He knew that he’d have to carry her.
Chapter 66
B
rent tried to calm everyone’s nerves. He didn’t know if he was going to succeed, but in his police work, being in people’s dining rooms and sitting at the table had usually proven to be a benefit. The dining room table seemed to relax people, making them more attentive and willing to share. His hope now was that the same would work with his own family.
Jenna had, only a minute before, returned from Kyla’s bedroom, doing her part to keep Amy from becoming emotionally sucked into the mystery of Elizabeth’s whereabouts.
She’d come up with the idea that Kyla needed to have a babysitter and that Amy would be the perfect fit, even letting her know how much she’d get paid to take on the task. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to get her to eagerly agree.
They all sat, save for Jamie, whose hands were planted firmly on the back of the chair he stood behind. He was very antsy.
Brent decided to let that go.
“All right, gang; let’s all try to step back emotionally for a few minutes. All right?”
“But Dad, it’s 9:50,” Jamie asserted. “And she’s not answering anyone.”
“I’m fully aware of that, Jamie. But we still need to process things with as little emotion as possible. Emotion clouds both logic and judgment.”
Brent hated that he had to transition into police-officer mode with his own family. But from what he’d been taught at the academy and through his years on the job, he was very familiar with how to process unknowns in emotional situations.
This was where he excelled.
“Okay, now what do we know? Did Elizabeth tell any of you the name of her new friend at the restaurant?”
They all looked at each other momentarily before all three began to shake their heads.
“She just said that it was a coworker who was going through something and needed to talk,” responded Tara.
“That’s the most important place to start. I wonder if there is anyone at the restaurant who was working at the time they left. Maybe I can get an answer as to who that was.”
“You mean we,” asserted Jamie. “We can get an answer as to who it was.”
Brent looked at his son with pride. He wanted answers and was willing to do what it took to get them. But Brent knew that he’d likely become a liability because of his impatience.
“I understand your need, Jamie. She’s very important to you.”
He watched as his son’s eyes went big.
“Worst secret in the world, Son. Worst secret in the world.”
Three grins emerged simultaneously in the midst of all the uncertainty.
Jamie remained silent as Jenna reached over and gave him a nudge.
“What do you want us to do?” asked Tara.
“Right now? Just sit tight and pray.”
Jamie frowned noticeably.
“As for me, I’m going to go put my uniform on. I may not have jurisdiction here in Millsville, but my uniform should still have an effect.”
Brent made to move back from the table, then stopped.
“We should probably all pray together right now,” he said.
“Good call,” said Tara.
Jamie opted to take a seat where he’d stood at the end of the table.
They reached out to one another and bowed their heads.
“Hi, Father. We love you. And we thank you that nothing escapes your eyes and ears. We come to you now on behalf of Elizabeth. We don’t know if she’s in any trouble at all. We have no evidence of that, but you know how she is and where she is. Father, if she is safe, then keep her so, and have her contact us quickly.
“However, if she is having difficulty or is in some sort of danger, we ask you to intervene on her behalf. Protect her and deliver her back to us safe.
“Also, Father, please … remind her of who you are and who you want to be for her. Her Savior. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
He raised his head just as Jamie continued.
“And Father, if there is anything that we can do to help her, please show us, so we can do what we need to do. Amen.”
“Amen,” they all concluded.
“Excellent addition, Jamie,” his proud dad said. “Perfect.”
DREW SURVIVED THE excruciating pain of carrying Elizabeth down the stairs.
Elizabeth no longer seemed to be hating him, because with each strain to his shoulder, as he either picked her up or dealt with the impact of each weighty step down the stairs, he could see compassion in her eyes.
When he’d finally set her in a chair in the living room, she’d said, “I’m sorry I put you through that,” to which he’d responded, “I’m the cause of my pain, Elizabeth. Not you.”
Though he’d managed to get both of them into a more comfortable setting, the problem remained: how to extricate himself from the mess.
He loved Elizabeth, but he didn’t know about trusting her when it came to her cop dad.
More irony.
Love and trust.
The lessons he was learning as a result of this one young woman had been previously unattainable while in the fog of his addictions.
Elizabeth sipped on her sports drink, the only thing she had with which to fill her belly. There had obviously been no reason to stock the house with any sort of food. He’d gotten rid of everything his mom had previously kept in her fridge and cabinets.
Except….
Wait a minute!
He looked at Elizabeth. “I’ll be right back.”
She nodded, looking pathetic in her disheveled, tearstained state, her right leg extended in an attempt to alleviate some of the pain.
Drew remembered another thing too! He’d have to go out to his car for that, though.
He walked down to the kitchen and to the small pantry beside the refrigerator. Opening the folding door, he was pleased to see what he had remembered not throwing out.
