She would need a name change in order to use her accounting degree and get a better job, one that could support her and Shannon better than being a dishwasher at Juan’s, but that would have to wait. She didn’t have the resources right now.
When her mind started doing its hampster-wheel worry thing, she shut it down. One day at a time. That’s what her helpers said. Don’t look too far down the road, or your journey will seem impossible and you’ll give up.
Again, Lori thought of her mom. Her lifeline. The one tie Garrett had not been able to sever. Widowed for many years, Shannon’s only living grandparent, her mom insisted on being part of her granddaughter’s life. Mrs. Stanton was the only person she knew who could stand up to Garrett.
Why hadn’t she been able to?
She racked her brain. There was no way Garrett could trace a call if she made it with her burner phone. She even replaced those every couple of weeks, just to make sure. She could keep it short and not tell her where they were.
Lori rose from the couch and walked over to get her backpack, which she kept hung out of Sadie’s reach in the hall. Quietly lifting it off the peg so as not to wake Shannon, she brought it back to the living room and rummaged in an interior, zippered pocket until her fingertips found it. Lifting out a small, silver flash drive, she placed it in her palm and sat back on the couch, letting the backpack fall to the side.
Good, it was still there.
Lori rubbed her thumb back and forth across the smooth surface. The repetitious movement was soothing, like worry beads. If push came to shove, this is what would keep them safe. It was her insurance. The only question was whether to let Garrett know she had it. She wasn’t sure how he would react. He’d be furious, of course. Of that she had no doubt, but what would he do?
Would he act in his own best interests and leave them alone, or would he simply not be able to control himself and explode? Was he more afraid of his clients, prison, or losing her?
There was a third option.
If he knew she had this kind of evidence against him, he might try to win both wars and come and get it and her and Shannon, as well as the proof she had against him. That sounded more like Garrett. He would want to win on all fronts. Keep his criminal clients happy, the money rolling in, and get his ‘property’ back. Because Lori knew that to Garrett, that’s all she and Shannon were.
She’d kept the flash drive with her at all times so far, but she’d have to find someplace safer than her backpack for this little insurance policy.
Lori tucked the small device deep into its pocket, zipped it, and went to put her backpack carefully on its peg in the hall. She checked on Shannon, who was still deeply asleep, and returned to the living room to do her evening security routine, testing each door and window, before heading to her own bedroom behind the kitchen. It had been a long day.
Thoughts of the wonderful afternoon she and Shannon had enjoyed came back, and Lori decided. Her mom had been so good to them and she’d be worried sick by now. She deserved to know they were OK. Things were going well.
Just one, short call.
9
Finally dark. Not too many streetlights. Garrett wasn’t fond of the dark, but at least it gave him some cover so he could sit there and watch. He was across the street and one house down the hill. In the Jeep, not Steve’s nicest car, but the one that was available. If Lauren looked out, she wouldn’t recognize it. It also had the advantage of not leaving a trail. No car rental record. If he timed it right, there wouldn’t be a flight record either. Both Snohomish and Carlsbad Airports were small. They were uncontrolled airports, which meant they had towers, but they weren’t manned 24/7.
Almost as old as he was, with over 5,000 hours on the airframe, the Cessna 210 Centurian was in superb condition. It got him in early enough to have some dinner at El Torito’s across the street from the airport while he waited for the sun to go down. No rush. He didn’t want to get to Jasper until after dark.
Lauren hadn’t been hard to find. Neal did his job and was back in Seattle now, doing whatever it was Neal did on his nights off. Garrett went back to watching. On the right of the house, light seeped around the edges of living room curtains, burnishing the railings on a long, low porch that ran along the front. He couldn’t tell if any lights were on in the back rooms, but the entire left of the house, inside and out, was steeped in deep, grey shadows.
What a piece of crap. Granted, it was a block from the beach, but it was a dump. He took in the scraggly lawn. No gardener, obviously. The worst cracker box on the street. Nothing like the huge, comfortable home he had given her in their safe, gated community. This whole house wouldn’t even fit in their garage.
It was all he could do to remain in the car. But he’d waited this long. He could wait a little longer. He needed to plan this carefully. No neighbors on the right—it was some kind of used clothing store. Windows were dark. Owners must have locked up and gone home already. Someone lived on the left, but there was a garage between the two houses. This worked for Garrett. No one in that house could see what was happening in this one. And the house directly across the street was for sale. Unoccupied.
What he couldn’t tell was if anyone else was in the house. He needed to get Lauren and Shannon alone. He started up the Jeep. Putting it in gear, he pulled away from the curb and headed towards a grittier neighborhood in nearby Santa Ana. An island of illegal immigrants—excuse me—undocumented workers, Santa Ana had some cash only motels with wi-fi so he could check in on grandma. He didn’t want to drive all the way back to Oceanside tonight. Neal said the battery on the tracking device was good for a week. He’d set a notification bell on his laptop to go off if the car moved during the night. She wouldn’t escape this time. Tomorrow he’d buy a baseball hat and get into position at dusk, to make sure she was truly alone before he made his move.
