An Everyday Hero

by Laura Trentham

  * * *

  Sun poured onto the bed, and Greer stretched under the covers, bolting upright when she realized she was alone and Emmett’s prosthetic was gone from where it had guarded her guitar as promised. She listened but heard nothing coming from the other room.

  Grabbing up her clothes, she hightailed it into the bathroom and grimaced at her bedhead and the circles under her eyes. Late nights used to not sap her energy like this. A blush kindled and spread like her body was dry tinder. Her exhaustion might have more to do with the life-affirming sex that had kept them up until the wee hours.

  Dressing in her clothes from the night before, she made a note to at least stash some clean panties in one of his drawers. No sign of Emmett in the cabin and his truck was gone. She was alone.

  She banished the ghosts of insecurities taking shape and wandered into the kitchen in search of coffee before she slunk home to her parents. Even though she and her mother had come to an understanding, it was still going to be weird to look her in the eye and know that she knew where Greer had been and could take a good guess at what she’d been doing. Or who she’d been doing.

  The coffee in the pot was still hot and a note with her name on it sat propped on a mug.

  Sorry to leave you, but I promised to help my dad.

  Hang out as long as you want.

  Lunch later?

  E

  She dropped the paper, poured a cup of coffee, and padded barefoot to the porch. Lounging in a patch of sun, Bonnie lifted her head and gave her a sleepy blink. Her food and water dishes were full.

  The cabin was peaceful, starkly different from her last grungy apartment in Nashville. The sounds of nature drifted on the breeze, musical in their own way. She leaned against the porch post and let the sun dance behind her closed eyes. As a kid, she’d lie out in the yard and pretend the sun sparks were cameras going off after she’d killed it onstage.

  She smiled, picturing her younger self and the innocence of her dreams. No pang of sadness or regret marred the memory. Her priorities had shifted from fanciful to concrete. Now that she’d gotten a taste of helping people, she was addicted.

  Her path forward had become clear and wide open. She would work her schedule so she could still volunteer at the Music Tree Foundation a few hours a week, and she could continue to write music and play at Becky’s while she earned her degree.

  The only worry marring her contentment was Ally. Maybe by the time they met again, Greer would have had a revelation. But for now, she had her own personal revelation to meet for lunch.

  Chapter 19

  By the time Tuesday rolled around, Greer was a mass of excitement and nerves. Thankfully, the Music Tree Foundation had become a comfortable place. She exchanged greetings and chitchat about the streak of unusually hot days with another volunteer before making her way to Amelia’s office.

  Amelia looked up when she walked in, a question in the wrinkled set of her brow. “Have you made a decision about continuing?”

  “Yeah. I want to keep volunteering if you’re willing to schedule around my classes, but I’m committed to making it work. Surprised?”

  “A little. You’ve never struck me as the sort to settle down or commit to anything.”

  Greer’s pursuit of music had been inherently selfish and for a long time, the music had been enough for her. It was only now that she’d formed connections that she understood what had been missing.

  She shrugged. “Things change. People grow up. It took me a little longer than some.”

  “Would this have anything to do with Emmett Lawson? A little birdie told me you and he looked pretty cozy at Becky’s this weekend.” A tease made Amelia’s eyes sparkle, and Greer realized with a start that Amelia had turned into an honest-to-goodness friend.

  “I suppose I should thank you for your personal cowardice in sending me out to help him.” Greer ended her eye roll by giving Amelia a smile.

  “Ha! I knew it.” Her mouth tightened but her voice retained a lightheartedness. “The man is wild. He nearly shot at you, for goodness sake, which makes him the perfect kind of crazy for you.”

  “He’s definitely my kind of crazy.” Greer bit the inside of her mouth. “I wasn’t too enthusiastic when Uncle Bill assigned me hours here.”

  “Yeah, I noticed,” Amelia said dryly.

  “Volunteering here has been … life-changing.” It sounded melodramatic and trite, but it was the truth. “So, you know, thanks.” She mumbled the last, the burn in her face signaling her extreme embarrassment.

