Mourning Reign

by Edward Hancock II

  A small vehicle pulled up near her.

  “Get in!” came a voice from inside it.

  You don’t have to tell me twice, Bucko!

  Behind her, the groaning kidnapper grabbed at her ankle again, missing by millimeters. Another lunge and he’d have her for sure.

  The door to the car flew open, almost hitting her in the head. She hadn’t realized just how close the vehicle had been to her. The pain, the struggle, probably the drugs—whatever it was, her depth perception was off. As she tried to stand, she realized her depth perception wasn’t the only thing hindering her forward progress. She momentarily stumbled backwards, only to find herself being pulled forward into the second strange vehicle in one day.

  “Drive!” she shouted.

  “Just hang on!” he said. Oh God, she thought as his pubescent voice registered in her mind. He’s a kid! I’ve been rescued by a kid!

  Nervously, her would-be knight-with-shining-pimples turned the wheel and headed for the uncertain freedom of the open road. One of her captors dove in front of the vehicle. Screaming in fear, her pubertal savior merely accelerated, hitting the unlucky human roadblock with enough force that she was certain she heard bones crack, even over the roar of the engine and the child-like screams of her rescuer. The body launched itself over the car, tumbling end over end, anything but gracefully, before landing with a great thud on the concrete parking lot behind them. The front windshield cracked slightly but, thankfully, didn’t spider web under the weight of the collision.

  “I hope to God you’re not trying to kill me,” she announced, finally shutting her door. “I’ve really had enough of that today!”

  “I’m not,” he said. Cursing, he looked in the rearview mirror.

  “They’re coming after us!”

  “Drive!” she screamed.

  Empty fast food bags and countless junk food wrappers crinkled beneath her bare feet as she fumbled to right herself.

  “What the heck am I doing?”

  “Just drive!” she repeated, louder. “You’re driving! That’s what you’re doing and if you don’t do it quickly we’re both going to be

  dying!”

  ***

  Tisha Warner, though no relation, was a lot like Lisa as a young cop. She was hotheaded, determined, and eager to prove herself in the male-dominated world of police work. She’d come from a long line of public servants. Firefighters, private detectives, mail carriers and, yes, cops.

  “My cousin is a lawyer,” she added, half smiling. “But we try not to talk about him.

  Yes it was all too clear to Alex why Danny had chosen Tisha for the job of his personal assistant. He saw in her what Alex saw. A good cop in the making. Under the right mentor, she would go far. Too bad

  Danny had lost his guts in the explosion. He’d forgotten how to mentor. He was in command but had seemingly forgotten what it meant to be in control.

  Alex hadn’t forgotten. And if Danny didn’t have the guts to lead Tisha Warner to better herself as a police officer, Alex sure did. He might not have the badge, but he still had the heart of a cop. Even if he had to shake off the rust as they went along.

  Driving around town looking for Lisa wasn’t an easy task. Tisha’s car was a charcoal gray 2004 Chevrolet Cavalier. Not the biggest car in the world, Alex struggled to find ample legroom, but it was a decent ride nonetheless. And in the day of pricey SUV’s and skyrocketing fuel prices, the Cavalier was an economical choice for a person surviving on a single police salary.

  The conversation was mostly to get to know one another. It was light, somewhat friendly, but always managed to make it back to the task at hand, finding Lisa.

  “We need to coordinate somehow with anyone else out searching,” Alex said. “We need to make sure we’re not duplicating search areas that have been dried out.” He was sounding more and more like a cop.

  In truth it was a defense mechanism. If he couldn’t maintain his air of professionalism, he ran the risk of doing the unthinkable, cracking under the intense weight his wife’s loss placed upon him. Nervously, he checked his watch. It was going on six-thirty. The sun was showing signs of wanting to set but in the heat of summer it wasn’t likely to disappear for a couple hours or more. Merciful sunlight, he thought to himself. Just hang on long enough.

  “We’ll find her, Alex,” Tisha said, reassuringly. “Somebody will. We just have to catch a break is all.”

  The road was filled with SUV’s, none of them maroon. Any one of them could have been the switch vehicle. The vehicle criminals often had waiting for them when they abandoned the getaway car. They had checked several abandoned warehouses in downtown Longview, as well as the Gregg County Airport. No one fitting the descriptions of Lisa or her kidnappers had left by plane at least.

