by Debra Kayn
She looked away. Her hand came up and swatted at her cheek. He could feel the quake of her tears in her neck, the sobs she held inside. If he could take the pain away, he would in a heartbeat.
At the end of the block, she stopped before crossing the road. "So, that's it? Everyone is going to expect me to give up on finding Rachel?"
"No. Absolutely not." He let go when she shrugged his touch away. "Notus will continue to make inquiries. That's how we had found out she'd gone to Cabo with Stoddard. If she's not there, she'll need to be somewhere else. It's not as easy to be missing when people continue to look."
"Unless she's dead." She clamped her mouth shut and crossed the road.
He took off after her and caught up with her in the middle of the street. "We're not giving up on your sister, I promise."
There were certain subjects that wouldn't be easy on her. He wished there was a way to protect her from bad news, but she'd need to face the possibilities of Rachel missing on her own. It was the only way she would survive once she received all the answers.
He stopped in front of the mailboxes across from Erikka's house. Every house on the street had a dedicated box in one localized spot. Ten boxes to a row, three boxes high. None of them had locks because the newer subdivision urged neighbors to look out for each other. He always found the opposite to be true. People grew comfortable in their surroundings until they stopped noticing strangers, cars, and activities around them.
"Sheesh, she never even reads half the magazines she received. You'd think it's been more than a week since I picked up her mail." Erikka stacked Rachelle's mail in the crook of her arm and moved down three boxes.
She opened the door, reached in, pulled out an envelope, and a pebble fell out and landed between her feet. Erikka froze.
Knowing how jumpy she was today, he said, "It was just a rock. Probably some kid..."
Erikka dropped all the mail in her arms and peered into the box, shoving her hand all the way back. She turned, picked up the rock on the ground, and straightened, holding her clenched fist in front of her. The huge smile and tears rolling over her eyelashes had him stepping forward.
"She's alive." Erikka's sob escaped. "Rachel's here. She's alive. The rocks. They're from her. She's telling me she's here. We need to find her."
"Hang on." He grabbed her arm, stopping her from running down the sidewalk. "Tell me what's going on."
Erikka opened her hand. Two small pebbles were on her palm. "When we were little girls, my dad would take us to work with him. To entertain us, he bought two mailboxes and set them up in the back room, so we could "play office" and pretend to mail each other letters. They were just drawings and I-love-you cards we'd made, but we played that for years. Every day, Dad would sneak into the back and put a rock in each of our mailboxes if we were good. He might not have been sentimental, but he had a great imagination. Anyway, on Fridays, he let us turn in our collection of rocks to the jar he kept on his desk. Those rocks paid for our ice cream on the way home. I always kept my rocks and took them home, not wanting to put them in the jar, and Rachel always felt bad that I wouldn't get an ice cream. So, she always gave me two rocks when Dad wasn't looking so I could get an ice cream, too. These rocks are from Rachel. She's the only one who would know what it means."
He squeezed the back of her neck. There were only two reasons why common road pebbles were in her mailbox. The number one reason being children thought it would be fun to fill the boxes with something that was right at their feet. Or, it could be a sign from her sister, and Rachel was in St. John's.
She grabbed his arm. "Come on. We need to go home and call Lieutenant Gomez."
Hating to dash her hopes, he walked with her toward home. Rachel had been gone almost two months. The first twenty-four hours were the most important. After that, a person would have a bigger chance winning the lottery than finding a missing person who had been abducted.
Chapter 26
More than twenty-four hours after finding two rocks in her mailbox, Erikka rode behind Chuck on his Harley Davidson. She pointed up ahead and to the right. The gym that Rachel went to was open twenty-four hours. She planned on hitting every store or business or park trail where Rachel was known to go—with her or alone.
Chuck stopped at the curb. She slid off the motorcycle and glanced at the other members of Notus who were riding with them.
"I can run in by myself," she said over the rumble of the engines.
