Midnight Moon (The Unbidden Magic Series)

by Marilee Brothers

  “Earth to Allie.” Nicole’s voice pulled me from my gloomy thoughts. I looked up at her. “What’s happening, girlfriend?”

  She pointed at the aisle featuring golf equipment. “Check that guy out.” She waggled her eyebrows in appreciation. “Yummy. You know what? It just occurred to me, I’m completely out of golf balls. I’ll be right back.”

  Sure enough, a good-looking young guy in jeans and a white tank top was trying on golf gloves. He looked over at Nicole and smiled.

  I shook my head in mock despair. “You know you don’t play golf. Not that it matters.”

  Nicole flipped her hair and strolled slowly toward the golf display, nonchalantly pausing to check out a set of golf clubs on the endcap. She was an accomplished flirt. I always thought she was born in the wrong era. I could easily visualize her in a seventeenth-century royal court, dressed in fancy clothes, her devious mind spinning plots to capture the attention of the king.

  It wasn’t my job to judge her. She couldn’t help acting the way she did. As mentioned previously, the Bradford twins were dual natured. Their mortal half was devoutly religious. But, thanks to their father, the lust demon, the other half was a different story. From time to time, the demon took over and left the Catholic part of them twisting in the wind.

  I joined Beck and Mike in the camping aisle.

  Beck said, “What do you think, Allie? Two small tents or one big one?”

  Mike frowned. I was certain he’d vote for separate boy/girl quarters until he said, “One big tent. We don’t know what’s out there. We’ll be safer together.”

  I studied his face. His forehead was furrowed with worry lines, and his complexion was sallow. Maybe he and I were feeling the same evil presence.

  Beck, on the other hand, was practically bouncing up and down in his eagerness to kick some serious Trimark butt. Because he was super strong, his mother never allowed him to take part in sports like football or wrestling. She was afraid he’d accidentally kill somebody. So really, Beck had little in the way of a physical outlet other than sparring with his sister, who was pretty awesome herself.

  “Let’s grab some food and head for the tower,” he said. “We can check it out tonight. See if there’s any Trimarks hanging around.”

  Both Beck and Nicole had superior night vision. There was a drawback though. Their eyes glowed like molten gold unless they wore their special glasses. Still, I was super glad they were on my side.

  “Where’s Nicole?” Mike said.

  “Over on the golf aisle,” I said. “She spotted a cute guy.”

  Beck snorted. “Figures.”

  I punched him lightly in the arm. “Watch it, dazer boy. You’ve got no room to talk.”

  Beck grinned. “I’ll grab Nicole and meet you at checkout.”

  Shortly after, Mike paid for our items, and we waited at the front of the store for Beck and Nicole to show up. Fifteen minutes passed. I was trying to decide whether to be pissed off or worried.

  “You want me to go look for them?” I asked.

  “No,” Mike said. “As soon as you do that, they’ll show up. Then we’ll have to look for you.”

  Sounded like he’d been through that particular scenario before. I’d just plopped down on one of our new camp chairs when we spotted Beck hurrying toward us. Without Nicole.

  His face was ashen. “She’s not in the store,” he said.

  A sick feeling settled into the pit of my stomach as I recalled the overwhelming sense of evil surrounding me earlier. I took a deep breath and tried to hide my fear, still hoping for a logical explanation. “She has to be here,” I said. “Sure, she likes to flirt, but she’d never take off with some guy she never met before. Let’s keep looking.”

  Mike shot an anxious glance around the store, his face tight with worry. “Maybe she’s trying on clothes,” he said. “Allie can check out the fitting rooms.”

  Beck and I exchanged a look. Mike didn’t know Nicole very well. There was no way in hell she’d be caught dead trying on clothes in a Wal-Mart. But I nodded and said I’d look in each fitting room.

  “I’ll talk to the checkers. Maybe one of them saw her.” Mike said.

  I gave Mike a description of the boy trying on golf gloves. Beck went out to see if she’d gone to the car. I checked the jewelry section, the shoe department and the fitting rooms. No Nicole. I decided to zip through the golf section one last time. The aisle was empty. I turned to leave and that’s when I saw it. I slammed to a stop, not wanting to believe my eyes.