There were five packages of ramen noodles. Two chicken and three beef.
He walked to the hallway and called to the living room.
“Chicken or beef?”
“Chicken?”
He went back to the pantry and withdrew one of each flavor.
Under the counter, he grabbed a saucepan and filled it with water. He looked at the chicken-flavored packet for the heating instructions and found that the noodles in one packet would serve two people, so he returned the beef to the shelf.
Less than ten minutes later, he was headed back to the living room with two bowls of simple food.
He reached out and handed one of the bowls to Elizabeth. She gave him a pseudo-smile and said thanks.
He sat down on the couch, opposite the winged chair in which she sat.
Drew blew on the soup. It smelled good. It had been lunchtime since he’d eaten anything.
He remembered what he’d wanted to go out to the car for.
“I’ll be back again.”
She nodded again.
ELIZABETH HAD TO wait for the bowl of noodles to cool down before she could place a spoonful in her mouth. It smelled good, and until he’d mentioned the word chicken, she’d not felt the pang of hunger she was dealing with now.
Her nerves had silenced her appetite completely.
She didn’t know why Drew had to go outside, but she did hear him open and close the door to his car. Several seconds later, he walked back inside the house.
He looked in on her and said, almost comedically, “I’ll be back … again,” then walked back toward the kitchen.
Thirty seconds later, he returned with a bottle of sports drink and another smaller bottle. He set the drink down next to his bowl on the coffee table, then approached her.
“Tylenol,” he said, while unscrewing the top.
“Thank God,” she said, holding out her hand. She placed the two tablets into her mouth and swallowed them with a swig from her near-empty
bottle.
Her two words triggered a thought. A thought she would have had an hour and a half earlier, if he’d been a part of her life.
God.
The biggest missing component.
Drew sat back down on the couch and opened his sports drink. He popped a couple of the painkilling tablets into his mouth and followed them with a swallow of the red drink.
He picked up his bowl and spoon.
“You know,” she began quietly, her words unplanned, “I can’t remember the last time I ate a meal without saying grace.”
Drew stared at her, brow furrowed, apparently unable to respond to her out-of-the-blue comment—a statement that she knew wasn’t true in the strictest sense of the word.
She had never prayed when she ate alone, and when she was with any of the Lawtons when grace was said—either as a family or one-on-one—she never prayed with them either.
“I umm … I … wouldn’t have taken you for a … you know … a God believer,” he said, fumbling over his words.
“Yeah, I’m not. I mean, I am, but.…” She sighed. “It’s complicated.”
“It’s not an easy subject.” He paused. “I don’t believe in God.”
What he said wasn’t expressed with pride. It was said with barren eyes and a lack of conviction.
“Do you want to?” she found herself asking.
“Can’t believe in what doesn’t exist.”
“Do you want to believe he exists?” she persisted, not really knowing why it was so important to know his response.
The man stared into his bowl for several seconds.
“No. And I don’t think that I want him to exist.”
She had felt the same way. She did notice, though, that he’d followed her lead and called God “him.” Him was a term of familiarity … of belief.
Maybe he didn’t want someone to exist whom he believed—deep down—actually might.
He quietly stared at the noodles some more. She deliberately made a tinkling sound with her spoon and bowl.
He looked up at her, and she placed a bite of noodles into her mouth.
“Thank you for making these,” she said honestly.
He nodded. Then they ate in silence, neither of them, once again, saying grace.
Finished with her food, Elizabeth had just set her bowl down on the lamp table beside her when her phone rang.
Her heart skipped a beat, then began to pound within her.
Startled by the loud sound, Drew pulled the phone from his back pocket and looked at the screen. He turned it toward her. It read: Mom Lawton.
Chapter 67
B
oth Elizabeth and Drew knew that the calls had been made out of desperation to know where she was—how she was.
The one aspect of her phone still being on and in their possession was something that, until now, Drew had not taken into consideration.
The phone was trackable.
Drew was now terrified. Turning it off at this point was probably pointless. It had to be gone. Somewhere they were not.
He looked at Elizabeth. He saw that she had seen the urgency in his eyes.
“What’s your pin number?”
“Why?”
“Can I have it? Please? I just want to read what she said.”
She gave it to him.
He read the one-word message to her. It simply said, “Elizabeth?”
Drew had what he needed. Then he said, “Your dad’s going to find me.”
“I just said that to you upstairs. But I don’t think—”
He held up her phone. “The police can track phones.”
Was it a look of hope or anxiety that crossed Elizabeth’s face? He couldn’t tell.
All he knew was that she was no longer speaking words to let him know that everything was going to be okay.
Maybe because she didn’t want them to be. For him.
He stood up and began pacing. Thinking.
