by Patricia Fry
“No Mom, I won’t go back to the drugs.” He looked up at her. “I can promise you that. No way.”
She walked over to her son and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him hard. “I love you, Damon,” she said through tears. “I just can’t lose you again.”
“Mom,” he said, pulling away, “I don’t want to lose myself again, either.” He thought for a moment and said, “Yeah, maybe I will call my sponsor.” He glanced up at her. “Can’t hurt.”
***
Meanwhile at the Ivey household:
“Oh hi, honey. Long day, huh?” Savannah said, easing up out of the overstuffed chair to greet her husband as he came through the front door.
“Hi, yourself,” he said, walking over and kissing her on the lips. “Yeah, busy day.” He sat down on the sofa and started removing his shoes. “You know how it goes on Fridays at a veterinary clinic—everyone wants their animals to be seen before the weekend.”
Savannah walked over and sat down next to Michael. “Yeah, I remember. I’d sometimes see more patients on Friday than I did the whole rest of the week,” she said with a laugh.
He turned toward her and asked, “Do you miss working?”
She thought for a moment and said, “Yes, I do, actually. I miss a lot of things about veterinary work and I miss seeing some of my favorite patients. But I’ve also enjoyed being home preparing for our baby.”
Michael reached over and rested both hands on her protruding belly. “So how are you feeling?”
“Good! Just a little tired. The baby has been playing a game of football in there—or she’s been cheerleading.”
“Been active, huh?” He ran his hands over her baby bump and said. “Hmmm, I guess it’s nap time. No kicking going on now.” He stood and headed toward the bedroom, shoes in hand.
“What’s for dinner?” Savannah asked, when he returned wearing his flip flops.
He looked confused. “Huh?”
“You said you had dinner handled tonight. What are we having?”
“Oh yes,” he said, his memory aptly jogged. “Homemade veggie pasta and a chopped green salad.”
She frowned. “Oh, Michael, I’m not sure we have the ingredients—Antonio’s garden is pretty sparse this time of year, and…”
He interrupted her. “I’ll manage, don’t you worry.” He thought for a moment and then said, “Sure been enjoying the kale Antonio grows in his winter garden. You come up with some yummy recipes, like the sausage and kale you made the other night.” He smacked his lips. “Really good!”
“Yes, thanks to our dear gardener, we eat pretty healthy around here. Savannah said. She smiled. “I’m glad Auntie let us keep Antonio when she sold us the house.”
“Well, she and Max don’t have much yard to take care of over at their place with so many cat pens everywhere.”
Just then Rags, who had been lying next to Savannah in the chair, stood up on all fours and stretched his long body. Michael said, “Hi Rags; been taking good care of Mommy today?” He walked over and ruffled the fur on the cat’s head, then turned toward the kitchen. “I hear Lexie. Come here, girl,” he crooned as the Afghan-mix dog trotted into the dining room and danced around his feet. Just then, he felt something bump up against the back of his legs. He looked down. “There’s my Walter boy,” he said, raking his fingers through the all-black cat’s thick fur. He addressed Savannah. “Okay, where’s our smallest daughter?”
“Buffy?” Savannah said. “Last I saw the princess, she was sound asleep in her canopy bed.”
Knock-Knock.
“I’ll get it,” Michael said taking long strides toward the front door. “Hi Maggie,” he greeted. “Come in.”
Savannah turned quickly to see her aunt coming through the front door carrying a large basket. “Hi, Auntie, what brings you…?” She then glanced up at Michael, who was looking rather sheepish. “Oh, I get it. Veggie pasta, chopped green salad…”
“How did you know?” Margaret asked.
“Michael was trying to take the credit for something that I’m guessing Max prepared.”
“Huh?” Margaret asked, cocking her head, her dark brown bobbed hair brushing across one shoulder.
“Never mind,” Michael said. “Here, let me help you with that stuff, Maggie.”
