by F. G. Adams
Nostalgia overwhelms me when I walk through the front door of the inn. The drapes, furniture, and decorations scattered around the open area send me back to when I used to visit my grandmother’s house. Even the smell of cookies baking somewhere close by makes my stomach rumble.
“Hello,” I call out as I ring the bell at the front desk.
“I’ll be right there,” a tender old voice calls out to me. One that instantly reminds me of my grandmother.
“No problem,” I answer and lean onto the counter to wait.
A few beats later, in walks a grey-haired woman with a gentle smile and a twinkle in her eye. Mrs. Claus, much?
“Hello, there, handsome. How can I help you?” the Mrs. Claus look-a-like asks as her chin gradually moves up, up, and up, reaching my face.
I’d swear the look she’s giving me isn’t innocent. Mrs. C is hitting on me. Not like my grandmother.
“I’m looking for a room,” I say skeptically.
Now I’m not so sure if I want to stay here or find another place. I don’t have time for this shit. Especially not today. No real choice, though; I’ll have to take what I can get.
She touches and strokes her throat sensually. The smile growing on her face indicates she feels my vibe, knows what I’m thinking, but ignores it. Then she changes her tune…a little.
“Well, sugar. We have a few suites left, but no rooms. What with all the Fall Festival activities going on around these parts. The Captain Tolbert Suite is available. It’s a beautiful suite. Has its own sitting room with a fireplace and bathroom. Real nice. Our finest suite here at the inn, but pricey.”
“I’ll take it. Pricey is not a problem, ma’am,” I tell her.
Fatigue is setting in, the need to reboot pressing down on me.
“Handsome and rich. Okay, then.”
A flush of color covers her already rosy cheeks.
“Fill this out, and I’ll need a driver’s license and credit card,” Mrs. C replies.
“Got it, thank you, ma’am,” I respond as I begin to fill out the paperwork.
Two batches of snickerdoodle cookies later, along with a sugar rush, I manage to separate myself from the delightful conversation. Literally untangling limb after limb from Santa’s could-be wife. Finally, I take my leave and make a beeline up to the suite.
She wasn’t kidding about the finery of the room. Gold fixtures decorate the bathroom and the furniture laid out in the space. In the sitting room, the gas fireplace is simmering at a slow burn.
I place my duffle on the bed and my rucksack on the desk. It’s a little too rich for my taste, but I don’t mind staying here for a while. Besides, the large room allows ample space to stretch out and not be cramped, instead of being stuffed into a matchbox like previous times.
After unpacking, I pick up my phone to call Lukas. We haven’t connected since last night. Time to check in and see if he has anything else for me and bend his ear some.
My phone starts to ring before I have a chance to dial. Lukas pops up on the screen as I answer.
“Yo, Ollie. How was the flight?” Lukas asks.
“Fuck you, man. Do you have any idea what kind of mess Atlanta was, Lukas? I had all of twenty minutes to unload from the Seattle flight and get to the next flight. Which, by the way, in case you're wondering, was on the other side of the fucking airport, Jolly Green,” I sarcastically reply, glaring at him.
He has a comical look plastered across his giant-ass head.
“Well, I figured you haven’t had any good exercise lately. Wanted to help a fucker, I mean, a brother out, Ols.”
Peals of laughter escape from Lukas as he tries to smother it with his hand. Falling short.
“Back at ya, fucker. And you figured wrong, man. That was all kinds of messed up,” I reply with a chuckle of my own.
Let’s face it. I can’t be mad at him. Especially after he introduced me to the beauty sitting outside in the parking lot.
“What’s your location?”
“Seriously, Luc. You don’t know?”
He knows every move we make. He’s a computer whiz genius. And if he can’t figure it out, our newest member, Paul Gunner, aka the kid MacGyver, takes up the slack.
“Ya caught me, dog.”
His free hand goes up in the air in surrender.
“I see you found a place to stay. What’s the plan?” he asks.
