Thread of Hope jt-1

by Jeff Shelby

  Stricker quickly moved the gun back to me. “Is there somewhere else to go now?”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “Gotta take care of this, Tyler,” he said, a resigned expression on his face. “As soon as you found out your friend was okay, you should’ve walked.”

  “I won’t let you hurt her,” I said.

  “I’ve got the gun, Tyler.”

  “You’re not gonna hurt her.”

  He seemed amused by my defiance. “Are you blind?”

  “No. But you aren’t gonna hurt her. You’ve done enough of that.”

  The amusement in his expression faded. “Oh, God. Please don’t give me some fucking speech, alright? These girls, they know what they’re doing. They aren’t innocent.”

  “Either are you,” I said. “And you’re gonna have to kill me if you want her.”

  Meredith’s hands were like claws in my stomach. My arm was still around her shoulders and her face was buried in my shirt, unable to look at Stricker. I could hear Megan breathing behind me to my right. I didn’t look at Kelly because I was afraid of what I was going to see.

  “Not a problem, Tyler,” Stricker said and he aimed the gun at my throat.

  Another explosion roared through the room and I jerked. Meredith pushed harder into me and we toppled to the ground. I lay there for a moment, my ears ringing, unsure of what had happened. Then I sat up.

  Stricker was on his back, his face a bloody mess. The lower half of his face was gone, the area where his mouth had been now one large vacant space. The gun had fallen from his grip and his body was twitching, as if someone was tickling him. I popped to my knees, crawled over and grabbed the gun, then looked back at Megan.

  She was holding a gun with both hands, her eyes still on Stricker. The gun was shaking.

  I stood and walked over to her, carefully taking the gun from her. Her eyes were still locked on Stricker.

  “Megan?” I said and my voice sounded quiet after the two gunshots.

  “It’s my dad’s,” she finally said, her words slurred, heavy. “I brought it in case…” She looked at me. Her eyes were glazed over, staring through me. “In case you wouldn’t help Meredith.” Her eyes focused and she finally looked at me. “In case I had to shoot you.”

  SEVENTY-NINE

  The small narrow street was now packed with police officers, fire trucks and curious eyes.

  “You should’ve called me,” Mike Lorenzo said.

  We were standing off to the side of the Jordan’s buy-in home. Lieutenant Bazer was in the middle of the yard, directing his officers. He glanced at me, then looked away.

  “I didn’t know what I was walking into, Mike,” I said. “Otherwise, I would’ve.”

  That was the truth. I had learned early that it was better to let the local police handle things when the time was right. I wasn’t looking to showboat or steal anyone’s spotlight. If I’d known Meredith was inside, that Stricker was a piece of crap and that Megan was armed, I most definitely would’ve called Mike.

  But sometimes you don’t know.

  Mike rubbed at his jaw. “You alright?”

  I nodded. “Fine. Did you call Jordan?”

  “Yeah, he should be here soon,” Mike said. “Didn’t tell him everything that happened, just that his kid was safe.”

  Mike’s colleagues had Meredith and Megan separated, talking to them individually. As long as they told the truth, they would be fine.

  EMTs spilled out of the house, Kelly Rundles on a gurney. She was moving, alert. She would be fine.

  “It was absolutely self-defense, Mike,” I said. “That girl probably saved my life.”

  Mike looked over to where Megan was talking to another officer. “I’ll make sure she’s alright.”

  There was movement amongst the gawkers in the street. Jon and Olivia Jordan emerged from the middle of the pack, their heads twisting and turning, eyes wide. Jon saw Meredith first and broke into a sprint toward her. One cop attempted to grab his arm, but Jordan shook him off, missile-locked on his daughter.

  Meredith saw him and her body shook as she began sobbing. Jordan slowed as he approached, like she was a deer and he didn’t want to scare her away. Meredith’s chin sunk and her body shook harder. Jordan stepped in and swallowed her with his arms and they shook together.

  Olivia was slower in getting to them and when she did, she seemed unsure of what to do. She put a hand on her husband’s shoulder and another on her daughter’s. Her eyes scanned the crowd until they settled on me.

  She gave a slight nod in my direction and I had no idea what it meant nor did I have any any desire to ask her.

  Jordan never took his eyes off his daughter. I imagined that it would be hard for him to ever let her out of his sight again.

  I was envious.

  “If you wanna get out of here, go ahead,” Mike said and I knew he was reading my thoughts.

  “Thanks.”

  He walked with me away from the crowd and guided me toward his car. “Hang on a sec.” He opened the door and pulled out a thin envelope.

  He handed it to me. “This was what I was gonna give you at breakfast tomorrow.”

  I took the envelope and flipped it over in my hands a couple of times.

  “It’s probably nothing,” Mike cautioned. “But it’s something I’d take a look at. Since you’re here, I figured I’d just pass it along.”

  I knew by his tone and demeanor we were no longer talking about Meredith Jordan and the subject was Elizabeth.

  I stared at the envelope. “Okay.”

  “Like I said, it’s probably nothing,” Mike said again. “But it’s the kind of thing that I’ve been looking at over the last few years when it rolls in. You can take a look, see what you think.”

  I folded the envelope and stuck it in my pocket. “Thanks, Mike. For everything.”

  “That sounds like a goodbye,” Mike said with a raised eyebrow.

  I nodded at Meredith and her parents. “We found her. Chuck’s clear and he’s gonna be alright. I think I’m done.”

  “You gonna be alright?” he asked.

  I offered him my hand and we shook.

  “I hope so,” I said.

