“If you do encounter Penny, don’t panic. She’s liable to freak out. Give her the address to this place and ask her to meet you and call me straight away.”
“Easier said than done, but I understand.” I don’t know how I’m not going to panic if I see Penny. I’ll be in full freak out mode whether I intend to be or not.
“When you’re out, never take the same route back home. You need to work under the impression that someone is following you. You have enough money to eat three meals, buy extra clothes if you need to, and for your transportation. The room is covered.
“Now, I’m heading north to cover the New England area. We will check in each night at eight p.m. If I don’t hear from you, I’m going to assume you’ve been compromised. If that’s the case, buy a new phone and call me, so that your call cannot be traced in any way. Memorize my number.”
“And what if I don’t hear from you?”
Cara looks at me for a minute before sighing. “You will, but if you don’t head back to Coronado and wait for Riggs to return to the Clarke’s. He knows what’s going on and will take over for me.”
“Okay.” Suddenly I’m not so sure I like this. I’d like to go back to sitting on Evan’s deck, watching the shipyard across the Sound.
“McCoy, everything is going to be fine. We don’t know what Frannie is capable of so we need to move as if she’s out there. We also don’t know who Lawson has working for him on the outside.”
“Hughes, how is it that you’re able to work on this case?”
“When you were getting reacquainted with your bike, I filed a kidnapping report with the Bureau and asked to be assigned. The message Penny wrote on the picture, and the fact that her credit hasn’t been used since before you died, was enough to get a case open. By next week, all Federal buildings will have Penny’s face hanging in them.”
“What if she runs?” I ask, choking back a sob.
“We’ll be there to catch her.”
I want to pull her into a hug, but it’s not the right thing to do at this moment. So I nod and offer the best smile I can even though I’m falling apart on the inside. She smiles back before exiting the room, leaving me with my thoughts and a map to every Amy Jones in the surrounding area.
Time to find my wife.
HOUSE AFTER HOUSE, I knock and wait. Some answer, some don’t, some slam their door in my face when they see I don’t have a car, likely thinking I’m sort of creep, and some say they’ll keep their eyes out except we both know they won’t. How many people actually look out for a missing person they have no ties to, when the Feds—even the fake Feds—are searching for them? Not many I can imagine.
Before I started out this morning I bought a clipboard to keep my maps and notes straight, making sure to go back after dinner to those houses where there was no answer or people were out at work.
When Penny moved to Coronado, she started working in an office on base as a secretary. Some of our best dates were lunch dates. I used to stop by to see her, bringing her something to eat. We’d take a stroll on the beach before both of us had to go back to work. When Claire arrived, Penny talked about daycare, but I didn’t want them separated like that and suggested she stay at home. The plan was for her to go back to work once Claire started preschool, but they never made it that far.
I walk up the stairs and knock on the next door. It’s a small modest house, something that would’ve driven Penny nuts. She loved having space and walls to decorate.
“Can I help you?” The woman who answers is definitely not Penny. She’s too short and very young.
“Are you Amy Jones?”
“Who’s asking?”
“I’m SA Riggs with the FBI,” I say, showing her my badge. “Do you know this woman or have you seen her?” I hold up the photo of Penny and she takes it. This is the first house I’ve stopped at where the resident has actually taken the photo from my hands. She doesn’t need to know that they’re potentially sharing the same name. I’m here to find an Amy Jones who knows my wife and is paying her storage bill. I’m trying not to get my hopes up at the way she’s studying the photo of Penny. This woman is probably just concerned that a woman is missing and that’s all.
“Does she look familiar?” I hedge.
“Yes she does, but I can’t place her.” She shakes her head, maybe clearing her thoughts. My heart falls when she hands the photo back to me. “I’m sorry.”
“But you’ve seen her?”
She bites her lower lip, seeming unsure of herself. “I don’t know. Maybe it was her, but I’ve met a lot of people recently.”
