Ideal Image: Snapshot, #2

by Freya Barker

  Fucking unbelievable. I’m pressing my lips together so the indignant anger I feel on her behalf doesn’t come flying out, but it’s damn hard.

  Now that Drew has her talking, he carefully guides her step-by-step through the events of yesterday morning. Mom and the boyfriend got into an argument, which clearly escalated. Becca hid in the closet, until she couldn’t hear any noises and thought maybe he’d left. The poor kid found her mom in the bathroom, blood everywhere. That’s when she heard the guy in the next room, and she bailed it out the door.

  She’d been hiding in the brush along the river, until the cold drove her here.

  “Becca? The man in your house, can you tell me anything else about him?”

  The girl mumbles something unintelligible at Drew’s question.

  “I can’t hear you,” Stacie tells her gently.

  “He has a white, rusty old pickup truck and his name is Kevin, that’s all I know.”

  “YOU TRY AND GET SOME sleep, too.”

  I didn’t learn the social worker’s name until just twenty minutes ago. Rita Mayers, and she’s actually quite a nice lady, despite my initial aversion to her. That probably had more to do with Becca’s reaction to the woman than anything else.

  She had Stacie sign some forms, so that Becca could stay with her for the short-term. The girls just went to lay down for a bit. Maybe catch some sleep. I’m just showing Rita out before calling the office.

  “I might.”

  “Give me a call later today,” she said, handing me her card. “Especially these first few days, it’ll be tough, so rather than having me disrupt whatever routine you guys are building with her, I prefer staying in touch by phone for now. Give her a chance to adjust.”

  I tuck her card in my pocket and close the door, locking it.

  Drew left earlier after he’d gotten all the information he was going to get out of the tired little girl. He has a description of the vehicle and a first name. Not a whole lot to go by, but it would have to do. He was hoping to find out more from her older brother, but when he asked her where she thought her brother could be, she shrugged and said he often disappeared for days at a time, sometimes staying with friends in Cortez.

  Jay—or Jason, as Drew quietly told me when he called me out on the porch—is a seventeen-year-old schoolyard drug dealer. Small time, Drew said, but known to the cops. He was going to see if he could get some help from the Cortez PD to pick the boy up.

  I can barely keep my eyes open until eight o’clock, when I know Sheila will be at the office.

  “Morning,” I say, when she answers the phone on the third ring.

  “You have an eleven o’clock with George Bond at First National, and then lunch with—”

  “Sheila,” I cut her off before she recites my whole goddamn schedule for the week. “Something’s come up. I’m going to need you to cancel those appointments.”

  “You absolutely cannot,” she says with a vehemence that surprises me. “This would constitute the third time you cancel with George, and after trying to soothe his ruffled feathers the last time you ditched him, I’m betting this time you will lose any goodwill you’ve managed to build over the years. I don’t know what has gotten into you, but for someone who has always been an example of professionalism, you sure as hell haven’t acted very professional lately.”

  “Sheila...” I plead in a more conciliatory tone.

  “Don’t Sheila me. I haven’t spent eight years of my life helping to build your vision for this firm, only to have you lose your focus because of that woman.”

  “That woman,” I snap, “is not only someone I plan to have in my life for as long as I can keep her, she also happens to be one of your bosses, as of yesterday.” Frustration has made me loud, so I rein it in before I wake up the girls.

  “So noted,” Sheila comments tersely, and I feel bad for tearing a strip off her when she’s just trying to look out for me.

  “Look—here’s what I’ll do. I’ll go straight to First National to see Bond at eleven, but cancel my lunch. I’m coming straight back to the office after that. Not for long though, just to pick up anything I need to handle for the next few days. And...” I add when she starts voicing a protest. “I’ll fill you in on what’s going on when I get there.”

