by Tami Kidd
“CPAP.” Alex chuckled. “Thanks, goodnight, now—”
Come on, geez will you two ladies shut it,” Doyle hollered. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
A flash of lightening lit the inside of the van. Seconds later, a large, bone-shattering boom vibrated Alex’s gut. The storm was getting worse. Tornados entered his mind. He knew this part of the country was notorious for killer tornados. Tornado Alley he had heard it referred to. His heart raced as he thought about Mara. He hoped she was safe.
Twenty-One
Noah sat on the side of the bed, his elbows resting on tired, worn-out knees and his calloused hands supporting his head.
“Honey, come to bed. Alex will call soon,” Patty said, caressing her husband’s back.
“He should have called me by now. It’s been hours since he met with that Doyle fella.” Noah picked up the digital clock from the bedside table. The big red letters stared back, taunting him, mocking him. “I called his cell phone probably six or seven times. I called the hotel and left messages and still no word. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”
“Hon, he’ll call you, now get some rest.”
Noah sighed and stretched out his long, lean body beside his wife. He wouldn’t rest, couldn’t rest, worried something had happened to Alex. Noah didn’t know what to do. He closed his eyes and prayed Mara was all right, Alex was safe, and all this would work out soon. He asked God to watch over them all. Finished praying, he rolled over to his wife and kissed her soft, sweet lips. Just as he was about to say good night, his cell phone chirped. Noah grabbed it and tapped the screen to open the message. His breath caught as he read the text.
Patty leaned on her elbows and waited. “Is it from Alex?”
Noah turned the lamp on and stared at his wife.
“What?” she asked.
“Get up, Alex is in trouble.” He bolted to the closet for his clothes.
Patty flung the sheet off her and jumped to her feet. “What happened? What did the message say, Noah?”
“Doyle abducted him. He’s taking Alex to Florida. We have to call the sheriff; we have to get help.”
Patty grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed and put it on inside out. “I’ll put on some coffee,” she said as she left the bedroom.
****
Forty-five minutes later, Deputy Sullivan Casey sat across the table from Noah, his calloused hands holding a cup of coffee.
“Too bad Alex didn’t give you a little more information, like the tag number of the van,” Deputy Casey said.
“I think he did pretty good considering the pressure he’s under. Besides, the description should be enough to spot it a mile away.”
Patty turned from the refrigerator where she pulled out an apple pie missing a slice. She sat the pie on the table between the two men. “What’s the plan, Sully?” she asked taking plates from the cupboard and carrying them to the table.
“Well, the first thing is put out a statewide APB.” He raised his hand to stop any interruption. “I know, they’re already out of the state, but I have to do this by the book. Next, I contact the authorities in Mississippi, Alabama, and Florida. Provide them with a description of the vehicle, tell them the situation, and hope they grab them when they cross into Florida.”
Noah cut a slice of pie, placed it on a plate, and handed it to Sully. “Seems like more could be done.”
Talking with a mouthful of pie, Sully said. “I know it don’t seem like much, but it’s about all we can do for now without more to go on.”
Clutching her inside out robe, Patty walked over to Noah and kissed his cheek. “I’m going to go get dressed.”
Noah nodded. When she left the room, he looked at Sully who was washing down another bite of pie with coffee. “I’m going down there.”
“Where?” His eyes widened when he realized what Noah meant. “You can’t go to Florida. They have a half a day’s head start on you. You’ll never catch them.”
“Not by car. Wally White has a small Cessna. I know I could get him to fly me down.”
“Even in a Cessna, you ain’t going to catch them.”
“Maybe not, but I can’t sit around here and twiddle my thumbs.” A knock on the door made Noah jump, and without waiting for an invitation to enter, his son Asher walked into the kitchen.
Wearing his Arkansas Department of Correction uniform, Asher looked clean shaven and bright eyed for the late hour. “I saw Sully’s car out front and thought I’d stop in to see what’s going on. Have you heard anything about Aunt Mara?” Asher headed for the coffee. The spitting image of Noah, his olive complexion, muddy eyes, and dark hair gave him an alluring movie star charm. His football physique had made him popular with the girls in high school. At twenty-seven, he maintained his lean body, which benefited him as a guard at the Arkansas Correctional Facility in Malvern. The recently opened facility offered new jobs to the area. Asher was one of the benefactors, providing for a wife and two children his top priority.
“We still don’t have any news on Mara, but Alex has been abducted, and his captors are taking him to Florida.”
“I found out who Doyle Fisher’s bunkmate was while he was incarcerated at Forrest City. Kale Kapena, a native of Hawaii, served time for forgery and hot checks.” Asher sat down and took a drink from his cup. “Apparently, after they were released, each one just a couple months apart, they continued to be friends on the outside. Kale moved to Hot Springs.” “He originally lived in Little Rock where he worked for a medical supply company. He has a grandmother who lives in Hawaii, along with a brother and sister. He’s been sending the grandmother money for years to help her out. My sources say he tried to get her to move to the mainland, but she refuses to get on a plane.”
