Meet Me in Barcelona

by Mary Carter

  “Jean Sebastian?” He had only gotten a few steps away. He stopped, waited.

  “Someone broke into our apartment before. Moved things around.”

  “So maybe it is this husband?”

  “Can you just give a sweep of the apartment before you go? Make sure I’m alone?”

  Jean Sebastian hit his forehead. “Of course. God, I’m in such a hurry.” He stopped, grabbed her hand. “This is why we have to take our time,” he said. “We have to be able to think.” She nodded. Together they headed back to the apartment. They had gone a few steps before Grace realized they were still holding hands. She pulled away. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t even realize.”

  Grace gave a nervous laugh. “I didn’t either.”

  “Felt natural,” Jean Sebastian said very softly. Grace didn’t acknowledge it. What was happening? Cheese and crackers. Jake wouldn’t like this one bit. But her safety came first; they would both agree on that. The sweep of the apartment showed no one was hiding in closets or under the bed or in the shower. Jean Sebastian locked every single window and pulled all the shades.

  “I’m not leaving,” Jean Sebastian said. “I’ll wait out here while you shower. Then we’ll go to my place.”

  “No. I feel better now that you’ve checked.”

  “I don’t. Three of your friends are missing. Until we find them, I’m with you.”

  Grace opened her mouth to argue. He was right. She really didn’t want to be alone. “I won’t be long.”

  She had an awful, guilty feeling while she showered, and she didn’t know why. Maybe just the thought of being naked while another man was just outside the door. A man she was attracted to. Was he thinking about her in here? Imagining her naked body in the shower? She was the girl next door according to Marsh Everett. She certainly wasn’t having a girl-next-door experience. Did lusting for someone else in your fantasies count as cheating? Surely Jake fantasized about other women. Including Carrie Ann. He wouldn’t have been human if that little red dress of hers hadn’t prompted some sort of secret fantasy. Although there had to be a special room in hell for a girl who was having lustful fantasies about another man while her boyfriend was missing. Bad, Grace. Bad, bad, bad. To think, just a few days ago she was ready to spontaneously marry Jake in Spain. Maybe all of these thoughts were some sort of side effect of the drug’s wearing off. It made her feel less guilty to think so anyway.

  She ran the water as cold as she could stand it. She cupped her hands and gathered water and splashed it on her face. A memory flashed into her mind. Last night. Carrie Ann propping Grace up, bringing her into the bathroom.

  “I think you drank mine,” she had said. “I think he was trying to drug me.” Carrie Ann had sounded truly panicked.

  “Who?” Grace had said. She had begun to slip down the wall. “Where’s Jake?”

  “Oh, God.” Carrie Ann had pulled her up. She had turned the water on. Splashed some on Grace’s face. “I have to get you home.”

  “I feel funny.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sure it was meant for me.”

  “Are you lying? You were always such a liar.” Had she really said that to Carrie Ann? “You even lied about library books.” Oh, God. She had said it. Carrie Ann’s eyes, kind a few seconds before, had flashed.

  “Library books?”

  “I let you have my library card,” Grace had slurred. Why wasn’t the wall holding her up? “You took out like ten books. And then weeks later the librarian was calling me, asking where they were. What did you say? ‘I took them back, Grace. I swear I took them back.’ And where did I find them?”

  Under her bed, where Carrie Ann stashed everything.

  Grace had been on the floor again. Carrie Ann had squatted down so that they were eye-to-eye. “Is that why you thought I was lying about Mr. Gale?”

  “How many times do I have to tell you? I didn’t tell! I didn’t tell!”

  “I know you didn’t tell, Grace. My question is—why? Why wouldn’t you tell something like that?” If Grace could trust her memory, Carrie Ann had been leaning over her.

  “Because you’re a liar!”

  “You have no idea how much you hurt me,” Carrie Ann had said.

  What happened then? Grace couldn’t remember. Had Carrie Ann stormed off? Had she just left her there?