She handed the basket to Michael. “Hi there, Rags,” she said as the lanky grey-and-white cat hopped down off the chair and walked up to her, tail held high. Margaret stroked his large body. He purred. She started to address Savannah when Lexie trotted up to her and jumped up with her front paws. Margaret rubbed and scratched both sides of the dog’s neck. “I don’t think you’re allowed to jump up on people, girl,” she said as she eased the dog down off her.
“No she’s not,” Michael said, returning from the kitchen. “But she just can’t restrain herself when it comes to certain people.” He laughed. “Guess you’re one of them.”
Margaret turned quickly toward her niece and asked sharply, “You aren’t cleaning litter boxes are you?”
Michael took on a serious stance. “No she’s not,” he said emphatically.
“Oh good. I heard today it’s not safe for a preggo lady to be digging around in that stuff.” Her frown turned into a smile. “How are you feeling, hon?” she asked, reaching out and patting Savannah’s round tummy.
“Pretty good, actually. Can’t wait to meet our new Ivey,” Savannah said, placing her hands on each side of her belly. We’re down to counting weeks now, you know.”
“Yeah, how many?” Margaret asked.
“Eight and a half to go,” Savannah said, her smile widening. Then she dropped her head and stared down at her baby bump. “Only I’m quite ready now. This balloon belly is getting old.”
“I think you’re cute,” Michael said. “I wouldn’t care if you always looked like that.”
“What? Are you out of your mind?” Savannah snapped.
“Barefoot and pregnant, is that the attitude, Michael?” Margaret chimed with a chuckle.
He put both hands in the air in his defense. “No, no, no. That’s not what I meant. I’m just saying, I think this is a good look for Savannah.”
Savannah scowled.
Margaret laughed.
“Okay, change of subject,” Michael said. He took a deep breath and lowered his eyes. In a serious tone, he said, “Did you ladies hear that Colbi Stanton is missing?”
“What?” they said in unison.
“Iris stopped by for Willie’s rabies vaccine late this afternoon. She said that no one can find her—she has vanished.”
Savannah gasped and sat down on the edge of the ottoman. “Michael, are you sure?”
“That’s what Iris told me. There’s the possibility that she’s been kidnapped.”
Savannah brought her hands up to her face and stared in disbelief at Michael. “Who would want to harm that sweet girl?”
“Well Vannie,” Margaret said, “she does write some pretty controversial articles for the newspaper.” She cocked her head and gave Michael and Savannah a knowing look. “There have gotta be people out there who want to see her gagged.”
“That’s mean, Auntie. Yeah, she can be spunky, but I can’t imagine someone wanting to hurt her.”
“Naïve…that’s what you are, naïve,” Margaret insisted. “I think she’s a doll, too. I wouldn’t want to see her harmed. But just look at some of the articles she has written.”
“What articles?” Michael asked. “I’ve only read her pet column.”
“Oh, I guess you didn’t know; I thought everyone knew. She also does exposé pieces under a pseudonym—Carrie Stanford.” You know she wrote about the council member in Haley who was taking bribes, and remember the story about the doctor at that sleazy clinic in Straley who was accused of dispensing pills to kids and those policemen they found to be corrupt—where was that?”
“Oh yes, that little town west of Sacramento.” Michael remembered.
“She’s Carrie Stanford?” Savannah asked. �
��Oh my, she does take liberties in some of her stories, doesn’t she?”
“I didn’t know that was her,” Michael said. “But Carrie Stanford or Colbi Stanton, she is missing. Oh, and Craig’s on the case. If there is a case.” He hesitated and then said, “I guess there is until they find her.”
“Well, let’s hope she just went out of town without telling anyone,” Savannah offered, “or her car broke down someplace and she’s waiting it out in a warm cozy restaurant, or…”
“Yeah, let’s hope she’s okay,” Margaret agreed. “I’ll say a prayer at church. Are you two going Sunday?”
Savannah glanced up at Michael as he made eye contact and they both nodded. “Yeah, we’ll be there, Auntie,” Savannah said. “I think Brianna and Mom will join us. Hey, did you know they were coming?”