  Alex’s worst fear, of course, was that they could be half way on their way to Dallas by now. Or worse well into Louisiana, Oklahoma or Mexico.

  No one knew which way they’d gone. All the searching in the world was just pointless wheel spinning and even Alex knew it. He’d left the hospital wanting to do something. Danny had admonished him to “think.” Unfortunately for Alex he had been too busy feeling to think. But, like Tisha had said, the more eyes out looking the better.

  Tisha’s cell phone startled Alex. She fumbled with it briefly, trying to manage the vehicle safely and answer the call.

  “This is Tisha,” she said.

  A few “uh-huhs” and mmm-hmmm’s and “Yes sir’s” were about all Alex got. Finally, she said, “We’ll be there shortly.”

  As she disconnected the call, Alex asked, “Who was that?”

  “Captain Peterson,” she said. “They found Lisa.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Back to Mendez

  Am called Brandy. Brandy is good dog. Good girl is Brandy. Good girl gets belly rubbed. Good girl gets food. Brandy likes food. Brandy likes head scratched. Brandy not so sure about belly rubs. Belly rubs tickle. Make Brandy kick leg. Brandy not want to kick little human.

  Brandy love little human. Brandy can’t control leg. Tickle make leg move. Tickle bad! Brandy bite tickle but Brandy can’t see tickle. Tickle too fast for Brandy.

  ***

  “Time for all Puddin’ Pops to go to bed, I think.”

  It had gotten late, pushing 9:00. Well past the 8:00 bedtime Christina was accustomed to. Alyson was amazed at how quickly time always flew when she was taking care of Christina. If time only flies when you’re having fun then taking care of Christina must have been the time of Alyson’s life.

  Having Alex’s mom there seemed to pass the time even more quickly. Christina was a marvel of post-toddler intelligence, constantly in discovery mode. Too smart for her own good, though often finding herself grasping to articulate thoughts too complex for the average five-year-old vocabulary.

  Alyson definitely loved Christina and by all appearances the feeling was mutual.

  “Aww man! Do I haveta?” Christina asked.

  “Yes ya haveta,” Alyson said, bobbing her head playfully. “If you don’t go to bed you’ll never grow any taller. Your body only grows when you’re sleeping. If you don’t sleep you’ll be a munchkin forever!” She added playful menacing to the word “forever” that caused Christina’s eyes to go big with excitement. The kind a child gets when they see Santa for the first time and they know they’re excited but they’re not really sure if he’s to be feared or simply marveled.

  “Is that true?” she asked.

  “Cross my heart,” Alyson assured her. “Your body is too busy doing other things during the day. So it can only focus on growing at night when the only other thing it has to worry about is your loud snoring.”

  “Is that true, Gramma?” she asked Luisa Mendez.

  “True it is,” Mrs. Mendez told the curious child. “You should go to bed, little one.”

  “Brandy snores,” Christina said, pursing her lips to the side, giving the golden retriever a child-like smirk.

  Had it been any other dog, Alys
on wouldn’t have thought it, but it almost appeared as if Brandy were offended by the suggestion that she was anything less than the most quiet, peaceful, pleasant sleeping companion.

  Alyson picked Christina up and walked toward her bedroom. As always, Brandy padded faithfully behind, never taking her eyes off Christina. Brandy wasn’t mean. You couldn’t even really call her possessive. But she was no doubt protective, especially where Christina was concerned.

  Mrs. Mendez brought up the rear. It had seemed to Alyson that she had been struggling to find her place since she got here. Alyson did all she could to let Mrs. Mendez help out. Lord knows she needed the help, and appreciated it more than she could say. But how do you tell somebody where to pitch in when you’re not really sure yourself?

  Alyson had gotten pretty good at taken up the care of Christina in the absence of one or both Mendez parents. They had developed somewhat of a pseudo-routine. But the sudden demand on Alyson’s time and energy was more than she was accustomed to. If nothing else, Alyson thought, she just needed more sleep herself. She could only imagine how Alex must be feeling. And poor Brandy. Alyson knew what a smart dog she was, but even a dog like Brandy had to be wondering what the heck was going on.

