t matter what size it is or how sweet and friendly it is. I just can’t be near a dog.”
“It’s an emotional trigger,” Angela said. “Formed in your childhood. Can you remember ever being bitten by a dog? Or attacked by one?”
Helen shook her head. “No. That’s the problem. I don’t have any bad experiences with any dogs.”
“We need to dig deeper,” Angela said. “Explore the meaning of this trigger. It might be something more serious. Once you know what is really behind it, you can reduce the power it holds over you today.”
“But how?” Helen asked.
“Hypnosis,” Angela said. “Come.”
She told Helen to lie down on a mat in the middle of the living room while the rest of the women joined in a circle around her. Angela asked her to close her eyes, and in a stream of intimate questions, spoken in nearly a whisper, she asked her about everything from her first meeting with a dog, to her parents’ relationships. When they were done, she told Helen to open her eyes and sit up.
Helen felt dizzy and rubbed her forehead while Angela took her hand in hers.
“Your upbringing is what is causing this fear,” she said. “The dog represents your own fear of success, your fear of independence. When you meet an obstacle or hardship in life, you run away; you hide from it, thinking you can’t deal with it. Your parents have led you to believe that you can’t do anything on your own — that you are incapable of taking care of yourself without a man. Meanwhile, your mother had a terrible life, and you believe she was forced into that life by your father. Your mother was unable to become an independent woman and chose to be a victim in her own life. Do you want that, Helen? Do you want to be a helpless woman? Or do you want to take control of your life? Do you want to be in the driver’s seat of your own destiny?”
Helen stared at the woman in front of her, her childhood friend, and then at the women surrounding her. She had never thought about life in such a manner. The way they were teaching her was so different from anything she had ever encountered. Was it really true? Was she able to take control? All the things that had happened to her, the loss of ability to reproduce, the loss of her husband, the depression, was it all something she could get rid of? She had always gone running to her daddy when things went wrong in her life. What if she became the one person she relied on?
Helen closed her eyes and suddenly felt the tightness in her chest, which she usually felt all day, loosen. The anxiety that refused to let go of its tight grip daily was suddenly completely gone.
“How do you feel?” Angela asked.
Helen smiled. “I…I don’t know what happened, what you just did to me, but I feel good. I feel better than I have in many years.”
Angela smiled, and the surrounding women cheered.
“I think you’re ready for the next step,” she said, tears shaping in her eyes. “It’s time you meet Christopher Daniels. But beware. It’s a meeting that will change your life forever. We have all done it and it… well, you have to experience it to know just how life-altering it is. Are you ready for this?”
Helen didn’t even have to think about it twice. Reading his book and taking some of his self-help classes, she knew that this man was capable of changing lives for the better. She had felt it over the past few months.
“Are you kidding me? It’s my dream,” she said, tearing up. “I
would do anything to meet him. He’s my hero.”
Chapter 22
I woke up next to the computer, an almost empty bottle of wine next to me. My head was pounding, and my mouth felt dry.
Where am I?
I was still in the hotel room and had fallen asleep with my head on the desk. I had left the hotel the night before to go for a walk and clear my head; then on the way back, I had bought myself a bottle of red wine in a small food mart around the corner. I had wanted to drown my sadness and sedate the screaming voices in my head for at least a few hours, and I had succeeded. But now, they were back at full force, and I could add a thundering headache on top of it all. The anxiety was back, rushing through my veins, making me want to scream. The biggest question right now was how I was going to continue my search for Olivia without Sydney to pay for everything. I knew she had paid for the entire week for the room, so I was probably safe for a few days more, but then what? There really weren’t many places I could go now with my picture everywhere. I had been on all the screens in the small homes, with my name associated with the words: Dangerous fugitive. I had read each and every article I could find written about me last night.
What am I going to do?
I got up, then felt dizzy and had to hold onto the back of my chair. I then staggered to the bathroom and splashed water on my face. I glanced at my face in the mirror, barely recognizing myself.
You can’t do this alone.
I found my toothbrush, then rinsed the sour taste of red wine from my mouth and scrubbed the stains off my teeth. I spat, then looked at myself again, thinking it didn’t matter what I did. If I didn’t find my daughter, I was dead anyway.
You can’t go back, Eva Rae.
I walked back into the room and sat down on my bed, a new burner phone in my hand. I tapped the first few digits of Matt’s number, then paused and put the phone down.
No, I couldn’t involve him. It was too much to ask. He had a son to care for, and he couldn’t risk losing his entire career for me. I knew he would, and that was why I needed to keep him in the dark. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if he lost his job just because of me. I was a criminal, a fugitive on the run, and if he withheld information about my whereabouts or about me contacting him, then he would be in serious trouble. I couldn’t do that to him. I refused to.
I put the phone down with a sigh, then thought about my children, praying they were all right. Between my mother and Chad, I was certain they were doing fine; both Alex and Christine were probably in heaven for being with their dad again. I didn’t have to worry about them. I knew that much.
I found a painkiller in my bag and swallowed it with water, then laid down with my head on my pillow, waiting for it to kill that throbbing headache, when there was a knock on my door.
Chapter 23
“Sydney?”
I stared at my sister, standing in the hallway. She was holding her suitcase in one hand and her purse in the other. She rushed past me inside, and I closed the door behind her.
“What are you doing here?” I asked suspiciously.
