Turn Back Time

by Stacy Claflin

  He scribbled more notes. “Is there anywhere she may have gone to?”

  “She hasn’t been to the shelter she volunteers at. They haven’t seen her, either.”

  “What about work?”

  “She’s retired, and it isn’t like her to take off without telling us. We’re her only family.”

  “Okay.” Nick continued taking notes. “What’s her name and address?”

  “Lottie Mills.” Macy told him her home address.

  “Mills? Your married name is Walker.”

  “She goes by her maiden name.”

  “Any chance she’s worried about her ex?” Nick asked. “Is that why she didn’t keep his last name?”

  “No, he died when Luke was a kid.”

  “A current husband or boyfriend?”

  “No. She lives alone and keeps busy taking care of the house and yard, and also volunteering at the shelter. They almost ended up on the streets after her husband died, and I think that’s why she likes to help out there.”

  “Okay, this is good info,” Nick said. “Do you know if she had any trouble with any other relationships? Any reason to think of that she may have fled on her own volition?”

  “Um…” Her voice trailed off. “No. We’re both really close to her. If anything was wrong, she’d have told us—and she didn’t.”

  Nick rose from the chair. “I’d like to have a look around her house. Do you have keys?”

  “Yeah, we’re here now.”

  “Oh, good. Stay there until I arrive.” He slid on his jacket. “Is her car there? Is anything disturbed in the home?”

  “Her car’s gone—the neighbor hasn’t seen it—and the house is spotless, as usual.”

  “What about her mail? Has it been picked up recently?”

  “I don’t know. Hold on.” Her voice grew quieter. “Hey Luke, go check her mail. Okay, Captain, he’s going to check.”

  “Just a couple more questions before I leave. Does she take any medications, or does she have any conditions—medical or psychological—that would put her survival at risk if she doesn’t have them?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “She isn’t prone to wandering off? No early signs of dementia?”

  “Lottie’s as sharp as a thirty-year-old.”

  “Okay. While I’m on my way, check for anything missing—clothes, luggage, medications, purse, cell phone, and anything else that would indicate she left purposefully. Also, think of anything you can regarding her disappearance, whether it could be intentional or otherwise. And if you can, gather what you can to help identify her, such as a picture and license plate number, so I can send out a BOLO alert.”

  “Luke’s back with a stack of mail. It looks like it could be a couple days’ worth.”

  Nick’s stomach tightened. If Lottie had been missing a couple days already and she hadn’t left of her own free will, their chances of finding her alive and well were low.

  Dizzy

  Macy’s head spun. The detective had just asked her and Luke the same questions—albeit in a different order—that the captain had asked before. They’d given them a couple pictures of Lottie, and she’d dug up her license plate number from the home office. Several police were there looking around, and Nick was currently outside, talking with neighbors. He’d already issued the alert and the rest of the force was keeping an eye out for her.

  Luke sat next to her on the couch and put his hand on her knee. “Are you okay?”

  “I should be asking you that.” She sighed and squeezed her hands together. “I’m a psychologist, Luke. I should be handling this better. I can’t think straight.”

  He ran his hands through his hair. “Babe, you’re a child psychologist, and it’s always different… harder… when it’s someone you love. You’re not just her daughter-in-law, you’re her daughter.”

  Tears blurred Macy’s vision. Luke put an arm around her and they sat in silence, watching the police walk around, looking at things and talking on their cell phones and radios. In a way, it didn’t feel real. Or maybe she didn’t want it to be real. She just wanted to see Lottie walk through the door and say it was all a big misunderstanding.

  But she didn’t. Macy leaned her head against Luke and tried to think of anything they may have missed. Perhaps some detail that would be the missing clue they needed. They’d told the police everything they knew—her typical schedule, physical description, license plate and description of her car, and even the address of the shelter.

  There had to be more. Macy looked around the living room, trying to figure out what they may have forgotten. Nothing came to mind. Lottie led a routine life and rarely did things differently. It was Macy and Luke who always had schedule changes, and that was why they hadn’t noticed her missed call the day before.

  Her chest constricted and guilt stung. They should’ve noticed, but they hadn’t. Would that cost Lottie her life?

  “Macy, breathe,” Luke whispered.

  She let out some air she didn’t realize she was holding. “What if—?”

  “We can’t ask those questions right now. It won’t help.”

  “What are we supposed to do, then?” Her breathing was shallow. She struggled to take a full, deep breath, but couldn’t.

  He rubbed her back. “Focus on finding her. That’s all we can do.”

  “But I’m so worried.”

  “So am I, but we have to keep a level head.”

  She knew he was right, but she was barely hanging on, feeling dizzy and light-headed.

  “Macy?”

  The room spun around her.

  “You’re pale as a ghost.”

  She blinked several times, feeling the sensation of falling. Luke grabbed her shoulders and rose from the couch, still holding her.

  “You’d better lie down.” He reached for a throw pillow and put it under her head.

  Macy tried to sit up, but couldn’t. “I’m having a panic attack.”

  He kissed her cheek, grabbed a green and blue blanket Lottie had crocheted, and covered Macy. “Just rest. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “How do you know that? We don’t know if—”

  “No, but we have to be positive. We have to be.”

