by Sarah Hualde
“Never heard of him.” Ben laid down a napkin and utensil set though it was unneeded.
“I heard he worked here. Maybe if I spoke to the manager, he could let me know which restaurant he works at.”
“Sure.” Ben exited, to the back, with a casual shrug and a quick step. His voice was loud enough to identify, but not clear enough to understand. Another male tone joined his conversation. Lydia remained cool, craning an ear toward the beverage center but not making eye contact. A waitress left the back, and the swinging door revealed Ben scuffling to the nearest window, facing the parking lot. “Dude, that’s her truck.” The doors closed before she could catch the face of Ben’s counterpart.
Lydia peeked out the window at her own vehicle. “Beans and rice,” she huffed and took a deliberate sip of tea. Ethan’s “I might be the Sheriff, but my wife’s the Boss” joke bumper sticker stood out like a beacon of doom. She’d forgotten it was there.
Mr. Levere, Lydia surmised, rocketed over the counter and out the front doors of the restaurant. His face was indistinguishable, other than the blur of panic and adrenaline plastered across it. “Well, that looks innocent.”
His buddy shouted encouragement in the form of curses and fist-pumping. Lydia rolled her eyes. She’d have to run after him, she supposed. But she’d worn her cute boots, and the restaurant had hardwood flooring. If she attempted a sprint, she would wind up sprawled out on the floor. She needed to figure out where Martin hid and get there ahead of him.
A timid worker bumped her tray into Lydia’s shoulder as she passed to clear the next table. The fist-pumper retreated to the back of the restaurant glaring one more time at Lydia. Lydia scooped up her jacket and made for the door when a small, purple nailed hand grabbed her shoulder.
“Can we talk?” The busser whispered. Lydia nodded, reluctant to let Martin get away, but happy to have a better reason than footwear not to bolt after him. “I’m off in ten minutes.”
Lydia lowered her voice to match the quiet girl’s. “I’ll be waiting in the blue pickup out front. I’ll have the heater running.” Without another word, the girl wiped the table down with a bleach covered rag and moved to the next table. Lydia, sure she wasn’t receiving service anymore from Ben, left cash to cover her uneaten order and left her booth. Diners speculated and gestured about the running youth and his grand hurdle over the counter.
CHAPTER 12
Kat texted Lydia, checking in on her adventure, while Lydia waited in the warming cab of her truck. She responded with thumbs up and an update of her location. Ethan would be proud of Lydia, informing friends of her whereabouts and horrified that she placed herself in danger. She jumped when the young worker knocked on the truck window. The girl’s nervous smile evoked Lydia’s compassion. She unlocked the passenger door.
“So, before we get talking, what’s your name? I’m Lydia. My husband and I live in Honey Pot.”
The girl locked her door and rubbed her hands together in front of the heater vent. “I’m Tammy.”
“Nice to meet you, Tammy. Is there any place you’d like me to drive you?” The girl nodded and adjusted her purse strap.
“Yes, please. Just drive away before Ben sees me talking to you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lydia drove away, pulling on the road with no destination in mind. The further from the restaurant, the truck rolled, the easier Tammy breathed and the less she checked the side mirror. Ben must be a real treat to have you so scared. “Are you hungry? I could use dessert.”
“But you ate?”
“Some of the staff members made me lose my appetite. Let’s snag a cinnamon bun.” Tammy grinned. When she smiled, she looked too young to be working. Lydia chose not to pry but tried to let Tammy relax.
They ate their sticky treats in the warmth of Lydia’s truck. Tammy took a deep breath and began her tale. “You were looking for Martin? I heard Ben talking to him in the back.”
“I’m looking for a girl named Ivy. She’s about your age. I was wondering if Martin might know where she is.”
“Oh. I don’t know Ivy. But I know Martin. And Ben. I wish I didn’t. After Christmas, I’m quitting the restaurant just to get away from them.” Tammy slurped on her hot chocolate and shivered. “They’re creeps.”
“I got that feeling.”