  Amelia’s voice grew softer. “People don’t understand that the volunteer gets as much out of it as the client. There’s a happiness to be found helping others. I’m lucky to have found my calling early.”

  Emotion ripened in the room. Greer blinked back tears. It was too much. She had to pull herself together before she met with Ally. “God, no wonder Uncle Bill likes you more.”

  A laugh burst out of Amelia. “My killer potato salad won him over.”

  “He is a potato salad connoisseur.” Greer glanced at the clock and stuck her head out the door to check the hallway. Ally should have come in by now.

  “What’s wrong?” Amelia asked.

  “Ally’s late.” Greer checked their usual room in case Ally had somehow slipped by. It was empty. Dread crept up her spine like a tour group stampeding across her grave.

  Greer paced while she waited. Teenagers possessed an unreliable internal clock. Ally had likely gotten distracted and didn’t realize the time. Thirty minutes passed. The cement block walls pressed in on her, and she retreated to wait outside. Heat wavered off the black tarmac of the streets. The few people out scurried from car to building and back again without lingering in the scalding sun.

  Greer paced in the shade of a tree. What if Ally had been kidnapped or was lying in a ditch somewhere? Despite the heat, a chill raised goose bumps on her arms. She was overreacting. How many people actually ended up in a ditch? Probably not enough to register statistically on a list of things that could happen to wayward teenagers.

  Greer had been a wayward teenager once. Thinking she was following in the footsteps of great musicians, she’d smoked cigarettes and pot and made poor decisions. She’d been dumb, but Ally was smart.

  Except she had shoplifted and gotten caught. She hadn’t done it selfishly or to rebel, but to do something nice for her mother. Moving to the parking lot, Greer tossed her purse into the passenger seat, slid into the oven of her car, and headed toward Ally’s house.

  After a wrong turn sent her down a street that had her locking the doors, she found Ally’s duplex and parked at the curb. A knock on the door yielded no response. She sidled behind an overgrown bush, its twigs tangling in her hair, cupped her hands, and looked through the window. The interior was dim, with no signs of life.

  What now? Why hadn’t she ever thought to get Ally’s number?

  Pulling out her phone, she texted Amelia and asked if the files contained a number for Ally or Karen. While she waited, she backed down the walk, keeping her eyes on the front door as if Ally might pop out.

  “Hello there, young lady.” A black woman had emerged from the duplex next door with a watering can. Her front stoop was overrun with hanging boxes full of colorful flowers along the rails. “Can I help you with something?”

  Greer crossed the sparse grass of the yard. The woman’s white hair and barely lined face put her anywhere from sixty to a hundred years old, but based on the stoop of her shoulders, Greer guessed she was at least eighty.

  “Your flowers are lovely.” Greer hoped her smile read as reassuring and trustworthy. “I’m looking for Ally Martinez. Your young neighbor. She missed an appointment with me after school.”

  The woman pursed her lips and emitted mild disapproval. “She’s a nice enough girl. Helped get my groceries up the steps a few times. But that mother…”

  “She recently lost her husband. He died serving in the military.”

  Pity tempered the woman’s exp
ression. “I didn’t know. Neither of them mentioned it.”

  “It’s still raw.” Greer didn’t add that it was the pity Ally tried to avoid. Her experience with Emmett had taught her that. “No one seems to be at home, but I was under the impression Karen was between jobs. Anything unusual go on over there today?”

  “Shenanigans were going on not an hour past. Mother and child in a screaming match. I was ready to call the authorities, but they both disappeared and all fell quiet.”

  “Any idea where they disappeared to?”

  “None, dear. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay. You’ve been a help. At least I know she made it home from school.” Greer gave the lady a wave and retreated to her car.

  Her options were limited. Driving the streets would be the equivalent of a Where’s Waldo game. Even if Amelia came through with a number, Ally might not reply.

