“I know I messed up. I have to find her, I have to try to make things right again. Do you have any idea where she might go?” he asked.
Miesha shook her head. “She doesn’t have anyone here.”
“Well, she can’t just disappear; her life is here,” he said.
“Has anyone checked to see if she has been at work lately?” Fredrick asked.
“I went to her restaurant and talked with the manager. She was on the schedule for three days this week. She called in sick the first day, but never called in the other two days, she just didn’t show up,” Miesha said with concern.
“I don’t like this at all. Something is wrong, I can feel it,” Carlo mumbled.
Mia’s friends looked at Carlo with disbelief that he would say that. He was the cause of Mia disappearing. He had trampled her heart like a freight train bulldozing through a car parked on the tracks.
“Okay, fine, I know I caused this, but there’s no time for you to hate me. Let’s make sure she is okay and then you can despise me all you want,” he said, sternly.
“Could she be locked in her apartment?” Tania asked.
“If she is, she hasn’t left in four days. I’ve had someone round the clock watching her apartment,” Carlo mentioned.
Miesha sighed. “I have a key to her apartment. First thing in the morning, we are going there and letting ourselves in.”
“What time should we be there?” Carlo asked.
“Oh no, you’re not going. If there is something wrong, we will call you,” Miesha glared at Carlo.
Although he understood, he wanted to be there. He needed to know if she was okay—and until then, he knew he was not going to sleep. He nodded at the three of them and left the restaurant.
“Where are you, Mia?” Something was wrong. In another attempt to reach her, he typed a text message to her phone: Please let someone know you’re okay. She did not respond.
***
Miesha, Tania, and Fredrick met at Mia’s apartment the next morning. Fearful of what they might encounter, they knocked on the door several times. They hesitantly walked through the front door calling out to Mia, warning her that they were coming into her apartment. There was no response.
Tania and Fredrick held hands as Miesha led the way. “Mia, we are here to see if you’re okay,” she yelled before she walked through the threshold. The apartment was quiet.
“What in the hell is that smell?” Fredrick said moving closer to Tania. The rancid stench caused each of them to hesitate—wondering what the smell could be. Pirate ran up to the door, meowed several times before he ran off, and disappeared.
They moved through the rooms slowly, walking over items thrown on the floor. Once they did a clean sweep of the house and realized that Mia was not there, relief fell over the group. They assessed the situation, starting with the kitchen.
“Girls, all of this,” Fredrick said as he moved both hands around him and the area, “is simply disgusting.” He scrunched his nose.
The ingredients she had bought to make Carlo’s dinner lay spread out on the floor. The grated cheese had the start of fuzzy, green mold growing on it and the tomatoes had turned to mush. Glass and ceramic was shattered everywhere. The sink had an unused strainer and on the back burner of the stove sat expanded, stinky noodles in a pot.
The CD player in the living room kept repeating a classical number, and burnt-out candles had completely melted. The once-hot wax ran off the candle plates onto the wood furniture and down to the carpet. Two empty bottles of wine with one wine glass sat on the coffee table and a crumpled blanket lay bunched up in the corner of her couch.
Miesha walked around the small apartment, astonished. She knew how clean Mia kept her living space, and the sight before her was not a reflection of the Mia she knew. She carefully walked into Mia’s bedroom. On her bed lay an open first aid kit with its articles thrown out of their container. The linen cabinet was open. Miesha glanced in the closet and saw her large suitcase missing from her set of light blue suitcases. Her eyebrows drew together.
“Miesha, come here quick, you have to see this,” Tania yelled.
Miesha hesitated, searching the room for any other clues. When she walked out of Mia’s bedroom, Tania was holding a semi-folded piece of paper in one hand and Mia’s cell phone in her other.
“Where did you find those?” she asked, grabbing both items from Tania.
“They were both over here on the ground between the couch and the end table.”
Miesha sat down on the couch and began to read the letter. Her eyes scanned over each word, and when she cupped her hand over her mouth, Tania and Fredrick knew something was seriously wrong.
“This letter is from Kyle. According to the letter, James is planning a mass suicide Sunday morning. Kyle asked Mia to rescue them.” She looked at her friends with concern.
“So, where is Mia, then?” Fredrick asked, with his hands on his hips.
Miesha opened her cell phone and dialed the last number she had called. She was going to track down her best friend if it were the last thing she did.
“Bower Motel,” the woman answered.
“Can I have Mia Baker’s room, please?”
The receptionist put Miesha on hold. She came back within seconds, “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t have a guest by that name.”
“Can you try Christina Delaware?” Miesha asked.
“Yes, I will transfer you, hold on.”