Chuck threw his leg over the seat and walked with her up to the door. This was their sixth stop. He'd refused to let her go alone on every one.
Inside, a pretty young woman with long brunette hair pulled back in a perky ponytail wearing a little spandex sports bra looked up at the jingle of the bell on the door and smiled. Erikka walked up to the security window. "I'm Erikka Levenson. My sister, Rachel Levenson is a member here. She's missing, and I was wondering if you could tell me the last—"
"I can't." The woman smacked her gum. "Johnny's Gym can't give private information out about our members, even to family."
"I understand that, but if you'd like to check with the police, a report has been filed and —"
"I'm sorry." The woman continued smacking her gum. "I'm only the evening desk attendant. The daytime manager's name is Dwayne. He might be able to do more for you. I'm only allowed to sign people in and make sure I check off their time they used the gym."
Chuck nudged Erikka out of the way and leaned onto the counter, sticking his head past the window. "We've already talked to Dwayne. He's a buddy from my boxing days." He picked up the sign-up book and set it on the counter, turning it toward him. "The dick is going to owe me a beer now because he said the pretty lady at the desk would do anything for me. My heart is crushed."
He patted Erikka's ass, getting her attention and slid the book to his left, while he remained looking at the desk worker. "Maybe you want to buy me a drink and help mend my heart, sweetheart."
The woman's gum popped on her upper lip, and she scraped it off with her tongue, somehow turning it into something sexual. Erikka snapped her gaze off the woman falling for Chuck and quickly scanned the two visible pages looking for Rachel's name.
Chuck scratched his broad chest. "How long has Dwayne kept you to himself?"
"Oh, he's not...I mean, he's not my boyfriend or anything."
"Thank fuck for that." Chuck's voice lowered. "I think you made my night."
A feminine giggle hid the rustling of the page as Erikka quickly went back a month on the schedule. There was no sign of Rachel being at the gym. She slid the book over, tapping Chuck's elbow.
"I'm Cassandra. I get off at eleven thirty." The woman practically purred.
Erikka cleared her throat. Chuck straightened. If she didn't get out of here, she was going to throw up.
"I'll remember that." Chuck winked.
Erikka turned to leave, and Chuck looped his arm across her shoulders. She wanted to shrug him off, but she wanted Miss Gum Smacker to see that her chance of nailing a biker just went out the door. If there was nailing happening, it was going to be done to her, no one else.
Outside, she looked at Chuck as they walked to the motorcycle. "Is that how you flirt?"
He grinned. "It always works."
"Yeah, because you have low standards. That girl would fuck anything with a dick," she said.
Chuck grabbed her arm and swung her around. "Are you jealous?"
"No." She wrinkled her nose. "Disgusted."
He kissed her hard and murmured against her lips. "Only want you, love. You and your filthy mouth."
She clamped her lips to keep from laughing. That sick show of flirting inside had riled her, but she refused to admit it.
"That was the last place for the night." She glanced at Wayne, Glen, Thad on their motorcycles. "We should go back to your house and let the others go home. Lena needs Thad's help with the baby, and Ingrid needs a break. Clara probably is holding dinner so she can eat with Wayne. There's nothing else we c
an do tonight anyway, it's getting too dark."
"We'll swing by Bail Bonds before we go home in case she's shown up there or tried to make contact with you again, thinking you were still working." He got on his bike, and she hopped on behind him.
While she'd struck out everywhere they went, the fact that she was doing something, anything, to search for Rachel helped keep her positive. She'd spent all day running through a list of possible places Rachel could go if she were in St. John's. The chance of finding her by simply searching was slim, but somehow Rachel had managed to give her a sign by placing rocks in her mailbox. She had to keep believing Rachel would keep trying to get away from Stoddard, too.
If it happened once, it could happen again.
Chuck turned onto Lombard Street. She kept her gaze on the sidewalks. What she wouldn't give to see Rachel walking as if nothing had happened. To hold her again. To yell at her for half the night. To tell her she loved her more than anything.