I hear another voice in the background, laughing his ass off. Fucking kid. The smile that creeps up my face is sincere. Provoked by the happy-go-lucky and immature nature of MacGyver.
“Yeah, Ols. What’s the plan?”
Keagan’s polished head comes into view on the screen.
“Nice to see you, too, K. I’m good, really. Thanks for askin’. Alive and well, no thanks to Luc and his airport shit. But it’s cool, brother. I’ve found a new love here. Thanks to Jolly Green.”
Crickets. Nothing but silence. Well, shit on a fucking stick. Their eyes mixed with confusion and disbelief dart back and forth between each other. Then they land on me.
They must believe I mean a someone, as in the female persuasion. Oh, but I did. Just not the kind they’re expecting.
“Hold up, guys. Not what you’re both thinkin’ with the looks y'all are givin’ me,” I assert, letting them off the hook. I smile when I continue, “A truck, bros. She’s beautiful, too. K, you’d be lovestruck. Believe me. I’m either gonna have to make a deal with them to bring her home or find me one just like her down there. I’m completely smitten.”
The relief is instant on both their faces. They know my history. Understand that I won’t go there again. Shitbags for figuring it.
“A-n-y-how, I’m unpackin’ and then heading up to Rescue. It’s about four miles north from here. Do a little scoutin’. It’s getting late. I’m sure there won’t be much activity tonight. Besides, I’m exhausted from the travelin’.”
“That’s your plan? What are you, four?” Lukas interjects.
“Shut it, Jolly Green. I’ve had my limit of your antics today, dickhead,” I reply and bore holes into the small screen.
“Waa! Waa! Ya, big baby,” Lukas cries in a joking voice. He won’t let up.
“Whatever. I’m gonna take a look around, grab a bite, and then come back here to get some rest. I’ll be up there early in the morning to make first contact.”
“Good. Let us know what you find once you’re there,” Keagan adds. “Be discreet until you figure out the best way to approach her, Ollie. We don’t want to scare her away and have to start this all over again.”
“Don’t I fuckin’ know it, Keagan. No qualms from me. I’m ready to get my ass back down there.”
“Yeah, I hear you miss my slobberin’ dog.”
Keagan chuckles as Roxy’s face comes into view. The big brute of a dog needs to get in on the loving. Naturally.
“She misses you, too, stud,” Lukas adds.
“Hey, there, Roxy girl. Now, she’s the kind of female I don’t mind hangin’ with. Aren’t ya, girl?” I baby talk into the phone as Roxy’s pink tongue thrusts out and licks across the screen.
“Gross, thanks a lot, Ollie. Down, girl. Dammit, Roxy. Why’d you have to talk to her like that, bro? You know she gets all goo-goo at that voice,” Lukas complains in exasperation.
“Glad to be of service, Luc. Hey, Keagan. When are you gonna have puppies? Well, not you, but Roxy.” My laughter echoes in the room. “I need one, man.”
Like a dog will fix all my problems, right? Maybe the companionship can fill the emptiness inside of me.
“Still thinkin’ about it. You’ll be the first to know when I do, Ols,” Keagan retorts. “Now, get your ass out there, clock’s tickin’, asswipe.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” I call out and mock-salute him.
“Fuckface,” Keagan mumbles as he walks out of view.
Chuckling, Lukas tosses out, “Ols, you know just how to push the right buttons, don’t you?”
“I do what I can to help.”
“Hoorah, my brother.”
His wayward comments are all but forgotten.
I grab a quick shower before driving out to Rescue. Once I’m on the road, my stomach growls again. I knew there was something I forgot. The several dozen cookies I ate earlier with the wayward Mrs. C just ain’t cutting it.
First, completing a full drive through, I scope out the tiny town, which only takes a few minutes.
I locate where Fallyn and Harper are allegedly staying. The intel Lukas and MacGyver sent has an exact address, so I followed the GPS to the point of interest. It’s dusk and my time is running short.