When the phone rang repeatedly with no answer, Miesha hung up. She knew Mia would refuse to answer the phone if she had an agenda and did not want anyone to interfere. Well, they were going to interfere. “We’re going to Connecticut,” she said, putting the telephone and letter back on the living room end table.
Tania looked at her confused. “Who is Christina Delaware?”
“It’s a name that Mia used when I first took her off the streets. We had to keep her in hiding until some time went by. Once she was eighteen, she went back to her real name.”
Fredrick stopped putting dishes in hot soapy water and addressed the girls. “So you’re telling me that my little tulip is at a hotel somewhere, doing what?” he asked.
“Preparing to raid the Compound and rescue her family.” Miesha guessed. “How does she think she can do this alone?” she whispered to herself.
“I don’t know, but I can’t have my plum-bunny come home to this mess. Everyone help me and let’s get this place livable before we leave,” Fredrick requested while he started washing dishes again.
“You two go ahead. I need to make some phone calls before we leave. We are leaving today. If I know Mia, she will want the element of surprise and make her move tonight,” Miesha said, pulling out her cell phone, a pad of paper, and a pen.
Tania patted Fredrick on the back. “You’re a good friend, honey; I know Mia will appreciate this,” she started drying the washed dishes and together they worked on getting the place presentable.
***
Carlo stood at Mia’s landlord’s door with his badge in hand, waiting for him to answer. Finally, an old, white-haired man opened the front door to see what the ruckus was. Carlo flashed his badge and demanded that the man to let him into Mia’s apartment.
Carlo walked slowly through the front door. He refused to wait for her friends to tell him of her whereabouts. Being without her the previous week gave him clarity. If she would take him back, he would never let her go again. If she refused his apology then, he concluded that he would apologize until she accepted. He loved her, and without a doubt, she was the woman for him.
Carlo walked from room to room. Mia was not there, yet everything seemed to be in place. Then on the end table near the couch, he saw her cellular phone. Next to her phone was a folded up piece of paper. He opened the letter from Kyle and read each word. Then he sat down and read it again.
He knew Mia; Without a doubt, she would put herself in harm’s way for those she loved. She would try to rescue her family while risking her own life. A
nd he knew, she would not ask for help. He put his head in his hands to think over his next move. If anything ever happened to her, he would surely make someone pay.
Chapter Fourteen
Numb and unfeeling, Mia sat in complete darkness. Her head bowed, and her hands, clasped firmly in her lap, she spent four hours in one position, meditating for strength. No tears left for anyone, only her numb emotions remained.
She spent days crying over the losses that she had suffered in her life. From the loss of ten years without her family to the loss of the only man she had ever loved. She needed to bring the pieces of her life back together again. Those pieces, like a puzzle, were nothing alone; but once connected together, they created a beautiful picture—her life.
Somehow, in her mind, she thought the return of the urn would be a happy moment. She had always pictured the person who claimed the urn to be ecstatic and show gratitude toward her for keeping it safe all those years. In the wake of Carlo’s reaction, she realized what a silly, idealistic sixteen-year-old girl she had been.
She now understood the reality behind it all. He had every right to fester anger over the theft of something so precious. What was worse was not the anger, it was the disappointment and hurt that she had seen in his eyes. She would have given anything to take it all back and make his grief go away.
When he walked out of her apartment, leaving her with the stabbing pain of his harsh words, she had never felt so alone. She had no choice but to marinate in his words, leaving her with questions about her entire life, past and present. Although two days in bed left her further depressed, she could not stand the thought of going out in the world knowing he was out there too, just not with her.
Who was she? Did she run when things touched the tip of complicated? Did she fight for what she wanted? She started second-guessing who she was.
On those days after he left, she turned off her phone, closed the drapes, and lay on the couch. The same classical song that played the night he left played repeatedly. Two bottles of wine drowned her pain briefly, but when the alcohol wore off ,that same pain lingered. She thought of ways that the night could have been different, but at the end of each day, everything would have been the same.
She had dragged herself off the couch, put on sweats, and fetched her mail. Between the handful of bills was a letter from Kyle. She had just received a letter from him, why would she get another one. She ripped it open and slumped down on her couch, reading every word like she was starving for them. Because she was.
Then she read it again, and again. Fear mixed with adrenaline gave her strength and the motivation to come alive, leave the past in the past, and look toward the future. She was going to rescue her family . . . or die trying.
She had taken a quick shower, packed her suitcase with rescue necessities, and booked her hotel room in the city a couple miles from the Compound. She was on a mission, and no one was going to stop her. She bought a bus ticket and left.
Two days in the hotel room, she plotted her plan of attack. Now, while sitting on the bed in silence so profound that she could hear a spider crawl along the wall, she sat perfectly still. Prepared to die, prepared to live—either way, she was prepared.
