Barry Overton, Justice of the Peace for that part of town, had ventured out to assist in the medical assessment of the body. It was a little like a scene outside theWizard of Ozin which the former Agent Morgan might have been determined not only merely dead, but clearly most sincerely dead. And there was a lot of police presence for one dead worthless slab of humanity. Of course, most of them had probably labored under a similar fearful conclusion as Alex—that they were securing the murder scene for one of their own. Even if none of them were named Mendez.
Standing 6’ 4”, looking to weigh in the neighborhood of 320, Barry Overton was a hulking figure of a man with leathery skin tanned by years of oilfield work during the 1970’s and 80’s. He had white mutton chop sideburns meeting a thinning wreath of matted white hair, which didn’t quite venture all the way to the top of his otherwise bald head.
Though his bare scalp had remained, for the most part, hidden from view, except in the rarest of moments when sixty-four year old Barry Overton had seen the need remove his cowboy hat so as to wipe his increasingly sweaty brow.
His voice reeked of the quality that was popularized in 1960’s and 70’s shows such asAndy GriffithorDukes of Hazard. Deep in its tone, Barry Overton might just as easily passed for a redneck Barry White. Alex didn’t have the time or the desire to compare their singing abilities.
Alex noticed Danny trying, and mostly failing, to look official. Standing among men whose physical stature made him almost disappear. Danny appeared like a child among men. Like a little boy trying to understand a man’s game. For the first time in his life, Alex saw Danny in the strangest of light. As the preverbal fish out of water, he was nervous. Anyone that didn’t know Danny would have missed it, but Alex could see it as plain as he could see the lapping waters of Lake Gilmer.
“What we know is this,” Chief Steelman told Alex. “We know that a 911 call was logged from an Eric Reid. At least that’s the name he used. We have no clue where he’s from but he knew he was at Lake Gilmer, so we’re going on the hope he’s a local, maybe not from Gilmer but an East Texas boy.”
“Boy?” Alex asked, “How old?”
“Alex, we don’t know. We’ll know more when we learn if this Eric Reid even exists. But the tape sounds awfully young and we can’t assume it’s a prank. We have a dead body. Somebody was here, somebody that alerted the police, someone that asked for help to save a woman being attacked. Or at least what he thought was a woman being attacked. He mentions a red SUV. Red, not maroon, but well, he could have meant deep red. Or it could have looked brighter in different light.
Then we think the caller dropped the phone and all we hear is the rush of an engine for a couple of seconds before the call drops. Either this side of the parking lot had no service or somehow the call got disconnected. Either way this Eric Reid got away.”
“You hope,” Alex amended. “You realize that the cutting off of the phone might have been somebody capturing him. For all we know Eric Reid might be dead. And…”
“Don’t say it, Alex,” Danny said, walking up behind him. “Don’t even think it. Lisa is fine and we’re going to find her. Alive! And whoever this Eric Reid is he better be on our side or else.”
Alex turned but didn’t acknowledge Danny’s comment.
“Chief?”
“We’re going to find her, Alex. I promise. I’ve got people checking DMV records, cell phone records, birth records, Social Security records, arrest records—you name it—on any Eric Reid in ten counties. If this kid’s got a tetanus shot in the last twenty years we will know about it. If we have to expand statewide we will. I don’t care if they have a red SUV, a white Ford Escort or a neon orange Yugo, we’re going to find the people who have Lisa.”
“I want back in,” Alex said, his voice weak, nearly begging. Far more desperate than even he thought was allowed.
“Alex, you’re in. You’re as close to this investigation as I can allow you, Son.”
“I mean I want my badge back.”
“No,” Danny said, meeting confused looks from both Alex and the chief. “Alex look, your family needs you. Your kids need you—now more than ever. Like the chief said, we are covering all the bases. If you hadn’t run off…” Danny paused, sighed, knowing he was about to go down a road Alex was not willing to peacefully walk and then continued. “Alex, I don’t want two missing Mendez’s on my conscience. I do not want to have to try and explain to Christina where bothof you are.”
“Christina!” Alex said, suddenly remembering he hadn’t talked to her all day. The sun had gone down so Alex knew it was late. The few lavender lights provided little in the way of actual illumination, so Alex turned his watch toward the Chief.
“Can you shine your light here?” Alex asked. The chief shined his flashlight on Alex’s watch. It was nearly 10 at night. “Oh man! I didn’t call Christina to say goodnight.”
Suddenly his phone chirped. He checked the Caller ID.
Home.
“Mendez.”
“Alex? It’s Alyson.”
Nerves tickled his stomach, nauseating him. His mouth went instantly dry. What was he supposed to say?
“Hey, Alyson. Everything okay?”
“That’s why I’m calling, Alex. To see if everything’s okay with Lisa and the baby. Christina was pretty worried about you when we put her to bed.”
Alex sighed. “I’m sorry I haven’t called. I just looked at the time before you called. Christina’s asleep though, right? I’ve been pretty preoccupied. I’m sorry.”