  EIGHTY

  I was buying a bagel the next morning when my phone chirped. I scooped the bagel off the counter and answered it, looking for a napkin.

  “Hey,” Lauren said on the other end.

  A pain shot through my stomach and it had nothing to do with hunger. “Hey.”

  “How are you?”

  “I’m okay. What’s going on?”

  “I was going to see…” Her voice trailed off. She cleared her throat. “I wanted to see if you had time for lunch today.”

  I stared at the untouched bagel, then dumped it in the trash can, knowing I wouldn’t be hungry when our conversation was over. “I can’t, Lauren.”

  “Are you still looking for the girl?”

  “No, we found her.”

  “Was she alright?”

  I gave her a sanitized version of finding Meredith.

  “I’m glad you found her,” she said when I finished.

  “Wasn’t really me. Her friend took me right to her.”

  “But you kept pushing,” Lauren said. “You kept pushing.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Lauren finally said after a few moments of silence.

  “Yeah, I am.”

  She sighed into the phone. “I should’ve known.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize,” she said, her voice tinny, strained. “It’s alright. There were no promises.”

  “The other night,” I said, trying to find words that wouldn’t sound cliched or forced. “I’m glad we had the other night.”

  “Me too,” she said, but I couldn’t tell if she meant it.

  “I really do miss you, Lauren,” I said. “I don’t know if you believe that, but I do. Miss you.”

  S
he coughed and cleared her throat and I pictured her pacing in the house, the phone pressed to her ear. “Where are you going?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. It was the truth.

  She sighed again. “Joe, I can hear the announcements in the background. I know you’re at the airport.”

  The terminal was thick with travelers, luggage and chaos. The lines were long at the counters and the voice in the loudspeaker was saying something about a delayed flight.

  I stepped out through the sliding doors into the cool morning air, the sun shining brightly across PCH on the harbor.

  “I don’t know where I’m going,” I repeated. “Honestly, Lauren. I just need to go.”

  There was a long pause on her end and for a moment, I thought she’d hung up.

  “Will you let me know where you end up?” she finally asked. “Just send me an email, a text or something? So I know you’re okay?”

  “I will,” I said. “I promise.”

  “And think about coming back,” she said. “Not long term. But maybe for a long weekend. Or maybe I could meet you somewhere. No strings.”

  “I love you, Lauren,” I said, squinting into the sunlight. “I’ll call you.”

  She hung up without saying anything.

  I shoved the phone into my pocket, the hunger from before replaced with something that I couldn’t define, just something that hurt.

  I thought about doing the goodbye thing. Find Lauren, find Chuck, find Gina, find everyone I’d connected with over the previous few days and say goodbye. But I knew that I’d be tempted to stay, to think that I could overcome the past that punched me in the face every day I woke up in San Diego.

  I knew better and drove myself straight to the airport before I changed my mind, turned in my rental car and strapped on my backpack.

  The envelope Mike had given me was folded up in the pocket of my jeans and I pulled it out. I hadn’t opened it. When I’d gotten back to the hotel, I’d stared at it for a few minutes before deciding that I needed sleep before confronting whatever it held.

  I knew that whatever was inside probably wouldn’t lead to finding Elizabeth. But there was always that microscopic chance that it would. I’d spent the previous years jumping at just those chances. Following up on them was the only thing that got me to sleep at night, knowing that I wasn’t leaving anything to chance.

  Meredith was back home. She’d been found. Seeing her with Jordan reminded me of how much I wanted to be that father, the father reunited with his daughter.

  When Lauren asked me where I was headed, I hadn’t lied to her. I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t know where I was going, only that wherever I went, I’d go back to thinking about Elizabeth.

  I unfolded the envelope, fingered the dull creases in it.

  I slid my finger carefully under the flap and unsealed it. I pulled out a folded-over photo with a note attached to it.

  Found this in a file. You'd know better than I would, but it was close enough to pass on to you. I'd have followed it myself if you hadn't come to town. Let me know if I can help. ML.

  That was followed by the name Jacob Detwiler and a Minneapolis address.

  I removed the note from the photo and unfolded the picture.

  Two young girls, maybe ten years old, sitting on what looked to me like a bus bench. There was snow on the ground and both girls wore hooded sweatshirts and jeans. They sat close together, their faces devoid of expression. Their arms were linked.

  I folded the picture with trembling fingers. The floor swayed a bit and I had trouble breathing as I looked for a place to sit. An icy sweat formed on my neck. I knew better than to get my hopes up. I had learned the hard way. But sometimes things showed up that couldn't prevent it, couldn't save me from the heartache.

  I sat down and tried to catch my breath, wondering how fast I could get to Minneapolis.

  I unfolded the picture again.

  The photo was grainy, out of focus and shadowy, probably taken around dusk. But I knew Elizabeth's face.

  And for the first time in forever, she was staring back at me.

  FB2 document info

  Document ID: fbd-9cee28-5d82-db41-7d96-02b3-6f11-34c03f

  Document version: 1

  Document creation date: 19.01.2013

  Created using: calibre 0.9.13, Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6 software

  Document authors :

  Shelby, Jeff

  About

  This file was generated by Lord KiRon's FB2EPUB converter version 1.1.5.0.

  (This book might contain copyrighted material, author of the converter bears no responsibility for it's usage)

  Этот файл создан при помощи конвертера FB2EPUB версии 1.1.5.0 написанного Lord KiRon.

  (Эта книга может содержать материал который защищен авторским правом, автор конвертера не несет ответственности за его использование)

  http://www.fb2epub.net

  https://code.google.com/p/fb2epub/