  She had dinner plans with Emmett. Leave or stay? A web of indecision stymied her, and she drummed her thumbs on the steering wheel, waiting for something to happen to break the stalemate in her head.

  Her phone dinged. She fumbled to unlock her screen. It was Amelia and the text was simply a name and phone number. God bless the woman and their burgeoning friendship.

  Greer pressed the number but got Ally’s voicemail. She left a brief message, knowing Ally might not even check. Greer typed out a long text explaining her every worry, but backspaced before she was foolish enough to hit send.

  Missed you at the foundation. Everything okay?

  The reply came fast and was disappointing. Y

  Her thumbs hovered before typing out, Went by your place. Need help?

  Greer roasted for ten minutes waiting for a reply that never came. She let out a groan and banged her head against the seat. There was nothing else she could do unless Ally reached out to her. She headed back to Madison with a sense of uneasiness.

  Emmett was waiting for her on the porch with an ice-cold beer. She took it and killed half in one go.

  “Rough day?” His smile had lost most of its bitterness with life.

  She walked into his chest and notched her head against his shoulder. His scent was fresh in the stagnant air. She needed a shower after sweating on her trek around Nashville, but she needed his steady advice even more. “Ally was a no-show. According to their neighbor, Ally and her mom got into a huge fight then disappeared. Not sure if they are together, though. It feels like something is wrong.”

  “Did you text or call her?”

  “Both. She texted that she was okay.”

  “You don’t believe her?”

  “No, but I have no clue where she is.”

  “Unless you want to stake out her place, you’ll have to wait until she’s ready to talk about it.”

  “But I want to help.” She let her head fall back to look in his eyes. What she saw made her heart double Dutch. Tenderness and regret and love.

  “I know. She’s got to want help, though.”

  “You didn’t want help.”

  “True. But you knew where I lived and wouldn’t leave me alone even after I threatened to shoot you.”

  “So you’re saying I should stake out her place.”

  “No. Maybe?” He ran a hand through his hair and gave a little laugh. “Hell, I don’t know. Your methods did work for me.”

  She stepped out of his arms. “I’m going to hop in the shower.”

  “Casserole still has twenty minutes so take your time.”

  She took her beer and retreated to his bathroom to let the water wash some of her tension away. Her request to store underwear at the cabin had turned into him cleaning out an entire drawer in his dresser for her use. Unpacking an assortment of clothes and toiletries had felt like a giant leap for mankind. Or at least her-kind.

  The ding of her phone echoed against the tile. Not bothering with a towel, she dripped onto the floor and read the text from Ally.

  Can you come get us pls?

  Of course. Where?

  Somewhere on Cuthburt.

  Cuthburt Road was no place for Ally or her mom. ETA is 45 min. Are you somewhere safe?

  Greer clutched her phone tight at the pause.

  I think so. A little girl’s fear vibrated through the words and infected Greer.

  On my way. Hold tight. Call the police if something changes.

  Hurry

  She opened the bathroom door and rushed out. “Emmett!”

  The screen door banged shut behind Emmett. He whistled low. “Unless you’re in the mood for a quickie, I’ll have to turn the oven off.”

  Greer yelped and held an arm over her breasts even though his eyes and her body were well acquainted. She scampered to his room and grabbed clothes from her drawer, struggling to get them on her damp body. She wished she had something more badass to wear than shorts and a tank top. She needed a leather jacket and steel-toe boots.

  “Ally texted back.” She handed over her phone to let him read while she combed her hair and squeezed out the excess water. “I’ve got to go get her.”

  “We’ve got to go get her.”

  She looked up from tying her tennis shoes. “You don’t even know Ally.”

  “You care about Ally. I care about you. Ergo, I care about Ally.”

  She stepped to him, let out a huff, grabbed his shirt, and planted a hard kiss on his lips. “Thank you,” she murmured against his mouth.

  Emmett turned off the oven while she waited at the door, shifting on her feet. He hesitated before performing an about-face to unlock a drawer in a writing desk tucked into the corner. A matte black gun appeared in his hand before getting tucked into the waistband of his pants.