  Macy closed her eyes. She couldn’t do that. Her mind was taking her to dark places, and it was all she could to do to keep from getting pulled in. Ever since the car accident that had landed her in the hospital nearly six months earlier, she’d started having flashbacks to her kidnapping again.

  Walking down the street, she saw Chester’s face on strangers. It always took a few seconds too long for her to realize it wasn’t really her abductor—the man who had starved her and mentally tortured her. When she should have been focused on boys and learning to drive, she’d been at the mercy of a lunatic.

  Would she ever fully move on from that experience? She’d been safe for more than ten years, and he was still in jail. He shouldn’t ever get out after everything he’d done. Chester Woodran had killed his wife and then had spent months preparing to kidnap Macy. His sights had been set on her. He’d wanted to replace his lost family, and Macy was unfortunate enough to be nearly identical to his daughter.

  Macy pushed the thoughts from her mind. “I’m safe. I’m safe now.” And aside from that, the entire experience hadn’t been all bad. She’d actually met Luke while under Chester’s tight reign. Luke hadn’t known she’d been kidnapped, but he’d saved her sanity all those years earlier. It looked like he would be again now.

  “Is she okay?” Captain Fleshman’s voice broke through Macy’s thoughts.

  “I think she’s flashing back to her kidnapping,” Luke said.

  How did he know?

  “Does that happen often?” asked the captain.

  “She’s been having nightmares since the accident.”

  Macy sat up. “I have? No, I haven’t.”

  Luke kissed the top of her head. “At least once a week.”

  She stared at him. “Why d
idn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to add to your distress.”

  Fleshman gave Macy a sympathetic glance. “Why don’t you two head home? We’re done here, and we’ve got this.”

  Macy shook. “We should stay here. What if she comes back?”

  “Officers are going to patrol the area, checking on the house every hour. If she shows up, I’ll call you personally.”

  She turned to Luke, giving him a questioning look. He held out his hand for her to take. Macy took his hand, and he helped her up.

  Captain Fleshman handed Luke a card. “If you think of anything else, call me directly.”

  He took the card. “I can’t thank you enough. Really, we didn’t expect all this. I wasn’t even sure if it was too early to report her missing.”

  Fleshman shook his head. “Hollywood perpetuating myths. Sooner is always better. We’ll do our best to find her.”

  “Again, thank you.” Luke put his arm around Macy. “Let’s go home.”

  Awkward

  Alex glanced behind his laptop. He’d been waiting outside on the bench for Zoey for nearly an hour now. The sun had given away to gray skies and light showers which had finally turned into a dull drizzle. Having lived his entire life in the Seattle area, Alex found the rain comforting. He’d always enjoyed watching it from the covered porch of his childhood home.

  A door slammed shut nearby. Alex sat taller, craning his neck to see if Zoey was leaving her parents’ house. Instead, across the street Nathan Willows crossed his yard to a car parked on the curb.

  Sighing, Alex turned his attention back to his blog post. He’d written up everything he knew about Lottie and her disappearance, even uploading some pictures he had of her with Macy, Luke, and Ari on his phone. The post was as good as he could get it for the time being. He rubbed his short beard as he ran a spell check on the post and then pressed publish.

  Hopefully, it would help. His blog had played a part in a couple kids being found alive. More and more people were visiting daily. Alex hoped that one day soon it would not only pay for itself but allow Alex to stop working as Dad’s assistant. He wanted to be able to get a place of his own—one that wasn’t falling apart like his last apartment.

  Another door closed nearby and then a car alarm beeped. Alex jumped up. The lights on Zoey’s turquoise car flashed along with the beeps. He closed his laptop, set it aside, and jumped up. “Zoey!”

  She turned his way. “I have to get going!”

  He jogged over to Zoey’s parents’ house. “This’ll only take a minute. It’s important.”

  “What is it?”

  Alex nodded toward her car. “Let’s talk in there.”

  She sighed and then opened the driver’s side door. He climbed into the passenger side and brushed some rain droplets off his pants. Zoey looked at him expectantly.

  “I don’t want Ariana to overhear.”

  “Okay.”

  “Lottie’s missing.”

  Zoey’s brows came together. “Who…? Wait, Luke’s mom?”

  Alex nodded. “I don’t know the details, but yeah. Nobody knows where she is, and it’s totally out of character for her. Nick’s got half the force on it, and I just posted about it on my blog.”

  Her face paled and she let out a long, slow breath. “Crap. Well, is there anything I can do?”

  “I think the best thing we can do is to keep Ari from finding out. Hopefully, Lottie will come home with a funny story about what happened. Ariana is doing so well, I don’t want her to start thinking about her ordeal, you know?”

  Zoey nodded. “I hope they find her soon. Does she have dementia or anything like that?”

  Alex shook his head. They sat in silence. He wanted to ask her a million questions now that he finally had a moment alone with her, but he didn’t know where to start. Things were so complicated between them.