Margaret’s face lit up. “They are?” She scowled. “Why didn’t they tell me they were coming?”
“They just decided a couple of days ago,” Savannah said. “Brianna’s taking that job over in Straley at old Dr. Winfield’s geriatric practice and Mom’s coming to help her find an apartment.”
“Imagine, my niece the doctor,” Margaret said, looking off into space.
“So that’s why Bud was eager to take some time off this weekend, huh?” Michael noted. “He sure has cow-eyes for your sister.” He laughed.
Savannah stood, put her hands on her hips and spoke sternly. “They’re practically engaged, Michael.”
“Yeah, I know. But it’s out of character for Bud to be so…infatuated,” he said.
Margaret looked over at Michael and grinned. “Humph. I remember a few years ago when our resident veterinarian was infatuated.” She pointed at him and said, “You were mooning over Savannah like a lovesick puppy.”
Michael’s face turned solemn. “Yeah, well that was different.”
“How?” Margaret challenged.
“Uhm…well…I…” Michael stammered.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Margaret laughed.
Savannah flashed a brief smile in Michael’s direction and shook her head. She then addressed her aunt, “Anyway, Mom and Sis will be here tomorrow. Why don’t you and Max come for dinner? I’m pretty sure they’re going to church with us Sunday.” She looked down at the floor and said, “We’ll all pray for Colbi.”
***
Meanwhile in another part of town, Colbi heard voices. She moved toward where she knew the door to the stairway was, put her ear up to it, and listened.
She heard a woman say, “Go give this to her, will ya?”
The man asked, “But, we’re gonna kill her, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, we’re gonna kill her just like we planned.”
“So why are we wastin’ money feedin’ a dyin’ girl, Lida?”
Colbi hugged her jacket to her in an attempt to ward off the biting chill. I’ve never felt so terrified. What is happening? Why is this happening?
“Don’t ya git it, George? You don’t feed her and she dies here. We have to keep her alive until we know what we’re gonna do with her!”
“Shouldn’t you have thought of that before we took her last night?” he shouted.
“And let her write that story of hers? Oh no. We would have been arrested. Look here at all this stuff she was gonna say about us. They’d put us in prison for sure.”
There was silence and then the man said more quietly, “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“Well, that girl in there wants us to—look at how she has twisted things to make us look like the bad guys. It ain’t fair. And she’s gonna pay.” Lida raised her voice again. “These stupid cats had better not cause us to get arrested.”
Colbi heard George laugh an evil laugh. “They’ve been a pretty good meal ticket, haven’t they? People are so gullible.”
“Yeah, I like the soft-hearted ones,” Lida agreed. “The saps. They open their pockets the widest, all in the name of the glorious pussy cat.”
There was more laughter
Colbi cringed. A stream of tears rolled down her cheeks.
“So how are we gonna to do it?” George insisted. “We can’t starve her to death. We can’t spill her blood here. What about poison?”
“Naw, I’m thinking more like an accident.” It was quiet and then Colbi heard the woman say, “Dammit.”
“What?”
“We shoulda taken that old rattletrap truck from her place. We could drug her, put her in her own truck, and push it off the edge of a mountain road.”
“With what?” he asked.
“What do ya mean, ‘with what?’” she yelled.
“What would we drug her with?”
“Don’t matter. Sonny can get us somethin’ from his hospital friends.”
“Hmmmm, now there’s an idea,” George said. “Only we’d have to be careful about footprints and fingerprints. It’s kinda risky.”
“Murder’s risky business.”
“Then why are we gonna do it?”
“George,” she said with a sigh, “do you like our lifestyle? Do you like drivin’ that nice car of yours? Do you like that big-screen TV in there? I know you like the porn channel.”
“Yeah!” he said, snickering.
“Well, that’s why. She was gonna take it all away from us. We can’t let her do that, now can we?”
