The Day I Lost You: A totally gripping psychological thriller

by Alex Sinclair

  “Okay,” I say, one hand on my clammy forehead. “I’ll answer your questions. Just give me some space, please.”

  Gus complies with a frown, but stays within a close enough distance to grab me if need be. He crosses both arms over his chest, like he is a school principal waiting for an explanation from a student caught doing the wrong thing.

  “I used to be married to Michael. We’re divorced now. I came to the building to retrieve something for our four-year-old daughter, Alice. We were heading up to the top floor when the elevator jammed just below level seven. The doors partially opened, and my little girl got scared and ran off through the small gap.”

  “You’re the mother whose kid has gone missing?”

  “It’s more complicated than that,” I say.

  “What do you mean?”

  I let out a sigh and begin to tell him everything. I don’t know what it is about Gus, but I feel compelled to confess to him what has happened today with Alice, Michael, and Alan. I explain that I am trying to find Desmond before he escapes. I also tell him about Henry and the delay he created in getting the police involved. It’s a lot to understand and absorb on a good day, but Gus seems to take it all in without freaking out.

  “So that’s everything. Happy?”

  “No,” he says. “You’ve just made my crappy day way more complicated than it needs to be.”

  I slump down into myself and lower my head. I have let the burdens of my life come spewing out. I’ve unloaded too much at once. Gus won’t believe me and will have no choice but to have me removed from the building. I can’t say I blame him. I probably sound nuts.

  “Are you going to kick me out?” I ask.

  “Not a chance. I have a few kids of my own. I lost one of them for a few hours in Central Park one afternoon. It was the worst day of my life. I know a little bit about what you’re going through, kidnapping conspiracies about your ex-husband aside. So, what are you waiting for?”

  I raise my head. “What do you mean?”

  “Why are you still up here when Desmond is somewhere in this building?”

  “I thought that—”

  “That I wouldn’t believe you? I probably shouldn’t, but there’s always been something about Desmond that gives me the creeps. He’s an extremely private person. Alan doesn’t seem the sort who would get involved in something like this, but then again, I had no idea he was Desmond’s father. I guess I never really knew Alan’s surname to begin with, or I’d forgotten it. He was in charge here before I came along. He must have had some pull with the company to be able to hire his son like that. This explains so much.”

  A glimmer of hope hits me. “Really? Like what?”

  “Hard to put it into words,” Gus says, as he runs his fingers over his thin mustache. “Desmond doesn’t really talk to you when you say hello or ask how his day is going. He never comes out of his apartment that often, except to work. He looks broken on the inside or something. I often suspected he might have done some time.”

  “So you worked it out. How long have you thought that he might be an ex-con?”

  “A few months. Desmond has only been on the job for half a year. He struck me as odd on day one.”

  “Okay,” I say, as I nod my head and pace around. “So where would he hide a little girl in this building?”

  Gus frowns in thought. “I’ve already searched the corridors of every floor, as Henry requested, but there are some empty apartments on seven.”

  “I think he was headed there, but I scared him back up the building. What else?”

  “If he’s not in an apartment, there’s some crawl space behind the elevator shaft on every level. If he managed to go back down, there’s also the garage. It’s small, but it has a storage room.”

  I breathe out loud with a huff. “That’s a lot of places. I’ll try the elevator crawl space first.” I turn around and place one hand on the door handle.

  “Wait, you can’t just run off like that. This guy is dangerous. He’s an ex-con who may have agreed to kidnap a little girl.”

  “I know he’s dangerous. Like I said, I’ve already chased him once today. I am prepared to throw myself in harm’s way to get my little girl back in one piece. You can’t stop me from going after him.”

  “Okay, okay,” he says, palms raised. “But I’m coming with you. You don’t even know how to access the crawl space. Plus, if Desmond were to harm anyone on my watch, there’s no way I could live with myself.”

  I turn back to Gus and stare into his eyes for a moment. “Thank you. This means a lot to me. You have no idea what I’ve been through today.”

  “Hey, I get it. I know I’d do anything to help one of my kids. Come on,” Gus says, as he moves past me and opens the flimsy door that leads back inside. “We’ve got an asshole to catch.”

  I take one last look around the roof and feel a shudder run down my spine before I go back through the door. I should feel happy that I now have the help of someone with maintenance knowledge of the building, but the memories of the roof have me on edge.

  The feeling doesn’t go until the door closes behind me.

  Twenty-Nine

  Gus leads the way from the roof of the building and down through to a narrow service tunnel that leads to the elevators, and I follow a few paces behind, silently praying that he can help me find Desmond in this awful place. His desire to get involved in my problem seems legitimate enough, and hopefully having a man from maintenance on my side will help me track down where Desmond is keeping Alice.

  My mind flicks to Michael and where he is hiding today. I’d imagine he scheduled a client at the office to give himself the perfect alibi for the day. He is just waiting for me to fail to find Alice so he can show up and produce her to the authorities like some sort of heroic father. I won’t let that happen.

