When my meal had been placed before me, Mr Norris leaned forward. ‘What?’ he said, eagerly.
So I explained about what she said about her contacts, and how I’d found the whole lot still in the bedside table.
‘Somebody else packed her up,’ he said, ‘but didn’t know about her contacts and glasses. Somebody who obviously didn’t know her all that well. Did you compare the handwriting on that note to something else of hers?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t have anything to compare it to.’
‘Well, surely we can find something,’ Mr Norris said.
I smiled at him. He smiled back. The teeth may have been false, but the dimples were real.
Bess made it downstairs first, clad in an Indian-print mini-dress with black leggings and ankle boots. She looked adorable but I knew better than to say so. ‘Where’s Alicia?’ she asked.
‘Probably in the bathroom,’ I said, setting out juices and cereal.
‘No, I just came out of the bathroom. She’s not in her bed, either, and it’s not made. Which is a first,’ Bess said.
Megan wandered down the stairs. She’d managed to pull on jeans, a bra and a top, but her shoes were in her hands, as well as her make-up bag. And by the bags under her eyes, she looked like she needed it.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ I asked her.
‘God! I hardly slept a wink last night,’ she complained, throwing her body onto one of the bar stools. ‘Something woke me up.’
‘Did you see Alicia upstairs?’ Bess asked her.
‘I wasn’t looking for her,’ Megan said.
‘But did you see her?’ Bess insisted.
‘No! Jeez. I just said I didn’t sleep a wink last night! Get off my back!’
I left the kitchen and went to the bottom of the staircase, calling up, ‘Alicia! Time to get up! Breakfast is ready!’
There was no reply.
‘You don’t want to be late on your second day of school!’ I called up the stairs.
Still no answer.
‘Oh, for God’s sake. You’re supposed to be the good one,’ I said under my breath and headed up the stairs. I went to her room first and, like Bess had said, the bed was unmade. She wasn’t in it, or anywhere else in her room. Not only was her bed unmade, but her desk chair was tipped over and papers from her desk were on the floor. Very un-Alicia-like. I moved down the hall to the bathroom. The door stood open. It was a mess – towels on the floor, hair-care products littering the sink counter. But no Alicia. I looked behind the shower curtain, just in case she was playing a joke. Alicia didn’t joke much, but hey, it could happen. She wasn’t there.
I looked inside both the open doors of the girls’ rooms. No Alicia. I opened Graham’s door and looked in. She wasn’t in there either. With a sinking heart, I went back to Alicia’s room, in search of the satchel. It wasn’t in there.
I rushed down the stairs. She wasn’t in the formal living or dining rooms. She wasn’t in the master bedroom or bathroom, and I already knew she wasn’t in the kitchen and family room, where I’d already been.
‘Mom?’ Bess said, seeing me rushing around.
‘Is the minivan out there?’ I asked.
Bess jumped down from her stool and looked out the window of the back door. ‘Yes. Mom?’
Willis came out of the bedroom. Megan was down from her stool too. And the three of us, Bess, Megan and myself, were staring at each other.
‘What’s wrong?’ Willis asked.
I turned to him quickly. ‘Alicia’s gone.’
‘What do you mean, gone?’
‘As in she’s not here, Dad! Jeez! But her bed was slept in.’ Bess turned to me, panic on her face. ‘Mom?’
‘Did you check—’ Willis started.
‘Everywhere!’ I said. I didn’t add ‘duh’ but I wanted to.
‘The utility room? Your office?’ he offered.
OK. He got me. The two places I hadn’t checked. I moved fast, Willis and the girls right behind me. My office was under the stairs, down the hall from the formal dining room. She wasn’t in there. Across from my office was a combo utility room and half bathroom that shared the plumbing of the master bath we’d added when we’d had the extension made a couple of years ago. It ran the length of the dining room and had a window. Alicia wasn’t in there, but the window was broken.
The girls both screamed and burst into tears. Willis and I ran for our phones.
Luna called the school, giving vague excuses for all three girls’ absences. She was in our house with Chief Donaldson, arguing about whether or not to call in the FBI. I’d tried to get the girls to go back to their rooms and lie down, but neither of them were having it.