  A quick glance at the clock, when I hang up, has me groan out loud. Eight twenty. All I have for work clothes is the suit I was wearing yesterday. I briefly contemplate driving out to the farm to get a clean dress shirt, but quickly dismiss that option. Not only do I not want to leave Stacie and Becca here alone, but if I allow myself half an hour to get dressed, get my dad over here to keep an eye out, and make it into Cortez for my appointment, it gives me less than two hours of sleep as it is.

  I have every intention of sleeping on the couch, but when I go take a peek around the bedroom door to find them both sleeping, I change my mind.

  Without bothering to get undressed, I curve myself around Stacie’s back, who in turn is curved around Becca’s. Like spoons in a drawer, each protecting the next.

  STACIE

  Phoning his father had been a good call.

  Just like he’d done with Mak, with his straightforward and no-nonsense manner, it took Henry no time at all to get Becca to relax in his presence.

  He’d already been there when Nick woke me up with a soft kiss on my cheek. I quickly hushed him when he started to apologize for needing to keep an appointment. I’m not only a big girl; I’m a lawyer as well, so I get it. I carefully slid out of bed, letting Becca sleep, and followed Nick out of the room.

  Nick left it to me to explain the situation to his father, who was such a wonderful listener, I talked much more than I’d intended. I let down my guard, and even cried, as I explained how this situation brought back some difficult memories for me.

  “That’s understandable,” he’d said, before bringing a healthy dose of reality to the table, which dried my tears faster than they appeared. “Good thing you’re no longer a lost and lonely child, but a capable adult now. One who has her family by her side, with a good man at her back, and has an opportunity to help that girl get to a point where she might hope for the same one day. It’s a blessing.”

  Talk about getting things put into perspective for you. A side of me wants to be defensive, but that’s just a knee-jerk reaction. I can’t deny that I allow myself to get lost in those painful memories at times. Using the pain of their loss like some kind of tribute. But in a very plain and direct way, I’ve just been told that this is not about me, but about Becca. That my role is not to grieve with her, but to allow her to.

  “You’re a wise man, Henry,” I told him, patting his arm with my hand.

  He’d been out on the porch with Becca for the past half hour.

  She woke up, a little disoriented, and had been suspicious of Nick’s father at first. Within minutes he had her smiling at his description of Maisy blowing snot all over me. He was smart in his approach. Following what he must’ve learned from Mak’s interests, he banked on it that Becca’s ran along the same lines.

  From horses to dogs, and finally to fishing, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t convince her to leave the safety of the house to try a line in the river. Finally he got her to settle for a game of Go Fish on the porch, giving me a chance to give my brother a quick call, outside of Becca’s earshot.

  “Talk to me,” he says. His preferred way to answer the phone, since he doesn’t like talking on it.

  “She’s good. Nick’s father is here doing a fantastic job of distracting her. How’s Mak?”

  “Where’s Nick?” he asks instead.

  “He’ll be back. He’s just picking up some work from the office.”

  “He left you alone?”

  I knew it was coming, but I wasn’t about to let Ben attack Nick.

  “Yes, he did, and with my blessing. For your information,” I spit out, building up steam. “That man sat or stood beside me all damn night. Looking after us. He’s the one who ha
ndled the sheriff and the CPS, and he’s the one who finally tucked us in bed this morning, barely getting any rest himself. He’s also the one who made sure we weren’t alone while he’s off to arrange working from home the next couple of days.”

  “He shouldn’t have left you,” my stubborn brother persists. “At the very least he should’ve called me.”

  “He knows you have Mak, for Christ’s sake! He left it up to me, and I’m calling you now.”

  “Not good enough,” he snaps, and I lose it on him.

  “Didn’t you leave your wife and son behind in Arizona to take care of business here?”

  I know I’m hitting a sore spot, but dammit...

  “That’s not the fucking same,” he barks, clearly upset. “I trust her to tell me if she needs me. I’d drop every fucking damn thing in a heartbeat. She knows that.”