“Where do you think you’ve seen her?” I’m trying to remain calm when in reality I want to reach out and shake her.
“Like I said, I’m not sure. My fiancé and I have been doing a lot of traveling recently, trying to find a wedding venue. We’ve come across a lot of people. But the woman I’m thinking of isn’t blonde.”
“What color hair did she have?”
“Dark brown I think. Is she in trouble?”
I shake my head. “No, she’s been kidnapped and we’re trying to locate her.”
“Oh, that’s sad.”
“Yes it is. Where have you traveled recently?”
“Oh gosh,” she says, inhaling deeply. “All over New York, including upstate and Long Island, and throughout New England, too. I’m sorry, but I don’t remember exactly. My fiancé might, but he’s not home right now.”
“What time will he be home? I can come back.”
“Usually about six or seven, depending on if he catches the right train.”
“Great, thank you,” I say as I turn away and walk down her steps. I can feel her watching me, so I stare down at my clipboard and make notes even though I’m dying to call Cara and Marley. I know Cara only wants to touch base at night, but this is too important. I pull out my cell phone and hover over Cara’s name, but at the last second press Marley’s number. She’ll be able to find out where this Amy Jones has recently visited.
“Marley Johnson,” she answers on the third ring, much to my relief.
“This is McCoy.” I keep my voice down because Amy Jones is still standing in her doorway watching me.
“How’s the East Coast weather?”
“Great. The ninth address on the list knows something. She says Penny looks familiar but can’t place her, and also says she has dark hair, maybe brown. She’s been traveling recently all over New York and into New England looking for a wedding venue.”
“But she can’t tell you where?”
“No, she can’t place her.” I glance over my shoulder at Amy and smile, hoping to relieve any suspicion she’s feeling right now. Here I am standing on her sidewalk talking on my cell phone instead of in a car. I need to get moving before she decides to call the cops on me.
“Okay, give me a few hours to pull her financials.”
“Thank you, Marley.”
“Of course, Tucker. I’ll call you in a few. In the meantime, keep knocking on those doors. We’re getting close. I can feel it.”
“Hey, Marley … I just want to thank you for doing what the others couldn’t.”
“Tucker, if I didn’t try, I wouldn’t be doing my job properly. We’re going to find them and you’ll have your family back.”
Marley hangs up, leaving me speechless and torn. I have no doubt we’ll find them, but I’m not so confident that I’ll have my family back. Even though it’s what I want most in the world, I may have to accept the fact that they’ve moved on without me and I’ll be the dad Claire is forced to come see during vacations and the rare holiday.
Hard decisions will have to be made if they’ve moved on. I don’t want to disrupt their lives. I don’t want to be the dad that makes their daughter regret them because I interrupted her happiness. My feelings aren’t going to matter if she doesn’t remember me or wants nothing to do with me.
I wave to the one Amy Jones who may have changed everything for me and continue down the street until I
’m about a half mile away and knocking on the next door.
“What the fuck did he do now?” the lady behind the screen door screeches.
“Ma’am, I’m SA Riggs, have you seen this woman?”
“You ain’t here for Junior?”
“Not unless he has something to do with this woman’s kidnapping.”
“Oh I’ll kill him.” She leaves the door and starts yelling down the hall. I should leave, but I’m interested in knowing who Junior is and why he’s in so much trouble with his mother.
When Junior comes to the door, I estimate that he’s about fifteen years old and maybe one hundred and ten pounds if he ate a sandwich.
“Wasn’t me,” he says as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Step outside, son.”
“Ah, man, I didn’t do it. I was home all night.” He steps out, swinging the screen door so hard it hits the porch rails.
I grab him by the back of the neck so he’s looking at me. “Where’s your father?”
He shrugs. “Gone.”