Yeah preoccupied with finding his kidnapped wife.
Don’t ask, Alyson. Please don’t ask!
“Alex, is something wrong?”
“Alyson, I don’t want you to worry. Promise me you won’t tell Christina what I’m about to tell you, or my mother for that matter.”
“They’re both in bed, Alex. What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
He swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
Hesitation.
“Alex? Are you there?”
“Lisa’s missing.”
CHAPTER 20
Capture
“I’m guessing you don’t have any money in that outfit,” he asked
her. She noticed his eyes stayed a little too long on her frame. Though
somewhat covered by the tattered hospital gown, she felt suddenly
vulnerable and exposed.
“So much for chivalry,” she sneered. “I left my purse in my other
hospital gown I’m afraid. You can send me a bill for your rescue
services provided we make it out alive.”
The scratch on her leg twitched with pain as she brushed against a
paper sack crumpled in the floorboard. She winced, cradled her injured
ankle. Though the bleeding had stopped long ago, the scratch being
more superficial than she’d first realized, it still hurt like crazy. It was
worse than a paper cut, cat scratch and carpet burn put together. And
when she’d first made it into the young kid’s car, she had found herself
bleeding like a stuck pig at a barbeque.
“We’re low on gas,” he continued, ignoring her remarks, looking
back at the road. “I didn’t exactly plan on being a hero on the run
today.”
They had been on the run for a while too—speeding through street
after street, down countless country roads. Twisting, turning until they
had finally managed to escape the hulking SUV. Whoever this kid was,
he sure knew the back roads. And taking the winding roads at those
speeds at night hadn’t exactly done wonders for the top heavy SUV. It
had rolled somewhere down a dust-laden oil-topped road. She figured
whoever was in there probably wasn’t dead but they were very likely to
have one heck of a headache after that tumble.
Still, they might have friends and those friends
might have another
vehicle waiting. How much of a lead did they really have? Ten
minutes, twenty?
This car looked like a newer model. It might have some sort of
GPS. The blue lights of the digital read-out told her it was after ten in
the evening. How long had they been on the run? How long ago did
they actually lose their would-be captors? It’s funny how you don’t
think to look at the clock when you’re busy eluding certain death.
She looked at the gas gauge. Sure enough, it read barely above a
quarter of a tank. Even with the decent gas mileage the car was likely
to get, it wouldn’t last forever and at the speeds they’d managed, the
quarter of a tank it was registering might be a mistake waiting to be
discovered at the most inopportune time.
Even in the dark she could see him reaching into his back pocket.
Nervously she grabbed his hand. “Just what do you think you’re
doing?”
“Easy,” he said, jerking his hand free. “I’m just getting my wallet.
We need to get back to civilization so that we can find a gas station.”
Slowly, carefully he pulled the wallet from his back pocket, held it
up in the dim light of the evening and laid it carefully in her lap.
“I need you to check for me. See if I have my dad’s credit card in
there.”
“No credit cards,” she said, sharply.
“We are going to need gas!” he reminded her.
“You got a GPS in this thing?”
“GPS?” he asked.
“Global Positioning, you know, a way of tracking you if you get
lost or the car gets stolen.”
“Oh, the anti-theft stuff? Nah, not that I know of, I have a car alarm
and all that snazzy stuff but none of that fancy satellite tracking. That
would be cool!”
“That would spell our doom,” she corrected.
“Huh?”
“Technology, kid,” she explained. “It’s a wonderful thing but it’s
also dangerous. People can use it against you. Things designed to
protect you could be the very thing that gets you hurt. Like somebody
jerking a stun gun outta your hand and using it to hurt you. Well a
person looking to harm you just has to track you by GPS, and all he
needs for that is a good internet connection and a brain to go with it.
Yours isn’t wired for that so maybe we’re safe. So long as we don’t use
a credit card to get gas. They can track those too.”
“Eric.”
“What?”
“My name. It’s Eric, not kid.”
“Oh, okay Eric. Nice to meet you Eric. When this is all over we’ll
go for coffee or Coca-cola—whatever you kids drink these days.”
“It’s usually customary to reciprocate when the person that saves
your life introduces himself.”
“Lisa.” she said, less than confident. “I think my name is Lisa
Mendez.”
“You think?” he asked.
“I don’t know who I am,” she continued. “Those guys that were
chasing us kept calling me Mrs. Mendez. Lisa Mendez. I’m not even
sure if they have the right person. They were asking me a lot of
questions about something at a police station.”
“The explosion!” he said. “You’re a cop?”
“Apparently they think I am,” she confirmed. “Why? You a
criminal?”
“No,” he whispered. “Just don’t like cops. Never met one I could
trust.”
“Ever met a cop, period?” she asked.
“Honestly? No. I just know you aren’t supposed to trust cops.
They’re never around when you need one.”