  Did you strangle Brady, Carrie Ann?

  Grace turned off the shower even though she was still soapy. “Stop,” she said out loud.

  There was a knock on the bathroom door. “You okay?”

  Grace’s heart pounded. Was it because of the memory, because the knock had startled her, or because in another world it would be so tempting to say, “Come in”? “Fine. Water just got too hot.”

  “Be careful.” God, that accent. She’d better hurry and find Jake because he was not going to like her hanging out with Jean Sebastian. She turned the water back on and proceeded to rinse off.

  If she had really said all those things to Carrie Ann last night, then Grace could see Carrie Ann leaving her on the bathroom floor.

  Why? Why wouldn’t you tell something like that?

  A realization, as cold as the water blasting her, hit Grace. Carrie Ann might have been telling the truth about Lionel.

  It had honestly never occurred to her. And Grace had done nothing. Said nothing. And Carrie Ann had hated her ever since.

  Oh, God. Grace turned the water off, but leaned her head against the shower wall. Lionel Gale. Carrie Ann. Stan. It was all so painful. Time hadn’t done anything but make the memories worse. And they were coming back to haunt her. She had to squelch her emotions. She had to think.

  She had been drugged first. Where had Jake been when they were fighting in the bathroom? What had happened next? And if she was remembering things, was Jean Sebastian? She glanced at the bathroom door. She wondered what he was doing out there. She trusted him, and yet he was a complete stranger. She didn’t have much of a choice. And if he did start remembering things, she prayed whatever those memories were, they would help lead her back to Jake.

  Jean Sebastian was standing over Jake’s laptop when she came out of the shower. Wrapped only in a towel, she hurried to the bedroom to change. She slipped on a yellow sundress and slid into her comfy flip-flops. She brushed her hair out and stuck a band around it. She almost called out to “Jake” in the other room. She sat down on the bed, suddenly aware of how fatigued she was. Jake was missing. Where the hell were Carrie Ann, Rafael, and Jake? She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anyone in her life. Why had she lied to her parents? What was she supposed to do now? She just wanted Jake, and she wanted to be on a plane back to Nashville. Tears came easily, and hard. Soon she felt a presence in the doorway.

  “I’m sorry,” Jean Sebastian said. “Don’t worry. We’ll find them.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  He walked closer. “We know someone is deliberately doing this, right? They drugged you; they drugged me. So this is not an accident. Whoever this is will have to start communicating with us.”

  “What if they hurt him?”

  “Before we even know what they want?” Jean Sebastian said. “This is not very likely.”

  “When you were in the Congo, did you ever face anything like this?”

  “Yes. Twice armed men with masks and guns took us hostage in the center. The first time for two days; the second time for twelve days.”

  “My God. Was anyone hurt?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ve just—never dealt with anything like this before.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude. It’s just—not something I like to talk about.”

  Grace looked up. “Believe me, I know what you mean.”

  “You do?”

  “Carrie Ann. Carrie Ann is someone I never liked to talk about.”

  Jean Sebastian took another few steps. “You might have to. If you think she’s the reason this is hap
pening.”

  Grace sprung from the bed. “I know she’s the reason this is happening. She lured Jake and me here under false pretenses. She left little clues—a matchbook, writing in another book, tickets under the door—”

  “Why? What did she want?”

  “She said she wanted to see me. She said her husband was after her. But I remembered something from last night when I was drugged. It came to me in the shower. Are you starting to have any flashbacks?”

  Jean Sebastian shook his head. “What did you remember?”

  “I had a little fight with Carrie Ann in the bathroom. About our past.”

  “Okay. You’re going to have to tell me everything. But for now—do you think Carrie Ann is doing this, or is her husband doing this?”

  “I don’t know. When I Googled Carrie Ann, I couldn’t find a single thing. And all her ID—which I have, by the way—has her last name. Gilbert. Not Gale.”