Oh my gosh. They really are going to kill me. What am I going to do? She closed her eyes to stop the tears, but rivers of them squeezed out and ran down her face. She made her way back to the thin mattress, pulled the lightweight blanket tightly around her bare feet, and lay there shivering partly from the cold and partly from fright.
When Colbi stopped straining to hear what her captors were saying, their voices simply became white noise in the background of her frightening thoughts.
Chapter Three
It was Saturday morning at the Ivey household.
“I saw it again last night,” Savannah said quietly.
Michael stopped buttering the slice of toast and turned toward his wife. “The activity out beyond the orchard?” he asked.
“Yes, something moving around…dim lights…” She twisted her face in thought. “It’s like a ghost or something out there,” she said.
“Well now, honey, we can’t see any of that during the day. I wonder if the moonlight and cloud shadows are playing tricks on your eyes.”
“No, Michael,” she insisted. “There’s something out there in the dark, moving around at night. I know it. I’ve seen it.”
He set the plate of toast on the table next to jars of Savannah’s homemade peach and plum jams. He then knelt next to her, lifted her chin, and looked into her eyes. “You’ll have to wake me up some night so I can see what you’re seeing.”
She heaved a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”
“I’m serious,” he said, standing and leaning his six-foot frame against the kitchen counter. “If there’s something out there, I want to know.”
She flashed her green eyes in his direction. “There is something out there—well, you’ve heard the coyotes, lately. Don’t you think they’re coming in awfully close?”
“Yes, I’ve never heard them this close,” he said, gazing toward the large kitchen window. “Usually, they’re lured into residential areas during a drought, when water and small mammals are scarce in their natural habitat. But why they’re coming in now, I don’t know. Seems as though there’s plenty of what they need in the foothills beyond the river.” He walked over to the window and stared out toward the orchard for a moment. “Do you think it’s coyotes that you’re seeing?”
Savannah joined him at the window before saying, “No. It’s more human-like—well, I think so, anyway.”
Michael kissed Savannah on the forehead, took her shoulders and turned her away from the window. “Let’s eat, shall we? We still have a few things to do before your mom and sister get here.” He sat down and scooped a large spoonful of cut fruit onto his plate and passed the bowl to Savannah. “They’re com
ing here before they go over to Straley, is that the plan?”
Savannah dished some fruit onto her plate and took a piece of toast. “Yes, they’ll spend the night here tonight and Sunday and head over to Straley to go apartment-hunting for Brianna Monday morning. They’ll probably stay here Monday night, too—maybe through Tuesday—depending on how the apartment-hunting goes.”
Three hours later, Michael called out to Savannah, “They’re here!”
“I see that,” she said. “I saw them from an upstairs window.”
“Now take it easy, there,” Michael said as he watched his wife descend the staircase.
“I am,” she insisted. She took another step and then, “Whoa, there, Ragsy.” She stopped and waited until the lanky cat had scampered past her to the ground floor. “I guess he’s eager for company,” she said. “See, I’m being careful. Why are you such a worrywart?”
“You’ve got my son or daughter in there. I don’t want anything to happen to him or her.”
Savannah stopped her descent and scowled at Michael.
“Or you, sweetheart. I don’t want anything to happen to you, either,” he said, rushing to the bottom of the staircase and reaching up to give her a hand.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s all about the baby…the baby…” she complained, resting her hands alongside her protruding tummy.
He grabbed her around the waist, pulled her too him, and murmured in her ear, “You know better than that. It’s about our family.” He pulled back, slid his fingers alongside her face, looked into her eyes, and said with a slight smile, “You, me, and baby makes three.”
Savannah broke loose and started toward the front door, when Michael grabbed one of her hands. “You know I love you more than anything, don’t you, Savannah?”
She stopped, turned. “Yes, Michael. I do.” She slumped her shoulders, looked down. “I’m sorry, I’m just hormonal, I guess. And tired of being fat!”
The couple looked over in time to see Rags standing with his paws on the windowsill next to the large front door, trying to see through the stained-glass window.
“He’s eager for company, isn’t he?” Michael remarked, as he opened the door wide.