The house is vastly different than the one in Aberdeen. A shaker-style architecture is evident from the workmanship of the home. Simple lines with thick wood trim accent the windows and doors.
In addition, the lawn is freshly mowed and part of the leaves are bagged, sitting by the road to be picked up. A stack of cardboard moving boxes is placed beside the bags. Noteworthy.
The car parked in the driveway matches the description of the one Matilda bought last week. I think this day just started turning around in my favor.
There’s a soft glow in the window. Someone is home.
Those damn cookies from earlier do somersaults in my belly with the anticipation of who I might find in the little house. It’s the rush of being so close. So close to catching up with the vixen and her cub.
My pet names for the pair solicit a chuckle in response.
When I was a kid, there was a female red fox who lived in the woods near my homestead. I got to know this particular fox very well one summer.
When Mom would leave clothes out on the clothesline overnight, things would go missing. Same with scraps or any kind of food left outside unattended.
One day, I stumbled upon the fox’s den. She gave me no clemency or mercy, bearing her teeth and growling. Warning me to stay away from her cubs.
I left her alone but continued to watch from a distance. All the while collecting scraps and leaving them near her den. I learned a lot from that fox. The creatures are truly amazing animals and have a keen intelligence that rivals other species in the animal kingdom.
Just like the opportunistic nature Fallyn has surrendered to with Harper. On the run and protecting her cub.
I continue to canvas the surrounding area. Won’t be able to drive in this town without being noticed. Already I’m getting looks of suspicion as I drive around in my shiny, large truck. It’s out of place. That’s the thing about small towns.
Once again, I drive by the house where I suspect they live. I look for a good place to park and do surveillance in the morning.
Bingo. Across the road from the house, I spot a dense grove of timberland. From the looks of it, they go deep. I’ll get to do some tromping through the woods after all. My kind of reconnaissance.
The hue of what’s left of the sun is just visible, making a concrete visual impossible. I’m spent. It’s time for me to return to the inn and get some rest.
Before the crack-ass of dawn, I’m back in Rescue, Virginia.
Parking along the bank of a dirt road located on the back side of the property I scouted earlier, I’m out of view. I track through the dense woods and set up a stakeout point directly across from Fallyn’s potential residence.
No one will ever know I’m here, with my cameoed-out face and clothes, perched in the tall, black walnut tree. Its grey bark and colorful leaves blend with my camouflage. Luckily, the tree cover is still substantial.
I sit and wait. Patiently watching the little home of the person of interest. Hoping the ghost vixen is in there.
An hour into recon, lights come on inside the dwelling. Through my night vision goggles, I can make out one figure walking around the house. A second silhouette makes an appearance. My anticipation ratchets up a notch or fifty from the prospect of this being my assets. I observe longer to see if anyone else is in the house with them. No one else emerges.
A couple of hours later, commotion stirs from the dwelling. I watch as two people appear in the doorway, exiting the home.
One is tall and slender, dressed in all black. From my vantage point twenty-five meters away, she appears to be a teenager.
The second person is much shorter and built like a bombshell. Curvaceous, all woman. A long turtleneck sweater caresses her curves. The calf-length black boots she’s sporting have me grasping my lip between my teeth, wishing I could get closer to confirm my suspicions.
Damn.
They stroll down the sidewalk, heading toward town.
Discreetly, I climb down from my position and hike back to my truck. I wash the shit off my face and quickly change into normal clothes. I tuck my hair into my Arkansas ball cap and slip behind the wheel. I need to find out where they went and fast.
I drive by the house one more time, just to make sure they didn’t come back. The car is parked under the carport, but no movement is visible.
Passing by, I continue down the road a few blocks and take a left at the crossroads. It’s the only intersection in this small town.
I’d also spotted a diner; Ray’s was the name. If I were a betting man, I’d say that’s exactly where they went this early in the morning. Besides, I’m hungry.
Pulling up, I park in the dusty lot across the street from Ray’s Diner. I exit the truck and walk to the front door, pushing it open with one hand, the other hand cinching my jacket together as a cold wind whips around me.
