Lost Summer: A Gripping Romantic Suspense

by M T Stone

  “Ha! You missed.” Leo chuckled as he snatched the quarter and closed one eye, trying to focus more clearly on his target. He bounced it on the table and it immediately hit the side of the glass, to Summer’s relief. This time, however, he had thrown it hard enough that it sprang into the air above the glass. They both watched the flipping coin, and Summer held her breath as it came down into the center of the glass. “You drink!” Leo yelled, pushing the glass in front of her.

  “That’s way too much for me,” Summer protested, lifting the glass from the table and peering over the rim. “I’ve never drunk anything like this. It’ll make me sick.”

  A scowl of disapproval crossed Leo’s face, and he stared at her for a long second before snatching the glass from her hand and drinking half of it for her. “There . . . you have to drink the rest.”

  Summer shuddered before lifting the glass to her lips. Just the smell of it made her gag. Leo reached over and put a finger under the bottom of the glass, tipping it toward her lips. He continued to apply pressure as she took several gulps in order to avoid spilling it. “Stop.” She gagged as the quarter slid from the glass onto her tongue. She spat out the quarter and coughed before covering her mouth in an attempt to calm her gag reflex. “God, that’s gross!” she finally blurted out as the burning in her throat eased. “How can you drink that crap?”

  Leo laughed as he grabbed the glass and filled it halfway. He set the glass down and gave her a look that relayed the fact that he thought he had turned the tables on her. Knowing what was at stake, she pushed the glass back a couple of inches before bouncing the quarter off the table and landing it square in the center of the glass. “I got you back,” she teased, knowing that he had to be close to reaching his limit. They had nearly finished the second bottle, and he had consumed a half bottle before they even started the game.

  Leo blew out a long breath before tipping the glass to his lips and drinking it down. He glanced over at the bottle, which only had about an inch left in the bottom. He slid the glass across the table toward Summer before grabbing the bottle and polishing that off as well. “I don’t think I’ve ever drunk that much,” he declared with a loud burp.

  Summer’s mind was still spinning, trying to think of a way to keep him busy until the alcohol took full effect. “Could you warm me up some water, so I can wash my face?” she asked, knowing that it would take him some time to stoke the fire and warm up the water.

  “If the fire is still going,” he replied, leaning over to look out the doorway. “Otherwise, you’ll have to settle for cold water.” He got up from his chair, grabbed the water pail from the floor, and stumbled toward the door. Summer smiled to herself, knowing that it would only take a few minutes for all that alcohol to flood his system now that he was up and walking around. Less than a minute later, he reappeared without the bucket and leaned against the frame of the doorway. “I don’t feel so good,” he confessed before stumbling inside and heading toward the bed.

  She reached out and grabbed him by the elbow as he stumbled toward her. She guided him over to the bed, where he landed face first with a groan. This was the exact scenario that she had hoped would play out. Now she would have plenty of time to plan her escape. Even though Leo was extremely inebriated, he had still possessed the presence of mind to move the empty bottles as well as any other sharp objects out of her reach. She searched the area for rope, tape or anything else that she could use to tie him up. Again, there was nothing. She decided that her strategy should be to get out of the shackle, find the key for it, and then use it to secure him. Then she could take the boat across to the van and find her way back to the main road.

  She scrambled back to her chair and looked beneath the table for a slab of butter that she had dropped during dinner. It was gone. Her heart sank as she knew that it was the key to freeing her foot. She looked down at her ankle once again, and there was a fair amount of room between the metal and her skin. She just needed something slippery to coax it off.

  Looking around the room again, she spotted a small nightstand with two drawers on the far side of the bed, just beyond Leo’s passed out body. She tried to sneak around the bed and stretched the chain to its limit, but the drawer handle was well beyond her reach. She quickly realized that the only way to access the top drawer was to crawl onto the bed from the other side and lean over his passed out body. She tapped on the back of his leg and there was no response. She couldn’t help running her fingers across the raised scars on his back, amazed by the rigidity of them. He remained unresponsive, so she crawled onto the bed and reached over him, grabbing the handle of the top drawer. The metal cuff bit at her ankle bone as she leaned as far as she could in order to see into the drawer. Bingo!