  “So she could be lying about being married? She could be doing this all on her own?”

  “I don’t know. Manipulating, playing games—sure. But drugging and kidnapping? It seems a little out of her scope.”

  “Even if she strangled your cat?”

  And drove Lionel Gale to his barn with a rope in his hand—“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not. None of this is okay. And if Jake is hurt, it’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

  “Gather everything you need. We’re not coming back here until we find them.”

  “Why? This is exactly where Jake will come the minute he’s able.”

  “We’ll leave him a note with your new mobile number. I think we need to buy two more phones. One for me and another one for you. The phone you already have will just be the number for Jake. Only give the other phone number to Carrie Ann or anyone else you get in touch with. That way—if she is behind this—you know the first phone number won’t be compromised.”

  “Okay. That’s good. That’s smart.”

  “Besides Jake, have you made or received any other calls on the phone we just bought?”

  “No.”

  “Not to your parents, not to anyone?”

  “Just Jake.”

  “Okay. Pack whatever you need and leave him a note with the number.”

  “After we buy the phones, where are we going?”

  “I have to stop by my place. Then we’ll go to the police. I don’t think they’re going to be much help. But I can see it will make you feel better. After that we’ll hit social media, then at seven o’clock tonight we’ll be back at the club.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “We have to talk to bartenders, bouncers—anyone who might have seen anything.”

  Grace nodded, threw a few things in her bag, and left Jake the same note she’d left on his e-mail and voice mail. Once outside, Grace couldn’t help but check her map for the police station. “It’s on La Rambla,” she said.

  “You want to go there before going to my place, don’t you?” Jean Sebastian said.

  “Yes. I think we need to report this right away.”

  “Okay. I will not worry about my smell.”

  “I didn’t even think to offer you my shower,” Grace said. Because I was too worried about sharing one with you.

  “That’s okay. I need fresh clothes.”

  “If it helps, I think you look fine. I’m the one going in with wet hair.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  The compliment hung in the air. Grace waited a few beats too long to thank him. “Lead the way.” She said it with extra volume as if that would negate her awkwardness. On the steps of the police station, a discarded poster caught Grace’s eye.

  VOLEM UN BARRI DIGNE!!!

  “What does that mean?” Grace said.

  “We want a decent neighborhood,” Jean Sebastian translated. “You see this sign in a lot of Barcelona neighborhoods. Too many pickpockets and prostitutes.”

  “And kidnappers,” Grace said.

  “Before we go in”—Jean Sebastian touched her elbow—“I don’t want you to be disappointed. It will be a lot of paperwork. Questions. They will want photos too—”

  “I didn’t even think of that. I’ll have to log on to my Facebook page. Will they let me do that here?”

  “I doubt it. In addition they will probably advise you to contact the American embassy. The embassy won’t be able to do much either. And they will ask if you have contacted his family.”

  “I am his family.”

  “Yes. But his mother, father. The same with Carrie Ann.”

  “I’m her family too.” According to Carrie Ann, at least. “I don’t have any pictures on me. Jake took videos of us, and he said he uploaded some. If I can get into his e-mail, maybe I could show the police the videos.”

  “They aren’t set up to let everyone start downloading things from the computer. I know we’re going to have to come back with a photo we can put in their hands. This is what you will need for any media coverage too.”

  Media coverage. The news. A “Missing” poster. She wanted to crumple on the steps and cry. But she couldn’t. She had to have tunnel vision and find Jake. “Damn it. I’m not sure I even know how to print pictures from Facebook. Do you?”

  “We can figure it out.”

  “Would an Internet café let me do that?”

  “I have a printer at my hotel.”

  “I guess we should have stuck to your plan,” Grace said. “Now it’s your turn to lead the way.”

  “Let’s stop and get a few more phones first,” Jean Sebastian said.