“I came back,” she said. “I spent the night in another hotel close by, but then I saw your picture everywhere and realized I couldn’t just leave you. You need me.”
I crossed my arms in front of my chest.
“What I don’t need is your pity; thank you very much. I can take care of myself.”
She groaned. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
“I’m stubborn?” I asked.
She shook her head. “You know what? Never mind. I shouldn’t have come back. You obviously don’t want me here.”
Sydney grabbed the handle of her suitcase and was about to leave again when I stopped her.
“Yes, I do.”
She gave me a look.
“I need you terribly,” I said. “I can’t do this on my own.”
Sydney exhaled. She let go of the handle on her suitcase. “You have got to stop pushing me away. You do this to everyone you love. Matt, your mother, me. You have to stop it, Eva Rae. I’m here to help. Yet you treat me like dirt.”
“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. I’m just under a lot of pressure right now. It’s just… a lot.”
She nodded. “I know. I feel awful too for bringing that man into your life. There isn’t a day when I don’t beat myself up over it, when I don’t think back at all the alarm bells that should have gone off, at how blind I was for not seeing him for what he really was. And I am sorry, Eva Rae. I really am. But at some point, you have to forgive me.”
I nodded, feeling my eyes fill. “I will. I promise. I know it isn’t your fault; I just… well, blaming someone makes it easier to handle somehow. At least I thought it did, but it doesn’t anymore. It makes me miserable. Fact is, I can’t do this without you, Syd.”
She sniffled, then pulled me into a deep hug. “I hate that name.”
“I’m sorry. Kelly, then.”
She let go of me then looked into my eyes. “No, that seems odd coming from you. I think I like it better when you call me Sydney.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s kind of growing on me. It feels familiar somehow, homey, almost.”
I wiped a tear away with my sleeve. Sydney walked to the second bed and placed her suitcase on top of it.
“So… where are we? Any leads? That’s how they say it in the crime shows, right?”
I nodded and approached the laptop, then sat down on the bed with it in my lap.
“I found the symbol, the one that Ryan Scott talked about. I know what it is.”
Chapter 24
The owner of the food mart looked at him suspiciously from behind the counter when Matt showed him his badge.
“I’m looking for a woman, early forties, red hair, blue eyes, about five-five, a little on the chubby side, but in a cute way,” he said and showed him a photo of Eva Rae. Her eyes stared back at him from the counter, and his heart felt warm. All he wanted was to be with her again.
It was Chief Annie who had called this same morning and told him that Eva Rae had used her credit card the night before. They had someone from IT monitoring her activities, and last night, there had been action for the first time.
“I know she was in here last night,” Matt said. “She used her credit card at this terminal at nine forty-two.”
The cashier nodded. He was a small Indian man with a speech defect, so it was hard to understand what he said.
“Yes, yes. She was here. Bought a bottle of red wine and some gum.”
“Was she alone?” Matt asked. “Or did someone come in with her?”
“She was alone. Just her.”
“No one waiting for her at the door or outside, maybe?” he asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Did she come by car or walk here?”
“Walk. No car.”
“Okay,” Matt said and wrote it down on his pad. If she walked there, it could mean that she was staying somewhere close by.
“Did you see which way she went when she left? Did she turn right or left once outside of the door?” he asked.
“I did not see,” the man said, shaking his head while smiling in a friendly manner.
Matt lifted his glance and spotted a small camera in the corner under the ceiling.
“Could I take a look at that? From last night?”
“Yes, yes,” the man said and made way for Matt to come in behind the counter. He showed him into the back office, where a computer was placed on the desk. He tapped on it, clicked with the mouse, and the surveillance footage appeared.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
Matt sat down and pushed back the timeline to the night before. He stopped and started the video from when someone entered right before nine forty, wearing a hoodie covering their head. Pretty sure it was her, he then watched Eva Rae as she came in through the door and took a quick glance around before walking to the wine section and pick
ing out a bottle. As she did, she turned to face the camera before walking to the counter where she picked out a pack of gum. Knowing her, he knew it was probably because she didn’t want to look like an alcoholic.
Happy to see her again, Matt chuckled to himself and stopped the video right when she looked up at the camera from underneath her cap. He could almost see how she froze in place when realizing that she had been spotted.
“What are you up to now, Eva Rae?” he mumbled in the dark room. “When will this ever end? How is it going to end? You’re gonna get caught, and then what? Will you come willingly, or will they have to take you down? What’s your plan?”
Matt grabbed his phone, then took a video with his phone of the footage, running it all again, making sure he got everything down to the door closing behind her after she had paid.
Why did you use your credit card, Eva Rae? You know better than that. Was it just a moment of weakness?
“Did you get what you needed?” the man asked, and Matt nodded, then rolled the chair back in place.
“I did. Thank you very much.”
Matt left the store and walked into the parking lot, feeling worried. He was closer to her than ever in this search, yet he felt like she was slipping between his hands.
Matt hadn’t told Carter what he was doing this morning and, luckily, Carter hadn’t asked. He was too busy living through his fifteen seconds of fame, doing interviews with all the local TV stations, telling them about the dangerous fugitive that was on the loose in Miami, to even notice. Matt wasn’t going to tell him now either. He couldn’t risk Carter finding Eva Rae before he did.
Matt drove to the Miami-Dade Police Department. But as he reached the station, he was met by the sight of maybe fifty uniformed officers running out of the building, storming toward their cruisers, and driving off in a rush, sirens blaring.