“So that makes you the man of the house, and from what I can gather you’re stressing your mother out. Get your act together and take care of her because she doesn’t need to worry about you. Am I clear? If I have to come back here, I’m taking you in for the disappearance of this woman, got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
I let him go back into the house only to see his mother start hitting him with her dishtowel. It can’t be fun having an unruly teen, and it’s clearly not the first time the authorities have come to the door. When I’m a SEAL again, I’m going to come back and talk to him about enlisting. The service will teach him everything his mom is trying to do, but will demand that he respects himself while doing it.
Sirens, laughter and the odd screaming keep me pacing the floor while I wait for Cara to call. I’m going stir crazy, as the minutes and seconds tick on without any word from her. With her professional training she is more versed on how an investigation should go. Me, I wanted to go back to that one Amy Jones and sit in her living room until she’s recounted every place she’d been until she remembers where she saw Penny. One thing’s for sure, Penny is alive. She’s out there somewhere, and so is Claire. I’m certain of that fact, unless that lady isn’t remembering correctly, and then we’re back to square one and I’m still going door-to-door like a shitty salesman, but with nothing to offer. Only doors aren’t slammed in my face; instead, it’s the look of pity I receive as a result of what these people feel for Penny, even though they don’t know her.
I hear a scuffle in the hall, but through my peephole I can’t see what’s going on. Voices are getting louder and coming closer to my room. Pressing myself against my door, I try to decipher what I’m hearing but the words are muffled. You would think for a low-end hotel, the doors would be thinner, but that’s not the case.
I freeze when I hear my name, and by my name I mean Tucker McCoy, not the name I’m checked in by.
“I don’t have a guest by that name, ma’am.” The manager’s voice is right outside my door. Through the peephole I can see him and the back of another person. When that person turns to pound on my door, I see her. It’s Frannie.
Rage fills me instantly and I’m tempted to open the door, but I’d be hauled away for murder. When I take her out, it’ll be in the privacy of a place that I chose, not in a hotel.
“I know he’s here,” she snaps, pounding on my door. How the fuck does she know I’m here? Cara was right, there’s a mole inside her division—and it’s probably the Lawson follower.
I place my foot against the door and stretch until the gun Cara left me is firm in my hand. As carefully as I can, I check the magazine to confirm it’s loaded and flip off the safety.
For a brief moment I think about opening the door and welcoming her with open arms and once the manager walks away, gagging her. Bed sheets are easy to rip. I could tie her to the chair and torment her until the Feds came to pick her up, except I wouldn’t be able to explain to them how I’m in the possession of an agent’s badge.
Either way I’m fucked. I can’t kill her and I can’t take her as a hostage. Life is really unfair sometimes.
Of course, life also has a funny way of turning the knife even more at the most inopportune moments. My phone starts ringing, the chimes echoing throughout the room.
“Someone is in there,” she says, pounding on the door again and asking for her husband.
I have no choice but to let the phone go to voicemail, which I know will alert Cara that something is not quite right. After seven rings, it goes off again. I realize that I need to get out of this room while Frannie is still in the hallway.
Sliding the door chain on as quietly as I can, I grab the lone chair in the room and position it under the doorknob to keep her out. Picking up my bag and making sure I’ve left nothing behind, I head to the window.
As my luck would have it, not only is my phone ringing again, but the window hasn’t been opened in years.
“Shit,” I mutter as I push with all my might to get it to shift. When it finally does I wiggle out, drop to the street, and sling my duffle bag over my shoulders.
First stop is the Army Navy store—no more playing a helpless Fed. I need to have the tools that I’m used to. I just hope they don’t ask for ID.
When I’m far enough away from the hotel I pull out my phone and call Cara back.
“Productive day I hear.”
“Frannie showed up at the hotel. I had to bail.”
“Fuck. I knew that piece of shit in my office was working for Lawson. Where are you?”
“Doesn’t matter, Hughes. She’s here and I need to get lost. I’m heading to the Army Navy store to get the gear I need to survive. If I see her, I’m going to kill her and I can’t do that if I’m carrying your buddy’s badge. I need to ditch it someplace safe until you can retrieve it. I’m going hunting.”
