by B. J Daniels
With an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach, Arlene thought about how Charlotte had taken up for her sister Violet, taking that pain out on drunks at the bar. She shivered. What would Charlotte do under these circumstances? Unable to defend even herself, let alone her baby.
If Hank hadn’t persisted…Arlene hated to think how badly she’d wanted to believe the phone call from Charlotte, the note. She hadn’t wanted to face that anything could have happened to her daughter. That some crazy woman had abducted her and—
She brushed at the tears that burned her eyes as she watched Hank hurry toward the van. She couldn’t panic. She’d been holding it together. That’s what she’d always done. She was the strong one. She was the one who had always protected her family as best she could.
And now she had Hank on her side.
Meredith didn’t know that they knew she wasn’t pregnant. She wouldn’t hurt the baby. If Charlotte hadn’t had the baby yet, if she was being held in this cabin…
They would find her. Get there in time. Charlotte and the baby would be safe. And Meredith Foster would be locked up for a very long time.
She had to believe that.
“What is it?” she asked as Hank climbed behind the wheel of the van and she saw the frown on his face.
“Nothing.” He sighed, looked over at her and added, “It’s Foster. The guy worries me, that’s all.”
“Worries you how?” she asked as Hank started the van and they took off south toward Red Lodge.
“His reactions seem all wrong. Maybe it just takes him longer to assimilate what’s going on.” He gave her a reassuring smile and reached for her hand. “It’s probably just me.”
Arlene doubted that. Hank had great instincts. From the beginning he’d thought Charlotte’s disappearance was suspect.
THE ELEVATION changed more than two thousand feet as they drove from Billings to Red Lodge at the base of Red Lodge Mountain. They drove through the turn-of-the-century downtown, with its sandstone and brick edifices of the late 1800s. Red Lodge was best known as the start of the sixty-eight-mile long Bear-tooth Highway, a gateway to the high country.
“According to the map, you go out of town toward the Red Lodge Mountain ski resort for four-point-four miles,” Arlene said, reading what John Foster had written.
The day cooled as they reached the dense pines at the foot of the mountain.
“Take the next right.”
Hank did, then pulled off the road and into the trees. “I’m going on foot from here.” She watched him strap on a holster and check the gun to make sure it was loaded.
“I’m going with you.” It must have been her tone.
He glanced over at her, seemed to hesitate, then nodded. “Just stay behind me. And if all hell breaks loose, you dive for the dirt.”
Arlene followed him as they kept to the trees. The evening was hot. Only the shade of the pines cooled the still air. According to the map, the cabin was just over the next rise.
Hank stopped, motioned her to silence as he pulled out a pair of small binoculars and crawled up the hill. She followed, doing as he did. When she reached him, he handed her the binoculars. She peered down at a small log cabin. There were no vehicles in sight. But there was a barn not far from the cabin.
She lowered the binoculars and handed them back to Hank.
“We’ll check the barn first,” he whispered, and she nodded, seeing no other place Meredith could have stashed her silver SUV.
The sky darkened behind the mountains as the sun made its descent and the first breath of cool air moved over them. The fragrant scent of pine grew stronger as they worked their way through the trees to the barn.
The barn was old, probably part of a ranch that had since subdivided. Hank tried the door, keeping his eye on the cabin. Arlene fought the urge to storm up to the cabin. If Charlotte was in there…
The barn door yawned open with a groan. Dust motes danced in the dim light, the smell of hay as strong as that of old manure. No silver SUV.
Hank turned to her and motioned toward the cabin. Arlene was sure that, like her, he suspected they would find the cabin empty, as well.
This wasn’t where Meredith had taken Charlotte. Arlene felt the weight of her worry drag at her as they worked their way to the back of the cabin. Hank peered in one of the windows and shook his head.
The cabin was small and open. And empty.
“WHERE’S DELORES?”
Hank looked over at Arlene behind the wheel of his SUV. She’d offered to drive, since he hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. He hadn’t been able to sleep, though, too keyed up and upset.
He hadn’t been paying any attention and now saw that they were almost back to Whitehorse. They hadn’t passed another car in miles. The land lay dark beneath the starlit big sky, the headlights carving a narrow swath of gold through the darkness as they sped along the two-lane road. For the last hundred and fifty miles there had been no towns, nothing but open country.
“Delores?” he repeated, tired and discouraged and starting to feel the effects of no sleep.
“I don’t think she’s been at the house since the first time we were there,” Arlene said. She’d obviously given this some thought. “Didn’t you notice the dust?”
“Dust?”
“And when I was looking for coffee, I saw that the refrigerator was almost empty except for some frozen dinners.”
It took him a moment to catch up. He was still back on the dust. The Fosters were meticulous. The house spotless. At least the first time he and Arlene had been there.
He sat up, coming fully awake, his brain finally catching up. “Delores.”
He snatched up his cell phone. “I need everything you can get me on a woman named Delores. No last name. She is in the employ of John and Meredith Foster of Billings, Montana, and I suspect has been for some time.”
