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All His Pretty Girls

Page 21

by All His Pretty Girls (retail) (epub)


  ‘Hey, man. I’m real sorry, but that was one of the officers at the hospital. They’re transferring your mom somewhere else, but they haven’t been told where yet. Your dad wanted to know if you could just hang out with me until he finds out. Real sorry, kid; I know you want to be with your mom more than me.’

  Isaac jerked his head as if he’d been slapped. ‘Can you call that officer back so I can talk to my dad and at least see how my mom’s doing?’ His voice trembled with nerves.

  ‘Aw, man. I’m sorry, but your dad’s busy trying to find out where your mom’s being taken. Officer Dante said to tell you your dad would call as soon as your sister brought his phone to him and as soon as he knew something concrete.’

  ‘Holly’s getting my dad’s phone? I thought she was at the hospital already.’

  ‘I guess your mom’s partner called and asked her to swing by your dad’s office to grab his phone for him.’

  ‘Dad won’t know I don’t have my phone with me; I should’ve just grabbed it. It would’ve only taken a few seconds,’ Isaac muttered before he nervously began biting his lips and fidgeting in his seat, his hands and feet tapping in sync. A few seconds later he asked, ‘Can I call my sister then?’

  ‘I’m afraid she’s stuck in the traffic jam caused by your mom’s accident. And you know it’s illegal to be on the phone and drive.’

  ‘She won’t be,’ Isaac said. ‘She has Bluetooth, so she just has to push a button on her radio.’

  Officer Pobiv reached over and touched the boy lightly on the shoulder. ‘I know you’re worried about your mom; so am I. As soon as I can make it happen, I’ll make sure you get ahold of your dad or sister or someone close to the situation. Okay?’

  He waited for Isaac to nod before removing his hand from his shoulder.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Wednesday, April 3

  Dog-tired from slamming into brick wall after brick wall trying to determine the whereabouts of Hunter Jenkins, Alyssa dragged herself through the door, hung her jacket on the coatrack, and toed off her shoes. The house was unusually quiet, and she wondered where everyone was. In the kitchen, she tossed the McCormick file onto the table, set her phone and keys down, and finally removed her gun. Her back and neck hurt from being hunched over evidence folders all day. The throbbing behind her eyes told her a migraine was a strong possibility. As a matter of prevention, she headed to the medicine cabinet. The doctors told her the kind of pain reliever that worked best for her type of migraine contained caffeine. Go figure.

  Though the wine begged for attention, she opted for iced tea instead. Opening the freezer, she mulled over choices for dinner. Nothing appealing jumped out at her, so she tried the pantry only to return to the freezer as if the contents might have suddenly changed, and inspiration would hit her. Julia Childs she was not, so she finally opted for some chicken breasts, pulling them out and placing them in the sink with cold water so they could defrost.

  That done, she reached into the cubby hole the family jokingly nicknamed the ‘dead boyfriend closet’ and grabbed some potatoes which she peeled and dropped into a pot. Finally, she pulled a can of green beans out of the pantry, stared at it for a minute, then placed it back on the shelf, and replaced it with a can of the kids’ favorite, cream corn. Setting everything except the chicken on the counter, she looked at her assembled masterpiece-to-be.

  Not the best meal in the world, she thought, but it’d do in a pinch.

  She was pulling her hair back into a ponytail when she heard the garage door open, and a few seconds later, Holly and Brock walked in.

  ‘You’re home earlier than I expected,’ Brock said, kissing her cheek.

  ‘A little bit. Where’s Isaac?’ she asked, looking toward the garage.

  ‘What do you mean “Where’s Isaac?” He’s not home?’

  ‘No.’

  When her husband’s brows furrowed to form an upside down ‘v,’ Alyssa said, ‘What?’

  ‘He still wasn’t feeling well this morning, so I called the school to let them know he was sick and wouldn’t be in. He did have a test he didn’t want to have to make up, so maybe he decided to go in late for that. Though I don’t know why he wouldn’t have let one of us know,’ Brock told her.

  ‘Hmm. Well, maybe he’s with Trevor then.’