“No, Tucker, you need to get on the train and head north to Boston. You’ll meet Ryley, Rask, and Archer there.”
“Why?”
“I found her, McCoy.”
“ARE YOU READY?” I yell up the stairs to Ray and Chloe; both of them are taking their own sweet time getting ready. “We’re going to be late.”
Ray appears first, followed by Chloe. They both come thundering down the stairs. Ray pulls up short and kisses me on the lips before brushing past me.
“I’m not kissing you,” Chloe remarks with a smart little roll of her eyes. I remember when I was her age; my mother would tell me she’s going to slap my eyes straight if they kept rolling like that. I can’t say that to Chloe, though. For one Ray wouldn’t like it, and secondly, it would make Chloe cry. I’ve coddled her so much since we left California and I can’t bear to see her cry.
“I didn’t want you to kiss me anyway,” I say, walking past her and sticking my tongue out. It only takes a few seconds for her to start chasing after me to give me a kiss, but it’s the hug that follows which means more than she’ll ever know.
After my email from Buzz, I decided that telling Ray could wait. When I changed my name I chose something so common that it’d be hard to trace. The money I put into the bank is cash that I mail in. Once a month I travel to the bigger city and mail it. If it’s being traced now, after six years, then so be it. But I will not strike fear in my husband’s life about someone that may or may not be coming to get me.
If I told Ray now, he’d worry and he’d fuss over me. I can’t have that. He’d want me to quit my job and I need to stay busy. My mind has to have something to do so I’m not constantly worrying, although despite my best endeavors, that’s exactly what I’m doing.
I feel like everyone who comes into the store is staring at me. The cracks are starting to show, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep my lies straight. Yesterday, before I went to work I had to remind myself what my name was, where I’m from, and that Chloe doesn’t have a biological father. They’re all lies that I’ve told people in town s
o that when someone does come looking for Penelope McCoy, people won’t know who they’re talking about.
“Are you going to put a coat on?” Ray asks, shaking me out of my thoughts.
I smile softly at him and grab my coat before following him outside. This afternoon we’re heading to the Village Green for the winter flea market, arts festival, and snow-sculpting contest. I’m not a big fan of the cold, but Chloe has fun at it and Ray has a duty to make appearances at the town gatherings.
“Mom, did you know they had to bring trucks of snow in for this?”
“Yes, I saw them yesterday dumping it all. Then the drivers came in for lunch.”
“One of these years I’m going to enter,” Ray says as I look at him sideways. He’s never sculpted anything in his life.
“Well I’m sure we’ll get plenty of snow this year for you to practice.” I pat his hand with mine as he navigates down the road. We don’t live very far from the Green and probably should’ve walked.
The Green is bustling with people, a lot of them I don’t recognize, which is a good thing. Tonight at the store, Laura is working and I told her if she needs me to let me know. I’ll happily step out of the cold and into the store for warmth. But she won’t call. I know she overheard Ray saying how much he was looking forward to tonight.
Ray parks and we get out linking hands as a family. There’s live music coming from the gazebo and a few people are dancing.
“Are there fireworks tonight?” Ray asks. I nod, remembering the flyer that hangs in the store stating as such.
As soon as we hit the Green, Chloe runs off to find her friends. My heart races, knowing she won’t be next to me, but I can’t let my fear get in the way of her having a healthy and fun relationship with her peers.
Ray pulls me through the crowd and onto the makeshift dance floor, spinning me around before setting us right into a dance. The band playing has a pretty good following and you can tell a lot of their fans are here, singing right along with the lead singer.
Once our dance is over, Ray takes me by the hand, still dancing as we move toward the front of the market area. Each booth we stop at turns into a chat session, and it takes us about twenty minutes before we’re moving on to the next.
Save Me Page 12