“In his text, Alex said Doyle Fisher and a friend abducted him. Most likely, Kapena is the man. Good job, Ash.”
Sully drained the last remnants of his coffee and rose. He took the plate and sat it in the sink. “I have to get going.”
Patty entered the kitchen with a bright smile as she walked over and planted a kiss on the top of Asher’s head. “Sweetie, want some pie?”
“Nah, I’m good. Coffee’s enough,” he said raising his cup.
“Patty, your pies are the best,” Sully said as he kissed her cheek.
“Thanks.” Patty’s face turned crimson from the attention.
“Noah, I’ll get this info put in, and I’ll be in touch. Now you listen to what I said. Don’t you go running off to Florida. It’s a fool thing to do. Let the professionals handle this.”
Patty’s head turned to Noah.
He raised a hand, knowing the look on her face and the warnings that were about to be slung in his direction.
“Don’t worry, hon, it was just a thought. Sully convinced me it was a bad idea.”
“It is and, Patty, don’t you let him change his mind. We have enough people missing. We don’t need to add one more to the list.” Sully stepped into the dark.
The room fell silent, except for the purr of the cruiser’s engine starting.
“Dad, I know you. You aren’t going to give up that easily, are you?”
“Ash!” Patty scolded. “You hush right now. Your father doesn’t need to be taking on these people. There’s no telling what they’re capable of. They were apparently good enough to take Alex by surprise, and they may be the ones who took your Aunt Mara too.”
Noah rose and walked over to his wife. He tenderly placed his palm on her cheek. “Ole gal, I’m not going to argue with you on this. I’ve got to do what I can for my family.”
Patty closed her eyes and nodded slowly. “You be careful and come back to me.” She put her arms around him and squeezed him hard enough to make him catch his breath.
Letting go of his wife, he looked at Asher. “Son, call Wally White and see if he’ll fly me to Florida.”
“Yes, sir. I’m coming too.”
Noah nodded. He would prefer to keep his son out of it, but he was a grown man who
made his own decisions.
Twenty-Two
Mara’s face felt numb, cold, and her head throbbed. Her eyelids fluttered, and the action caused the throbbing to increase. She squeezed her eyes tight until the pain subsided. After which, she realized she had been laying on a hard surface, like a concrete floor. Trying to recall how she got in this position, she put her hand over her eyes to shield them from the light and took several calming breaths. I’m getting too old for this shit.
A moan sounded from her left. She turned her head to see Michael Porter lying a few feet away. She tried to sit up, but the throbbing in her head prevented her from rising. “Mr. Porter, are you alright?”
“Hmm, not really.”
“What happened? Do you know where we are?” When he didn’t respond, Mara, forced herself to sit upright. “Mr. Porter? Michael?” Mara climbed to her hands and knees and crawled an inch at a time toward the man. When she reached him, she realized he had passed out. She shook him lightly. “Mr. Porter, wake up.”
His eyes fluttered. “What?”
“Michael, you need to wake up. I think we’re in trouble.”
Raising his hands to his forehead, he rubbed his eyes. “I think that’s an understatement, Ms. Byrne.”
“Maybe so, but we need to figure out where we are and what has happened to the others.”
“Others?”
“Sophie and Dodger.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I’m a little out of it. It’s all coming back to me now.”
“The last thing I remember is that we were ambushed at Sophie’s house, and then someone dragged us bodily into a helicopter.” She squinted as a wave of pain hit her. After it passed, she continued. “Then we were injected with something.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Pretty much what I remember too. They killed Opie.” Pounding his fist on the floor, he said, “Assholes.”
Mara looked around at the square room with a steel door and walls made of cement blocks. A single window high above the door let the only light inside. The floors were bare, the room vacant of furniture. Mara looked at Michael and noticed a large cut over his left eyebrow. The wound, a brownish blob didn’t look like it needed stitches, but it could use a good cleaning. Mara pulled out a clean tissue out of her shorts pocket and placed it in front of his mouth. “Spit,” she ordered.
“What?” He gave her a puzzled look.
“Just do it. Spit into the tissue.” Her eyes brightened when he did as commanded. Using the damp tissue, she wiped the wound gently, removing most of the dried blood. Underneath the cut, a bump protruded.
“Ouch!” Michael jerked his head back.
She took it firmly in her other hand. “Don’t be a baby. You have a nasty bump and cut, but you’ll live.” After she finished her assessment and treatment, she handed him the tissue. “Keep it in case it starts to bleed later.” She watched him stuff it into his jacket pocket, noticing for the first time that his knuckles were bloody when he pulled his hand out. “Looks like you did your best to fight back.”
“Apparently not hard enough.”
“I think you were outnumbered. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“This is exactly what the president was trying to avoid; something happening to you, like Jessica Foster.”
“Things don’t always work out as planned. We just have to figure a way to get out of here.”
“Doesn’t look like it’s going to be easy,” he said, nodding toward the lone door.
“A lot of things in life aren’t easy, but that doesn’t mean they’re impossible.” Mara stood and offered her hand to him, which Michael grasped it and rose. Together they reached the door. Like a silent sentry who prevented them from exiting, the gray door stood between them and freedom.
