Painful Deliverance
Page 7
It was now late afternoon on Saturday. He would go into his office and take some time to investigate before he did anything else … take time to see and analyse what she had been doing…
~~~~~
As he entered his office he realised it was the first time he had set foot in there on a weekend for almost three years. Before he had met her, he'd had a period of time where he often went in at all hours, on all days. After he met her, he found that he no longer wanted to work all hours, on all days. He had found a different focus. Something else that was all consuming on his mind. And almost as consuming on his body.
Now, as he made his way to his computer and logged on, he felt a deep dread starting to cross over him. What it was a dread of, he was not sure, but it was getting deeper by the hour.
He suddenly felt the same emotion that he always did when he used technology to check up on her. He couldn't pinpoint the emotion - it seemed to be a blend of guilt, combined with curiosity, and mistrust, but at the same time, trust … he found this emotion when monitoring her, to be an indefinable one as there were so many aspects to it. Internally he knew it was wrong to even monitor her like this, but it didn't stop him … not today, and not any day before now when he had done it.
He started with her bank accounts. Nothing had been accessed today - or even yesterday. The last time she had used her card had been on Thursday at the supermarket. She had not withdrawn any cash from any ATM. Over the past week she had visited a café, seen a movie, and bought groceries. That was it. Although on looking closer, he did consider that $57.60 seemed an awful high price for a cup of coffee in a café. Even if she ordered a light lunch - and she never ate anything very substantial - it would only have come to maybe $20 at most.
That was the first light bulb moment.
He went back through her purchases. Even the supermarket one was suspicious. He had just looked in her kitchen and there was sufficient food - but nowhere near the $342.34 worth that the supermarket amount showed as her transaction for Thursday.
Same with the cinema charge. She loved watching movies on the big screen - went whenever she could. And she loved popcorn. That would come to less than $30 in total. The amount withdrawn by the cinema was $90.
She was withdrawing cash on her purchases. And that meant that there was a possibility that she had for a long time already been aware of this very moment - this very moment when he would be sitting at this computer, in this office, looking at her bank accounts.
The discovery temporarily stunned him, making him feel that emotion again - it now heavily veering in a lopsided motion toward the side of mistrust.
He went back through her records and looked closer at the amounts. For the past two weeks at least she had been doing this - for two whole weeks the charges were much higher than they should have been, given where she was. Earlier than the two weeks, everything seemed normal. A $28.60 charge at the cinema. A $7.50 charge at a café. A supermarket purchase that totalled $87.50.
So for at least two weeks - two weeks! - she had been doing this. Planning this.
But he had seen her as normal since then. Even just last Thursday…
Now that he remembered back to Thursday, she had looked pale and withdrawn even then, when he had arrived. She had eased back to her usual self, but now that he was thinking and focusing, he realised she had not been her usual self to start with. She had not been normal at all - she had simply found her ability to quickly seem normal - to act. In his desire for her - his need - he had instantly disregarded it … until now.
He leaned back in his chair, let out a deep breath and turned around so he was facing away from the computer, and out toward the buildings nearby. His mind was working quickly and furiously, trying to figure out what was going on.
Why would she have planned to leave … like this? No goodbye? No discussion about that being what she wanted to do? It made no sense. And all her clothes were in her apartment, so what was she planning to wear?
He turned back to her accounts - no, there was no indication she had bought any clothing or anything else out of the ordinary.
Travel? No, there were no flights purchased, nor any train tickets bought.
So where was she - and how did she get there?
He logged out of her bank accounts - nothing more was to be seen there - and instead logged into her mobile phone account.
And all he saw there for the past two weeks were calls from him. No‑one else at all. Standing back and looking at the view now he was a bit surprised at the number of calls he made to her. Did he really contact her that much? Looking at the list now, it looked … too much. Far too much. Without any formal analysis he could see at a glance that he far too frequently contacted her but she never contacted him. Which was how it had to be of course - she had never been in a position to be able to call him, due to his business and his being married. If she had ever wanted to see him at any other time - if she really needed him - she had never been able to contact him to tell him. And that brought into his head one glaring reason she might want to not be with him anymore - he was never there for her. Despite how much she always made sure she was there for him - every single time - perhaps he was never there for her.
But back to the present, he had to think how he would find her, because her leaving like this wasn't acceptable. It wasn't planned, and in his mind it was chaos. And in his head chaos wasn't right. It wasn't orderly. And it had to stop, so that things could be put right again - so things could be put back in their right place - in their right order.
He had to find her … if he could locate her phone, he could see exactly where she was. He had done that before - once when they had first started to be involved and he found himself not only just desperate to see her, but at the same time desperate to know where she was and what she was doing.
Looking at his watch he saw it was now 8pm. It was quite late, and a Saturday night. He knew who he could call to do the search for her phone, but should he? He had to take time to think now, to plan how he would play this out in order to locate her. If he asked his head IT manager, Nate, once more to track that phone, he would be putting himself out there as someone trying to find her. And that might lead to questions later, if anything had happened to her. No, he had to find another way - another way where he would not be in full view as being in this situation. He had to find a way to make her come back to him.