“Your feeling is right. Martin and Ben know a lot of girls. They show up at work, asking for them anyway. You’re the first lady to ask for them. When Martin ran away, I figured if you scared him, you might be a decent person. Or I wouldn’t have gotten in the truck with you.” Tammy stared at Lydia, taking her in for the first time, realizing what a stupid thing she’d done.
“So, how can I help you, Tammy?”
“Martin and Ben know a lot of girls like I said. But not in a good way. Some girls come in. They act all flirty and too sugary sweet. But the girls who come to see Martin, they’re empty and old in the eyes. Some are my age; some are a bit older. But all of them look dead inside.”
“Why do you think?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to know. I think once you know it’s too late to get away. There was this cute girl from my school. I don’t remember her name, but I recognized her. She used to wear cartoon shirts and ponytails. She bounced with life. Do you understand what I mean?” Lydia visualized and nodded. “Well, she came in once all bouncy and young and came back in a couple weeks later, empty. No ponytail, no color... just nothing. I mean she looks the same, but something is different... wrong... somehow. I know it sounds stupid but...”
“No, you’re making sense. I can see it. Please continue. What does Martin have to do with it?”
“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble, but I can’t shake the weird sense I have. I’ve seen the drug heads at my school and sometimes a girl will wander in, and I can tell she’s on something. But these girls aren’t. At least, not at first. All I know is that something horrible is happening.” Tammy leaned closer to Lydia and whispered.
“Once I saw a girl, come and talk to Martin. He had her sit at a table with a man, some guy older than you. She talked with him a while, and then they left. That same girl came back two hours later, no smile and no guy. Martin made her sit with some other man. I had to leave before I saw what happened. But it gave me a spooky feeling.” Lydia grimaced. She suspected it was worse than Tammy understood but didn’t want to scare the girl.
“When I first worked at the restaurant, Ben was sweet. He’d help me with my work and give me extra tips. He’d even drive me home. But then once,” The teen trembled. “He tried to kiss me, and I backed away. I mean, he was nice, but I’m not looking for a boyfriend. He got upset and left me at the gas station by my house. I had to walk the rest of the way home. He and Martin started saying nasty things to me, at work, when no one was around. But the manager caught them and put an end to it. Now, they act like I don’t exist. Honestly, I prefer it that way.”
“I don’t blame you. Something is going on there. Stay away from them.”
Relieved someone was listening, Tammy continued, “Then a few weeks ago, this girl comes in. Not an empty girl. This girl was sad but not a zombie, like the others. She wanted to talk to Martin, and he followed her outside to chat. At first, I noticed, he was super nice. Then she must have said something he didn’t like because I swear, I saw him hit her. Right in the face.”
“What did you do?”
“I told the manager, and he checked the security feed. But they were standing out of sight of the camera. All we could see was a girl walking away, crying. She got in her pink car and drove away. Martin came back in.”
“A pink car? What kind of car?”
“One of those Herbie cars. Not the new kind. The old ones.”
Lydia clapped, startling Tammy with her reaction. “That’s Ivy. You saw Ivy. Do you remember anything else about her?”
Tammy grinned happy to be helping. “Not a lot. Just that she had blue hair.”
Lydia refrained from hugging the girl. Thrilled to hav
e something to go on, she prayed aloud. Tammy just stared at her, in wonder and concern. “Do you know Jesus, Tammy?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve just never seen anyone talk to Him, out loud, like that. Like He’s sitting with us in the truck.”
“Don’t you believe he is?”
“I guess so. I haven’t thought about it before.”
“Tammy, are you certain you can’t quit your job before Christmas? I don’t like sending you back to the restaurant.”
Tammy shrugged. “I’m trying to buy presents for my little brother. Mom’s been working two jobs, and I know we won’t have enough money to make it a good Christmas for him. He’s only seven. He’s too little to let that happen.” Lydia forced her tears to stay in her eyes. God had sent her this girl. She would not let another one slip by unseen.
“How about we do some shopping together? I’ll help you any way I can. My only condition is you quit that job, today. Don’t go back. Not even to pick up a paycheck. Do you understand?” Tammy nodded and cried. She placed her head on Lydia’s shoulder, and Lydia prayed passionately over the entire situation.