  A glittering length of silver chain was nestled between two boxes of golf balls. I froze for a moment, too surprised to move. Then I carefully lifted the chain from the stack of boxes. The chain was broken, as if someone had ripped it off Nicole’s neck. The cross was missing.

  My hands trembled as I pawed through stacks of boxes until I found the cross at the bottom of the display. I threaded the chain through the loop in the cross and tucked it into my pocket.

  As I headed back to meet the others, I fought the rising swell of panic I knew would rob me of all rational thought. Who or what had ripped that chain off Nicole? She’d never put it there herself. I spotted Beck standing next to the vision center, waving his arms and jawing at two security guards. One of them gazed at him with bored indifference. The other held up his hands in a placating gesture.

  Mike came up behind me. “A cashier saw a girl in a yellow shirt leave with a kid who had his arm around her. He was wearing a white tank top and jeans.”

  I pulled the broken chain and cross from my pocket and held it out for Mike to see. “It was tucked between two boxes of golf balls.”

  Mike stared at the cross in disbelief. “We need to tell Beck.”

  I leaned close and whispered, “I don’t understand. A Trimark would be afraid to touch the cross. So apparently this guy is just a perv. How did he get her out of the store? Nicole wouldn’t willingly walk out with him.”

  “Looks like she did.”

  I shook my head. “No way.”

  Beck strode toward us, the two security guards drifting reluctantly behind him. He took a look at my expression and said, “I knew she wasn’t in the store.”

  I held out the remains of Nicole’s silver cross.

  Shock registered briefly on Beck’s face, then his jaw tightened and his eyes flashed with molten anger. He snatched the cross and chain from my hand and thrust it out for the security guards to see. “Now do you believe me? Somebody ripped this off her neck and now she’s gone. What are you going to do about it?”

  We were gathering a small crowd of interested bystanders. One of the security guards said, “Take it easy, bub. Let’s dial it back a bit and go into my office. We’ll sort it out there.”

  “Don’t call me bub.” Beck stood, fists clenched, chin jutting forward, muscles swelling against his black tee. I figured he was about thirty seconds away from a major eruption, and I visualized the Gillette Wal-Mart littered with bodies. I had to talk him down.

  I placed a hand on his upper arm and leaned against him, “Beck. Let’s do as the man says. We need to sort this out. Just chill . . . okay?”

  I felt his muscles slowly uncoil. He glanced down at me, the fury slowly fading from his eyes. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Okay.”

  We followed the men into a cubbyhole of an office. Mike filled them in on what the checker had observed. The new information caused Beck’s eyes to flare, and I thought he was going to lose it again. But he managed to hold it together.

  The security guys were Larry and Frank. Larry seemed to be in charge. He sat behind the lone desk and scribbled some notes. Frank folded his arms, leaned against the wall and stared dully at the floor.

  Finally, Larry glanced up from his note taking. “Okay, I’m not sure what you want us to do. She’s a kid. She met a good-looking guy and took off with him. It happens. She got a cell phone?”

  Beck nodded. “I tried calling her. It went to voice mail.”

  Frank said, “There you go. Sh
e’s sneaking off with this guy and doesn’t want you bugging her. She’ll probably get in touch soon.”

  Beck shook his head, dangerously angry again. “No. You’re wrong. And what about this?” He held out the broken chain and cross. “She never takes it off. Somebody ripped it off her.”

  Larry sighed. “Okay, man. You want us to call the cops? I gotta tell you, though, they won’t do anything until she’s missing for forty-eight hours.”

  Beck obviously thought it over. Tomorrow night, a little over twenty-four hours from now, was the summer solstice. I could see the torment he was experiencing. It was written on his face. He was responsible for his sister. He was the one who’d have to make the call to Melissa and tell her Nicole was missing.

  Before he could open his mouth to answer, I said, “No, we don’t want you to call the police.”

