Show Me the Danger: The Past Life - Book 2

by Utt, Kelly

  "Roddy?" I ask.

  "Yeah?" he says. “What are you trying to tell us, George?”

  "Remember the bad dream Ethan had before we flew out here the other day?" I ask.

  "What?" Liam asks. "What dream?"

  "I do," Roddy replies.

  "I haven't had a chance to tell you, Liam," I say. "Roddy happened to be upstairs while we were getting the boys ready to leave, so he was there when Ethan told me. He told both of us."

  Roddy squints his eyes as he thinks. Maybe he forgot about Ethan's dream. And my dream. Maybe he's putting the pieces together now. I hope so.

  "It was simple but scary," I continue. "Ethan said he had a dream where he was in the woods near a road and he heard me calling for Ali while looking for her. He said he was calling out to me, but that I didn't hear him. He was pretty shaken up."

  "That's interesting," Liam says. "Especially now."

  "I know," I say. "And that's not even the most uncanny part."

  "Tell him," Roddy says, motioning towards Liam.

  I'd be thrilled if Roddy believed there was something to this. I would be surprised, but thrilled. I need hope right now. I need a reason to hope that we’ll find my family safe and sound.

  "Yeah," I say. "It’s kind of freaky. On Saturday night, I had a similar dream myself. I told Marjorie and Ali about it Sunday morning. In my dream, I was on a road in the woods frantically searching for Ali. I was calling her name and was desperate to find her. I didn't know why I was searching for her or what had happened, but I could feel the urgency. I was distressed. And I thought I could hear Ethan's voice calling my name, but I couldn't see him and didn't know where he was."

  "Wow!" Liam exclaims. "That's intense, George."

  "I know," I say. "For me to have that dream Saturday night and then for Ethan to have a companion dream the very next night seems like more than a coincidence.”

  “Might he have heard you telling Marjorie and Ali about it?” Liam asks.

  “I don’t think so,” I say. “We were in our bedroom and the door was closed. Ali was nursing little Will and Marjorie stopped in to talk. It was just the four of us.”

  “Ethan was with me,” Roddy adds. “He didn’t hear George talking. I can promise you that.”

  The three of us ride along quietly, processing. I don’t want to overwhelm them with too much information at once. I know how all of this sounds.

  “I told Roddy,” I say to my uncle.

  I’m eager to document the timeline of my discoveries. I don’t want my family members thinking I’m crazy like Dr. Epstein apparently does. I continue to explain, slowly.

  “When I heard Ethan describe his dream, it made me pretty upset. But there wasn’t enough time before we left for the airport to talk to anybody about it. Then we were traveling, then settling in, and then...”

  “Yeah, when George told me about his concerns, I basically told him to suck it up,” Roddy says with a chuckle. It’s good to hear Roddy chuckle, even if only a little.

  “I see,” Liam says, smiling.

  “Glad you guys think this is funny,” I say. I’m sure I sound irritated, but in reality, I’m just relieved to be talking about it. Besides, it helps me to pretend things aren’t quite as bad as they seem right now.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Liam says, turning around further in his seat to look me square in the face. “You think that your dream and Ethan’s dream might have been real? Like some kind of preview of what is really going to happen? Today, right?”

  “Maybe,” I confirm. “What’s the harm in hoping for that? Because if Ethan could hear me calling for him, that would mean he’s somewhere nearby. And… alive.”

  Liam reaches back and pats me hard on the knee.

  “That would be very good, that’s for damn sure,” Liam says.

  I nod, feeling a little like a kid who’s set on an unlikely outcome. I can’t help myself. I don’t know what else to do.

  “I have a feeling we’re going to find them today,” I say quietly. It’s the truth. I do.

  We arrive at the search site before I can tell Liam and Roddy everything I want to. I guess my memories of Ancient Greece will have to wait until another time. That’s probably a good thing. It’s getting to be so much strange and unusual information now. I’m not sure I can make sense of it myself. The memories are coming so frequently and with such insistence that it feels like I should take notes or sketch out a timeline before I try to explain the whole thing to anyone else. Not to mention, the part about Isabel is embarrassing. Maybe I’ll leave that out.