  Holly interrupted, looking up from texting, ‘I saw Trevor when I drove by the school, and Isaac wasn’t with him. Trevor was by himself, listening to his iPod, bopping his head.’ She shrugged, grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl, and took a huge bite out of it.

  ‘Don’t ruin your appetite; I’m making dinner,’ Alyssa said automatically, though her mind was elsewhere.

  ‘I won’t. I’m going to my room. I need to text Sophie and find out what she’s wearing for her senior speech.’ Holly groaned. ‘Why English teachers feel the need to torture and bore everyone by making us write and listen to these speeches is beyond me. It’s a conspiracy, you know?’ she said, circling her apple around dramatically. ‘But it must be done.’ At that, she heaved her back off the counter as if it had been superglued and made her way to her room.

  ‘See if your brother’s in his room on your way, will you?’ Alyssa asked.

  ‘Sure thing.’ A few seconds later, she yelled down. ‘Not in here. Unless he’s hiding under his bed or lost under that mountain of crap in there. In which case, there’s no hope of finding him.’

  Alyssa eyes wandered to the clock. It was five forty. ‘I’ll just send him a text and ask where he is. If he’s sick, he shouldn’t be out anyway.’ As soon as she pushed send on her phone, a familiar chime came from the living room. Her head whipped around. ‘He left his phone?’

  She walked into the family room, Brock close behind, and sure enough, on the far end table sat Isaac’s phone. Prickles of unease crawled up her spine and settled at the back of her neck. Being a detective, she was not prone to panic, but something was definitely not right with this situation. She snatched up Isaac’s phone and unlocked it. The rule in their house was that she and Brock could check phones at any time for any reason. There were dozens of unread messages as well as several missed calls.

  She clicked on the envelope icon. The last text was from her, of course, but most were from Trevor, and some from a few other friends. She opened Trevor’s, reading them out loud.

  Dude, whr r u? Tst today. Did u frgt?

  Sry, just got yer txt frm this am sucks yer sick. Test not bad. Msg me.

  RU feeling btr? Heard a freaking funny joke 2day. TTYL.

  Dude, I no yer not feeling good and all, but text me, man.

  Alyssa continued scrolling through the messages. There was one from Brock sent at around eleven thirty. Just checking on you. On a quick break. Why don’t you give your mom a call now or send her a text to let her know you stayed home. I’m heading back to my meeting in five minutes, so if you get this in time, message me back. Love you.

  ‘Well, obviously, he never sent me a text.’ An unshakeable sense that something was wrong filled her, and her mind immediately went to Callie McCormick. Isaac is not a young, blonde female she told herself. Don’t borrow trouble.

  ‘I’m sorry, babe,’ Brock said. ‘I should’ve sent you a message to let you know. I just figured he could do it real quick since he was probably just lazing on the couch.’

  ‘I hate to be repetitive here, but again, he didn’t.’

  ‘If he didn’t go to school, I don’t know where he would’ve gone. He had a fever of a hundred point five before I left, so I asked him if he wanted me to cancel my meeting and stay home with him, but he told me he didn’t need a babysitter.’ Brock’s face tinged pink when he admitted, ‘He asked me not to call you right away because he didn’t want you to “go all mother hen” on him.’ When she opened her mouth, he rushed to say, ‘His words, not mine. Just, full disclosure.’

  ‘Well, apparently he wasn’t just “lazing on the couch.”’ She held her palm out to silence Brock’s argument – or his defense. Either w
ay. ‘Nothing we can do about it now except figure out where he is.’ She lit up the screen on Isaac’s phone. The last text besides hers had come in a little after five, but she hadn’t heard it go off. She swiped her finger across the phone to check for voicemails, but there weren’t any. She opened up the recent and missed calls log. Nothing outgoing from him after last night, and most of the missed calls, again, came from Trevor.

  She pushed return call on the phone and impatiently tapped her fingers on her leg until Trevor answered.

  ‘Dude,’ Trevor said, drawing out the ooo sound. ‘I thought you were dead. Wh –’ Alyssa cut him off midsentence.

  ‘Trevor, it’s Alyssa. I take it you didn’t see Isaac at school today?’ She knew the answer but asked anyway.