  I wonder if Desmond realizes that Michael will burn him the first chance he gets. I can picture it all now. Michael pretends to hear about the kidnapping for the first time. He searches the building frantically and finds Desmond. He produces his co-conspirator to the police, explaining how he found the ex-con holding his daughter hostage. The cops arrest Desmond while Michael emerges victorious. I feel sick thinking about it.

  Gus clears his throat. “I’ve been in this job for three years now and in the industry for about ten. Never had to help anyone find their kidnapped girl before.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say to Gus. I don’t know what else to tell him.

  “Don’t be. This isn’t your doing. It’s the work of the devil, if you ask me. I don’t know how else people can do things like this.” He turns back to me in the narrow space. “Do you believe in God, Erika?”

  I notice Gus is rubbing a crucifix that has come out from his coveralls. “I used to, once upon a time, but life showed me that God couldn’t be real. Why else would things fall apart the way they do?”

  He purses his lips. “I get where you’re coming from. God tested me that day in the park. But when I found my little one safe and sound, I knew it was because of Him.”

  I nod and don’t give Gus another word. I turn my head and let out a sigh of frustration. I went to church as a child and believed in God for the longest time. My loss of faith came about after the demise of my marriage with Michael. After that, no one can ever convince me that our lives mean anything to a holy deity in the sky. Now, I only have faith in my daughter and the love I hold for her.

  We come through a section of the service tunnel I didn’t know existed and out behind the elevator shaft. There is a metal walkway, which must allow maintenance workers to access the elevator from each floor. We are currently on level fourteen, and we’ll need to check every floor, one by one, to do this right.

  I peek down through the grate to see if I can spot Desmond or Alice, but it’s too hard to spy beyond the next level below.

  “I can climb down from here using a ladder that goes between floors, if you’d like, and check out every section,” Gus says.

  I sn
ap my eyes to him. “Won’t he hear you coming, though? We’ve made enough noise as it is.”

  Gus scratches at his chin. “That’s a good point. My best bet will be to go down each floor of the building and approach the sections from the side.”

  Before I agree and encourage the man to help me, I realize how dangerous this idea could be for him. I have to say something. “Gus, wait. Desmond might be armed. He’s an ex-con, as you know, and might know how to get a weapon off the street.”

  Gus rubs at his chin. “You’re right. I guess we really need the police here.”

  “They’re on their way. Hopefully they’ll get here soon.”

  I turn away from Gus. We’ve hit another dead end. There’s still the garage storage to be searched, along with any empty apartments, but I realize those areas also have the same problem: Desmond. If he is waiting for us with a weapon in hand, he’ll attack the first one through the door. That’s when my last desperate idea floods my brain. It’s a stupid one, but it’s all I have.

  “I’m going down,” I say to Gus.

  “I thought you said it was too noisy? And dangerous.”

  “It is dangerous—for you. Not for me. Desmond can assault me however he sees fit. It won’t stop me from trying to find Alice. If you follow behind at a safe distance, you can see where he is if he attacks me.”

  “You can’t be serious?” Gus asks.

  I nod without breaking my gaze. “You said yourself that you’d do anything for your kids. I’m no different.”

  Gus shakes his head. “I don’t like it, but I understand. And I won’t let you do this alone.”

  I’m amazed that he would do this for me. Is it even possible for someone to be this nice? Does his faith compel him to risk his own life in order to help others? All the faith in the world won’t save Alice if Desmond takes me out, but I have no other choice.

  “We can’t both go in headfirst,” I say. “You need to be able to report Desmond to the police and get help to Alice if things go wrong. We can’t both draw him out from the shadows.”

  Gus nods and runs his fingers through what’s left of his hair. “Okay. You are one brave lady.”

  “I’m not,” I say. “I’m just a mom who’s had to fight the world on her own to survive.”

  Thirty

  Then

  Alice had just hit the three-month mark. It was a significant milestone for a newborn to survive those first dangerous months of existence. Never was there a higher chance of her falling asleep and never waking up again. The thought kept me awake most of the time.

  Her sleeping problem sorted itself out once I got my act together and ignored everything Michael’s doctor said to me. I started my Bunny on a better routine and she fell into line almost instantly. By two months, she was sleeping the way she was meant to, for around sixteen hours per day with little effort. It was like someone had flicked a switch in Alice’s brain, and now she understood what she needed to do when I put her down in her bassinet, all wrapped up. I couldn’t have been more relieved to be able to get in some rest of my own whenever Alice went down for a nap.

  Michael was still busy working most days. He’d only show his face to spend time with his daughter or to say goodbye to her before he left for work. He’d stand over the bassinet and place his hand down beside Alice. He’d stare at her with a look in his eyes that made me feel invisible. Throughout the day, he’d text me to check up on things. He didn’t work the depression angle anymore. Instead, he made it clear that he didn’t trust I could care for our daughter.

  Later, he’d come home at some awful hour and say goodnight to Alice in the same loving manner. Then he’d move around the apartment as if I didn’t exist.

  Our relationship was never going to recover from the damage it had sustained. There were too many unrepairable hairline cracks through its core—some visible, some buried beneath the layers. At that point, we were not husband and wife. We were not a mother and a father. We were two people who shared an apartment and cared for a newborn.