  Beck’s eyes went wide with shock. Mike’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

  Beck flushed and said, “But, Allie . . .”

  I held up a hand. “We need to talk first. Then we can call the police. Please. Just trust me.”

  “Good idea.” Larry said, looking relieved. “She’s probably out in the parking lot right now. Waiting for you. Let us know if we can help.”

  Frank grunted his agreement and pushed away from the wall.

  I made a point of shaking hands with both security guards and thanked them for their help. Then I walked swiftly from the store, followed by Mike and Beck. Nobody said a word until we got to the rental van. Nicole, of course, was not there.

  “What’s going on, Allie?” Beck asked.

  “Frank’s a Trimark. I’m sure he knows where Nicole is. We have to kidnap him.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  WE SAT IN THE VAN and talked it over. Earlier, when Beck had thrust the cross toward the security guards, I’d seen Frank’s reaction. Beck and Mike were so caught up in the missing Nicole scenario, they hadn’t noticed. At the sight of the cross, Frank recoiled sharply and took a step backward. But I had to make sure. When I shook his hand, I was able to turn it slightly when I released it. And there it was. The inverted triangle. Down at the bottom of his palm at the intersection of the lifeline and heart line.

  Beck was firmly on board with my kidnapping idea. In fact, he could hardly wait. Not so, Mike Purdy.

  “Kidnap?” he repeated, a look of horror on his face. “It’s a federal crime, Allie. We could get in serious trouble. There has to be another way.”

  “No,” I assured him. “Frank’s a Trimark. There’s no way any Trimark would get involved with cops. Trust me on this.”

  “So when do we snatch him?” Beck said, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes.

  “I’m thinking the best time would be when his shift ends,” I said.

  Mike said, “But we don’t know his schedule.”

  “Not a problem,” Beck said. He pulled out his smart phone and punched the key for the Internet. A few keystrokes later, he asked Mike for a pen and scribbled some numbers on a scrap of paper. “Okay, I’ve got the phone number for this Wal-Mart. Now we have to come up with a believable story.”

  “Give me the phone,” I said.

  I dialed the number, listened to the options and punched zero. A woman answered.

  “Hi,” I said in a breathless voice. “I’m a friend of Frank, the security guard, and a few of us have a surprise party planned for him.”

  I listened to the woman’s response and replied, “No, it isn’t his birthday, but it’s a very special event. The thing is, we can’t remember exactly when he gets off work. We want to be next to his car and kind of, you know, snatch him up before he knows what’s happening.”

  I paused and giggled hysterically.

  The woman tittered right along with me and said that sounded like fun. Before she put me on hold to check Frank’s schedule, I warned, “Be sure not to tell him. Remember it’s a surprise.”

  She assured me she’d be as silent as a tomb. A few minutes later, I handed the phone back to Beck. “Frank gets off at six. His car is parked in the employees’ lot by the garden section.”

  Beck offered me his hand to slap. “Good job!”

  “Thanks. Did you notice everything I said was the absolute truth? I never said the surprise party was going to be a good one.”

  Mike still had misgivings. His left eye had developed a nasty involuntary twitch, and he took turns glaring at Beck and me. “You think this will be easy? You can’t just snatch somebody in broad daylight without causing a big scene.”

  “I have a plan,” I said. “But first, we need to go shopping and rent a motel room.”

  AFTER WE GATHERED what we needed and secured a room at the local Super 8, we still had time to kill. We found an all-you- can-eat buffet where Beck almost cleaned them out of food. Extreme stress apparently made him hungrier. Then we went back to the motel room and got it ready for Frank. We watched TV until four before heading back to Wal-Mart.

  Mike parked the van at the edge of the employees’ parking lot. We had no clue what kind of vehicle Frank drove. It was up to Mike and Beck to react quickly when they saw him approach his car. I’d be busy elsewhere, creating a diversion. I hoped.

  We hunkered down to wait for six o’clock and the change of shift. In spite of the warm evening, we all wore dark blue sweatshirts with hoods.

  “Oh, crap!” Beck yelled suddenly, slamming his fist against the dashboard.