After hitting up any shops nearby and purchasing enough presents to load the back cab of the truck, Lydia drove Tammy home. She stayed and explained her worries to Tammy’s mother, who wept over the protection God provided her sweet daughter. Lydia left her phone number for Tammy and her family. They hugged goodbye long after the early sun had set.
Tammy’s mother, Ida, walked Lydia to her truck. “I can’t explain my fear and my thankfulness.”
Lydia waved it off. “God is good. But I have to tell you. My husband is the Pottersville sheriff. I will be telling him about Tammy and Martin and Ben. You may get a call from him or another sheriff.” Ida understood and bid her benefactress a Merry Christmas, waving to her long after Lydia could see her.
✽✽✽
“Kat, I’m leaving Lewiston right now. I have troubling news about Ivy. Are you free to talk tonight?”
“Sure,” Kat’s voice crackled through the stereo speakers. She continued chatting, but only every other word came through.
“I can’t understand you, Kat. I’ll call you when I get home.”
Prostitution, Lydia never suspected prostitution. Everything about Tammy’s narrative pointed to a young, persuasive pimp using lonely girls to move his business. Lydia’s skin rebelled against her memory of sitting in a booth surrounded by monsters. Had Ivy fallen prey to this lifestyle? Was she hurting somewhere? Or worse, trapped? Lydia didn’t expect so. After her fight with Martin, Ivy had made it to her own vehicle and driven away. That didn’t mean Martin had let her go. He could have followed her to Honey Pot.
With Emily’s information added into the mix, Lydia worried more. Emily said Ivy once dated the beast. That added a whole new element of danger to her disappearance.
Lost in contemplative prayer and driving in the dark, Lydia almost didn’t notice the blue Honda. It joined her on the road a block from Tammy’s house.
Kat called back, causing Lydia to shriek and toss her hands in the air. She sent the call to her car speakers.
“You terrified me!” She snapped at her friend. Panicked, she quickly scanned her mirrors and spotted the car. Kat was chattering at her, rapid fire. Lydia couldn’t discern a single word. Her knuckles arched around her steering wheel as acid shot up her throat. Swallowing it down and silencing the shivering in her voice, she spoke steadily and slowly at Kat. “I’m being followed. It’s a blue Honda.” Kat jabbered, unaware as Lydia repeated herself. “Kat, I’m being followed!”
“Well, speed up!” Kat spouted commands, and Lydia’s foot obeyed. She jolted down the stretch. “Is it the same car from Ivy’s? The one you were telling us about?”
“I think so.” The dark car loomed right behind Lydia’s tailgate. Lydia shoved her foot harder toward the ground. The truck sputtered in strained obedience. The Honda responded in kind, drawing even closer than before.
“Is he still behind you?”
Lydia nodded, though her friend couldn’t see her. Her voice wouldn’t cooperate. Sweat pooled between her palms and the wheel, even as the snow flurried outside. Lydia thanked God that Ethan had put on snow tires before Thanksgiving. Bumper shoved fender. The truck wiggled, reckless, on the frozen road. The gas, full-on, wouldn’t give Lydia any more speed.
The little Honda was newer, faster, and sleeker. Lydia would have to rely on her experience to shake him. She lessened her pressure on the pedal and received another metallic punch. Kat yelped over the line. Lydia counted aloud with her eyes focused on the rearview. The Honda slowed, recalibrating and strategizing.
She had one shot at throwing off her stalker. If she timed it wrong, the vehicles would collide, and she would spin out. The truck slowed beneath her. She listened to the Honda’s engine rev up. He’d strike again in just a few seconds. Lydia prayed and took a huge breath before cutting the wheel and rocketing into the other lane. The Honda, ready to ram, flashed past her before he noticed she’d swapped over. His brakes hollered, and the smooth ride fishtailed before shooting into a snowdrift. Lydia’s truck, still near top speed left the driver behind.
“Dear Jesus!” Lydia’s voice was louder than intended.
“Lydia! Lydia!”
“I’m okay, Kat. I’m okay. “
“Where’s the other car?”