‘We’re here for the duration, Mom,’ Megan said. ‘We’ll do whatever is necessary to get her back.’ She had her arm around Bess’s shoulders. Bess, usually the stronger one, was still gulping back sobs, tears running down her cheeks.
‘I think right now it would be good if you’d take Bess upstairs—’ I started.
‘No!’ Bess all but shouted. ‘I’m staying down here!’ She wiped at her tear-streaked face. ‘I’m OK.’
I pulled the girls to me and we hugged for a moment.
Together we went into the living room where Luna sat on the sectional with Chief Donaldson and Willis.
Stealing myself, I told those present, ‘I checked Alicia’s room again when I was pretty sure she really was gone – and so is the satchel.’
Chief Donaldson nodded. ‘I’m not surprised,’ he said. ‘But thanks for checking, E.J. Meanwhile, it’s protocol to call in the FBI when there’s a kidnapping, which this obviously is,’ the chief said.
Bess left the embrace of her sister and me and moved further into the room. ‘The FBI only comes in if it’s across state lines or there’s a ransom, right?’ she asked. She didn’t wait for a response. ‘There won’t be a ransom and I’m sure they’re around here somewhere. All they wanted was the satchel, and they have that. And Alicia …’
She turned her back on them and came back into our huddle, tears leaking again.
‘She’s right, Barry,’ Luna said. ‘We’re on our own on this one.’
‘What’s this “we” shit?’ he said, then turned to me and my girls. ‘Excuse my French, ladies.’
‘Chief Polk is lending me to you,’ Luna said, stating the name of the chief of police of Codderville, her boss. ‘Until this thing is over.’
Barry nodded. ‘Well, that’s good,’ he said. ‘I’ll have to thank him.’
‘Thank me. I’m the one who talked him into it,’ Luna said.
‘Well, OK, then. Elena, thank you.’
‘You’re welcome, Barry.’
‘Jesus Christ!’ I said, stepping out of our huddle. ‘Skip all this “Cumbiya” shit and let’s find Alicia!’
Willis stood up and took my arm. ‘Calm down, baby—’ he started.
I pulled away from him. ‘You calm down!’ I said. Turning to the two professionals sitting there, I said, ‘Do you have any leads on these assholes? You said they rented the car under the name Brown, right?’
Luna answered. ‘That’s what we found out,’ she agreed.
‘So what are you doing to track him down? This Mr Brown? Surely we can do something—’
‘Mrs Pugh,’ Chief Donaldson said, standing up. ‘Lieutenant Luna and I will do everything in our power to bring your foster daughter home. Until then, you and your family need to stay put and let us do our work.’
He and Luna left by the front door, and all I could think as they departed was, Fat chance, Chief.
The rest of the night had gone decidedly downhill, as far as Alicia was concerned. The two men, who called themselves Smith and Jones, which she told them was extremely derivative, if not a little clichéd, found duct tape in the truck, which she could only conclude was not theirs since they had no idea where anything was and since it was neither the blue car nor the white car they’d been in earlier, and taped her mouth shut. The old truck di
d not have a back seat, so the three of them rode on the front bench seat, Alicia in the middle. At one point she managed to get a foot over the hump in the middle to the driver’s side, with hopes of slamming on the brakes and killing the pair of bookends, but unfortunately she hit the accelerator instead, only managing to throw them all back against the seat.
‘Grab her foot, for Christ’s sake!’ Mr Smith had yelled at Mr Jones. Mr Jones grabbed both her legs and put one of his larger legs over them, thus trapping her. She vowed never to wear shorty pajamas again. She felt violated by the man’s touch on her thigh. When this was over, she had every intention of taking a bath in hand sanitizer.
Meek Alicia was gone. She was channeling Megan and doing a good job of it. At least she was pissing them off. But she had every intention of busting out and heading home, with or without their heads in her satchel that was sitting on the floor board beneath her trapped legs.