  The situation shaded darker with danger. “Is that really necessary?”

  “Cuthburt? Unless it’s been cleaned up, then yeah, it is.”

  They took her car, but Emmett drove. She was too distracted with her worry. She sent Ally texts along the way, updating her with their ETA.

  When they were within sight of the tall buildings of downtown, Ally quit replying. Greer sent another text. And another. No response.

  “She’s not texting me back.” Greer tapped her phone on her knee and sat forward. “Can you go faster?”

  “I’m not risking getting pulled over considering I have a gun in my pants.” He covered her hand jiggling the phone with his. The contact settled her nerves. “Don’t worry. We’ll find her.”

  Finally, after what felt like forever but was closer to ten minutes, they turned onto Cuthburt. The streetlights were blinking on in the gloaming, the buildings already throwing portions of the street in deep shadows.

  She texted Ally again. We’re here. Where are you?

  Nothing. Greer prayed the lack of response was due to nothing more serious than a dead phone battery.

  “Any suggestions on our next move?” she asked.

  “Get out and look around?” Emmett pulled onto a side street and parked at the curb, the lack of lighting inviting an enterprising thief to break into her car. Not that there was much to steal.

  They walked shoulder to shoulder on the sidewalk, dodging a garbage bag emitting a pungent rotting-meat smell. Trash gathered in corners against stoops as if the street itself had given up. After walking down one side of the street, they crossed to the other to trek back. She tried Ally again, texting and calling, but her voicemail picked up.

  “This is crazy. Do we start hollering her name?” She threw her hands up.

  “Let’s ask first.” Emmett nudged his chin toward a rowdy group of men gathered on the stairs leading up to one of the apartment buildings. As they grew closer, the group came into focus as mostly teenagers.

  Emmett stepped closer. “Hey, guys.”

  A lanky, dark-skinned boy who hadn’t quite grown into his over-six-foot frame returned Emmett’s greeting with a simple raising of his chin. He eyed them both with suspicion.

  “You lost, man?” the boy asked in a voice that cracked slightly, putting him even younger than Greer had
first thought.

  “Not lost but looking for someone.”

  “You a cop?” The group had quieted and a palpable tension thickened the air.

  Greer notched between Emmett and the boys. “Not cops. My friend needs a ride. She told me she was around here but she’s not answering her phone. She’s about your age, white and kind of Goth-looking. Her name’s Ally. Have you seen her?”

  The boy in front exchanged a glance with someone behind him. A more mature-looking boy stood at the top of the stoop. “You Greer?”

  “Yes. Greer. That’s me.” She took a step toward him.

  “Your girl’s in here.”

  “Thank you,” Greer murmured over and over as the boys on the stairs parted to let her and Emmett through.

  The single bulb lighting the interior seemed to be on its last watts. The boy led them past the stairs and down the hall to a door at the end. In a low voice, he said, “I was letting them crash until her mom sobered up, but she’s pretty messed up.”

  “Drugs or alcohol?”

  The boy only shrugged and toed the door open wider. Greer shuffled over the threshold into a cozy room full of shabby, mismatched furniture. Ally sat on the floor next to where her mom was passed out on the couch.

  “Ally,” Greer whispered, crouching next to her.

  Ally turned, her dark eyeliner and mascara smudged, her eyes huge. Greer hesitated, worried about Ally’s prickly, independent nature, but when her chin wobbled, Greer pulled the girl into a tight hug. She was stiff for a few heartbeats until surrendering. Her arms came around Greer and sobs wracked her body.

  Greer rocked her back and forth like she would a toddler, shushing her and whispering words of comfort. Emmett came to the arm of the couch and checked Karen’s pulse, but when he tried to lift her eyelids, Ally swung away from Greer and swatted his hand away.

  “Get away from her.” Ally popped up and shoved Emmett, who stumbled back a few steps before catching his balance. Greer tried to pull her back around, but Ally’s focus was on the perceived danger.