  ‘Oh, hey, Mrs. Detective Lady,’ he said, giving his usual greeting. ‘Nope, haven’t seen him. Thought he was home sick. He ain’t there?’ After a pause, he said, ‘Well, duh, he’s not there, or you wouldn’t be calling.’

  ‘Any idea where he might’ve gone?’ she asked, without much hope.

  ‘No, ma’am. Sorry.’

  ‘Okay. Well, do me a favor. If you happen to hear from him, let us know.’

  Trevor said okay, and she disconnected the call. ‘Where could he be?’ she asked out loud. The headache she was hoping to stave off was back.

  Keeping her voice even, she said, ‘Regardless of what he wanted, I should’ve been told he was staying home.’ And if she was being honest, she wasn’t only mad at her husband; she was also mad at herself for not checking on him. Even though he was still in bed when she left this morning, she had seen that he was still feverish when she looked in on him.

  Brock’s hand squeezed her shoulder, and he used the other to turn her face toward him. ‘I know you’re mad, and you have a right to be. And I said I’m sorry. But, let’s figure out where he is because this isn’t like him, and then you can yell at me all you want.’ He pulled her into his arms for a stiff hug.

  She might be a detective, but first and foremost, she was a mom, and she was scared. Newspaper images of Timmy’s body, unrecognizable from the elements, swam through her vision, and she shook her head to clear it. She refused to let her imagination go wild on her, refused to think about the last time someone important in her life had gone missing; there had to be a logical reason he wasn’t home. And when they finally figured out where he was, they’d all laugh about it later.

  Or not.

  The grandfather clock in the corner chimed, and in unison, they noted the time. Six o’clock.

  ‘Will you get Holly? We need to let her know what’s going on so she doesn’t freak out.’

  As he walked away, Brock’s words, faint but audible, filtered back to her. ‘I’d like to know what’s going on so I don’t freak out.’ But he went upstairs and knocked loudly on Holly’s door. Alyssa heard her daughter screech as she yelled out. ‘Jeez, Dad. Scare the crap out of me, why don’t you! You could knock, you know.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll try to think of that next time. Oh, that’s right, I did think of that. Maybe turn your music down a decibel or two and you’d hear me. So maybe you could watch your mouth and turn that rubbish off. I can hear it all the way over here. If you’re not careful, you’ll be deaf before you ever make it to college, much less your internship.’

  ‘Well? Did you want something?’

  ‘You need to come downstairs with Mom and me. We still don’t know where Isaac is.’

  ‘Wait, what? Isaac’s missing?’ Holly, wearing a pair of fuzzy monkey slippers, flew past her father as she thundered down the stairs.

  ‘No, he’s not missing; we just don’t know where he is exactly,’ he said.

  ‘Isn’t that the definition of missing?’ She rushed over to her mom.

  In the living room, Alyssa tried to calm Holly, to stop her from going into a full-blown anxiety attack.

  ‘I’m sure there’s a logical reason for your brother not being home. Just calm down, and let’s not jump to conclusions before we even get started.’ She heard herself saying the words, but she wasn’t really believing them herself. Still, she didn’t need her daughter panicking on top of everything else. She needed to deal with one thing at a time.

  ‘If there’s a logical reason, why do I need to be down here? Because there’s nothing logical about this, that’s why. My brother’s missing!’

  ‘Your brother’s not missing. We just don’t know where he is.’

  ‘Oh! My! Gosh! What is it with you two?’ Holly’s head whipped back and forth between her parents. ‘Not knowing where someone is is the definition of missing!’ She enunciated each word, her voice almost a shout at the end. ‘Aren’t you a detective? Shouldn’t you know that?’

  She was so mature for her age, Alyssa sometimes forgot her daughter was still a teenager with a mouth. Even so, she understood Holly was nervous, like the rest of them.

  ‘You know, I should call my mom and let her know what’s going on,’ Brock finally said, already pulling out his phone. And then his face lit up. ‘That’s it. I bet he’s at Mom’s.’

  Alyssa couldn’t believe they hadn’t thought of that already, but even as her hopes rose, her stomach clenched, her gut telling her he wasn’t at Mabel’s. Still, she held her breath as Brock placed the call. When her mother-in-law finally answered, Alyssa and Holly listened to his end of the conversation.