  “And there it is,” I snap back, angry tears blurring my vision. “The difference between you and him? Is that where you still don’t trust me to know what’s best for me, he does. He listens. You’re a hypocrite, because for years I didn’t even know where you were while I handled my life on my own, but now that someone else has stepped up to the plate, you think you can criticize him? Hell no, Ben. Just, hell no.” I take a deep breath, trying to bring my heart rate back down and checking to make sure Becca hasn’t heard my rant. Even though Henry’s concerned eyes meet mine through the window, Becca’s are firmly on the card game. I turn my attention to a surprisingly quiet Ben. “Now please tell me how my daughter is doing.”

  After a very pregnant pause, during which I wonder if he’s hung up on me, he finally answers.

  “I kept her home from school. Let me get her.”

  Two seconds later, my Makenna’s voice comes over the phone, peppering me with questions and telling me excitedly about the little camera her uncle bought her this morning. I smile at the knowledge my little girl is safe with Ben, even though I’m sad we argued. I talk with her for a bit, confirming that yes, Becca is sad, and letting her know that I’m sure her friend would love to see pictures of Atsa, who she’s apparently been following around with her camera.

  “Uncle Ben wants to talk to you,” Mak announces, and true to form, I don’t even get a chance to say goodbye before my brother’s voice comes over the line.

  “Sis?”

  “Still here,” I confirm in a soft voice, matching his.

  “You good if we pop in later? I’ll bring dinner for all of us.” It may not sound like it to outside ears, but I love Ben enough to know this is his way of apologizing. Perhaps not so much in words, but definitely in tone and in gesture. Something he confirms seconds later.

  “Bring the dog,” I say smiling, giving him my version of absolution. “But make dinner for—”

  “Six,” he cuts me off. “I know. I can count.”

  “Smartass.” My grin is wide, and only gets wider when I hear his mutter before the line goes dead.

  “All day, every day.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Nick

  “She thinks I’m too protective.”

  I look over at Ben, who’d insisted on stepping outside on the porch with a beer. I know he’s talking about Stacie.

  She is inside, putzing around the kitchen, while the girls watch some kind of kids’ movie on the small TV in the living room. I can see Becca, whose eyes flit over to the window every so often, to make sure I’m still there. I smile at her before turning my attention back to Ben.

  “I get it,” I tell him. “And given what all happened to her, I can’t blame you.”

  “Tore a strip off me earlier,” he says staring into the darkness, almost as if I hadn’t spoken. “Pissed she was. More pissed than I’ve ever seen from her; because of you.”

  “Me?”

  I watch as his head slowly turns around and his eyes focus on me.

  “You love her.”

  It’s more a statement than a question, but I answer anyway.

  “I do.”

  “Yeah,” he says, dropping his gaze to his shoes and rubbing a hand through his silver hair. “Figured as much.” He pauses to take a long tug from his beer before continuing. “Pretty sure the feeling is mutual.”

  Though not as good as hearing it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak, I do a virtual fist pump at his words, and I have to work to keep my face impassive.

  “It’s hard to stand back when I’m so used to stepping up. Your job now. I get it. Fuck, I was in your shoes not that long ago when Al got in my face about Isla.”

  I’ve been quiet, letting him talk because I know it’s leading up to something. A moment later that thought is confirmed when he turns to face me.

  “I know you’ve got her back,” he starts. “And I’m grateful, but don’t leave me out of the loop. It fucking messes with my head.”

  I almost laugh at the frustrated scowl on his face.

  “Never intended to,” I assure him. “Since when is this a fucking competition?”

  “What competition?” Stacie walks out on the deck, coming straight to my side with a questioning smile on her face.

  For a moment Ben and I stare at each other over her head, before I break away and look down at her.

  “None. We’re just coming to the conclusion that we’re all in this.” I curl my arm around her waist and tug her close. “All of us,” I emphasize, giving her a squeeze.

  “Right,” Ben mutters. “So I should probably tell you that I called Neil this afternoon.”

