The first couple that walked in comes up to the counter. Both of them are carrying cinnamon rolls and cups of coffee.
“Traveling far today?” I ask, as I ring them in.
“We just moved to New York from Oklahoma and we’ve been exploring as much of New England as we can. We’re looking for the perfect place to host our wedding. It’s so beautiful up here but it’s so cold,” the woman says while I make change from the twenty that her fiancé gave me.
“Yes it is. Enjoy your trip and please drive carefully. Oh, and congratulations. Weddings in the fall are simply gorgeous around here.”
She waves good-bye as her fiancé pulls her out of the store. I don’t have much time to recover, not that I need it, before the family comes up to the counter with their arms full of snacks. As I ring them in, the kids pretend to box behind their parents, the dad reads the newspapers, and the mom fiddles with her phone. They’re likely locals from another town, not interested in conversation.
After I give them their total and they pay, I wait for the last two people, who decide they don’t need anything after using the rest room. I wave good-bye and glance at the clock; two hours left.
Laura’s never been strict on electronics in the store, as long as it’s clean, she doesn’t care what we do. I pull out my tablet—determined to read—when my finger accidentally hits my email button. I rarely check my email since everyone I know lives in town and my parents had passed away long before … well, for a long time now.
Email after email comes in, most of them junk, but one from late last night catches my attention. You told me to email! I look around the store to make sure it’s empty before I open it. I know I shouldn’t but this can’t be a coincidence.
Dear Amy,
Earlier today an FBI lady and her partner came in asking questions about you and your storage unit. They said you were missing and were shocked to find that you’ve been paying. They confiscated the motorcycle for evidence or something.
Buzz.
My heart drops to the floor, followed by my stomach and knees. Pain radiates through my legs when I hit the ground and the breath I need to keep me from hyperventilating isn’t anywhere to be found. She’s found me. She’s coming for me. She’s coming to take my baby away from me.
She took the last thing I had of Tucker. And with that knowledge my heart breaks into a million pieces. The day I found out he died, I ran. I knew Lawson was coming to take Claire and would likely kill me if I didn’t hand her over. There was no way in hell that scum was getting my baby. So I left and walked away from everything. I held out hope that one day I’d return and have something left over from my life with Tucker. Now I have nothing except Claire and she doesn’t even remember him.
I try to control my breathing before someone comes in. The last thing I want to do is start more gossip about the status of my health. I try to type a response, but my fingers aren’t working correctly and everything seems blurry. Resting my hands on the counter, I stare down at the words, memorizing them before I shut my tablet off and put it back in my bag. This is exactly why I never look on the web. It never yields anything good, just torment and pain.
When Laura walks in I try to hide the indifference I’m feeling about myself right now. It’s taking everything within me to not run. All I can see is Claire and I in a car, driving until I’m far away from here and there are no traces that I ever existed, except I can’t do that to Ray. He’s been so good to us, loving Claire as if he’s her father. He’s been there through all the bumps and bruises, the late night homework sessions and that first crush. Ray is a good man and deserves to know what I’m bringing down on him.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say with the wave of my hand. “I stumbled a little getting my tablet out of my bag. I’m just sore.” I fumble my way through the muddy waters that I’m creating. Laura looks at me and shrugs, and I can’t tell if she’s bought my story or not. Either way, I’m leaning against the counter for support because my knees hurt.
“Well I’m here if you want to go home.”
“Thank you.” Breathing out a sigh of relief, I gather my things quickly, almost forgetting to take off my apron. I’m almost free until I touch the handle on the door and my name is called.
“Amy?”
I swallow the lump in my throat and turn around. I smile softly at my boss and friend, praying my tears stay at bay.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” I tell her, but know my face doesn’t agree.
“You know you can talk to me. I won’t tell anyone, if you’re having troubles at home. I’ll help you.”
I shake my head adamantly. “Ray and I are great.” I nod my head, hoping I’m conveying my message.
“Is there someone else?”
Yes, but he’s dead and my last physical memento of him has been stolen. Furrowing my brows, I shake my head. “No, of course not, Laura. I should go.” I point to the door with my thumb over my shoulder. “My knees hurt.”
I don’t wait for her to saying anything, and I hope she realizes I won’t be at work tomorrow. I need time. These past few days have really done a number on me and I have to find a way to get past this.
And I either need to tell Ray everything or I need to run because Frannie is coming after us and I can’t let her hurt my family. Ray will be better off if Claire and I aren’t here. He’ll be safe. I know he won’t understand and he’ll tell me to stay, and that he’ll protect me, but he can’t. He’s a gentle man, a kind soul who wouldn’t hurt a fly.
There’s only one way I’m safe and that’s if she’s dead.
THE NAME AMY JONES stares back at me, almost mocking me because it knows that I’m limited in what I can do to find out who this person is. My cell phone sits next to me, the ringer switched on as I wait for Marley to call back with details on where I’m going to find Amy Jones.
Marley and Cara spoke briefly today when Marley returned my call. Cara informed her that we’d fly to the East Coast once Marley could locate this Amy Jones. I’m not convinced this person is my Penelope, but Cara has hope. I guess that’s part of her job, to be optimistic.
