Hard to Find: A Tillgiven Romantic Mystery

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  “I couldn’t…” I looked at the big hotel. They probably served teeny-tiny food on huge plates.

  “Okay, then. Well, nice to meet you anyway.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and made like he was going to turn.

  “No, I mean, I can. And, oh, sorry, I’m Dani. I just thought it’s awful expensive. We could eat somewhere cheaper, if you want. If it’s a place to walk to, anyway.”

  “I agree. I wouldn’t get in a car with a stranger either. They’ve got a café at the hotel, around the back. We can eat there. It’s not so bad.”

  I glanced one more time around me. My car was off at the edge of town. The crowds of people were thinning, but not gone. We weren’t alone. And the hotel was pretty busy too. Dinner with a stranger in a foreign country. What could go wrong? “Let’s eat.”

  Isaac Daniels 8

  Si slept through the night. The doctors assured me it wasn’t a coma. They didn’t seem to care that I wasn’t a relative, and they didn’t rush me away. They didn’t bring me a cot to sleep in, but the chair reclined, and I had slept in a car the last two nights, so it was starting to feel perfectly natural. At least the hospital room was inside.

  The next morning Si seemed limp, maybe even a little loopy, but he was awake, and eating his breakfast. The hospital food was weirdly like an Ikea $1.99 breakfast—the same industrial scrambled eggs, frozen potatoes, and French toast sticks, but Si didn’t seem to mind. He also didn’t seem to want to chat, so I left him with his meal and found the cafeteria, where I could get the same thing for only forty-five kronas…which I knew was more than a dollar ninety-nine, but I didn’t want to consider the cost; it would ruin the gratitude thing I was feeling.

  The cafeteria was not a cell phone–free zone, so I booted my phone up to check messages. The first missed call was from Dani. What with the gratitude, and the breakfast, seeing her name on my screen was like being struck by good lightning. She was calling. She was well. All was well with the world. Before I could dial in and check my messages, the phone rang.

  “Au, Isaac.” I liked the Swedish way of answering phones. This morning I liked everything.

  “Isaac, this is Cadence.” Her voice was hushed, and panicky, but she couldn’t ruin my Zen. Not today. Not with Si alive.

  “Whatsup?”

  “El Jefe, the Hoffens, and Si’s grandma Mary are all here, and they are all really mad.”

  I took a deep breath. Would not lose gratitude. Would stay in control. “Okay. I hear you. What do you suggest?”

  “Run.”

  I laughed.

  “If you could, anyway. They’re headed to the hospital to see Si. I don’t expect there will be a scene there, but if the sounds coming from Dr. Hoffen’s office are any indication, there will be a scene when you all get back here. If you can’t run, then…pray.”

  “Roger. That’s what I’m in the mood for anyway.”

  “It’s your funeral.”

  I ended the call, finished my eggs, and found a quiet garden near one of the hospital exits. I sat on a bench next to a tiny scotch pine, took a deep breath of the spicy Christmas like scent, and bowed my head. If I hadn’t gone after Si, he would have died, because he had been drinking and hadn’t been eating and was going to go surfing. I may have been absent from the school when I was supposed to be in charge, but I had saved the life of El Jefe’s nephew.

  The great, overwhelming, cleansing waves of peace that were supposed to follow that kind of inner knowledge did not come. But I still felt grateful. So glad that Si was alive, so glad Dani had called. So…thankful for everything that that was where I focused my prayer. The first serious praise session I had had since my proposal had been rejected, which just goes to show how that kind of thing can defeat a guy.

  I stayed that way, in and out of prayer, for about half an hour, then meandered off to Si’s room. I’d probably get there about the same time everyone else did. I’d want to be sure to wait in the hall so they could all have some time together, but I wasn’t scared, or worried, about meeting them. Even without the momentous kind of emotional experience of “knowing” that I would be completely forgiven for leaving the school, I had saved the boy’s life, so I was confident things would be fine.