Michael placed an ear to the door. “I don’t hear anything,” he whispered.
“Take a look,” Mara mouthed.
Michael placed his hand on the knob and turned. It resisted. “Locked.”
“Well, I guess it was wishful thinking that we could just walk out of here.”
“Do you have anything in your pockets?” He inclined his head toward her shorts.
“No, sorry, just another tissue.”
Michael opened his mouth to say something, but footsteps and voices outside the door interrupted him.
Mara and Michael took several steps back, keeping their gazed fixed on the door. The gray barricade opened wide and they had to shield their eyes. Two figures bathed in bright light stood at the entrance.
Mara’s mouth gaped when her eyesight adjusted. A fit man in his sixties dressed in military fatigues blocked the entrance. The person slightly behind him caused Mara’s breath to hitch. Looking healthy and unharmed was a woman who she immediately recognized—Dr. Jessica Foster.
Twenty-Three
Jessica Foster and the man walked into the cellblock. Mara stood frozen in place unable to believe her eyes.
The man looked between Mara and Dr. Foster and said, “I believe you ladies are acquainted with each other. Dr. Foster, this gentleman is Michael Porter.” He inclined his gray head toward Michael.
“Who are you?” Michael asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry, how rude of me. My name is Duncan.” He smiled revealing pearly white teeth.
“What about your last name?” Mara asked.
The man ignored her question and turned away, extending his arm. Duncan said, “Come with me, please.”
Outside the door, two armed guards stood rigid as statues. The weather was warm and humid. A beautiful azure sky spread overhead. Mara looked for the sun hidden by towering pines. Unable to find it, she studied Dr. Foster instead, who walked ahead alongside Duncan. Time had not changed her.
It had been well over a year since Mara and Alex confronted her about the letter: the crazy letter that had turned her life upside down. Dr. Foster wrote it for Thomas, Mara’s husband just before his death. When Mara found the letter, she believed the two had been having an affair and made it her mission to discover the truth. Thirty years of marriage would not be destroyed by unanswered questions. The possibility that her happy marriage had been an illusion all along, provoked her search for Dr. Foster and for answers.
Watching her now, strolling wordlessly ahead, Mara couldn’t help but wonder why she was here. She turned to look at Michael Porter as he limped awkwardly forward with each step. I wish Alex was here. Mara focused her attention back on Dr. Foster, noticing her hands were not tied, but neither were hers or Michael’s. Her clothing appeared well kept, clean and without wrinkles. Given the days that had passed since her abduction, she visibly looked quite well considering the events.
They reached a clearing where the sunshine broke into golden rays. In the distance, a tall chain fence caught Mara’s attention. The trucks parked on the opposite side of the fence made her pulse quicken. The area had the look and feel of a compound. A small cement-block building stood to their right, and to their left, a larger similar building painted forest green with a brown metal roof. The larger structure seemed to be their destination.
Duncan opened the door. “Please come inside.”
Mara scanned the large space, its walls painted the same forest green as the outside. A brown-leather couch hugged the wall to the left of the entrance. A coffee table and two chairs were grouped in front of the couch. A gray partition, the type you find in offices, separated the area. From her vantage point, Mara couldn’t make out what lay behind the partition. Directly ahead, a large conference table with eight chairs occupied the center of the room.
Duncan directed the group to the right where a desk and four straight back chairs filled the remaining front section. Another partition separated this space from the area behind it. The front area served a dual purpose: as an office and living area. He sat down behind the desk and waved them to the chairs. “Please, take a seat; we have things to discuss.” After they were all seated, Duncan smiled and clasped his hands together. He inhaled deeply and then spoke directly to Mara. “May I call
you Mara?”
“Seems like you’re in charge here, so I think you can call me whatever you choose.” Mara pressed her lips together in what she hoped to be a shit-eating grin.
“Yes, I guess you’re right. Anyway, Mara, I assume you know why I have brought you here.”
“No, enlighten me.”
“Fine. Let me explain. I’m looking for something that I hope you can help me find.”
Mara looked at Dr. Foster. If she’s here, why does he need me?
Twenty-Four
The twin turboprop Cessna landed at Pensacola International Airport and taxied to the general aviation terminal where private planes were guided. After a required security check, Wally White, Noah Carpenter, and his son Asher walked to the car rental counter. The clock on the wall behind the desk indicated it was 7:15 a.m.
“I’d like to rent an SUV,” Noah said to the sharp-dressed young man behind the counter. His bright smile and friendly eyes invited them all and made Noah feel welcome.
“Certainly sir, may I have a credit card and driver’s license?”
Noah opened his wallet and pulled out the requested items.
“How long will you be renting the vehicle?”
“I’m not sure, probably not more than a couple days.” Noah turned to his companions for guidance and received only shrugs in answer.
The clerk recited by heart, the required additional information about insurance and gas policy. Noah signed on the dotted lines and they left with the keys to a shiny black Chevy Tahoe.