  Roddy parks our Suburban in a makeshift parking lot next to a scenic overlook area on the side of Route Twelve. The three of us leap out of the vehicle eagerly, oblivious to the crowd gathered nearby. We stand to assess the situation, looking for the best way to get involved.

  Nobody told me the search was happening near an overlook. I knew it was mountainous terrain, but I guess I didn’t want to think hard about the implications of that fact. I immediately notice a couple of police vehicles marked as K-9 units. I look around quickly and see a German shepherd with its handler off in the distance. The F.B.I. agents at our rental house this morning asked for personal belongings. I guess a part of me knew they were collecting items for the dogs to sniff, but I didn’t want to think about that either. The logistics are so impersonal.

  I sure do wish our Ladygirl was here to help with the search. I doubt it would matter that she isn’t trained for such a thing. She wasn’t trained to stop the intruder who was about to get away with Ethan either, yet she did a perfect job of taking him down in our front yard and, as a result, we saved our boy. We wouldn’t have been able to do it without her. I’m tempted to call Jen and ask her to bring Lady out here. If Jen weren’t pregnant and extra tired from first trimester morning sickness, I probably would. I can see it now in my mind’s eye: Lady systematically combing through the woods, working tirelessly until she finds our family safe and sound. Marjorie, Ali, and the boys would be so happy to see Lady coming to their rescue. A real hero, saving the day once again. Tears rush to my eyes as I imagine the scene, then realize it can’t happen that way. I hope that when my family is found, there will be a friendly German shepherd who looks like Lady there to comfort them.

  My attention turns to a familiar figure walking towards us.

  “Duke!” I say as he gets closer. “I wondered where you went.”

  “Hey, George,” he says in a somber tone. A fresh wave of nausea ripples through my gut when I hear it. I worry that Duke knows something I don’t.

  “Duke has a friend from college on the Force here,” Roddy explains. “He got in touch last night and the local chief agreed to loop Duke in on the investigation.”

  “Oh, that’s so good,” I say. “Makes me feel a lot better to have guys on the inside. Between you and Taye, we have a real advantage here.”

  It’s still raining on and off and Duke looks like he’s been wet this morning. He’s wearing a rain jacket with the South Lake Tahoe Police logo on it. He doesn’t mention my outburst at Bi-Mart or how I came to be sedated. I wonder what his involvement was in the whole thing given that we left him at the vacation rental house while we went to pay Phil a visit. Maybe he missed the episode. Unlikely, but a nice thought.

  “Right, right,” Duke says, sounding somewhat like his usual self.

  Liam, Roddy, and I look at him expectantly, waiting for an update.

  “George, my friend,” he continues as he puts one hand strong on my forearm. “We’re working every angle we have here and we’re working in coordination with the F.B.I., but I have to be honest. We don’t have much to go on.”

  I swallow hard.

  “Continue,” Roddy says. Duke glances at him, then focuses back on me. Maybe the two of them already talked while I was knocked out. That makes sense, I guess. I get the idea the others all know more than I do.

  “We’ve set up a perimeter here and are conducting a search because this is the last
place the Odyssey van was seen. A motorist reported seeing Ali driving the Odyssey while approaching this curve yesterday afternoon. A pickup truck was trailing closely behind. The woman called 9-1-1 because she thought it was odd. She estimated that Ali was going at least twenty-five miles per hour over the posted speed limit. She also thought Ali looked distressed because she saw her checking her side mirror to monitor the truck. It was driving aggressively behind her.”

  “Oh,” I say, disheartened.

  “We also know that this is the last place Ali and Marjorie’s mobile phones registered on the wireless network. Coverage is spotty out here due to the mountains, but both phones were pinged in this area before going dark. We don’t know whether that means the phones were taken offline here or whether the ladies traveled further out of town. At least it gives us something.”

  “Yes,” I say. It’s all I can muster. Duke takes a deep breath, then continues.

  “The authorities chose to set up here because vehicles often slide over the side of this embankment when they’re going too fast around that curve over there. Local police say this is the best shot we have at the moment. Unfortunately, there’s no sign of them yet. I’m sorry I don’t have better news.”