  I stood in the clean, bright hallway outside of Si’s door and listened for a low murmur of conversation, but heard nothing. There was a bench in the hall, so I took it and stretched my legs out. If I was lucky, I could get a ride back to the school today. I had pulled out my phone again, ready to listen to my messages, when I noticed the “no cell phone” sign. I pocketed it and made a mental note to connect with Dani as soon as I could.

  If she and Stina had gotten a good start, she’d be back to school by now. I tried to remember what Stina had said about her photo shoot. There was a chance that she had gotten Dani as far as, say, Copenhagen, and then caught a plane to Venezuela, but Dani could get home from Copenhagen by herself.

  I stopped.

  A cold wind seemed to cut across my good attitude.

  If Dani had the car to herself, she would not come back to school.

  I pulled out my phone again to see what time she had called.

  The door to Si’s room swung open, revealing a tall, slim man with a full head of steely hair and a two-day beard. He turned to me, his eyes narrow, his face firm. “Isaac?”

  I stood up, at attention. I took a deep breath. “Yes, sir.”

  “Dr. Grey.” He put out his hand. “I’m Si Grey’s uncle, as you have guessed.” The only sign of emotion was a twitch near his jaw.

  “Good to meet you.” Wrong. Thing. To. Say.

  Dr. Grey exhaled slowly, through his nose. “You were in charge of the school while Steve and Megan were away?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And while you were there, my nephew left.”

  I nodded.

  He nodded.

  I wanted to point out that Si was alive at the hospital because of me, but maybe it was a good thing that my jaw seemed frozen.

  A small, mousy woman with curly silver hair and little round glasses on the end of her upturned nose came out. She was frowning.

  “Is there anything you would like to say right now?” Dr. Grey’s voice was as steely as his hair.

  “No, sir.” Probably also the wrong thing to say. “Well…” I had to try again. I gulped. “I am really thankful for the woman on the train who translated and got the ambulance for us, and had the Nutella.” And there went my chance for boosting my own actions. “If it wasn’t for her, I don’t know what would have happened.”

  Dr. Grey nodded again. I hoped I noticed a softening in his look, but I couldn’t tell.

  “He looks well.” The lady’s voice came out small, and sweet. The way you would hope a grandmother would sound. “But I do wish he could have had the sense to take his insulin with him.”

  “Just so. However,” Dr. Grey said.

  I didn’t like where that however was headed.

  “I hear that in the five days you were in charge, you had three runaways, and then, in a moment of sheer stupidity, you also left.”

  I opened my mouth to speak but didn’t say anything, so I stood there like a mouth breather. I couldn’t say “Yes, sir” to the tone in his voice—like this whole mess was somehow my fault.

  “Not that I think Steve and Megan were wise to take a long vacation in October with a new staffer in charge, and the guest lecturer not getting in until next week.” He placed his hand gently on his mother’s shoulder. “I’ll be praying about the right way to handle this situation.”

  “Yes, sir.” I wouldn’t say his tone had relaxed toward me in any way, but it was my turn to speak again, and that was the best I could come up with.

  “Thank you for saving our boy.” Grandma Mary extended a hand to me. I took it, some of that earlier gratitude falling on me again.

  “I just wish…” I shrugged.

  Grandma Mary patted my hand. “If wishes were horses…”

  I waited in
the hallway for another hour or so.

  Grandma Mary came back out, alone. “You go on back to the school, okay? We’ll bring Sioeli with us when they release him later today. And…” She gave me a warm smile. “Don’t worry too much about what will happen. The boy is all right. You will be too.”

  I gave her a grim sort of smile. “Thank you.”

  She went back into the hospital room, her message to me sent, whether she had said exactly what she had been told to say or not. All I had to do now was find my way to the train station and get back to the school.

  At least on the train I could finally listen to Dani’s message and find out exactly what horror she had gotten herself into now.

  Dani Honeywell 8

  We sat at a garden table at the hotel café. The top of the mesh metal table was slightly sticky where I leaned against it, so I sat back and fumbled awkwardly with my arms, sort of holding them in my lap, then crossing them, then uncrossing them.