  I had managed to move Alice’s bassinet back to the main bedroom. I liked to keep her nearby when I slept so I could be there the second she woke up. Michael slept in one of the other bedrooms and would only come into mine to get a look at Alice. He was checking up on my ability to look after our child. I shouldn’t have been surprised by his lack of faith. He had micromanaged the pregnancy to the point I felt more stressed out by him than anything else. The worst part was that he was oblivious to the effect his behavior had on me. Then, on top of everything else, he tried to blame me for what happened at her birth. Up until then, he hadn’t said a word about it. He had just judged me with his cold eyes.

  Our new sleeping arrangements drastically reduced the amount of time I saw him, to the point where it felt like days went by between words. I virtually had no husband. How long could things continue on that path?

  It was late morning, and Alice had just finished her feed and was about to go down for a nap after burping. In the bedroom, I prepared her for sleep in a stretchy green wrap that would hold her arms in place so I could put her down on her back. She was yet to try and roll over, and seemed happy to have her arms crossed over her body while she slept.

  I decided to quickly duck out to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat to keep my energy levels up. I heard Michael out in the living area, saying my name to another person. I spotted him a moment later in the lounge with a guest. They both turned to me the second I came into view. I froze on the spot.

  “Hello,” Michael said to me, his voice low and uninviting.

  “Hi,” I replied. That was the extent of most of our interactions—on a good day. “Don’t mind me,” I said, as I continued to walk toward the kitchen, allowing the two busy men to continue their discussion. Why my name had come up at all was none of my concern. I figured the man was a client and Michael was trying to pretend he had a happy family at home.

  “Actually, Erika, I was hoping you had a moment to meet my friend here,” Michael said.

  What now? I stopped halfway to the kitchen and turned to face our guest. He was a balding man in his late forties with a pair of round glasses perched low upon his nose. The man stood and walked toward me with an extended hand.

  I took a few cautious steps toward him and held out my hand. He gripped it gently and introduced himself.

  “Donnie Preston,” he said.

  “Erika Walls,” I replied.

  A moment of awkward silence filled the gap between us. I had no idea who he was or why Michael wanted me to meet him.

  “And how is Bunny doing?” he asked.

  I paused for a brief second. I didn’t like the fact that Michael had shared Alice’s nickname with this stranger. I don’t know why, but that hurt me more than Michael ignoring me for days on end. “She’s just gone down for her nap. Are you one of Michael’s clients?”

  Michael scoffed in the background, apparently unimpressed with my attitude. I didn’t care, though. I didn’t have the motivation or patience to meet one of the criminal clients that Michael was paid a ridiculous sum of money to represent. This guy didn’t look the sort to have committed anything too serious, but looks could be deceiving.

  “I’m not one of his clients. I’m a friend.”

  He looked too old to be a friend. All I could imagine was that this man had some important connection Michael wanted to exploit.

  “Well then, pleased to meet you, Donnie,” I said. “If you don’t mind, I’ve got some food waiting to be eaten in the kitchen. I only have about an hour and a half before Bunny is up again.” I walked away from Donnie, not caring if I was a rude host or not. I didn’t invite him here. He was not my guest to entertain.

  “Erika,” Michael snapped.

  I directed my eyes at him with a scowl. I didn’t appreciate being spoken to in such a way. “What?”

  He took a moment to catch his breath and compose himself. “Why don’t you sit down and join us?”

  “I really just want to eat.
I don’t mean to be rude, but—”

  “Erika, please. Just for a minute.”

  I huffed and pouted like a child, stomped toward the lounge, and threw myself down in one of the free armchairs. I didn’t want to sit near Michael. Even the sight of him made me angry. It wasn’t how a wife should feel about her husband, but I was confident Michael felt the same about me.

  “I’m here. What is it you want to discuss?”

  Donnie took the lead. “I haven’t exactly been honest with you, Erika. When I told you my name, I neglected to tell you that I am a doctor.”

  “What? Like from a hospital?” I didn’t want to hear more of Michael’s BS about depression.

  “Not exactly. I specialize in counseling and couples’ therapy.”

  My eyes almost popped out of my head. Had Michael just sprung a therapy session on me? It was no secret we were having problems, but why didn’t he discuss the idea with me first?

  “Couples’ therapy?” I asked. It was too little, too late, as far as I was concerned.

  “I’m sorry,” Michael said, “but it was going to be too hard to go anywhere with, you know—”

  “With our baby?”

  Michael held his head in his hands. “You don’t have to say it like that, but yes, we can’t go anywhere at the moment.”

  “Well, I’m so sorry we are such an inconvenience to you, Michael.”

  Michael went to reply, but the doctor chimed in. “Erika, please. Michael has come to me with concerns about you and your relationship with him. If you could try and keep an open mind throughout and let him say his piece, we’ll get through this a lot more smoothly.”

  I shook my head and stayed quiet. I wanted to yell at them both, but I didn’t want to wake Alice. I slumped down and crossed my arms tightly over my chest. This was not how I had planned to utilize Bunny’s naptime.

  “Shall we begin?” Donnie asked. He glanced at Michael and then me and back again. Michael said yes. I gave them both a shrug. It was the best they were going to get.