Make a plan and execute his plan. Later, checked into his motel, Garrett yanked off his tie and flipped open his MacBook Air, logging into the monitoring software. Good. Lauren’s clunker hadn’t moved and dear old grandma’s Lexus had been in her garage for hours. Everyone present and accounted for.
While half-heartedly watching the news, Garrett clicked on the audio files from grandma’s phone that had recorded that day. Most were of the potluck-at-the-church, or your-car-is-ready variety. He quickly deleted those. He almost deleted the rest but decided to listen to them all. His patience paid off.
Gotcha! Garrett immediately turned off the TV and turned up the volume.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Lauren, are you OK? How’s Shannon? I’m so glad you called, but should you? I mean, is it safe?” she asked.
Mrs. Stanton spoke in low tones, as if someone nearby could hear.
No one was nearby, but someone was definitely listening.
“Yes, I’m OK—we’re OK—I’m using one of those prepaid phones, so I think we’re OK. But, just to be on the safe side, don’t ask where we are or anything. I just wanted to hear your voice.”
Lori’s voice cracked.
“Yours, too, honey. What can you tell me? How are you getting by? Can I send anything?”
“No, not yet. They say not ever, but I’m working on it. I don’t want to live like this forever. I don’t want Shannon to grow up without her grandmother.”
“I know, honey, I miss you terribly, but you do what you have to do for now. I’m fine as long as I know you’re safe.”
Attempting to sound cheerful and introduce normalcy back into the conversation, Mrs. Stanton asked, “So, what can you tell me?”
“Well, I have a job—it’s just a job, job, but we have food on the table, Shannon has some books and toys, we’re in a nice town. I have some very nice neighbors. I may not call again for a while.”
“That’s OK honey. It’s more important for you to be safe.”
Garrett smiled.
Perfect.
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If all went well, by Wednesday, they’d all be home where they belonged. He’d keep them safe.
10
After giving her the short tour of the house and the rundown of her daughter’s routines, Lori gave Haley the phone numbers for Juan’s and her cell, then taped them on the refrigerator. Finally, she went to work, saying she’d be home by 9:30 or 10:00 p.m.
You’d think she never had a babysitter before.
Haley didn’t know how close to the truth that was. From the day Shannon was born, the only time Lori had a sitter was on the rare occasions Garrett needed her on his arm for a client dinner.
Sally needed Haley to watch Quinn only in the morning, so Haley had a few hours off before she got here. Kind of chopped up the day, but Haley didn’t mind. Quinn didn’t get cranky until late afternoon, and Ms. Wright said Shannon usually took an afternoon nap. It looked like a steady job she could work around her schedule. She’d have her parents paid off by Christmas. Then she could start saving money for a car.
Just like her mom predicted, Shannon was asleep when Haley arrived. An hour later, not quite awake yet, she came out of her room and reached her arms up to be carried into the kitchen for lunch.
“Mommy, home?”
“Mommy’s at work, Shannon, she’ll be home soon,’ Haley said.
Accepting Haley’s nonchalant proclamation, Shannon lay her head on Haley’s shoulder and sucked her thumb.
Her mom said she could have a late lunch or early dinner.
“You hungry? What would you like to eat?” Haley asked.
No surprise what she wanted to eat. Shannon immediately pointed at a stack of ready-to-make dinners on the counter. The three-year-old wanted what every kid she every babysat wanted: macaroni and cheese. Crack for the pre-school set. What was it about this orange powder that, when combined with water and butter, made the blandest little dried pasta pieces explode with flavor?
Luckily, it only took three minutes to make and she could do it one-handed. Might as well make two. It was her favorite, too.
Shannon, sitting up in her booster chair, kept up a steady stream of chatter between bites, most of which Haley could not interpret. She did a lot of “Wow! Really?!” and open-eyed wonder, interspersed with laughter, which seemed to satisfy Shannon that she was understood.
She could just not get over those curls. And her dimples. When Shannon smiled, she smiled with her whole, little body. The epitome of joy.
Epitome: a person or thing that is the perfect example of a particular quality or type.
Having fallen behind in a couple of her classes last year, Haley was playing catch-up with an SAT vocabulary building program.
From the minute Ms. Wright brought her daughter over to meet her at her mom’s house this morning, Haley was hooked. She would have babysat this little angel for free. Shannon made her entrance by letting herself out of her car seat and out of the car, bouncing up the driveway, throwing her arms around Haley’s knees when introduced. What a cutie pie!
After lunch, Haley cleaned up the kitchen, took Shannon in to use the potty, praised her, and took her back in her room to get dressed. Next, Shannon solemnly handed her a soft-bristle brush laying next to the soap on the bathroom counter. Haley attempted to brush her hair smooth, but after every stroke, Shannon’s stubborn curls bounced right back, forming her usual halo. Kind of like her mom’s, Haley thought, except her mom’s were light blonde and Shannon’s were dark.
Afternoon ablutions attended to, Shannon led Haley by the hand to the front room to play in the tent. Shannon didn’t have very many toys. She would have to ask her mom if she could bring some of the twins’ older ones. They were still in good shape.
