“Sure. Just give me a few moments to clean everything up. I wouldn’t want paper plates and napkins flying through the air, into the water, once we take off.”
“Of course, I do not wish to get a ticket out here for littering.”
Damn it, damn it, damn it! Double and triple damn it! I could have played it dumb, let the paper products fly, and gotten him pulled over for a ticket. Honestly, if I see a Coast Guard boat in the next five minutes, I’m going to break right down and cry.
He reentered the correct tributary and started following along the same side of the shore that we lived on. We traveled underneath the railroad bridge, and my grandparent’s trailer came into view.
I suddenly had a very hard time catching my breath. My grandmother was on the porch, cranking open the three large umbrellas that would bring the deck some shade. My grandfather stood on the end of the floating dock, with a couple of other people from the marina, fishing.
I kept stealing glances at Asshole, looking for any sign that he knew what was going on. I kept waiting for him to threaten me in some way, to threaten my family if I uttered a word. But he didn’t. He’d glanced at the trio of men fishing, but never said a word or made a face. His expression gave nothing away. I had no other option but to accept that it was Asshole’s sheer dumb luck that had brought us here. The idiot didn’t have a clue.
I wanted to wave, to stand up and yell, ‘Here I am,’ to start hysterically screaming for help. I wanted to do something, anything. But he could shoot me before I had time to jump in the water, or hit the throttle and take off before I even stood up. I was getting a little sick and tired of seeing people I knew and not being able to do anything about it.
If I got away at the cost of someone else’s life, I’d never forgive myself.
We continued on, passing under the first bridge, and nearing the tip of the half-mile wide, two miles long, island. And as we approached the end of the island, there between the island’s tip and the interstate bridge, I saw my family’s boat. My heart started pounding in my ears. My aunt, uncle, three of my cousins, my once boyfriend, and a couple friends from the marina, were water skiing. The world stopped turning, time was held in near suspension, and each second began to feel like a full minute.
My uncle whipped the boat around and Jared lost hold of the handle, all but doing a summersault across the surface of the water. The group laughed at the shout Jared let out once he’d landed in the water and resurfaced. He swam to retrieve the skies as my uncle drove around to pick him up. My cousin Keith reached down into the water to haul Jared back into the boat as my younger cousin, Evan, jumped into the water for a turn on the skies.
On one hand, it actually hurt to see them having fun after my disappearance. But on the other hand, life went on, and I was glad that they had managed. Another stab of pain hit when I realized that I hadn’t seen any evidence of my parents being anywhere around. They weren’t out having fun. But oddly, I was comforted by that… Until I realized that in my bid to get this bunghole caught, I was extending their suffering right along with my own. I guessed the old saying was true, no good deed ever went unpunished.
Jared gave my oldest cousin a high-five. It was nice to see that Keith didn’t have to lose his best friend over this whole mess. He’d actually been the one to introduce Jared to me, and once we’d started dating two years ago… three years ago now, my cousin had warned me not to mess things up for the friendship between him and his buddy.
I stole a glance at Asshole, he kept glancing over at the water skiers, but he showed no hint of recognition. No rueful smile, no holding of the breath or cringing, no white knuckles gripping the wheel, nothing. He wasn’t recognizing anyone, had he watched any of the news broadcasts right after I’d gone missing? Would he have recognized my parents if they had been down this weekend?
I looked back over to the other boat again, letting my eyes drink in the sight of them. My cousin Sierra was eleven now, and she’d really sprouted up, taller and… rounder in places. My only female cousin was growing up, and I was missing it.
And my aunt, half her face hidden behind enormous sunglasses that were made to fit over her eyeglasses, was paying little attention to the group of people around her, she kept looking out at the water around her. I had thought she was merely acting as the look-out, the one who would alert the driver as to when the skier had fallen and it was time to go retrieve them. But her eyes kept scanning from one boat to another, from one shore to another. It was like… it was like she was looking… searching… for me.
She was quietly keeping an eye out. Her gaze was going to land on this boat again, I knew it would. They had been told about the girl in the store who’d left her fingerprints behind. Everything in my existence seemed to swirl around and focus on this one moment in time.
My head grew dizzy as I realized that this was my chance, my one chance to stir up law enforcement interest again.
I couldn’t do anything blatant, but I could get a signal to her. I could turn, as if watching the water skiing as we completed our pass and continued on out of sight. My back would then be turned to Asshole. But, it was going to have to appear to be blatant to her. Something she would recognize…
This time, luck was on my side. Asshole kept up with his slow, steady pace. My cousin was up on the skies, and my uncle made a wide, sweeping circle around the area. He was taking it easy on my younger, less experienced in water sports, cousin. His arching circle was going to pass us, just as the wake from another boat was about to intercept my cousin’s path. I stood up, clutching the side windshield with one hand, as if I was transfixed with watching the kid on skies jump the small wave.