  “Time for Puddin’ Pets to go to bed too, I guess,” Alyson said as she opened the door to Christina’s bedroom. Brandy yawned in acknowledgement, stopped long enough to shake away the canine cobwebs before following Alyson into Christina’s room.

  The room was decorated in an odd assortment of cartoon characters and colors. But then, Christina was a unique child. One that was as prone to play with a Transformer or military plane, as she was to play with dolls and her plastic kitchen sets. Her twin bed was covered in Disney sheets, blankets and pillowcases. Each one depicted a scene from the famous Mickey Mouse epic,Fantasia. AStar Warscalendar adorned the wall above her bed. This month, it was faithful C-3PO’s turn to keep guard over sleeping Christina and Brandy. Across the room next to her closet door sat a four-tiered bookshelf, covered in Highlightsmagazines, coloring books, countless Dr. Seuss tales, Disney adventures and the obligatory ABC and learning books. Her Leap Padsat in front of the bookshelf, opened to the most recent Scooby Doo adventure she’d been undertaking—the only trace of disorder in the otherwise surprisingly orderly room.

  Alyson placed Christina on the bed. Then Brandy jumped on the bed beside the tiny child and Alyson reached down and patted her on the head.

  “Okay you two,” Alyson said. “No talking. No tea parties and no wild poker games. It is night-night time, you hear?”

  She smiled and winked as Christina giggled. Bending forward, she kissed Christina’s cheek.

  “I love you Aly,” Christina said, yawning suddenly.

  “I love you too, Puddin’ Pop.”

  “I love you Gramma” Christina said, as Luisa Mendez entered the

  room.

  “I love you, Mija.”

  “Gramma?”

  “Yes, love?”

  “How do you say I love you in Spanish?”

  “Te quiero” she said, her voice lilted with a beautiful Spanish

  accent.

  “Te quiero, Gramma,” Christina offered, in near perfect pronunciation.

  “Te quiero, Mija.”

  “What’s Mija?” Christina asked.

  “It means my daughter or my child.” Mrs. Mendez offered. Alyson couldn’t help but wonder if Christina had now trapped the poor woman into an all-night session of question-and-answer. She was good at that.

  “I’m confused. I’m Mommy’s daughter and Daddy’s.”

  Luisa Mendez chuckled softly “Oh, my dearest. You belong to the world. To the Mendez world…”

  “And Warner,” Alyson added.

  “Ah yes,” Mrs. Mendez added. Alyson wondered if she had momentarily offended the elder Mendez.

  Christina yawned suddenly. “Goodnight,” she said, to anyone who was listening, Alyson guessed. “I’ll ask you more Spanish stuff in the morning.”

  “Love you, Puddin’ Pop,” Alyson repeated.

  Brandy sneezed. Shook her head and scratched her ear.

  “Love you too, Puddin’ Pet,” Alyson offered, giving the pooch another playful tussle.

  Brandy yawned, shook herself out, stood up, did a half circle and settled back in resting her head on Christina’s belly.

  ***

  Little human is called Christina. Christina is friend. Little human sleeps in Brandy’s bed. Brandy guard little human from bad humans.

  Some big humans bad. Want to hurt little human. Brandy not like some big humans. Brandy love some big humans. Brandy live with big humans. Call big humans Mommy and Daddy. Mommy and Daddy good humans. Brandy love Mommy and Daddy.

  Strangers in house with little human. Not strangers but not Mommy and Daddy. Strangers scratch ears good. Strangers not scratch belly.

  Strangers know about bad tickles. Little human like stranger. Old

  Stranger smell friendly. Young Stranger smell like food. Food good!

  Young Stranger good!

  Yawn!

  Brandy is sleepy.

  Brandy smell trouble. Stranger worry.

  Brandy guard.

  Brandy good girl. Good girl gets ears scratched. Brandy likes ears

  scratched.

  Sniff. Sniff.

  Brandy miss Mommy. Mommy feed Brandy. Young Stranger feed

  Brandy. Brandy not like food from strangers. Brandy miss Daddy.

  Daddy throw ball. Brandy chase ball. Good girl. Chase ball is fun.

  Brandy worry.

  Mommy not home. Stranger feed Brandy. Mommy not here. Ball is outside. Daddy not outside. Daddy not inside. Brandy worry.