“IT WAS JUST A nightmare,” Violet repeated for the third time. She’d come out of the dream to find two orderlies holding her down on the bed and the doctor standing by, looking concerned.
“Perhaps we should try a different medication,” the doctor said as he studied Violet now.
She noticed that the orderlies hadn’t left the room. What were they expecting her to do?
“I’m fine. Of course I was combative. You would have been, too, if you woke up and two men were holding you down.” She just wanted them to leave. “I just need to go back to sleep.”
He frowned. “Have you been having trouble sleeping?”
She knew better than to lie. “It’s excitement. Isn’t it normal that I’m excited about the idea of life outside these walls?” Escaping this hell hole.
“I can understand that,” he said slowly. “Are you worried you might not be able to cope on the outside?”
She warned herself not to answer too quickly. “Not worried. Of course I’m anxious. But I feel, after all the help I’ve gotten here with you and the other doctors, that I can do it. I want to do it. I want to make you proud.”
He beamed and rose from the chair he’d pulled up beside her bed. “Good.”
“How much longer do you think it will be?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking.
“Well…” He didn’t look at her and she knew. That bitch of a nurse had reported her odd behavior, and now this. “I’m thinking a few more weeks couldn’t hurt. Let’s see how you are then.”
It was all she could do not to start screaming again, only this nightmare was real. She was never getting out of here.
She looked down and blinked away tears of fury. He put his hand on her shoulder. He had no idea how much she wanted to grab that hand and break every bone in it.
“Patience. You’re doing well at your in-patient job here. That will look good to the board. You’ve made such miraculous improvements while here that we want to make sure there is no backsliding. You’re our prized case.”
One irony after another, Violet thought. She’d done such a good acting job that now she was their p
rized case and they were afraid that she would embarrass them. Just great.
“What’s a few more weeks?”
Was the man insane?
She said nothing, couldn’t have spoken a word. No, if she had tried, she would have howled, and he would have seen a side of her that would have struck fear to his very core and put those stupid thug orderlies on her again.
Part of her wished she could have let her fury fly, just let it loose on him, just to see the expression on his face.
A few more weeks.
As she lay back down and closed her eyes, Violet knew she couldn’t stay here any longer. She’d been paying attention to deliveries, even flirted with one of the older drivers a few times.
She wouldn’t be staying a few more weeks. She wouldn’t even be staying a few more days.
That girl is a cunning little thing, Arlene, the way she always manages to get her way.
“Yes, Grandmother,” Violet whispered and smiled as the doctor and orderlies closed the door behind them. “Aren’t I, though?”
HER NAME IS DELORES Gonzales formerly of Mexicali, Mexico.
“An illegal?” Hank asked as he paced the floor. He’d been pacing ever since he’d dropped Arlene off at her house and returned home. Time was running out. Once Charlotte had her baby…
“Was illegal, but her employer, Meredith Foster, helped her get American citizenship.”
Hank let out a low whistle. Delores would be indebted to Meredith in a big way. She would probably do anything her employer asked of her—even keep a pregnant girl prisoner.
He thought about what Meredith had said about Delores having a family emergency.
“Any family in the States?”
“An older sister. She is applying for citizenship through the Fosters, as well, and is also employed by the Fosters. Juanita Gonzales Mendez. Husband Juan deceased.”
Hank swore under his breath. “Do you have an address?”
“Both are listed at the Foster residence.”
He remembered the red minivan he’d seen parked in front of the Foster house. “What do they drive?”
“Delores Gonzales drives a minivan.” He read off the make, model and plate number. It was new and expensive. Meredith either paid her well or provided the ride. “The other doesn’t have a license. Nor a car listed in her name.”
“Thanks. I owe you.”
“Yeah, you do.” The man dropped his voice to a whisper. “It hasn’t escaped anyone that you’ve been getting inside assistance. Thought I should warn you.”
“Thanks.” Hank hung up as he heard the sound of a motorcycle coming up the drive. He walked out to the porch as the rider dismounted and came toward him. “Lucas Bronson, right?”
The young man was tall and lean, clad all in black leather except for the red bandanna tied around his head. No helmet. Kids his age didn’t believe they were mortal. Hank remembered that age well. Hell, he still thought he was immortal at times.
Lucas stopped at the bottom of the porch steps to narrow his eyes at Hank. “Arlene said you’re trying to find Charlotte.”
“What do you want to know?” Hank asked.
“I want to know where Charlotte is,” Lucas snapped. “I want to help find her.” There was a strained passion in the young man’s voice that Hank felt.
“Come on in, then,” he said and turned and walked back into the house.
Lucas came in like a dog that’s been beaten for coming in the house.
“Have a seat,” Hank told him. Bitsy used to say he felt more at home with homeless people than with polite society. He smiled at the memory because it was true.
Lucas eyed the leather furniture for a moment.
“Sit. Tea or a soft drink?”
“You got a cola?”
Hank came back with a cold cola from the fridge. Lucas was perched on the edge of one of the leather chairs. Hank handed him the pop and dropped into a chair across from him to keep from pacing.
“So what did you find out about the old guy?” Lucas asked.