  There was a small jar of Vaseline on the far side. She leaned as far forward as possible, eventually resting her entire body weight on Leo’s head, but she still couldn’t reach it. She grabbed the corner of the drawer, thinking she could pull it from the nightstand and get to it from the front. The drawer, however, stopped stubbornly at the midway point. She tugged on it several times to no avail. She then caught a glimpse of something else in the drawer. What the hell? Where would he have gotten that?

  “I’ve decided to offer a million-dollar reward to whoever locates my daughter and brings her back alive,” Ryan Bennett announced to the officers who were burning the midnight oil at the precinct. They had been working feverishly to organize search parties from both North Dakota and Montana to be deployed at dawn. “Maybe that’ll be enough incentive for you guys to pull out all the stops and bring her home.” The intensity burned in his eyes, a result of growing desperation.

  “We’ve been doing everything possible to get the word out and lock down the perimeter, Ryan,” the chief rebutted as he came around the side of the desk and exited his office. “All we need now is daylight, and we’ll keep narrowing down the search area until we find her. It’s just such a large area that it was impossible to cover quickly.”

  “You should’ve had choppers up right away,” Ryan countered. “We could’ve had her back already. You guys were more concerned with that Chase kid’s rights and not wasting any of your precious budget.”

  “You know I want to see Summer come out of this unscathed as much as anyone. She’s like a niece to us, so don’t think that I’m not trying my best to narrow things down. It’s just a very large swath of land to cover with no solid leads.” He lowered his head, turned away, and strode over to the coffee pot for a refill. “You should go home and get some rest. Olivia needs you,” he added, glancing back at him.

  “She wants me to find Summer,” Ryan countered. “I won’t accomplish that by sitting around at home.” He walked into the chief’s office, taking a seat off to the side of his desk. He rested his elbows on his knees and pushed his face into his hands.

  “Are you two okay?” the chief asked, giving him a look of genuine concern.

  “I don’t know anymore.” He paused to swallow the lump in his throat. “Honestly, I don’t think she has ever forgotten about Carson Chase. I could see it on her face today after he stopped by the house. It made my stomach turn.”

  “I know they were hot and heavy back in the day, but I can’t imagine she has been secretly pining for him all of these years,” the chief scoffed. “I know she basically told him to hit the road the last time he came sniffing around. You remember.”

  “Yeah, but that’s when Summer was young,” Ryan reasoned. “I’m not so sure she would have the same conviction now that Summer is going off to college. I honestly think that’s why she talked Summer into spending her first year at community college and living at home. She claimed it was because she’s young for her class, but I think it’s because we don’t have a whole lot in common . . . other than her.”

  The chief leaned in, placing his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “I’m telling you that if you love Olivia, you need to go home and simply hold her. You need to let her know that we’re doing everything possible to find your dau
ghter and tell her that no matter what happens, you love her,” he instructed, giving his shoulder a firm squeeze.

  “You’re probably right,” Ryan relented, glancing down at his watch. “I didn’t get any sleep last night. I should go catch a couple of hours or I’ll be worthless tomorrow.”

  “You do that. We’ll find her once it’s light out,” he reassured him.

  As Ryan started his car and turned toward home, his thoughts impulsively turned back to Carson and how he seemed to keep on rolling back into their lives. Not that he didn’t appreciate his help in tracking down Summer, but something about it left him with an uneasy feeling. The more he thought about it, the more he knew that his showing up to help was simply his latest ploy to win Olivia back. And as far as she was concerned, he was certain about the unresolved feelings for him. His stomach did another flip flop as he pulled in the driveway and saw Olivia standing in the window. Regardless of any residual feelings, the chief was right. Tonight, she needed his support and reassurance. He shut off the car and went inside.