  Yawn!

  Brandy nervous.

  Brandy growl! Scare danger!

  Brandy good girl. Good girl protect. Brave! Stranger put Christina on Brandy’s bed. Stranger touch Christina with mouth. Young Stranger forget to lick Christina. Humans not lick. Brandy not forget. Brandy lick Christina. Brandy smart girl.

  Christina giggle. Brandy cannot giggle. Brandy giggle is broke.

  Brandy happy. Brandy love Christina. Christina love Brandy. Christina is good human. Brandy is good dog. Good girl.

  ***

  “Aly?”

  “Hmm?”

  “When’s Mommy coming home?” Her voice was shy, unsure—a mixture of tired and timid.

  “Not for a while,” she whispered, turning out the light, leaving only Christina’s nightlight to illuminate the room. “But Daddy’s with her, so she will be fine.”

  “When’s Daddy coming home?” Even in the dark, Alyson could see her expression. Her eyes went sad. How do you explain this to a five year old? Even one as smart as Christina. One that had already been through something very similar just a few months before. Even if a child’s mind is ready for the burden, do they need it?

  Christina climbed under the blankets and began to look around.

  She yawned again. Brandy repositioned herself and rested her chin back on Christina’s stomach.

  “Well, when Mommy’s all better I guess. Or at least when she stops needing so much sleep,” she began, unsure of what would come next. “I tell you what. You get some sleep and we’ll call Daddy in the morning okay?”

  “Aly?”

  “Yes?”

  “I can’t go to sleep yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “I gotta say my prayers first.” Christina gave a small insecure smile that was evident even in the dim glow provided by the small night light.

  “Okay,” Alyson laughed. “Say your prayers.”

  “Will you say them with me? Daddy usually does it but…” She trailed off.

  “Don’t you think God would get confused if we both talk at the same time? Might be hard for him to make out.”

  “No,” Christina said. Sitting up, she switched on her bedside lamp. “Hold my hand.” Without hesitating, Christina grabbed Alyson’s hand. Alyson almost laughed when Christina took Brandy’s pa
w in the other hand. She met Christina’s eyes who seemed to be waiting for Alyson to speak.

  “Ready when you are,” Alyson said.

  “You have to take Gramma’s hand. And Gramma has to grab Brandy’s paw first.” Christina insisted.

  “Oh,” Mrs. Mendez said, grabbing for the pooch’s awaiting appendage.

  “Sorry ‘bout that, girl,” Alyson said. “Don’t want you to be left out of the prayer loop do we?” Brandy licked Mrs. Mendez’s hand gently.

  Perhaps that meant Alyson was forgiven. Or maybe there was simply a ritual pre-prayer hand-licking that was required in the strange religion of Christina and Brandy Mendez.

  “Okay,” Christina said. “Now close your eyes and bow your head.”

  Alyson did as she was told.

  “Ready?” Christina asked.

  “Ready.” Mrs. Mendez said.

  “Ready,” Alyson whispered. “We can all use a good prayin’.”

  Alyson crossed her eyes, stuck her tongue out to the side and smiled playfully at the small child.

  Christina giggled.

  Brandy sneezed.

  CHAPTER 19

  Lost and Found

  They hadn’t found Lisa. What they had found was the dead body of the man that once had called himself Agent Morgan. He was dressed differently than he’d been during Alex’s initial confrontation. He wore a white lab coat, now stained with blood in mass quantities. According to the Upshur County Sheriff’s Deputy that found him, “it looked like he’d been beaten to death or run over, one of the two. Maybe both.”

  Alex was just thankful itwasn’tLisa.

  When Alex and Tisha pulled into the parking lot overlooking Lake Gilmer, he’d had been frightened by the sight of a body under a white sheet. Realizing he was not staring at the remains of a dead wife, he found himself unavoidably fascinated at the huge police presence. Even in the darkening night, Alex noticed more cars than seemed possible.

  Police cruisers from Upshur, Wood, and Gregg counties were visible near the entrance. An Upshur County Sheriff’s vehicle was there, as were the Constable and two cruisers from Longview. Several other vehicles, probably unmarked police units, lined the area across both sides of 852 that bordered Lake Gilmer.