If he could somehow broadcast that she was missing … but there was no evidence that something had happened to her. At this point he was sure that she had planned and left all on her own accord.
He knew people in each of the main television stations, and he could pay for a broadcast to be made. But how could he explain his desire to make that happen? He was rich, and he knew people of importance, and he had made plenty of speeches about the goodwill he wanted his company to be part of … he just needed to get things in order and work out a way to make it all flow in the right direction, so that eventually wherever she was - whoever she was with - she would see it, and she would know she needed to come back. That leaving was not an option. That leaving was not acceptable.
But she would only come back if she thought someone else was at risk or in danger. Always, she put other people first. Never herself. So he had to create the right scenario - where if she stayed away and hidden, someone else was likely to be caught up in it, which she would not want. He knew her very well - he knew exactly which buttons to push with her - and he knew, without any doubt, that she would act if someone else were threatened.
He knew what he had to do.
~~~~~
"Where is the phone?" he asked Nate, his IT manager, early Sunday morning, having already put in place the plan segments that he'd had to, to try and draw her out. This part wasn't something that he had particularly wanted to do, but his desperation had grown to a new level, thinking that she had left without telling him. He wasn't thinking straight - he knew that, and yet he couldn't stop his actions. He was trying so hard to keep
it all together, but this was something he absolutely needed. He needed to know where she was.
"It is nowhere, Sir," Nate replied back to him with a nervous look on his face. He knew his employer well - had been working alongside him for almost twenty years now - and although he understood and identified the cool and calm exterior, deep down he knew not to ever upset him - and never ever tell him something about technology could not be done.
"What do you mean, nowhere? It must be somewhere! It is just turned off, right? But you can turn it back on from here…" Lincoln started to say but the man before him shook his head.
"That's just it. That is what I thought - that it might not be coming up on GPS as it must be turned off, and all we would have to do is turn it back on … but it isn't out there. It has just …disappeared."
"But…" Lincoln started to say, standing up straight and lifting his hand to sweep it through his cropped dark hair. It was weekend and he wasn't wearing corporate gear - but even to the man before him he seemed to be an imposing image of immaculate presentation and presence. "Fuck!" he shouted, knowing it was an unprofessional way to act, especially in front of an employee, but not caring in that moment. "What else can we try? How else can someone be found?"
Nate looked at his employer carefully. This was the second time he had wanted this particular phone tracked. But last time it seemed to be more a matter of curiosity than anything else. This time it looked serious - Nate didn't like the sense of desperation coming off Lincoln at all. Like he had not slept at all the night before, and wasn't thinking straight. It was uncertain to his employee who the phone belonged to - who that person was to his boss - and in one way he really did not want to know. If he knew things, questions would come. And he did not want questions.
"With regard to this phone … nothing. It isn't out there, Mr Kokiri. The phone isn't out there - and neither is the SIM card that was in it. It would be my guess that they have both been destroyed. Sorry."
Lincoln looked down at this man, feeling anger inside of him that he desperately wanted to vent. But he could not take it out on Nate - he was a good worker and had always been loyal. And he could be trusted to not tell anyone Lincoln was looking for the owner of the phone.
"Thank you, Nate, for at least trying. Sorry to drag you into work on a Sunday. You can go now," he said and saw the man stand up, nod, and leave quickly, as if he could not wait to get out of there.
Lincoln stood where he was for a long time, his mind alternating between thinking too quickly, and not thinking at all. It was like his head was on overload all of a sudden - he had to think of everything, but he also needed to stop thinking altogether.
Finally he took a deep breath. He had put in action what he knew he could, and now he had to wait. Before the end of the day he would know where she was, and she would be coming back.
He jumped as he heard and felt his mobile phone ring in his pocket. Looking at it he saw it was his wife calling.
Purposely he put a smile on his face and answered it.
"Hello darling," he said suggestively, because it was important to him even now that she feel like she was the only woman in the world for him - the only woman he desired and wanted to ever be with.
Their conversation was quick and to the point - as it always was. After he hung up he made ready to leave his workplace once again. There was no more to be done here - everything was in place. He just had to wait.
~~~~~
Back in their home, Diana got ready to go out for a quick run before they were expected to go out for a fundraiser dinner. She had everything she needed in hand - her phone and her apartment keys, plus headphones clipped to her running t-shirt, ready to put on music when she left the house.
In the living room, Lincoln stood with his back to the door, facing the television … close to it. He hardly ever turned the thing on, but today he had to.