  He was a nice-looking guy, and he kept smiling at me with a twinkle in his eye like he thought I was okay too—except I really didn’t want to give off the impression I was interested.

  I focused on the single sheet of paper that was the café menu. The prices seemed reasonable, but I didn’t have a solid grasp on pound to dollar. Angus was treating, so I ordered a black bean burger and a soda. Almost the cheapest dish, but not quite.

  He ordered salmon, so I breathed easier. I hadn’t taken advantage of his generosity.

  “What brought you to Gretna looking like a lost kitty?” He had a pint of Robert Bruce Porter—dark and thick with a head of creamy foam. The smell made me want to gag.

  “If you would believe it, I’m after my sister.”

  “Sure, I believe it.” He took a long drink. I wondered if he would have to chew it to get it down. People back home drank, I knew, in theory. But our cabin in the woods was a long way from most people, and I wasn’t used to being alone with men who drank. The way the beer disappeared made me nervous.

  “What are you doing in Gretna? Do you live here?” In addition to being overly conscious of the beer, I was aware of my need to share the gospel; someone had once told me that any time you had fifteen minutes alone with a person, you owed it to them to tell them about Jesus. I was here, in this half of the world, to go to Bible school. I should at least tell Angus that much and see where it went, but the words stuck in my throat.

  “I was in town for a job, but I’ve got to get back to Glasgow tomorrow.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I’m a bouncer right now.” He laughed. “I know I don’t look it, but it pays the rent.”

  It must have been obvious that I had no clue what he was talking about, because he laughed a little harder.

  “You know what I mean, right? I kick drunks out of the club, and don’t let underage kids in. I might look a bit small for the job, but I’ve got wiry strength.” He flexed his arm, which looked plenty strong to me, and not at all wiry. Then he blushed.

  I relaxed a little. If he could blush, he wasn’t all bad. “You do it to pay the rent, which must mean there’s something else you want to do instead.”

  “I’m in a band.” He shrugged. “Working the club scene helps us get gigs. It’s good to know people.” He took a long pull on his drink. “Our band opened for one only slightly bigger than us. One night show. But every chance to play is a good one, right?”

  He didn’t look like what I thought of when I thought of people in bar bands. For one, he was young and clean. But for another, he just had a kind of thoughtful, open expression. Boys in bar bands were supposed to be moody and dirty. “That sounds exciting to me.”

  He shrugged. “We’re just starting. Someday it will be exciting. What do you do? You’re in Gretna to get your sister, but you’re an American. Are you two just traveling?”

  And here was my chance. I sighed. Why did it always feel so hard to get the gospel out? “I go to Bible school in Sweden.”

  “Sweden? That’s cool. I’ve been once, and have always wanted to go back.”

  He had skipped the part about Bible school. Was he disinterested or was he hostile to the Bible? If I could get my tongue unstuck from the roof of my mouth, I could try and find out. “I like Sweden, too. It’s really pretty. What brought you there?” I sounded like my grandma and wanted nothing more than to shove a fork through my eyeball. But I refrained, and hoped I could relax a little and enjoy my surprise dinner with the cute Scotsman.

  “My folks took us to Astrid Lingren World—you know Pippi Longstocking, right? Astrid Lingren created her.”

  “I do.” I loved the little redheaded imp.

  “Astrid Lingren World is a theme park. I went fifteen years ago, so I really liked it. When I go back, I’ll skip the kiddie rides, though, and head to Stockholm for the club scene.”

  “Have you heard of the forest bike path thing, with the bridges and stuff?” I had less than zero interest in the club scene.

  “Oh, yeah, that looks incredible.”

  “That’s what I would do if I had my bike with me.”

  “So you’re more of an adventure type. Not much of a party girl.” He drained the last of his drink. I didn’t know how he got it all down, and food. My stomach protested at the thought. He waved down a waiter and ordered another. I was more than a little glad he wouldn’t be driving me home.

  “I’d say so. I’m definitely more of a country girl.”

  “I like country girls.” He laid into his salmon.