  Chapter 9

  As the first rays of morning light streamed through the windshield, Carson’s phone buzzed with a series of text messages. Sergeant Reed was sending out the updated plans for the ground and air searches. The choppers were to lift off at seven am and after their initial sweep, the ground crews and dogs would be deployed. The second message made him smile as he read about the reward being offered by Ryan. Nothing would please him more than accepting a million-dollar reward from the man who had been his arch nemesis for all these years.

  “What’s got you in such a good mood so early?” Dylan groaned, stretching to ease the cramping in his legs and back.

  “Your future father-in-law is offering a million-dollar reward to whoever can find and return Summer.” Carson turned his phone to show him the message.

  “Wow!” Dylan was initially shocked by the size of the reward. “Although, if I had his money, I would probably do the same.”

  “From what I’ve heard, those oil checks have all but dried up since the oil market crashed,” Carson replied with a wicked smirk. “Have you ever seen any of those checks?”

  “No, but Summer used to talk about them. He was getting thousands per month at this time last year. Summer kept trying to convince him to buy her a new car, but he said she had to wait until her eighteenth birthday.” Dylan turned back toward the window. “Hopefully, she’ll live to see it.”

  “What did I tell you about staying positive?” He reinforced his question by giving Dylan another whack on the arm. “We’re going to find her, and now we’ll collect a million-dollar reward.”

  “I just want Summer back. You can have the money,” Dylan replied, rubbing his left shoulder. “I’m going to kick your ass if you keep hitting me!”

  “Whatever. I’m just trying to toughen you up.” Carson’s thoughts immediately went back to the text message. A million dollars would completely change his life. He would be able to move back to Westbury, quit his DEA job, and spend his time doing something he really wanted to do for a change. The past twenty years had gone by way too fast, and it seemed as if each passing year went faster and faster. He had been thinking about doing something on his own, and a million dollars would provide the seed money to start some type of a business. All he had to do was bring Summer home safely, and all of his dreams would come to fruition. He rustled in the driver’s seat with a renewed sense of urgency.

  Summer awoke with a start, anxiety instantly flooding into her chest. A shiver careened through her upon seeing Leo, still passed out, just inches away from her. The raised scars across his back immediately recaptured her attention. They were even more hideous in the morning light. She blinked several times, trying to ease the stinging in her eyes. They burned so intensely that it felt as if someone had injected sand beneath her eyelids. The short jags of nightmare-filled, fitful sleep had left her feeling even worse than before she slept. Much of the night had been spent planning and worrying, trying to determine whether she would be able to slip her foot free from the cuff, even with the right lubricant. She thought about ways to distract him long enough to be able to attempt an escape. Most of all, she wondered how Leo had gotten ahold of that picture of her. She immediately recognized that it was from Dylan’s Facebook, but it had been ripped in half, leaving only an image of her.

  Had Leo printed it out at the library or some other public place? He didn’t seem like the type who could even use a computer. How long had he been stalking her? An endless stream of questions in dire need of answers fluttered obsessively through her mind as she fully regained consciousness. She decided not to confront Leo about the picture. She didn’t want him to know that she had been snooping in the drawer. She also didn’t want him to realize that he had left something in there that could potentially aid in her escape.

  She rose slowly from the bed and crept over to the pail that he had dubbed her toilet. She pushed back into the corner and crouched awkwardly, trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake him. She glanced his way as she rose from the lowly task. He hadn’t stirred. With daylight breaking and him sound asleep, it suddenly seemed like it might be the best time to attempt an escape. Moving toward the chair as quietly as the heavy chain would allow, she looked beneath the table once again. She was hoping that she hadn’t seen the dropped butter because of the dim evening light. Even in the daylight, however, there was no sign of it.

  “What are you looking for?” Leo asked, looking up suspiciously.