They hadn’t blindfolded her, which she thought of as possibly a bad sign. If she knew where they were going, would they want to silence her? Within fifteen to twenty minutes, Mr Smith turned into a driveway, the headlights picking out barbed-wire fencing, a few trees, and some cattle whose sleep was disturbed by the bright light. She felt the old truck roll over a cattle guard, and within minutes Mr Smith had stopped and turned off the engine. They were parked in front of an old, two-story-frame house that leaned just a little to the right. Cement steps that didn’t connect to the front porch nevertheless led to it, and Mr Jones had her by the arm, leading her up the steps, across the porch, and into the barren front hall. Off to the right was a room with a light on and they took her in there. An old man sat in a ladder-backed chair, tied to it with duct tape. She nodded her head at him and he nodded back.
‘My, aren’t we polite!’ Mr Smith said sarcastically.
‘They’re just being friendly. I think, under the circumstances, they should both be commended for it!’ Mr Jones said.
‘I’ve decided I’m going to kill you with a knife, rather than a gun,’ Mr Smith said to Mr Jones. ‘It’s slower. I’ll have more fun.’
Mr Jones rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t listen to him,’ he said to Alicia and Bert. ‘I think he has a problem with low blood sugar.’
He sat Alicia down on the sofa, an old beat-up affair, held together with duct tape, possibly from the same role as the tape decorating Alicia and Bert.
‘If you promise not to be mean, I’ll take the tape off,’ Mr Jones said. Alicia nodded her head and Mr Jones removed the restraint.
‘What about that man? You know he could choke, or even get his nose stopped up and die because he can’t breathe out of his mouth,’ Alicia said, as sweetly as possible.
Mr Smith, having heard Alicia’s comment, turned quickly to Bert. ‘Take it off him,’ he said to Mr Jones.
‘You take it off!’ Mr Jones said, even though he was up and moving toward Bert. He removed the tape and Bert stretched his mouth in different ways, then tried his voice.
‘Excuse me, but I really gotta pee,’ he said.
Mr Jones looked at Mr Smith, who was on the phone, talking to Mr Brown, he assumed.
‘OK,’ Mr Jones said to Bert. Taking out his pocket knife, he knelt beside Bert and began to cut the tape. When he was finished, he helped the old man to stand up.
Mr Smith waved at him frantically. Then mouthed: ‘The girl! Tape!’
Mr Jones sighed and sat Alicia in the ladder-back chair and, only using enough tape to go around her body twice, adhered her to said chair.
‘This is ridiculous!’ Alicia said loudly.
Mr Smith looked at her and put his finger to his lips, asking for silence. She did not comply. She felt Megan was alive and well in her brain.
‘You can’t tie me up like this! I’m an American citizen! Help!’ she screamed.
Mr Smith left the room with his cell phone and Alicia started to scream.
‘Shame on you!’ Mr Jones said, and taped her mouth shut again. ‘This poor old man is gonna pee himself because you’re acting like a baby!’
With that, he asked Bert to lead him to the bathroom.
Alicia sat in silence. She looked around the room, scoping it out. She hadn’t lived with E.J. Pugh for a year and a half for nothing! She was going to get out of here if she had to bite an arm off to do it. Hopefully, someone else’s arm.
THURSDAY
VERA’S STORY
Gerald was a smart man. It didn’t take that long for us to go from Mr Norris and Mrs Pugh to a first-name basis. We were both of an age, and had known each other for several years, so it seemed fairly natural when we slipped into using first names. I really don’t think I need to explain myself here. His first suggestion was to go to my room and find the note Rachael left me, which we did. I, of course, left the door open while he was in my room.
‘She would have had to sign things to go on this trip, right?’ I suggested.
‘A couple of problems with that,’ Gerald said. ‘One, anything to do with the hotel she probably did over the Internet.’ True enough, I thought. I’d made all my arrangements with the hotel over the Internet – or rather my granddaughters had. ‘And two,’ he said, ‘anything she would have signed for the choir would probably be with Sharon and not Brother Joe.’
Damn! I thought, but didn’t say out loud. A lady never cusses in mixed company. ‘Then we’re out of luck,’ I said. ‘I can’t think of anything else she could have signed or written.’