A heavy gust blows, causing me to let go of the door in order to catch my favorite Razorbacks hat from flying off my head. I say it’s my favorite, but truth be told, it’s my lucky hat.
“Fuck,” I murmur when the door catches my other arm and I barely wrestle it free before it closes on me. Real smooth, Oliver.
Adjusting my jacket and hat, I push the leaden glass door open again. The jingling of the bell announces my arrival.
I stop short when I feel eyes on me. Scanning the small establishment, I see every person in the diner has stopped eating to stare. At me. Not out of the norm. I get this type of reaction most places I go. I’m a big, tattooed man. For some people that’s a scary combination. Although my mom used to tell me ‘You stand out in the crowd, my beautiful son.’ Crazy talk from a biased mother. Except, Taylor always told me I was a good-looking fella, too.
Plus, the disadvantage is, this is a small town. Everyone’s curious, because I’m clearly not from around here.
My eyes roam around the diner, searching, and land on a pair of sparkling blue eyes belonging to a beautiful woman with copper-colored hair. A face I’m very familiar with stares back at me. She visibly swallows at my scrutiny, and my eyes flitter to her throat. I watch in fascination as it moves up and down, caught in her trap.
Fuck.
I remind myself to breathe.
Dragging my eyes away, I look to the other side of the booth, and sitting there is a young girl with the clear blue eyes.
Gotcha! I’ve caught my ghost.
4
Fallyn
The first lesson I learned living on the run all these years was when something bad happens, you have choices to make that either define you, destroy you, or strengthen you. I learned long ago not to dwell on things outside of my control, Roman being the main object not in my control. I can’t start my life over again, making different choices, but I can go forward. Even when I get down in the dumps, I remember Harper is my reason to keep going.
Royal purple, burnt orange, and gold leaves are scattered across the front lawn. I need to hire a lawn boy before the leaves take over. I mentally add it to my list of things to do. Since we moved here, the list has grown to an unmanageable length with Harper, work, and everyday household tasks.
Fall is here and I find myself in a different town, still running from the man in my nightmares. In the beginning, I foolishly believed he would give up and return to
California. Of course, that didn’t happen. It only stirred the craziness he had suppressed around me in the beginning. His need to own us overpowers his sanity, a cat-and-mouse chase.
This fall makes fifteen years since I’ve seen my family. I ache from the missed moments. The familiarity and security of surroundings. The simple things. Knowing if I had car problems, family would be there in a heartbeat to help, or if I came down with the flu, my sisters would be there to mop my brow with a wet washcloth and take care of Harper. If I didn’t have Harper, my sanity would have been lost years ago. She’s been my saving grace.
We’ve moved so many times I’ve lost count. We lived in almost every state in the union, according to Grandma. Canada was one of the first places we lived in, but this Florida chick could only endure three years in the cold, brutal weather. It was the longest place we stayed without him finding us. Maybe we should think about returning.
Grandma is the only one I have contact with, and that’s because she knows. She knows what happened that awful night. She knows what Roman and his family are capable of. She’s been hiding us from the beginning. I don't know where we would be if she hadn't helped a scared and frightened child that Christmas Eve.
My hand instinctually goes to my waist, stroking the injuries long ago healed.
During my healing period, Grandma made sure the resources I needed were at my disposal. Therapy sessions with a top-notch psychologist helped me learn to cope daily with the reality of what happened between me and Roman. She wouldn’t let me curl up and die, even when I desperately wanted to. When I found out I was pregnant, she stepped in again and protected me from my father, Roman, and myself. I teetered the sanity rope until I held Harper in my arms. Then everything clicked into place.
I should have graduated with my friends and enjoyed the summer getting ready to go to the University of Florida. I had been accepted and couldn't wait to leave home. Then hell came to earth and everything changed. I was no longer a teenager ready to fly the coop; I was a mother and had a responsibility to protect Harper at all costs. I've been running ever since.