  “I . . . I dropped some butter at dinner last night,” she replied, spinning around after being startled by his voice. “I was just going to clean it up, but its already gone.” She slowly crept toward him. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I drank way too much whiskey.” He plopped his face back onto the bed and let out a groan. “I saw you drop the butter, so I cleaned it up. Didn’t want it to attract any critters.”

  “I need you to get a few things for me today. Do you have a pen and paper so I can make you a list?” Leo lifted his head once again and looked at her as if he was completely confused by her request. “I’ll make a list of things that I need so you can go to town or wherever to get them for me,” she clarified.

  “I’m not going anywhere for a long time,” he grumbled, resting his head on his arm. “You know everyone is going to be looking for us. Besides, I have to paint the van before I can use it again.”

  “I can help you with that,” she offered, wanting any excuse to get out of the dungeon. “Are you going to use spray paint?”

  Leo laughed. “I’m going to lay my head back down for a couple more hours. If you need something to do, why don’t you make me some eggs and toast?” He held one eyelid partially open, waiting for her reply.

  “If you light a fire in the stove, I’ll make you some breakfast,” she replied, hoping that he would need to go outside for firewood. He grumbled to himself as he rolled off the bed. His back cracked several times before he was solidly on his feet, not something she expected from someone in his twenties. He slipped on his boots and made his way out to retrieve some firewood.

  After watching the door for a few seconds to make sure he was gone, Summer quickly scampered back to the bed and crawled across it to the nightstand. She slid the drawer open only to find that her reach was still a couple of inches shy of reaching the petroleum jelly. She quickly closed the drawer and rolled back to the center of the bed just as he came through the door with a stack of small twigs and branches. “You back in bed?”

  “I just needed to stretch out my back,” she replied, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. “You pretty much took up the whole bed last night.”

  “Well, that’s what you get for making me drink so much.” He opened the door to the stove and made a pile of twigs before breaking a few small branches and placing them on top. He struck a match against the top of the stove and held it beneath the twigs until they caught fire. “It’ll be hot in a few minutes,�
�� he told her, turning back toward the bed and crawling in next to her.

  Her stomach turned as the nauseating smell of last night’s overindulgence drifted in her direction. Whiskey may kill germs, but it did absolutely nothing to tame the foulness of his breath. He groaned and threw his arm across her, pulling her even closer to him. She remained quiet, hoping that he would quickly fall back to sleep, allowing her to slip away. Her thoughts impulsively turned once again to how this strange man had gotten that picture of her, and more importantly, how she was going to escape from this desolate hellhole. She looked down while straightening her restrained foot, trying to imagine it slipping out of the cuff.

  “I’m going to get started on your breakfast,” she whispered as she slipped out from under his arm and sat up on the bed. Leo didn’t flinch. He was already sleeping again.

  Olivia choked back tears as she pulled her hair back in a ponytail and checked her face in the mirror. The excessive crying, stress, and lack of sleep were obvious by the exaggerated lines on her face and the puffy darkness that encircled her eyes. She ran a finger under her left eye and decided to simply ignore it. Nothing mattered except finding her daughter and bringing her home safely. She pulled a pair of oversized sunglasses from her bag and slipped them on. That was the extent of her primping before she left the house to catch a ride in one of the search helicopters. She had spent enough time waiting and worrying. It was time to do something proactive.

  Ryan had assured her that his generous reward would bring everyone out of the woodwork, but she knew that they were in no position to dole out that kind of cash right now. Money trouble, however, seemed like a minor inconvenience compared to her growing desperation to see her daughter again. She pictured herself running her fingers through her hair and forming a braid, something she had done hundreds of times when she was a young girl. Reaching the doorway, a thought flashed through her mind. It was of Summer sitting out on the front steps laughing and talking on her phone. She steeled her resolve as she strode to her car, backed out of the driveway, and headed toward the airport. She would never stop searching until she found her.