  “What?”

  “Larry, the other security guard. What if they walk out together? He knows what we look like. Do we grab him too?”

  Mike groaned and shook his head in disgust. “See? That’s what I’m talking about. Something always comes up you don’t plan on. Hello, federal prison.”

  Obviously, I wasn’t very good at planning a kidnapping. Speaking mainly to myself, I said, “Okay, let’s not panic. We’ll think of something.”

  Long pause while we pondered our mutual problem. Finally, Mike reached for the door. “Stay here. I’ve got an idea.”

  He took off across the parking lot and disappeared inside the store. Fifteen minutes passed. Beck and I stared out the window, willing him to reappear. Shortly after, he rounded the end of the store and trotted to the van, his expression unreadable.

  He climbed in the van. “Larry got off at four. We’re okay.”

  Beck said, “What were you going to do if he got off at six?”

  “Tell him we found Nicole, and since he was the head security guard, she wanted to apologize for creating a scene. That we’d meet him at the front entrance when he got off work. I figured that would give us enough time to snatch Frank and get the hell out of here.”

  “Very impressive,” I said.

  Beck added, “Quick thinking, man.”

  “Yeah, let’s not get too complacent. Any number of things could still go wrong.”

  “If you have a better plan,” I said, “I’d love to hear it.” The words came out a little snottier than I’d intended.

  Mike turned in his seat. He studied my expression and then grinned. “Nope, we’re going to do it your way and we’re going to make it work.”

  “Okay then,” I huffed. “Let’s do it.”

  I exited the van at ten minutes to six, my hair tucked beneath a ball cap. Remember the rainbow streak? I meandered toward the entrance to the gated garden area. A section of the parking lot held piles of bagged-up peat moss and potting soil on pallets, items too large to keep inside the store. I stopped and studied each display, glancing around at the other customers. This time of the evening, there were only a few. A family of four. Baby in stroller. Bigger kid trailing behind. An employee stacking bags of steer manure. An older couple walking toward the door.

  I glanced at my watch and entered the store, strolling slowly through aisles amassed with petunias, pansies and marigolds. My heart thudded against my ribs, my mouth as dry as cotton. It was all about timing and I was the key. I licked my lips, wishing I had a bottle of water.

  At one minute to
six, I wandered back outside, stopping next to a pallet of peat moss. Same number of people outside, plus an elderly woman with a walker. I glanced across the parking lot. The rental van was slowly creeping along the edge of the lot. I gulped air and prayed.

  At the shift change, employees began to straggle out of the building toward their cars. No Frank. Was he working overtime? Maybe Mike was right. Maybe there were way too many variables for my plan to work.

  At ten past six, he appeared, thankfully alone. I made sure my back was turned as he walked by, only a couple of yards away from me. I glanced over my shoulder and watched him stroll across the parking lot toward a row of pick-up trucks parked at the far end of the lot. The van edged close to him.

  Now, Allie!

  I opened my mouth, inhaled a huge amount of air and let out a scream so shrill, so piercing, it was painful.

  I backpedaled, pointing at the pallet of peat moss and shrieked, “Snake! Snake! A rattlesnake crawled under the pallet.”

  The guy stacking bags started running toward me but stopped ten feet away. Staring at me goggle-eyed he sputtered, “Wha . . . wha?” The young mother screamed. Her husband picked up the bigger kid and said, “Everybody get in the store. Fast!” The older lady trailed after them, pushing her walker at warp speed.

  I continued dancing in place. “There! Under the pallet. It’s tail is sticking out. Do you see it?”

  Several people who’d been walking to their cars stopped and turned, gazing curiously at the scene I was making, as I hoped they would. A few moments later, I heard the prearranged signal—one long and three short beeps of the horn—and strolled away like I didn’t have a care in the world.

  Once I made sure nobody was watching me, I took off for the van that was slowly driving by. I scrambled into the passenger side of the van and slammed the door. Mike hit the gas and we barreled out of the parking lot. The huge crucifix hanging from the rearview mirror swung through the air, inscribing crazy figure eights.