‘Did she sign for anything here? Like dinner? Had it billed to her room or anything?’ he countered.
I thought. Hard. That first night we were too late for dinner when we got here. But breakfast the next morning? Damn, I signed for that! Then there was the luncheon, but that was part of the package … ‘I don’t think so, Gerald,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘I can’t think of a time when she would have.’ Then I remembered! ‘She said she was going to get her nails done right before the luncheon! She forgot to get ’em done at home and saw they had a beauty shop here that did nails!’
‘And the beauty shop will have that ticket with her signature,’ Gerald said. He stuck out his hand like one of my grandkids going for a high five, so I got on tiptoe to hit it, then we were out the door.
And no, I didn’t feel strange having a man in my hotel room. I’ve known him for several years, he’s a nice man, and it was strictly business, so get your mind out of the gutter. Besides, as I said before, I’d left the door open.
I had just gotten off the phone with Lacy Kent, the woman from the junior orientation who was supposed to be coming over for coffee this morning. I had no desire to explain the entire convoluted mess to her – I lied and said one of my girls was sick. We postponed for the following week. I just hoped my life would not have been destroyed by then. The girls and I were sitting on the sofa in the family room when we heard the front door open and close. Willis came in the room.
‘What are they going to do?’ I asked, knowing my voice was weak and tired. Why was this crap affecting my kids? Again? What did I do wrong that this crap followed me around like a lost puppy, then morphed into a badly trained pit bull when I least expected it?
Willis sat down on the other side of the girls and put his arm around them. Our hands met behind Bess’s back and our fingers entwined. ‘They’re putting out an APB – all points bulletin – on the white car.’ He shrugged. ‘Meanwhile, I guess we wait for a call.’
We heard a car in the driveway, the slamming of a door, and Megan jumped up and rushed to the back door. Graham walked in and Megan hugged him. He took her by the hand and walked into the family room.
Willis jumped up. ‘What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Austin!’
‘Megan called me,’ Graham said. ‘I came as fast as I could. Is she all right? Have you found her? What the hell is going on?’
‘Megan!’ I said.
But Bess grabbed her sister’s hand. ‘Good thinking, Megs.’ And she too got up and hugged Graham. He sat down between the g
irls.
‘No, we haven’t found her yet—’ Willis started, but Graham jumped up.
‘Then why aren’t we out there looking for her?’ my son demanded, and I thought maybe it wasn’t such a good idea – him being here. When a young man is as in love as my son was with Alicia, reason and good sense were not always readily available.
I took his hand and pulled him down next to me. ‘Where would you suggest we go look? Luna and Chief Donaldson are checking out all the hotels and motels in Codderville and Black Cat Ridge, and looking for the car the girls saw them in. We have that license plate, but it was stolen.’ I rubbed his back. ‘Everything that can be done is being done.’
‘So tell me everything!’ Graham said, taking both my hands in his. ‘From the moment you dropped me off. Don’t leave out a detail.’
So I started, telling him about not being able to eat dinner at the Driscoll – leaving out the part about not being able to have sex either (some things they don’t need to know) – about his dad eating a healthy breakfast but me not being able to, at which point Willis tried to jump in with some denial, but Graham and I both shushed him, and getting home and Willis bringing in the luggage, finding the satchel.
Between the four of us – Willis, Bess, Megan and myself – we got the rest of it out.
‘Where the hell did this satchel come from?’ Graham asked.
‘We don’t know,’ I said.
‘When did it get put in the truck?’ he asked.
Willis and I looked at each other. Willis said, ‘The only time I can think of was when it was in the parking garage at the Driscoll.’
‘OK, why would someone put that satchel in your truck?’
I had a brain fart. ‘Scenario,’ I said. ‘Suppose a man is running through the parking garage, two guys are chasing him, he’s carrying a satchel, he stuffs it in the first place he finds – Willis’s clown truck – then runs up to the top level of the parking garage—’
‘As in the two guys who’ve been stalking us?’ Megan asked.
‘Yes, and then the two guys chasing him shove him off the top!’ Willis said.
Gone in a Flash Page 10