“You sound like some ghetto reject—can’t trust the cops. So let’s
go out committing more crimes. Can’t get the cops to come out into our
high crime area but we’re not willing to do anything to help the cops
nail the idiots causing all that high crime to begin with. Better to die
without helping make the streets safer than to live in a world where the
criminals are held accountable for their acts. Kid, you watch too
freaking much television.”
“Well if you’re not a cop you ought to be!” he said.
“It’s just stupid,” she insisted. “People want the police to solve all
their problems but then they just want to go out and make more
problems for the cops to solve and complain about the fact that the
cops either don’t solve all the problems or complain about the methods
we use to fix the problems somebody else causes. Feels like raising
kids! I just keep cleaning up the messes. Just once can’t they keep it
clean for five minutes? Better yet if they’re big enough to dirty the
streets with drugs, murder, vandalism and prostitution, they’re big
enough to clean up their own messes once in a while. I think the world
could use a big dose of grow yourself up!”
“Remind me again why I saved you.”
She was silent. Her eyes were huge with surprise. The air filled
with an uncomfortable silence.
“I’m just kidding,” he said.
“Not funny, kid.”
“Eric,” he reminded her.
“I don’t care what your name is. It’s still not funny.”
“Well my name is Eric and I said I’m sorry.”
“We’re both gonna be sorry if we don’t get some gas soon.”
She didn’t even hear the tire blow until he was already jerking the
wheel to try and steady the Sunfire. Too late, too hard perhaps. The
turning of the wheel, the forward velocity, the winding road—it was all
too much for the small sedan.
The car flipped, flopped and banged more times than she cared to
count. End over end and side to side. Even against the slick surface of
oil-topped roadway, the car made an ungodly screeching sound as the
involuntary force of inertia battled against the friction of metal against
roadway. Tiny glass missiles pierced her already tattered, battered,
broken skin. Her head banged against something hard, causing an
imagined fireworks display to sparkle in her field of vision. More than
stars, tiny explosions set off with each throbbing, stabbing or shooting
pain. They were both still screaming when she lost consciousness.
CHAPTER 21
One Flesh
“For this reason, a man should leave his father’s house and be united with his wife and they shall become one flesh…”
As those words worked through Alex’s mind, he couldn’t help but feel like the very flesh was ripping from his body. He felt as if his very soul was in danger. The very life squeezed out of his heart. Had it not been for Christina and Baby Joseph, Alex would have had a very difficult time finding a reason to go on living. His hope seemed drained. He questioned everything. What’s worse, he could find nothing resembling truth onto which he could grasp.
“What God has joined together let no man put asunder…”
He still remembered those words spoken by the minister on the day he and Lisa became one flesh. What God had joined together had never truly been put asunder until now. And the man responsible, at least one of them, was still out there and still had half of Alex’s flesh.
“An eye for an eye…” Alex thought, “A life for a life.” If it took the rest of his life, he would make sure somebody suffered for the pain
Lisa was enduring now
.
Her voice echoed through his mind.Who are you?
She had looked him dead in the eye and had seen a stranger. In all his life he’d been shot at, beaten down, and abused twenty different ways. But nothing in all his life had ever stabbed at him with the force of those three little words.
Now, back at the hospital, back at the scene of the crime, Alex struggled to find direction. His compass was gone—his stability.
Despite all his cowardice Danny had been right to scold Alex about running off half-cocked like some overeager rookie with more guts than brains. If he’d stayed put, he might have been able to get there faster. He might have been able to tell where Lisa had gone. Maybe, just maybe, he might have been able to get there before she left.
There were plenty of tire tracks, skid marks and such, but it could have been just an overeager group of liquored up teens on their way home from the latest summer drinking binge. Nothing that could have tied it to Lisa or even to this mythological Eric Reid.
Whoever you are, he thought as his mind conjured up the frail image of his wife’s imaginary adolescent superhero,you better not let anything happen to her.
The hallway outside the nursery was packed with expectant fathers and nervous family members awaiting their first glimpse at their newest addition.
As Alex peered through the glass, looking at the sign that still read “Baby Boy Mendez” Alex wanted so badly to stop feeling the purgatorial force weighing down on him. The ultimate limbo, stuck nowhere. Unable to let little Joseph truly begin his life with his own unique identity. No one could truly give him encouragement because they did not know what to call him. Only Alex called him Joseph, each time hoping it strengthened the tiny Mendez’s will to survive. Even that was mostly silent acknowledgment—a personal thing between
Alex and his tiny son.
He watched as Joseph’s sleeping body spasmed. It almost looked as if the tiny infant had the hiccups. As a tear formed in Alex’s eye, he couldn’t help but find the bitter sweetness in the situation. A child’s unwitting discovery of the diaphragm’s most annoying of processes. A mother not there to bear witness to the first of what would be many discoveries.
Suddenly thoughts of the future became too much. A future wasn’t a future without Lisa. The first steps, the first words, the first night of waking up every half hour to check on the baby. None of it held any meaning without the mother of his children, his partner in life, there by his side to share in it.
Mourning Reign Page 14