The phone can’t be here. Wait, what if I destroy it?
No. Can’t do that. They’d look where they last received tracking information.
I’ve got to get rid of it.
And that meant driving.
But driving meant having Elizabeth with him in the same car with her phone.
Can’t do that either.
He had an idea. A bad one. One that was going to make her hate him again.
He cringed at the thought.
Drew stopped walking and looked at her.
“I’ve got to do something that you’re not going to like. And … I’m…” He took a deep breath and let it out. “And I’m going to need your help. I mean, your cooperation.”
Concern crossed her face. “And what is that, Drew?”
The accusatory sound was back.
“I need you to stay here while I take your phone somewhere else.”
Elizabeth’s expression became calculating.
She’s wondering what that means for her. She’d be alone.
Drew hesitated before saying, “Elizabeth, I’m sorry. I have to do this.”
“Do? Do what?”
“I can’t give you the chance to leave. Not yet. Not until we figure out a solution.”
“Drew?”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything to you. I just have to make sure you’re here when I get back.”
Panic in her eyes. “Please, don’t tie me up.”
Tears.
“I won’t, but I have to have you trust me even though that’s near impossible for you to do.”
He walked to her and reached out his left hand. She hesitated, but like she had in the storage room, she brought both of hers to his and gripped him tight.
She was trembling.
He was in anguish.
Once she was standing on her left foot, he moved to her left side so he could partially and painfully place his right arm around her. He crouched a little and placed his left arm under her legs and hoisted her upward.
Again, she let out a moan followed by a whimper.
He knew. He knew that he was hurting her.
“I am so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he said, as he began to walk into the hallway.
Midway down, he approached a door on the left side. It was closed, and he’d have to rely on her to open it.
He nodded to the handle with closed eyes, not wanting to see her expression. But he felt her lean, and he heard the doorknob turn. With the squeak of the hinges, he opened his tear-filled eyes. As he walked in, he was about to ask her to flip the light switch, but she did so on her own.
The torture in his heart was that his captive was volunteering to help him keep her. He knew she had to be dying emotionally.
Slowly, he walked down the stairs. Once in the basement, he turned to his left and headed toward the rear of the house.
The basement was finished and attractive. And Drew was certain that Elizabeth was thinking that this would be where she’d be left alone.
It wasn’t.
There was a lone door on the back wall. It had an open padlock on it.
His mom’s darkroom.
When Elizabeth saw that they were passing up the furniture in the living area, she turned to see where he was taking her.
“Drew, no. Please,” she begged weakly. “Please, don’t lock me inside.”
There was no way he could apologize. He could only make a promise that he hoped she’d believe.
He stopped at the door. “I’ll be back, Elizabeth. I promise I’ll be back. I’ll let you out and we’ll figure everything out.”
TERROR FLOODED HER system. The perpetual and intense emotional highs and lows—the cycling of anger and the passivity, the trust and doubt, along with the frenzied feelings of love and hate—had taken their toll.
She felt weak.
His promise that he’d be back, and that they’d figure things out, had sounded hollow in
her ears.
In her mind, there was every possibility that Drew was seeing this as his out. He could lock her up in the room and just leave her to die. He’d come back someday when he knew the heat was off him and remove….
She began to cry. She grabbed Drew in a fierce hug, her tears soaking into his shirt.
“Drew, please,” she begged again. “Please, be Mark again … my Mark. Love me. Don’t do this.”
She felt his chest convulse. Then she heard the sob.
“I hate this,” he said with a rasp. “I hate this to hell and back.”
“Then don’t. You don’t have to.”
His voice became hushed. “I have to.”
He lifted out the padlock and opened the door. The scent of film developer wafted from the room.
It was dark. As it was designed to be. No windows.
“Top switch,” he said quietly.
She lifted her head from his shoulder and reached out with a trembling arm.
When she flipped the switch up, there was a bright flash of white light, a soft, audible “tink,” and then nothing.
The filament in the bulb had reached the end of its life. And with that flash, she felt as though she may have reached the end of hers, as well.
No! I’m going to be alone in blackness!
But then she heard “Try the bottom switch.”
With the upward flick, the room was illuminated with red. It was enough light to see the whole room. It was a decent-sized work area, with a counter that wrapped around the entire perimeter. In the middle of the room, there was a large metal table with multiple shallow trays. There was also a padded armchair on wheels. Elizabeth knew that was her destination.
She allowed him to gently place her in the chair.
He looked at her, sadness in his eyes.
“I promise I’ll come back for you, Elizabeth. I very much need you to live. There’s no way you can possibly know how much you mean to me.”
With those words, he turned and walked from the room, padlocking the door behind him.
That Dark Place Page 38