  I look at Liam and Roddy, my eyes pleading for something to hold on to.

  “They could be anywhere,” I say.

  “The F.B.I. is working on tracking down the perpetrators, too,” Liam says. “Duke’s involved and making sure they’re doing all they can on that end.”

  “So, should we even be searching here?” I ask, gesturing to the embankment. “There are all these officers and agents already covering this area. Plus the volunteers. Maybe we should drive further out of town. I know it sounds crazy, but I’d like to search for a wooded area that looks like my dream. This isn’t it.”

  Duke wrinkles up his face and looks perplexed. Before I can explain, a van from Channel 2 News out of Reno pulls up near us and cuts its engine.

  “Damn,” Duke says. “Someone must have tipped them off that you were here. They’ve been hounding the local precinct all morning, trying to get the scoop.”

  Liam grabs my arm above my elbow gently but firmly, as if he’s about to lead me somewhere without making it look like that’s what is happening. It reminds me of the way John Wendell used to hold my elbow sometimes. In an instant, my eyes are filled with big, insistent tears.

  “I was afraid of this,” Liam says. “Media will be very interested in you because of the other times you’ve appeared. You’re already known. People want to follow along to see how things turn out.”

  I think back to that day in The Cupboard Kitchen last winter when John Wendell was so proud to show me I was featured on the front page of his beloved Ithaca Journal, calling me son and holding my elbow. We had no idea things would unfold like this. We were blissfully unaware of the danger my family was in. I wish I could go back to that day. I wish I could be anywhere but here. In fact, I want to run away from here. I want to run to my family and take them into my arms. I want to kiss each one of their sweet heads and feel their warm breath against my neck. I want to hear Ali call me Georgie in that sweet sing-song tone. I want to feel her leaning against my chest, believing that I can protect her. I want to hold my little men and see them smile up at me. I want to be the real-life hero who they can count on to keep them safe. I’m overwhelmed at this moment and have no idea how to get through it. I think we should be searching a different wooded area along Route Twelve because of my dream. The reality, though, is that I have no idea whether it’s the right thing to do. I’ve never felt so helpless.

  Ever since I answered the call from Officer Dunley yesterday afternoon and until this very moment, I’ve been somewhat detached from the enormity of what’s happening. Sure, I’ve been afraid. I’ve been sad. I’ve been angry. Angry enough to go into a blind rage in Phil’s office at the Bi-Mart. But I don’t think it has all hit me until right now. Maybe the anger was protecting me from even worse feelings. My knees buckle and I feel lightheaded as I turn towards the embankment and stare into what looks like an abyss of jagged, harsh landscape. It looks so cruel and unforgiving. I honestly can’t imagine adults surviving in this terrain overnight, let alone three little boys. Little Will is just an infant. If anyone is injured, that makes survival even less likely. My mind cycles through a series of horrific images as my body trembles. I see my wife, bloody and motionless, draped over the steering wheel of the Odyssey while broken glass glistens with raindrops around her. I see sweet Ethan, precious Leo, and treasured little Will, purple and still in their car seats.

  My heart feels like it’s shattering to pieces right inside of my chest. It pounds like a hammer and I break out into a cold sweat. I begin to feel like I’m choking. I gasp for breath and open my eyes wide as terror overtakes my entire being. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a young female reporter and her middle-aged cameraman rushing towards me. I’m in a downward spiral and am too emotional to care. I think I might be having a heart attack. My chest suddenly feels heavier than it ever has before, like a lead weight has been dropped right down on top of me. At the same time, an intense wave of nausea sloshes around in my body like poison. My legs fail me and my body folds up like a paper doll on the dusty ground. Liam tries to catch me and hold me up, but he can’t. I think I might be dying. Right here and now. I feel detached from myself. Distant and very cold. If my wife and our boys are dead, I want to join them. I don’t want to go on without my family. I want relief from this pain, whatever that means. I don’t want to exist if I don’t have them with me. I can’t withstand the pain that’s rising inside of me like swells in the sea. It hurts too much. As if the sun has suddenly set, everything goes black.