“He spun out into the snow.” Lydia pumped her brakes, letting the truck roll to a much more manageable speed.
“Good.”
Lydia circled back and cruised next to the wreck. The driver’s face lay smashed on the airbag. He wasn’t moving. “Dear God, he may be dead.”
“No, no, Lydia. Don’t do it. Come home. I’ve got Thad calling the paramedics, right now. Just come home.”
“I can’t leave him.”
“At least, keep me on the line.”
“Okay, just be quiet.” Kat went silent, save for a sporadic jagged breath.
Lydia put on gloves, her peacoat, and a beanie before exiting the truck. She scanned the horizon and left the truck idling with the parking brake on. She tucked her cell phone under the strap of her bra and walked back to the wreck. The snow paused in its course.
“No one’s around. The windows of the car are all steamed up. Keep listening.” Kat’s breathing went deep and then silent again. Lydia pictured her tough gal pal holding it in and straining to hear every footstep. “There’s someone in there, but they’re not moving.” Kat’s end rustled, but she didn’t speak. “I’m opening the door.” She tugged, but the car wouldn’t open. “It’s stuck. I’m going to the other side.”
Lydia pulled on the passenger door. It popped free, tossing her backward onto the ground. From her seated position, she saw the driver. He was breathing but not doing well. She wasn’t sure if he was alive until he spoke.
“You!” He choked and passed out.
Lydia climbed into the car and tried to revive the young man. His dead weight was too much for her to handle. She felt his spine and his neck, but the only visible injury was his head. A cut bled through the quickly crusting wound.
“I’ll be right back.” She hustled to her car and grabbed a bottle of water.
“What’s happening?” Kat whispered through the line.
“I’ve got an injured driver. Bleeding from the head.”
“Thad is on the phone with Lewiston paramedics. They’re on their way to you. Stay on the line.”
Lydia snatched her emergency duffle bag from her backseat and rushed to the other car. The driver was still out. He rested back against the headrest of his seat. He moaned and opened his eyes.
“I have water. Drink some.” Holding the bottle to his lips, the injured man lapped up a small amount before he faded. His last gulp dribbled down his chin and onto his shiny name tag. “Martin,” Lydia whispered too low for Kat to hear and continued to care for the man.
When paramedics arrived, they found Lydia applying pressure to his head wound and shivering from the shock.
They wrapped her in a blanket and led her back to her truck to question her. Martin was in the ambulance and gone before the chill left Lydia’s bones.
Kat and Thad pulled up in their minivan as the police finished gathering their information. Lydia fell into Kat’s arms, too miserable to talk. She’d fill the girls in later. For the moment, Lydia wrapped herself in the generosity of the Millers. Thaddeus drove Ethan’s truck back to Honey Pot, and Kat ushered Lydia back to the comfort of her own home.
CHAPTER 13
Emily rapped on Lydia’s door until her knuckles ached. She rang and rang the bell while hopping from foot to foot. “On my way,” Lydia called from inside the house. The knot in Emily’s throat loosened just enough for her to catch a full breath. Lydia’s eyes popped at the unexpected guest. She ushered Emily inside The teenager nearly ran into the living room.
Lydia took a glance around the block, from the safety of her front door. Nothing stood out as abnormal or menacing. “Was someone chasing you?” Emily just shrugged.
“They could have been.” Emily plopped recklessly onto the couch. She tossed her grimy boots over its arm and flung herself back. Lydia smiled. Joan often struck the same hapless and dramatic pose of frustrated surrender. It tickled Lydia that Emily felt safe enough to do the same. Then again, the girl might just lack decent manners.
“Who could have been chasing you?” Lydia sat in the easy chair opposite the couch. It smelled of Ethan’s cologne. She snuggled up, mentally, to her absent husband.
“I’m not sure. I’m just scared.” Emily laced her fingers together and twisted them in worry. She bit her lip until Lydia was afraid it would bleed.
“Well, as long as Mr. Mike gives his permission, you’re welcome to stay on my couch until you feel safe. I’d love to offer you more than a place to hide. I would love to help you. But I would need to know what’s going on. What’s made you so afraid?”