  ‘Yeah. Hey, Mom. No, listen. Mom…’ His mom rarely bothered to ask why someone was calling before launching into whatever topic was on her mind when her phone rang. Alyssa fisted her hands and stopped herself from yanking the phone from her husband. ‘Mom! No, I didn’t watch The Voice.’ He raised his voice over hers. ‘I called to see if Isaac’s with you.’

  Alyssa heard him ask, but she knew what Mabel’s answer was before Brock turned to her with a pained look and shook his head ‘no,’ pinching the bridge of his nose as he did. Isaac was not with her because if he was, she would’ve jumped right into what they were having for dinner and been indignant that they would’ve wanted her to call to tell them her own grandson was hanging out with her. Alyssa’s chest deflated as she let out the pent-up breath she’d been holding.

  Brock assured his mom she didn’t need to come over, that he’d let her know as soon as they knew something, and then hung up, facing Alyssa.

  She did her best to put on her professional face as she said, ‘I’m going to call Cord and make a formal report.’

  Holly, eyes wide, stopped chewing her fingernail and said, ‘But doesn’t he have to be missing twenty-four hours or something?’

  ‘No, that’s a myth, and besides, he’s fourteen.’ Alyssa dialed Cord, throat constricted, to report her son missing.

  Chapter Forty

  Wednesday, April 3

  ‘My mom’s not really in the hospital, is she?’ Isaac whispered as they drove into the canyon. The trees were taller and thicker here, the road curvier and more narrow. When he didn’t respond, Isaac asked, ‘Was she even in an accident?’ From the corner of his eye, he saw Officer Pobiv’s grip tighten on the steering wheel, and Isaac reached for the door handle.

  ‘Won’t do you any good. Childproof locks. And even if you succeeded in opening the door, you’d kill yourself jumping out at this speed.’

  Isaac snapped his hand back as if he’d been caught stealing cookies before dinner time. He cradled both arms around his stomach.

  ‘What made you stay home today anyway? I was expecting to have to wait until you were walking home from school for this.’ He waved his hand between them. When Isaac didn’t answer, the man’s hand shot out and slammed his head against the passenger window. ‘I asked you a question.’

  Isaac cried out and then, voice trembling, he answered, ‘I was sick.’

  Bishop nodded as if he understood. He drove another five minutes before he pulled onto the shoulder of the road. He turned off the engine and faced Isaac. ‘Look, kid, you’re a smart one, and I think you know the score here. Your mom isn’t in the hospital
and was never in an accident, so at least you can relax about that.’ From the center console, he pulled out a blindfold and dangled it in front of his face.

  Evan ignored the moisture pooling in the boy’s eyes. ‘I’m going to put this on you so you don’t try to memorize where we are or where we’re going. And then you’re going to recline your seat and lie back. Do you understand?’ He asked it like a question but said it like a threat.

  Isaac managed to tilt his head forward in what could be taken for a nod. ‘Why?’ he choked out.

  ‘Why did I take you?’ When Isaac mumbled yes, Bishop said simply, ‘I want your mom to come to me. No, don’t ask me anything else. Now, hold this over your eyes,’ he ordered. When Isaac obeyed, Evan shoved his head forward and tied the cloth, yanking it hard to ensure it was tight. The yelp of pain made him smile. He was already hurting her by hurting her son. He grabbed the kid by the hair as he pulled him back up, happy to see the boy’s body quaking. He leaned in to whisper, ‘Remember this: everything that happens to you now is your mother’s fault. She’s to blame, not me.’ After Isaac was reclined as far as the seat allowed, Evan started the car and pulled back onto the interstate.

  Surveilling Alyssa’s house from inside the vacant house across the street this morning, he couldn’t believe his luck when he realized the kid was staying home from school. Impatient to put his plan into action now that his timeline had unexpectedly moved up, he’d donned the uniform he’d too easily purchased online years ago and then gathered his belongings, looking around to ensure he left no trace behind. He walked to the house’s garage where he was currently parked and threw his things into the trunk, deciding not to re-engage the cable connected to the automatic garage door.

  And now here they were. Every few minutes, Bishop glanced over to make sure the blindfold was still firmly in place. He didn’t expect any problems, but he was prepared for them anyway.

 

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