He stood still as he watched the news broadcast that was made. He saw the photo of Lexi come up on the screen, and felt his heart leap. It was an old photo, he had realised too late - one he had taken of her right at the very start of their relationship, and it showed a very youthful young woman with alert eyes and a huge smile on her face. Thinking about that photo now - seeing it on such a big screen - he realised that she hardly ever looked like that anymore. She hardly ever smiled, and he certainly had not seen her eyes glistening like that in a while. A very long while. She worked so hard to please him - to do what he wanted - that she had become a robot. A person with no emotion left in her. And he had done that. She had been youthful when he had met her - she had only been 18 - but now he could see that her youthfulness had shed away, and she seemed much, much older now at 21 than she should do.
Diana entered the doorway just as she was ready to leave, and seeing her husband standing and looking at the screen in front of him - something he rarely did - she moved slightly to one side so she could see what was on the screen.
She saw the whole broadcast, from start to finish. And her heart became numb.
She spoke slightly too soon - she hadn't thought quickly enough before she spoke.
"So that is what she looks like. I've always been curious what the face of your whore would be like," she said, initially feeling strong.
Lincoln stood where he was, firstly only hearing the comment as background noise. When he realised the words that had been spoken, he stood where he was, still facing the screen, frozen. The level of anger inside of him was immense, and he channelled the fury down into his fists, not wanting to move. Maintaining whatever level of control it would take … to … not … move.
Diana watched her husband for only a split second. Despite having spoken far too soon when she saw the screen, she was a fast thinker, and in that miniscule slice of time she could see how the scene before her could play out. She could taunt him with the knowledge of her having realised years ago that he had someone on the side. 'Did you think I didn't know about her? About your little whore?' she could say, rubbing it in. She could wait and see the look on his face as he fully realised that he had not been as discrete over the time as he had thought he had been. She could stand her ground as he would turn and walk right up to her. She could look defiant and taunt him to act on his anger. And she could take the blow…
No, Diana was faster thinking and far more logical than that. From her view of his back, she could see his fists, held tightly by his side, and she knew perfectly well the level of anger she had just invoked. After twenty years of marriage, she knew every little part of his body, and every interpretation of what his body said, with how he was feeling.
No, she was more intuitive and faster thinking than that. She would not let that scenario play out. She loved life far more than she had ever loved him. No part of him was worth the pain that would come to her, from her taunting him and making things worse.
Without speaking another word she turned … and she ran.
As she ran for the front door, she grabbed her handbag off the side table it lived on - only because it had her purse in it - but then she was in the elevator and gone. And she would not come back - not in a hurry anyway. She knew her husband. Whatever was flowing through his mind right then - when he was watching the news - was something that he would have to dwell on, and was best left alone to do just that. She knew he could present to the world what a loving and caring man he was. But although he had never before hurt her physically, she knew there had been times when he had come close to losing his control, and she had always believed that anyone who pushed him far enough for him to do that…
The thought caused a shiver to pass through her as she maintained focus on just moving forward, as fast as she could. He might come after her … but he might not. The woman - the girl, she had to correct herself, now that she had seen the photo of Alexis, and how young she was - might be so important to him that he would not even give Diana a passing thought until the girl was found. And while most wives would want their husband to forget all about the woman their husband w
as having an affair with, suddenly all Diana could think was that she hoped he would not.
She kept running, with no thought even of taking one of the cars that were just in the apartment garage. No, they lived right in the centre of the city and there were hotels all around - and ATMs. That would have to be her first stop - go to an ATM and withdraw as much money as the machine would let her. Then she would have cash, and that would give her an easier path to get away - even if only for this one night - to just get her head together and think.
And to watch the television.
He had started the announcement to the world. Now the police and the media were involved. Now he would have to see it through. And it would all be broadcast openly, for her also to watch how things were about to develop for her husband.
After running around and visiting several ATMs, withdrawing as much cash as they would allow, she then ran quickly into her bank also. She had to move quickly - while he was entranced in whatever was happening with the girl. When she had what she believed to be enough cash for what she wanted to do, she walked to the tallest hotel in the city - the one with the most rooms - so that if he wanted to come after her for whatever reason - to confront her and tell her what he really thought of her calling his mistress a whore - he might find the building but if she used a fake name it might stall the process of him finding her, just a bit longer.
Unknowingly, Diana had just found her mind in exactly the same place as Alexis had weeks and days earlier. He might be her husband - he might be the girl's for sex - but the two woman had been involved with the same man - and both were right in this moment equally intimidated and fearful of him.
~~~~~
Lincoln stood still, with his back to the door still. He had heard the comment and had very quickly acknowledged the degree to which he had instantly felt not just anger rush through him - but an open and eager need … to kill. The thought of anyone calling Lexi a whore enraged him.
But it was Diana, and he had made a commitment to Diana - for better, for worse - and would not give in to his natural instinct to rush to her and pummel her for saying what she had. He had watched the way his father had treated his mother - the memories were ingrained deeply in his mind - and he would not treat his wife like that. He would not lay a hand on her. He would not swear at her. He would not call her names. He would not even shout at her. And he would definitely not take one step closer to her right in that moment.