“A watched phone will never ring,” Carole says as she enters the dining room in her wheelchair. When her and Ryley were in their accident, Carole ended up taking the brunt of the impact. If I remember correctly, she had a broken pelvis to go along with two broken legs, but I can’t be for sure. Ryley told me her mom goes through extensive rehab and has to learn to walk again, which Carole says will be accomplished by the summer so she can hold Nate’s arm as he walks her down the aisle to her seat for Ryley and Evan’s wedding. And because it’ll be on the beach, Carole has to be confident in her steps since walking in sand is a bitch for anyone. Unless Carole wants to wear her combat boots.
“I know, but I’m afraid to leave it.”
“It’s portable, it can go with you.” She points out the obvious, except I’m afraid that if I move it from its spot my cell coverage will weaken and I’ll still miss the call or won’t be able to hear Marley clearly.
“You’re going to find them, Tucker. Penelope is out there just waiting for you to come and get her.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. She thinks I’m dead and knows people are looking for her. If I were her, I’d be hiding in plain sight just so I could watch my surroundings. I wouldn’t trust anyone, which is why I’m confused about this Amy Jones person. Whoever she is, she knows where to find Penelope.”
“And what are you going to do when you find her?”
Cry. Scream. Jump for joy. “I don’t know.” I shrug. “I’m trying to tell myself that my situation will be different from Archer’s or Rask’s, but the truth is, it’ll likely be the same. I’m going to have to convince her I’m alive and pray that my daughter remembers me, but I doubt she will.”
“And what if Penelope has moved on?”
Shaking my head, I drop my head into my hands and sigh. “I can’t t
hink about that. I don’t know what I’ll do if she’s remarried. I wouldn’t blame her, though, because it’s been six years and she should remarry and find happiness, but she’s my wife … at least for a few more months. If I don’t find her soon, it’s not going to matter what I think.”
“How are you liking Marley?”
I crack a brief smile. “Marley is efficient. You were right when you suggested that I try using a female PI.”
Carole smiles and rests her hand on my mine. “Cara shared with me what Marley found. Penny is brave, Tucker. She did what any mother would’ve done in her position. She couldn’t turn to you and feared for her daughter’s safety. You can’t hold that against her.”
“I don’t. I just pray that wherever she is, she’s safe and happy. And that Claire is loved and enjoying life.”
A phone rings off in the distance and even though I know it’s not mine, I pick it up and say hello. Carole must think I’m a goof because she’s laughing.
“I’m freaking out.”
“I know,” she says, patting my hand. “But Marley will call when she finds something. I’ve known her for a long time, and she’s always been efficient.”
EJ comes into the room with his camo pants on and a shirt that says ‘Future SEAL’. It makes me wonder how Ryley and her family feel about his desire to go into the Navy. I think, under the circumstances, they’d probably discourage him when he’s older. I know I would now.
“Wanna go fishing, Uncle Tucker?”
“Thanks, Buddy, but I’m going to hang out here with your grandma.”
“Why?” He puts his hands up in a shrug. I guess to him, hanging out with grandma over going fishing with him and his grandpa doesn’t make much sense. Honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, either. For all I know Marley won’t call for days.
“EJ, don’t be bothering Tucker,” Ryley says as she enters the room. EJ huffs and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Fine.” He stomps off to the door that leads to the garage.
“Is he mad at me?” I ask Ryley.
Stifling a laugh, she shakes her head. “No, he’s looking for someone to bait his hook since my dad makes him do it himself. EJ says the worms are too wiggly.”
“Ah, I see. Clever little dude.”
Ryley and Carole both nod. The mood is light and somewhat cheery even though I’m on edge. Cara’s voice echoes down the hall, and as much as I’m straining to hear her, I can’t. She hangs up as she walks into the dining room, pocketing her phone.
We’re all silent as she pulls out a chair and sits down. On the inside I’m freaking out because she’s sporting her FBI face. She’s either hiding something or about to rip my heart out of my chest.
“Marley called,” she begins, and my mouth drops open. I bring my phone to life and see that I don’t have a missed call, which means Marley didn’t call me. What the fuck does that mean?
“I know what you’re thinking, McCoy, but it was easier for her to call me. She’s located Amy Jones; the only problem is that there are over three hundred registered with the bank. Of those three hundred, she found that one hundred and sixty of them have children who match Claire’s age.”
“Well shit,” I mutter.
“Penny has chosen one of the most common names in the United States to hide under. There are over six hundred thousand Amy’s in the US.”
Making eye contact with Cara, I shake my head. “We don’t know that Amy and Penny are the same person.”
Cara sighs. “I get your hesitation, but I’m working under the assumption they’re the same person until I find out otherwise. Marley is sending me a map of all the Amy Jones’ near the bank locations. We’ll leave tonight to fly to New York and start there. Unfortunately, we’ll need to split up to cover more ground.”
Ryley comes over to me and gives me a hug. I can feel tears on my neck, but don’t call attention to it. I can’t imagine what she thinking or going through right now. Years ago she lost Evan and her friend, Penny, only to assume that Penny left, unable to handle the heartache. I’ve never wished so hard that Penny would’ve confided in her about what happened, but I understand why—fear, it’s crippling. And I’m sure the last thing Penny was thinking about was Ryley and her feelings. She was in mom mode, protecting our daughter.