My movement caught my aunt’s attention. And then I gestured with the same move I’d seen her make at my uncle whenever he was acting like a smart-ass. I used my extended middle finger, on the bridge of my sunglasses, to push them up higher on my face. Then I drug my middle finger down my nose, just to drive my point home. She froze and gripped the back of her seat. And then I held my hand in front of my chest, palm-out and fingers spread, in a silent, motionless wave. Then, in a bid to get her to realize that it wasn’t safe to make a scene, I turned around and sat back down in my passenger’s seat, my eyes focused straight ahead.
“Does that look like something you might want to try someday?” he yelled over the sound of the engine and the force of the wind.
I nodded, “I think I might urinate in my bathing suit the first time or two-”
He started laughing.
“-but I’d be willing to give it a try.”
Truth be told, as much as I loved going out on the boat, and was willing to ride an inner tube behind a tame driver, I’d never been talked into water skiing. I’d never wanted to feel that out of control. But after everything I’d been through, water skiing now seemed like it would be a cinch. Bring it on.
“Feel like a little car ride?” he asked as the house came into view.
“Sure,” I answered with interest.
“I’ll just take you with me to return the boat. Then we can both ride back in the car.”
“Okay.”
I suspected that he just didn’t want to have to dock the boat twice, instead of just one more time.
He awkwardly brought the small craft into its slip back at the rental place. I took mercy on him and snagged the lines for him to grab and tie the boat off with. Two attendants rushed up to the boat slip and corrected his knot work.
I made sure everything was back in the cooler and its carry-all compartment. Asshole handed it up to one of the attendants, who took it and put it on the pier. The other attendant held out a hand for me to grab a hold of, to keep me steady as I exited the boat. I met his eyes, but didn’t reach for his hand. That would be a no-no. No way would I be allowed to touch another man, no matter how innocently.
I turned and looked at Asshole. He’d been watching, and now looked pleased as he got off the boat and extended his own hand down to me. I took hold of his hand
and let him pull me up. The tide had gone out and the step up to the pier was large.
Asshole picked up the cooler and headed for the office. One attendant hopped onto the boat and unstowed the canvas, proceeding to snap it on to protect the interior of the boat. The other attendant glanced back at me, then headed further down the pier to another boat that was headed in.
“Did everything go all right?” the man at the desk asked.
“Yes, thank you. We may have to come back and do this again,” Asshole answered.
“What about you?” the employee asked me with a smile. “Your husband was worried that you may not like being on a boat as much as you liked the idea of it.”
I repositioned my sunglasses to rest on top of my head and returned his smile, “I had a wonderful time, thank you.”
“All right,” the employee said as he finished up the paperwork on the transaction, “Seth… err, Mr. Murray it was a pleasure doing business with you. We hope to see you again.”
“Thank you,” ‘Sam’-turned-‘Seth’ said, and shook the guy’s hand.
We walked out of the office and up to the car. Asshole wasn’t even sure enough of himself yet to use just a single alias. It made me wonder what name he worked under. No wonder he spent so much time up in his lair, it must take hours to keep all the paperwork straight on so many identities.
The fact that he continued to weave his identity web, when he was supposedly trying to settle down, bothered me. Was he really so arrogant as to think that the threads of interactions he was creating would never collide? That someone who knew him as ‘Sam’ would never see him and address him when he was trying to be ‘Seth’, or vice-versa?
And while I was on this train of thought as Asshole drove home, the police would be looking for ‘Sam’. If my aunt could describe the boat, and they tracked it to the rental place, all they would find was ‘Seth Murray’. But if they showed the staff my picture, and the whole not accepting the hand thing, or my stiff, proper response to the desk man made enough of an impression, they might be able to positively ID me and verify that I was there. All was not hopeless. The police would then know about his multiple identities and realize that he might be harder to track down than they thought.
He shot me a satisfied grin as we entered back into the house. “I’m very pleased with the way you handled yourself today.”
I matched his expression, “Thank you.”
And it became stunningly clear just what he was doing with this little boat trip. He was giving me just enough leash to either prove myself, or to hang myself, with. Now, more than at any other time, it was absolutely imperative that my behavior remain perfect. For if I didn’t, he would take me out of here and on to someplace else, having left such a tangled web of names and paper trails behind that they’d never catch him.
But, if I continued to behave myself, he was going to start taking me out with him, he was going to start letting me go outside more often. It was coming. And at some point, some opportunity would arise. It was going to happen. I just had to wait for it. My day was coming.
And I’d just keep telling myself this over and over, until it the day finally came.
The Coast Guard started making their frequent passes again the next morning.
Chapter Ten
Bad News
On Monday evening we sat down to a roast beef dinner out on the porch. He’d been regarding me quietly ever since he’d gotten home, but had been keeping his thoughts to himself.
It was creepy. He just kept looking at me without any expression. I didn’t know what the hell was going on. I didn’t know if it was a good thing, or the calm before a storm. I liked him better when he was predictable, and that was beginning to happen less and less as the months spent living here wore on. I finally took a bite, sat back, and started returning his gaze, waiting for him to break the silence.