In front of Bail Bonds, Chuck stopped the motorcycle. She slid off the Harley and waited for him because she knew he'd want to go inside with her. Using her key, she let him inside.
"Where's the light?" he asked.
"I'll get it." She squeezed around him and flipped the switch.
A musty odor hit her nose. She sneezed and rubbed her nose. It was an old building full of paperwork dating back thirty-five years. Shutting everything up without airing the place had her noticing smells she never noticed before.
Chuck looked in the back and returned. "Go ahead and unlock the door for the upstairs and I'll check everything out for you."
She walked across the room, searching through her keyring for the right key, and opened the door. "What are you looking for?"
"Rachel." He kissed her. "A note. Something different about the room. Any sign that she was here."
"You've only been upstairs once." She held on to his vest. "Maybe I should go up with you and look."
"Once is enough. I'll know if I see something. Stay down here and look everything over." He bound up the steps without changing his mind.
She stood in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips, and turned in a circle. Her chest constricted. The place was a neglected mess. While her father hadn't been the tidiest person, there had been order to his chaos. With the recent break-in and the fast straightening that'd happened afterward, she wasn't sure if anything had been moved or not since then.
There were papers still littered around her desk. She marched over and picked up the files and piled them on the top of an already overloaded workstation. She'd need to find time to clear everything out when she handed the keys to Notus Motorcycle club.
She sat down in the chair and opened the top drawer. Everything was gone. Her pens, her stapler, her iPad. Closing her desk, she planted her elbows on the top and cradled her chin. Her father's jar of rocks drew her attention. Had she read too much into finding the pebbles? Could children have put them in everyone's mailbox?
Chuck walked down the stairs. She stood. "Tomorrow when you're at work is it okay if I walk over and ask my neighbors if they found rocks in their mailbox lately?"
"I rather have you wait until I'm home and we can do it together," he said, turning the lock on the door and closing the upstairs from the downstairs.
"Mr. Markham is still in jail, and we haven't had any sign of his thugs being around. The ones who weren't arrested in the sting are probably laying low, so they don't get implicated." She ran her hand through her hair and her fingers stuck in her tangles. The ride on the back of a motorcycle only made her look like she felt.
"Most people work during the day and won't be home. I want you to wait until I can go with you." He pointed at her desk. "Is that your dad's jar you were telling me about?"
She reached into her pocket, taking out the two rocks she'd carried with her since finding them in the mailbox. Dropping them one after another into the jar, she said, "Yep, that's where the rocks belong."
He held out his hand. She sniffed and slipped her fingers into his. The day caught up with her. She wanted to go home with Chuck and sleep in his arms. Hopefully, tomorrow she'd be one step closer to finding Rachel.
Chapter 27
Nancy Sheridan's white Kia turned the corner. Erikka opened the front door of Chuck's house the rest of the way and jogged down the driveway, waving her arm to get Nancy's attention. The car slowed down and pulled over in front of her.
She'd played cat and mouse with every neighbor on her street since seven o'clock that morning.
The passenger window rolled down. Erikka leaned over and braced her hands on the door. "Sorry to bother you, Nancy. I wanted to ask if you've had anyone leaving gravel in your mailbox lately?"
Nancy's puckered lips relaxed. "Rocks? No."
"Okay." She patted the opening of the window. "Thanks for stopping and letting me ask."
"Why are you asking?" Nancy looked in her rearview mirror and ran a finger over her eyebrow.
"No reason, really." She stepped back from the vehicle. "It was probably some kids being clever and gifting me with rocks."
Nancy laughed. "I rather receive rocks than bills if that helps."
"It does." She waved. "Thanks again, and have a good day."
Nancy drove off, and Erikka turned and jogged back inside the house, locking the door behind her. Her plan to catch her neighbors as they traveled to work instead of visiting them at their house had worked out perfectly. That was the last person she needed to make contact with.