  I tried to check my phone for the time without getting caught. Every mouthful of dinner was a treasure, but every minute that passed increased the distance between me and Drew.

  “So how did you and your sister end up here if you were supposed to be at school in Sweden?”

  “It was travel weekend, so us North American kids could get a little sightseeing in, but my sister didn’t come back. I wanted to hunt her down and drag her back, but she’s been two steps ahead of me the whole time.”

  “And in the meantime you’re out picking up strange men and having your own good times?” He grinned. Or did he leer? The message was all in the eyes, and I couldn’t quite read it.

  “Not exactly.” I folded my paper napkin and set it on my plate. “I should run. I appreciate this meal so much, but I want to get back to Dover by morning.”

  “You really should sleep instead.” He lifted an eyebrow. That seemed suggestive, like a thing a leering kind of guy might do. Like someone who thought dinner bought him…dessert. I shivered.

  “I might pull over and nap on the way. I’ll see how I’m feeling.”

  He glanced at the hotel and shrugged. “Let me take care of this, then I’ll walk you to the car.” He left me at the table while he found the cashier to pay for the food.

  Night had fallen in earnest, and while I was glad to have an escort through town, I just wished that escort was the professor, or even my sister, instead of this Angus-the-bouncer character who had been drinking. Gretna didn’t look like a hostile kind of place, but it did have plenty of dark corners one could drag unsuspecting American girls.

  The walk back to the car was short, and I couldn’t seem to get the conversation back around to Bible school or Jesus or God or anything important. I blamed it on my nerves, but it wasn’t helped by how close to me Angus walked. It was not the same kind of personal space I am used to enjoying. And the sour sweetness of the beer on his breath hinted at menace behind everything he said.

  I unlocked my car with the remote, and Angus reached around me to open the door. “It was lovely meeting you, Dani. Any way you’d be interested in keeping in touch?” He leaned on the roof of my car, filling the space of the open door, so I couldn’t get in.

  “Sure.” I pulled out my phone. “What’s your number? I’ll text you next time I’m in Scotland.”

  I typed while he said his number.

  He ran his hand across his bald head and grinned. Did he expect me to push him out of the way? Did he ex
pect me to rush into his arms? Or fall on him in an attempt to make out in the car? I couldn’t tell. “So, I’ve got to go, if I want any chance of dragging my sister back to the school.”

  “Oh, sure, yeah.” He chuckled and stepped aside. He was still pretty close to the door, though, easy grabbing distance, if you know what I mean. I didn’t want to get in yet, not with the alarm bells going off in my head, and with him full of those two disgusting beers.

  We stood there, sort of facing off, for exactly five long breaths, then I stepped into the breach. I tried to do a “step and then slide into my seat” kind of thing, but my foot skidded and I bumped my hip into the doorjamb.

  His hand was under my elbow in two heartbeats. Firm, gripping. He helped me up.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. And offered him a silly, apologetic smile.

  Then he pulled me close and wrapped one of his beefy arms around me.

  He brought his stinking beer breath close to my face and pressed his lips to my forehead.

  Panic pressed against my rib cage, ready to fly out. Where was my mace? Where was my key chain? Where were the two years of self-defense classes I had taken? I tried to free myself from his grip by pressing back against his arm, but he pulled me closer.

  “It was so nice meeting you,” he whispered. “Promise you’ll call?”

  I looked up to see if he had a murderous/rapey kind of expression on his face or a friendly one, but he took that as an invitation and came in for a real kiss.

  I was faster than him, though. As he leaned down, I pressed up on my toes and hit the top of my head against his jaw.

  “Ouch!” He screamed like a girl, and the hand he had wrapped around me flew to his face. “What was that for?”

  I dropped into my seat and slammed my door shut.

  I had caught the corner of his flannel shirt, but I shifted to reverse and pressed the gas.

  He stumbled backward, twisting himself out of his shirt as I tried to drive off without killing him. He freed himself and jumped away. His mouth was a huge, angry black hole as he screamed something at me that I couldn’t hear.