Both Ryley and Carole leave me at the table to collect my thoughts. Visions of Penny running into my arms flood my mind. That’s the reunion I want. Realistically, the reunion I’ll get is Penny telling me she’s in love with someone else. It’d make sense. For all I know she’s been with them longer than she was with me and I really have no leg to stand on.
Rising, I turn to stare out of the sliding glass door. Jensen and EJ are visible from where I am. It looks so peaceful on the lake, and now I wish I had gone fishing; at least then my thoughts would have some company.
“Wherever you are, Penny, I’m coming for you.”
I’ve never flown on a commercial airline at night before. It’s different looking out of the window and seeing nothing but a dark mass of nothing below you. Before, I’d never be able to look out until the hatch door opened and I’d be ready to jump into the unknown. Somehow, flying now, makes me miss my parachute and jumping at night. At this moment, I’d really like the security of my chute.
This time, I walked through the airport like everyone else except for the fact that I had a badge in my hand. When I asked Cara why the difference, she filled me in on how her friend Riggs is on vacation and he brought his badge over to the Clarke’s with the understanding that Cara would return it before he came back from Mexico. And that I wouldn’t kill anyone. The latter I can’t promise because if I see Frannie, she’s dead. If it’s by my hands or a gun, it doesn’t matter as long as I’m the one doing it.
Torturing her would be ideal. Pulling her fingernails out. Smashing her kneecaps. Breaking each finger one by one. I’d cause so much pain she would beg me to kill her, but I wouldn’t. I’d let her sit there for hours with an audiotape in the background playing the sounds of screaming children begging for their moms and dads, crying uncontrollably. She’d hear them pleading, asking their attackers to stop raping them. I’d play it over and over again until she begged me to end her life.
The fact that I have these thoughts sickens me. I can’t help it. The mere mention of her sends me into a rage that I’ve never known before. It’s worse now than when we stumbled up on Renato. Frannie, of all people, should’ve been protecting my daughter. We let her into our home, welcomed her with open arms, only for her to have an agenda that would be the end of my family. She needs to pay.
I startle awake when the plane touches down. I must’ve fallen asleep, and feel worse now than I did when I boarded. Gazing out the window, the early morning sun casts a bright glow over New York. The stores and businesses are starting to open and people will start their commute to work. The streets are going to be crowded with cars, foot traffic, and the NYPD standing in the center of an intersection telling everyone which way they can go.
Cara and I deplane and immediately head for the car service area. Instead of checking luggage, we only brought duffle bags with a few items. Inside mine, I have a large sum of money, which she was able to procure before we left. I think that when I grow up I want to become an agent like her. I’ve seen her create magic out of thin air with this trip. She flashes her badge, allowing us to bypass the travelers waiting in the taxi line. We both slide in the cab, and then Cara gives the driver an address and tells him there’s double pay if he hurries.
He does.
My eyes are glued to the people we’re passing, wondering if Amy is in the mix. She could be here, walking the streets of Manhattan carrying a briefcase. Before Claire was born, Penny wanted to own her own boutique. Maybe she’s here now working at Saks, or Macy’s.
The driver stops at a hotel about a block off Times Square. It’s shady and not what I’d expect Cara to stay in. I have a feeling she’s not, though, and this will be my residence for the time
being. She checks us in and I follow her down the hall to the last door. When she draws her gun, my heart rate spikes, and for the first time in a long time it’s out of fear. She holds her hand up, fist closed, telling me to wait, and since she has the gun, I listen. Cara enters the room, pointing her gun left then right before disappearing into the bathroom.
“All clear,” she says, holstering her gun as I walk in.
“Um … what was that?” I ask, closing the door behind me.
“Precaution. I’ve had to call in some favors, and one of the people I spoke to yesterday has been an outspoken supporter of Lawson. I don’t know how much of my conversation they overheard.”
“Well that makes me feel safe.”
She nods. “Open your duffle.” Cara crosses the small room and closes the curtains.
After setting it down on the bed, I do as she instructs. Inside are the clothes she asked for, my pictures of Penny and Claire—both with age progression—and the cash she put in there earlier. I look at her in confusion, wondering what I’m missing.
“Hidden inside the fold of your pants is a piece. Only fire if you feel you’re in imminent danger. If you get arrested, your one phone call is to me and only me, and you don’t say anything to anyone. Understand?”
“Yes.” The feel of the cool metal as it touches my fingertips brings me an odd sense of calm. Even when I wasn’t on duty or deployed, I always had an accessible weapon.
“Here are the lists that Marley sent, along with detailed maps. Each red dot is an Amy Jones. It’s either her maiden or married name. The records Marley was able to get a hold of didn’t break it down for her. You’re going to go door-to-door and introduce yourself as Riggs. If a woman answers, ask if she’s Amy Jones, you’ll know right off if it’s Penny as she’ll be able to tell it’s you. If it’s a man, show him the picture of Penny and ask if he’s seen her.
Save Me Page 11