Hank smiled, knowing the “old guy” Lucas was referring to was John Foster, who was a good ten years younger than himself. A part of him wanted to challenge the punk kid to an arm-wrestling match just to show him what a really “old guy” could do. But that was such an “old guy” thing to do.
“John Foster?” he asked instead.
Lucas nodded.
Hank filled him in on what they knew. “You have any ideas?”
Lucas shook his head, worry in his expression. “She could be having the baby right now.” He met Hank’s gaze. “I’m the father. She didn’t run around with other guys. She never has. I know she’s done some things she shouldn’t have, but she’s a good kid. I love her and I’m going to marry her.”
“That’s just it, Lucas—she’s a kid. And now that kid is about to have a baby. You’re still a kid yourself. How do you plan to support her and yourself, let alone a baby?”
“I’ve got some ideas.”
“Any of them include an education? Maybe an occupation?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, Charlotte wants to go to college. She just didn’t think Arlene could afford it with her old man splitting like he did.”
“Arlene can afford it,” Hank said confidently.
“But she said Charlotte’s never had any interest in going. Charlotte barely finished high school.”
“Yeah, well, maybe she’s changed. She wants the best for her baby,” Lucas said. “That’s why she was thinking about giving it up like her mother wanted her to.”
“But you plan to talk her out of that,” Hank reminded him.
Lucas shrugged and swigged down some of the cola. “I want the best for my kid, too. I don’t want him having a family like mine.”
“Him?”
“Yeah, didn’t Charlotte tell Arlene? The baby’s a boy.”
AFTER HANK LEFT, Arlene started up the porch steps, but then she heard Bo’s stereo and wasn’t in the mood to fight with him, so she walked back into the trees behind the house. She could hear the phone if it rang. Floyd had had a bell put in so he could hear the phone when he was working in the barn.
She didn’t have to ask Bo to know that he’d made no effort to get a job. Or move out. She’d have to pack his things, leave them on the porch, have the locks on the house changed. How did other parents handle it when their grown children returned home and refused to leave?
She had no idea. All she knew was that she had to put him out. It was the only way he would ever become a responsible adult. Things couldn’t keep going the way they were.
It was easier to worry about Bo than Charlotte. Just the thought of her youngest daughter was like a toothache that just kept getting worse until she didn’t think she could stand the pain any longer.
Earlier, she’d called Bo on her way home. He’d said there hadn’t been any more calls from Charlotte. No more mail either.
She sat down on the old picnic table under the big cottonwoods. She needed to be alone. To think.
It was hard not to panic. If Lucas was right, then Charlotte was nine months pregnant. Her first baby could come late. Maybe there was time.
Or maybe Meredith Foster would get antsy, especially now that she knew they were onto her.
Arlene wouldn’t let herself think about what Meredith might do now. Her only hope was that a woman like Meredith was so used to things going her way she wouldn’t panic and do anything stupid.
But where did she have Charlotte hidden?
She had abducted a very pregnant woman. She wouldn’t have been able to drug her for fear of hurting the baby. So what had she done? Tied her up? Held her at gunpoint?
It was a three-hour drive from Whitehorse to Billings. How could Meredith try to make Charlotte as comfortable as possible—and yet at the same time keep her from getting away?
She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Hank’s number. She needed to hear his voice. But she also had a feeling so strong she couldn’t ignore it a
ny longer.
“I have a theory,” she said the moment he answered. She spelled it out for him.
“I was just getting ready to call you. Delores Gonzales was an illegal. Meredith helped her get her U.S. citizenship. She also helped Delores’s older sister, Juanita. I think Meredith has them taking care of Charlotte.”
Arlene grasped onto the news, telling herself at least someone was with Charlotte, taking care of her. “Charlotte isn’t down by Billings. She’s up here somewhere. Maybe close by. I feel it, Hank. Isn’t there some way to find out where? You asked about GPS on Meredith’s phone….”
“That only works if there is service in that area,” he said. “But we tried another way. You know how parents can tell if their kid is where he said he was going to be via computer and the kid’s phone? It didn’t tell us where Meredith is. But by expanding the area outside of Billings, it did tell us where she isn’t.”
Arlene felt her throat choke off, her eyes filling with tears. “She’s up here, isn’t she?”
“It appears that way,” Hank said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t feel better here with me?”
She wanted nothing more than to be in his arms right now. “No, I need to stay here.” In case Charlotte showed up. She knew it was crazy. But if Charlotte managed to get away…
JOHN FOSTER COULDN’T sit still. He’d tried to reach his wife, but she had her cell phone turned off. He’d left messages. She hadn’t returned his calls.
He wanted to kill her, feared he would if she came in the door right now. How could she do something like this? Was she crazy?
The periodic unexplained disappearances. Delores leaving so abruptly. Juanita already gone somewhere. Meredith’s supposed risky pregnancy. The way she’d moved into the spare bedroom almost at once and kept him at arm’s length.
He’d been relieved. He hadn’t wanted to have sex with her anyway. But she wasn’t even pregnant. Just like the first time.