  Grace was afraid to use up her cash on additional phones. She would also have to cancel her credit cards the minute they got to Jean Sebastian’s hotel. Or hostel, or wherever he was sleeping. “You have Carrie Ann’s credit card, right?” Jean Sebastian said. Grace nodded. “Use it.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “At the least maybe it will get her attention.”

  Grace hadn’t thought of that. “Smart. Okay. I’ll use her credit card to buy the phones and if you think spending more might get her attention, draw her out of hiding, then I’ll buy out the whole kiosk.”

  “Let’s not go overboard,” Jean Sebastian said. He patted her on the back. Grace nodded.

  In addition to phones the kiosk sold the usual tourist fare. T-shirts, and postcards, and cigarettes, and maps, and hats, and sunglasses. Grace bought the two phones, T-shirts for her parents, then one for Jake’s mom, then figured the heck with it and bought one for herself and one for Jake. WISH YOU WERE HERE. It was never so true as it was now. She also picked up a pair of sunglasses, a few candy bars, and another camera. She hoped wherever Jake was, he still had his second video camera. Maybe she would take Carrie Ann’s original advice and buy him an expensive one with Carrie Ann’s credit card. The bill here came to one hundred and forty euro. She wasn’t prepared to sign Carrie Ann’s name, so when the slip was pushed her way, she hesitated. She tried to remember what Carrie Ann’s signature looked like. Did it really even matter? She made the signature neat and loopy, like the writing on the invitation to Casa Batlló that Carrie Ann had slipped under the door. That felt like ages ago. Grace was suddenly so tired. She stumbled, and Jean Sebastian had to grab her elbow to keep her from hitting the pavement.

  “When we get to my hotel, you’re taking a nap,” he said.

  “I can’t. There’s too much to do.”

  “We were drugged last night. Our bodies are still feeling the effects. You won’t be any good to Jake if you faint. You are taking at least an hour’s nap.”

  Did he have a tiny room? She wasn’t sure she’d even be able to fall asleep. She’d probably feel too guilty. First showering with Jean Sebastian in the other room, then sleeping nearby? Then again, she might not have much of a choice. He was right; they needed their strength.

  “An hour,” she said. “Maybe I can even get my own room.”

  “You won’t need to do that,�
�� Jean Sebastian said.

  “I think you’re right about the credit card though,” Grace said. “The more I use it, the more someone—hopefully Carrie Ann—will come out of hiding.”

  “As long as we don’t waste it,” Jean Sebastian said. “You can decide when you see my place. We could walk, but given our hurry I think we should hop in a cab. I can get it.”

  Jean Sebastian flagged down a cab before Grace could agree or disagree. She did want to get the picture of Jake and get to the police office. She tried Jake’s phone again as they raced down the street. Jean Sebastian must have told the cab driver to step on it in Spanish or perhaps they all drove like they had a death wish. Grace was expecting Jake’s phone to be shut off, but this time voice mail was working. Did that mean Jake or someone else had done something with the phone? It was encouraging.

  “Jake. It’s Grace. My God, I hope you get this. If this is someone else, please call and tell me how you got this phone. Or tell me what I need to do to see Jake again. Please.” Her voice cracked; she didn’t know what was the appropriate thing to do in this situation. Beg? Threaten? “Whoever is listening to this, call or text this number right away. I’m going to the police in exactly one hour.” There. A little bit of begging, a little bit of threatening. Grace left the number slowly and clearly. “I love you, Jake.” When she hung up she was aware of Jean Sebastian staring at her. They were driving along the walkway to the beach; the ocean shimmered in the background. Grace had to bite the side of her cheek really, really hard.

  “How long have you been together?” Jean Sebastian asked quietly.

  “Three years.”

  “Was it love at first sight or did it take time to fall in love with him?”

  Grace wasn’t expecting the question. But the memory brought her instant comfort and fueled her resolve that they were going to find Jake as soon as possible. “I found a stray kitten,” she said. “Jake was my vet. The kitten had been thrown out of a moving car. We had to put him down.”