The expression on his face was grim. “I have some bad news.”
I looked down and continued to chew my food. I tried to let it look like I was gearing myself up to hear his news, but I didn’t let his announcement throw me. Measuring what is good news versus bad, by his yardstick, was inaccurate at best.
“The company I work for is sending me on a business trip.”
I looked back up at him with a startled expression. “A business trip, what sort of a business trip?”
“They’re sending me for training on some new software that the company wants to incorporate.”
“Just for the day, right?” I was back to walking on the tightrope between appearing to miss him every second he was away, and not questioning the integrity of his job and responsibilities.
“No, Mia, I have to leave early Thursday morning and I won’t be back until Saturday night.”
I layered distress into my features, “What? Why?”
“The company has buildings all across the country. They’re gathering everyone in my position, and a few others, all in one place and holding trainings as well as department meetings. That’s all going to take a couple days. In fact, the only free time I’ll have will be Friday evening and Saturday morning while waiting for the plane.”
I scrubbed my hands over my face, and then crossed my arms over myself in a protective gesture. I kept my gaze downward, then finally closed my eyes and took a deep breath, “Okay.”
He shook his head, “I’m not looking forward to this. If I didn’t have to share the hotel room with another employee, I’d take you with me. And I can’t say that I’m all that fond of flying, either.”
“You’re going far enough away that they’re flying you there?” I threw in a nice little voice crack for his benefit.
He sighed, “I know. I don’t like it one bit. If I could get out of it, I would. I’ve spent the last week trying to figure a way out of going, but if I want to keep this job so we can afford to stay here…”
I threw up a hand to stop his explanation and switched to massaging my temples. “Fine, it’s fine,” I said with my head down. “If I can survive seventeen years without you in my life, I can survive three days.”
“I’ll bring you back a present, a really good one, I promise.”
I spent the next two days plotting. Three days! Three whole days without him here to stop me from doing anything. This was it. This was the chance I’d been waiting for. I was going to get the hell outta Dodge and be home with my family for the weekend! While I didn’t want to get myself all excited before it actually happened, I couldn’t help it. I was every bit as excited as a kid waiting those last few days before Christmas.
Getting out of here was all I could think about, it consumed all of my thoughts. I knew he was still looking for a way to get out of it, I knew there was a chance that he’d find some sort of loophole and end up not going. But if that happened, I was convinced that I was going to have to find a way to kill him before Saturday. It’s not like I was plotting his murder, not really. But I was getting really tired of chasing the carrot and not getting a chance to eat it.
Tuesday morning, at the breakfast table, I told him, “I need a project to keep me busy while you’re gone, something to take my mind off being alone for so long.”
He raised an eyebrow, “What did you have in mind?”
“I’d like to work on that spare bedroom closet. That should keep me busy and active for fair amount of the time.”
“Hmmm,” he said with indrawn lips. “I have printed out the pictures of the closet systems that I think will work, with their product lists. I’ll go upstairs and get them for you before I leave this morning.”
I smiled at him, “Thank you. I’ll have a materials list for you this evening.”
He hadn’t looked too pleased with the idea, but he must not have been able to come up with anything better because he never verbally expressed his displeasure. He probably only agreed so that I’d be too busy to do anything stupid while he was gone, like try to run away again.
True to his word, before he left for work he handed me the printouts
as I walked him to the door.
“Make sure your list is thorough,” he warned, “you won’t be able to work on it for long if you forget something.”
I nodded in agreement, “Understood.”
As soon as the door shut behind him, I headed upstairs to complete my list. I re-measured the closet, and drew up a new plan using pieces made by the company I liked the most from the choices he had given me. I made a tool list, and a random supply list. I even picked a neutral color for the paint. I was on it, man. I gave it serious thought and effort, and spent the entire morning in that closet. I was a woman with a mission and an urge to pass the time.
At lunchtime I made a salad for myself. I also poured a nice, big glass of lemonade to go along with my lunch. When I opened the freezer to retrieve some ice cubes for the lemonade, I grabbed a steak along with them and kept myself positioned away from the camera. When I went into the pantry, where the cameras couldn’t see, I unwrapped the steak. Then I shoved it into an airtight bag, dumped some marinade in with it, and stuffed it behind some bags of noodles. Then I grabbed the croutons and brought them out to put some on my salad. I put the croutons back, grabbed a paper towel and cleaned up the small mess from my salad preparation, and then threw the scrunched up paper towel - that happened to contain the plastic wrap from the steak - into the trash.
I spent the afternoon sitting at my desk, pretending to do some school work. And when that Coast Guard boat drove on by, I looked straight out the window and smiled.
Later that afternoon he walked back through the door, right on time, “So, how did your day of planning go?”
“Excellent! I think I have everything covered.” I handed him my new plan for the closet, along with the materials list.
He sighed as he read over them. I could tell his eyes were lingering over the list of tools that I would need. But I’d even had the foresight to list the tasks required by each tool, so that he’d have no reason to question me.
Lulling the Kidnapper Page 12