  I remember Neil is one of the guys with GFI Investigations, a company Ben works with on occasion, and the same guys who helped out earlier this year, when Stacie was hurt.

  “The techie?” The answer is a confirming nod.

  “I spoke to Drew before I got here and he doesn’t have much to go on. Just that first name and a truck description but nothing concrete. Nothing to tie the guy in with anyone or anything else. I asked him to run everything through this program he has. Any information on Becca’s family, her brother and mother’s run-ins with the police, prior addresses, any information from neighbors—everything we know.” He looks at his sister, who is listening intently. “Even told him to put in your information, including all of your old cases. I want to see if this incident ties in with what’s happening with you these last weeks. See if we can find a connection. Any connection,” he says, glancing at me. “Because my gut says this is all connected.”

  “Thanks for telling us,” Stacie says, almost sarcastically.

  “Look,” Ben snaps, and I brace for another confrontation. “You made your point earlier, which is why I’m here now. But I won’t hold off on doing what can be done to keep you safe, just so I can run it by you first. That’s the difference between us; your profession requires you to examine things carefully before you act, but in my line of work; I have to make decisions on the spot—or lives could be lost.”

  I stay quiet, sensing that this is more between those two than it involves me. I note how Stacie presses her lips together and casts a glance through the window to the girls inside.

  “Point taken,” she finally says, giving her brother a small nod before she untangles herself from my hold and walks up to him, pulling him into a hug. “There’s too much at stake.”

  Giving them a moment, I head inside to use the washroom, passing the girls on the couch, but just Becca looks up at me. I give her a little wink before disappearing down the hallway.

  My business done, I wash my hands and glance in the mirror. Not something I do often. In an almost abstract way I notice how the vertical scowl lines, that normally deeply bisect my eyebrows, are much less notable. Even my mouth seems more relaxed than my usual tightly pressed lips. It feels a little like finally being at ease in my skin, after years of forcing the fit.

  Funny how amid this fucked up situation, I seem to be finding my sweet spot.

  The smile on my face as I pull open the bathroom door drops immediately when I find Becca waiting on the other side, worry on her face.

>   “What’s wrong?” I go down on one knee so I can look her straight in the eye.

  “It’s just...” She hesitates, looking over her shoulder to the living room.

  “You can tell me.”

  “You shouldn’t be out there,” she whispers, confusing me.

  “Out where? On the porch?” She nods almost eagerly. “Why?” I want to know.

  “He’s watching. I know he is.”

  “How do you know that, Becca?”

  “Because he was there that day...”

  STACIE

  “He what?”

  Ben’s loud reaction has me jumping out of my skin. One glance at the girls shows me he certainly startled them. Becca looks like she’ll bolt any second.

  “Would you keep it down?” I hiss at him, poking a finger in his chest. “You’re freaking the kids out.” He grabs my offending hand and leans close.

  “He’s been watching you, Stacie,” he hisses back. “He used that little girl to lure our Mak to him, for fuck’s sake!” He steps in closer and adds in a whisper, “And after that, he killed her mother.”

  Nick just finished telling us how the same man, this Kevin, had apparently enlisted Becca’s help to snatch my daughter. He’d threatened to hurt her, hurt her mom, if she didn’t comply. Poor kid.

  The implications are pretty clear; as Ben suggested earlier, what happened to us, and what happened to Becca’s mother is all connected.

  “Drew needs to know,” Nick suggests from behind me, and I turn to lean my head against his chest. As if by rote, his arms slide protectively around me. “You wanna call him?” he directs at my brother over my head.

  I hide my face in his shirt, but I can hear Ben’s footsteps as he heads down the hall, presumably to make that call in the privacy of my bedroom.

  “Pack a bag,” Ben instructs a few minutes later when he walks back into the kitchen.

  “Why?”

  “Because we need a chance to find him before he can get to you.” The brutally fierce way he tells me has a cold fist of fear squeeze my heart.

  “Fuck,” I hear Nick mutter.