The bellowing ring of the hotel phone in her room did not faze her. She was numb and emotionless, ready to fight the world and save her family. Kyle’s letter asked her to arrive at nine p.m. on Saturday night. She decided to attempt her rescue a day earlier. If someone did expect her, she would benefit from the element of surprise.
Mia stood up and stretched. She had already put on her black clothing and camouflage makeup under her eyes. Her black duffel bag sat on the table by the door; she threw it over her shoulder and left the hotel room.
She arrived at the Compound at nine-thirty at night. Her heart kept a steady pace and the clarity of her focused mind was ready. It was a surreal moment, standing outside the compound walls, ready to fight her way back into the Cult. She had promised Kyle that she would return when their parents were ready. They were ready, and she was there.
Mia had decided that, as soon as she rescued her family, she would contact the authorities to tell them of James’s plan of mass suicide. She didn’t want to call them before she rescued them for fear that her family would not get out alive. She didn’t want this to become another Jonestown. Or Waco.
On her knees, she reached into the duffel bag and pulled out a stun gun. She hid it in her side pants pocket. She grabbed a can of mace and slipped it into her bra. Then she reached into the bag and removed a .357 revolver. It felt solid in her hand, an extension of her. Shooting was a hobby she had picked up after she’d escaped in order to protect herself, even away from the Compound. She put it in her waistband behind her back.
On one knee, in the dirt, she took a single deep breath and exhaled slowly. She quietly tiptoed to the gate, pushed it open as far as it would extend, and put her leg through the slit. A sudden yank on her arm pulled her back outside the wall while a hand covered her mouth.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Miesha demanded, releasing her hand from Mia’s mouth.
Mia pushed her friend back, trying to get some distance between them. “Me? What in the hell are you doing here?”
“Stopping you from making a dangerous mistake.”
“Go away, Miesha! This is my family and it’s not your problem.”
“Don’t you dare tell me to go away! We do this together, or we don’t do it at all,” Miesha whispered loudly.
Mia pulled her farther away from the solid, metal door. Pulling her along the cinder-brick wall, she let her hand run along the cold brick to guide them through the darkness. “There’s a guard on the other side of this wall, or at least there used to be. I don’t want to take a chance of someone hearing us.”
“No one’s going to hear us through this massive concrete wall and that solid metal door.”
“Just in case. I don’t want anything to go wrong.”
“You don’t want anything to go wrong, but you’re about to force yourself through a slit in that metal door not knowing if the guard is standing right there?” Miesha asked sarcastically.
“I don’t have time to find out. I’m hoping nothing has changed.” Mia sounded exasperated.
“Mia, listen to you. You’re acting on full emotion here, rather than common sense. You know better than this, it’s a good way to get yourself killed.”
Mia sighed. “This is my family. I don’t have time or resources to find out who James has guarding this place.”
“You have the resources now.” Miesha pointed over at Dean and Marco, waiting to the side.
“What do you suggest?”
“How do people get in and out of here?” Miesha asked.
“People don’t usually go in and those that are in, don’t usually get out.”
“Okay, but supplies, how are those brought in?”
Mia did not know exactly how James brought the supplies into the Compound. The cinder-brick wall and solid, sheet metal door, with one slide-away window, were a deterrent to passersby and nosey individuals. Then, Mia thought of a plan that might actually work. “What if Dean and Marco pull up and honk? When the guard or guards open the gate, maybe they can bring them out towards the car and I can sneak in.”
“Sounds good, but what if they don’t open the gate?” Miesha asked.
“True, but as long as the guard slides open the window, one of the guys can look through and report back to us what they saw,” Mia stated.
“I think it might work. Let’s talk to the guys and make sure we think out all possible situations that could go wrong. I want them to be prepared.”
“Miesha,” Mia stopped her. “James is planning a mass suicide. I have to get them out tonight.”
“I know, I read the letter that Kyle sent.” Miesha rubbed her hand up and down Mia’s arm to comfort her.
“Carlo left me,” Mia randomly mentioned about Carlo. She needed to talk with someone, and talking with
Miesha, her best friend, gave her the strength to say it.
It took Miesha a few moments to respond. She could hear the pain in Mia’s voice, an emotionless pain.
“He didn’t leave you, damn it. He was angry and needed some space to clear his head. You stole the guy’s father’s ashes, for heaven’s sake. Can you imagine him telling his mom? ‘Mama, you aren’t going to believe this but I left Dad in the car and when I came back, he was gone!’”
It only took a second, and both Mia and Miesha started laughing. What Miesha said struck a chord with both of them and Mia fell to the ground, laughing so hard that she dragged Miesha with her. When they caught their breath, trying to stay quiet, Mia spoke openly.
The Mancini Saga (Book #1) I.O.U. Page 15