  He studied her. She was deep in thought and as beautiful as ever with her long, thick dark hair and equally dark eyes. She was half-Japanese and had the best features of both her parents. His heart fluttered. He wanted to lean over and kiss her, but he was giving her the space she seemed to want—not that he could blame her. Six months earlier, her engagement had been broken off. Then there was the fact that he felt the need to prove himself to her, and the fact that he was living with his parents didn’t help anything.

  He’d been a screw-up when they got together as kids, and she’d been drawn to that part of him back then. But she wasn’t fifteen anymore, and he wasn’t thirteen. They were adults now, trying to have a part in the life of their daughter that her parents were raising. She had a college degree and an important job in a huge department store chain, and Alex was a recovering alcoholic who still drove a beater and slept in his childhood bed.

  Zoey turned and met his gaze. They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before she spoke. “Thanks for helping Ari with her homework. I still hate math.”

  “It’s kinda fun if you think of it like a puzzle.”

  “I don’t like puzzles, either.”

  Alex smiled. Some things never did change—like him being in love with Zoey. He’d used alcohol and moving away to try and push his feelings away, but it hadn’t worked out on any level. All he’d done was drive a wedge between him and his one true love, and he’d nearly lost her to her ex-fiancé.

  She cleared her throat. “So, uh…”

  Something inside him screamed to ask her on a date. But he couldn’t do it. Not living under his parents’ roof, driving his beat-up, gold Tercel, working as his dad’s secretary. If he was making less money helping his dad and optimizing his blog, he’d go back to the long, hard hours of roofing just to look better for her.

  “I should get going,” Zoey said.

  “Same here.” Alex cleared his throat. “I need to see how Luke and Macy are doing.”

  Zoey nodded. “Tell them to let me know if they need anything. And tell Macy she can call me anytime.”

  “I will.” He held her gaze again. Her luscious lips parted, like she wanted to say something. It took every ounce of his self-control not to lean over and place his mouth on hers.

  She didn’t look away. It was almost like she wanted the same thing. But they hadn’t shared a romantic moment together in so long. Plus he needed to get out on his own and prove to her that he was good enough for her.

  Alex cleared his throat. “So, I’ll tell her.”

  She averted her gaze. “Thanks. I’ll, uh, let my parents know what’s going on. They won’t say anything to Ari, but I’ll tell them not to, just to be safe.”

  “Thanks.”

  A moment of silence passed.

  He opened the door and stepped outside. “Take care.”

  “You too.”

  Alex closed the door and walked toward his parents’ house while she pulled out of the driveway and headed to her own place. He still had so far to go if he wanted to win Zoey back.

  Box

  Lottie’s eyes flew open—not that it helped remove her from the darkness. She gasped for air. The air was hot and heavy. It was hard to breathe in deeply. The shallow gasps barely made it past her chest. Something smelled bad. Ammonia and feces. Her eyes watered.

  She tried sitting up, but hit her head on something wooden just above her.

  Where was she?

  Lottie felt around, the rough wood surrounded her. Her head hurt. Was it from the bad air quality and the smell or from hitting her head? Or something else entirely? Her neck hurt, too. She rubbed it and tried to figure out how she’d gotten in the box.

  Soft, muffled conversation sounded from somewhere outside the box.

  She froze, fearing the worst. Who was out there, and how had they gotten her in the box?

  Her heart thundered against her chest as the fear of being buried alive raced into her mind. What if they thought she was dead, and they were digging her grave?

  Lottie pounded on the wood above with her fists and knees. “Let me out of here!”
<
br />   She continued until her voice and hands both grew raw. The muffled voices didn’t move any closer or grow any louder. She sifted through her memories, trying to figure out what had happened.

  Why couldn’t she remember? Did it have anything to do with her headache? If someone had slipped her something, it might. But who would’ve done such a thing, and why?

  Lottie rubbed the top of her head where it hurt the most. What was the last thing she remembered? She’d been home, working on her garden. It was spring, and soon the flowers would bloom and the fruits and vegetables would ripen.

  What had happened next? Had she gone to the shelter? No. It hadn’t been her day. She’d taken some food to the homeless and to Sydney’s family, hadn’t she?

  She had. Lottie remembered Sydney’s kids running around and little Reyna, who’d lost a tooth.

  Her pulse raced. She was close to figuring out what had happened.

  Lottie had dropped off the food and then left. She hadn’t made it to her car, though.

  Why not?

  Something had to have happened, otherwise she’d have gone back home and called Luke and Macy.

  The voices outside the box grew slightly louder. Lottie strained to hear what they were saying. Everything was still too muffled. She couldn’t make out any words. Only that the voices belonged to men.

  She froze, terror gripping her.

  Lottie knew exactly who had put her inside the box.

  Her pulse pounded all throughout her body, and she struggled to breathe. She also fought to hear the conversation outside. She only made out a few words, but she recognized the tones.

  Voices she could never forget.

  People who had threatened to make her pay as they were dragged away in handcuffs by the police.

  They had to have been released, and they’d found her. Not only found her, but captured her.

  Lottie swallowed and tried to control her breathing. She listened as Jonah, Abraham, and Isaac spoke with other former leaders of the community—the cult she had been naive to join when Luke was young. It had been shortly after she’d been widowed, and she was about to lose their old house. They had promised to save her and her son from having to live on the streets.