  When I come to, a man who looks like an old cowboy is hovering over me and I have a rubbery oxygen mask covering my nose and mouth. I’m still cold and I feel numb. I squint my eyes. My vision is blurry, but I work to focus. I can see Liam, Roddy, and Duke standing a few feet away and looking very concerned. The reporter and her cameraman are a few yards beyond them, filming the scene while a large crowd looks on. I get the idea that Roddy and Liam are trying to stand in such a way to block me from their view. I see Roddy glance over his shoulder and then adjust his angle the same way he did for the surveillance cameras when we had Ethan’s attempted abductor cornered in the front yard.

  “Am I alive?” I ask the man as he squats near me and makes notes on a clipboard.

  “Yes, sir, Dr. Hartmann,” he says. “Very much so.”

  I wonder how he knows my name.

  “Did I have a heart attack?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” he says calmly. “I’m Doug. I’m a doctor and I’m going to check you out. We’ll take this one step at a time, okay?”

  Doug has a way with patients, I can tell. I’m reminded of Sahima and Mama at the birth center and Gloria at the hospice house. People who take care of the physically vulnerable are angels right here on Earth. And my mom falls into that category with her work as a nurse. A pang turns in my stomach as I think of Mom and wish she were here now. I don’t care what she did in Ancient Greece. And I don’t care that she’s dating Dr. Epstein. Surely, we can work all of that out. I just want my mom right now.

  “Has anyone called my mom?” I ask.

  It must sound strange, but I figure doctors like Doug have heard and seen it all. I don’t much care what anyone thinks of me at the moment.

  “I don’t know,” Doug says as he motions for a young woman who is standing nearby to come closer, then nods at her to indicate that she should honor my request. “We’ll ask your family members over there if anyone has called your mom yet. They’ll know for sure. If she hasn’t been called, someone will do it right away.”

  “Thank you,” I manage.

  “Glad to help,” he replies.

  “What kind of doctor are you?” I ask.

  “Internal medicine,” Doug says with a smile. “I’m here on vacation with my family…”

&nbs
p; His voice trails off as he realizes what he’s saying.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “Thank you for helping me.”

  “My pleasure,” he says simply as he slips a blood pressure cuff around my upper arm, then asks me some questions about the physical sensations I had prior to blacking out.

  Within minutes, I begin to feel more normal, so I take a few deep breaths in an attempt to quicken my recovery. Maybe I had a panic attack. I’ve never had one before, but I’ve seen them happen to other people.

  “How soon will you be done so I can get out of here?” I ask.

  “Soon,” he says. “My official advice is that you should be checked out at an emergency room right away, but this looks to me like an anxiety attack. You’re young and healthy, and your symptoms seem to have peaked within about ten minutes. If you were having a heart attack, those symptoms would have continued on.”

  He winks at me in an exaggerated movement, then smiles like we’re old buddies.

  “Alright,” I say, relieved.

  “I know about your situation,” he adds as he leans down close to my ear. “I’m here today because I volunteered to help with the search.”

  I put one hand on Doug’s wrist and look hard at him.

  “Thank you,” I say. “You’re a good man.”

  He takes his other hand and pats the top of mine three times.

  “Rest here a while longer, then go find your family,” he instructs.

  “Will do, sir. Thanks again.”

  Doug packs his things up into what looks like a medical bag, then disappears into the swarm of people who are gathered. I assume he’s going to return the bag to his car. It’s remarkable that someone would appear out of a crowd like this to help me in my time of need. I’ve always heard that you’re less likely to get help in a crowd because everyone is scared to step forward and be scrutinized as the one person responsible for a positive outcome. I guess Doug proved that wrong. I’m glad he did.

  I sit up and collect myself as Liam and Roddy move in closer, still blocking me from the cameraman’s view. Duke gives me a little wave and a thumbs up, then turns to join a group of officers having a discussion together on the other side of the lot. I recover pretty quickly, which I suppose lends support for the anxiety attack diagnosis. Once I’m feeling stronger and am able to stand, my uncle and my father-in-law shield me as we walk to the Suburban together. The reporter and her cameraman follow, but Roddy puts the vehicle in gear and drives away before they can reach us. I’m sure they have plenty of footage to work with already.