Since none of her neighbors had received pebbles, she was positive they were from Rachel. She only had to figure out what Rachel was trying to tell her and if Stoddard was holding her sister close by, where was she? How had she gotten away from her kidnapper to give her a sign that she was still alive?
The house phone rang. Erikka walked over and picked up the cordless receiver from the end table before she realized that she wasn't at her home or at the office. Not wanting to hang up on the person, she said, "Hello, Parker residence."
"Uh, is Chuck there?" said a feminine voice.
"No, I'm sorry. Can I take a message?" She turned around looking for a pen and paper. Not finding one, she took her phone out of her pocket and opened a note.
"Yeah, tell him I've been back in town two days and he hasn't come to see me," said the woman.
"Can you give me your name and phone number and I'll have him call you back." She kept the bite out of her voice. The woman was rather rude.
"It's Samantha. He knows how to contact me." Samantha paused. "Who is this?"
"Chuck's girlfriend," she said staring a hole in the couch.
Samantha laughed. "That's hilarious. Okay, whatever you want to call yourself. Have Chuck call me."
Erikka disconnected the call when the phone rang again. Chuck really needed to get a phone that showed names and not only phone numbers of incoming calls. It rang again. Normally, she ignored his landline, because if Chuck needed to talk with her, he used her cell. He had an answering service for his personal calls at home. But, Samantha irritated her by laughing, so she answered the next call. "Hello, Parker residence."
"Erikka? It's Gracie."
"Oh, hey," she said.
"I was just going to leave a message for Chuck." Gracie softened her voice. "I didn't want to bother him at work."
Of course, she didn't. Erikka stepped over and sat on the couch. "Do you want me to give him a message?"
"No, that's okay."
What was it about women calling Chuck? Have all the unanswered calls during the day while Chuck had been at work from women wanting to leave him messages?
Erikka rolled her eyes. "How about I hang up, and you can call again, and I won't answer, that way you can leave a message."
"No, don't be silly. I'll call him after work. It wasn't important anyway." A shuffling noise came over the phone. "While I'm talking to you, how are you?"
"I'm fine."
"You're not, but I understand. Chuck mentioned how t
here's hope that your sister is in St. John's. That sounds like a positive thing," said Gracie.
Erikka's jaw ached, and she unclenched her teeth. When had Chuck talked with Gracie since Sunday? Besides at work, he'd been with her constantly.
"I have hope that we'll find her soon," she said. "Look, I don't mean to cut this short, but I was in the middle of something. I'll tell Chuck you called or you call him. It doesn't matter. Bye."
She disconnected the call and raised the phone above her head, wanting to throw it against the wall. Like all the other times, she should've let it go to voicemail. Her better mood at being productive all day went south.
She hated being jealous when finding her sister was more important. To get her back on track, she used her cell phone to call Lieutenant Gomez and left a message letting him know that out of all her neighbors, only her mailbox was the one that had two rocks left inside. Maybe now he'd take her seriously and not think she was grasping at signs that had no valid proof.
An hour later, the rumble of a motorcycle vibrated Chuck's house. She walked out of the laundry room with a stack of clean clothes and carried them up to the bedroom. Try as she might, she couldn't shake being upset at Chuck and all his women.
"Erikka?" shouted Chuck.
She shut the dresser drawer. "Up here."
The thunk of boot steps clambered up the stairs and stopped. She turned around and flipped her hand in a non-committal wave by her shoulder. "I was putting away our clothes."
Her stomach fluttered at the sight of him. How could it be possible after a day's work, he looked even better than when he'd left her early this morning?
"Do you still want to go talk to your neighbors?" He stepped over to her and kissed her.
His mouth stayed on her, and he nudged her bottom lip, wanting inside her mouth and she pursed her lips. He pulled back. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I watched the street all day and was able to run out and flag each of the neighbors down as they passed your house. None of them had any rocks in their mailbox." She stepped around him and walked to the door before she stopped again. "I already left a message with the lieutenant, so everything I wanted to do today is done."