Even with the ceiling fan going, the living room started getting warm, so Haley suggested to her charge they bring the dolls and her favorite stuffed animal, a soft, floppy-eared, brown and white dog she inexplicably called Eegee! outside on the porch and have a tea party with them. It was in the shade and there was always something of a breeze at the beach.
“Stay here a minute, I’m going to go get the tea, OK? Stay on the porch,” Haley said.
She quickly went inside to get the cranberry juice she’d seen when she made lunch. That would make a good ‘tea’ for the party. She hoped it was OK for them to have some. She forgot to ask if any food items were off limits.
When she got back with the juice, Shannon was right where she left her, but stood frozen and terrified, clutching Eegee to her chest as a clear pool of liquid grew in a spreading pool around her feet.
Putting the juice quickly down on the porch, Haley reached down to scoop the little girl up in her arms.
“That’s OK, Shannon, it’s no big deal, let’s get you cleaned up, OK? Come on, you can have your bath early. We’ll use those bath crayons. Which one is your favorite color?”
Even the thought of using her bath crayons, which her mother said she always begged for, didn’t get Shannon to say anything. She’d never seen a kid get so upset about wetting her pants. The mom didn’t seem like the type to get super mad at her kid for having an accident, so it seemed strange she’d be so upset. Shannon burrowed her face into Haley’s shoulder.
Maybe a dog or something scared her. As she carried Shannon inside, Haley looked over her shoulder to the front yard. No dog. In fact, no one in the yard at all, or on the sidewalk. Just a black Jeep coming down the street. When it reached the front of the house, the driver turned to look straight ahead, putting his sunglasses on in one smooth move, but before that, she could have sworn he was staring right at them.
Creepy.
11
Shannon was still awake when her mom got home, but she’d settled down. The bath crayons finally did the trick. Blue was her favorite. She wasn’t as bubbly as before, but had no more accidents, and played with her toys after Haley got her pajamas on her. But the little girl definitely did not want to go outside again.
Haley always updated the parents when they got home. What their kids ate, what they drank, how long they napped. An experienced sitter, she knew moms and dads appreciated knowing this information. She almost didn’t tell Ms. Wright about the incident on the front porch, but decided the mom needed to know. She started with the positive.
“Shannon did really well, Ms. Wright. She ate a good lunch, took a bath, showed me her toys. Just had one, little a-c-c-i-d-e-n-t on the porch. It was no big deal, I got her cleaned up right away. I rinsed out her pants and top and hung them over the shower rod to dry,” Haley said.
She hadn’t seen any washer or dryer.
“Thanks for letting me know, Haley. And please, call me Lori. Ms. Wright makes me sound ancient!” Lori said.
Haley nodded. Car keys in hand, she hesitated at the door.
“You know, it’s probably nothing, but just after Shannon had—you know—there was a guy in a car that kind of stared at us as he drove by. I thought maybe he scared her,” Haley added, “but I didn’t see him do anything. He was just driving by. He just looked creepy.”
Lori got very still.
“What did he look like?” she asked, keeping her voice level.
“Hard to tell. Dark hair, super pale skin. Wearing sort of a polo shirt, he was sitting up straight. Kinda tall. Must not be from around here, nobody’s that white in the summer around here.”
She wanted to add that she might want to check those websites that tell you if a pedophile or registered sex offender moved into your neighborhood, but didn’t think now was a good time.
Lori figured out what she owed her and gave her a little extra for gas, then told her she was off tomorrow, but needed her the rest of the week same time as tonight. She watched until the teenage girl was safely buckled in and her car started, then waved before closing the front door.
Immediately, Lori locked the deadbolt she’d installed and leaned her head against the door. No! This cou
ldn’t be happening. But Shannon hadn’t wet her pants in weeks. Haley’s description matched Garrett perfectly. Shannon was terrified of Garrett. If she saw him drive by, that definitely would explain her wetting her pants.
Shannon used to run to her father with unrestrained glee when he came home from work, but now she got very quiet when she heard his car pull up in the driveway. Even at three and a half, she knew enough to be afraid of him. She hated her father’s yelling. So far, Garrett hadn’t beat her in front of Shannon, but it was only a matter of time. He was losing control and the violence was becoming more frequent. He told Lori if she left again, he’d kill her.
Going back was not an option.
Checking and rechecking the rest of the windows as well as the back door, Lori finally climbed into her own bed, but she kept bouncing up to check on Shannon. Finally, around 2:00 a.m., she gave in. Getting up, she grabbed her pillow and a blanket and went into Shannon’s room. Scooching her sleeping daughter over a few inches, she lay down next to her, and stared at the ceiling.
Their wonderful afternoon with new friends at the Otter Festival seemed a very distant dream.
If it was Garrett in that Jeep, he’d be back. Of that, Lori was very sure. Anger slowly began to inch out despair. She had the flash drive. Maybe it was time to use it. She couldn’t predict what Garrett would do, but she wasn’t just going to go home with her tail tucked between her legs. Not this time. Shannon deserved better. So did she.
She must have drifted off to sleep for an hour or two, because the room was beginning to get light when she opened her eyes. Her unconscious mind must have put in some overtime. A plan of action began to take form. The first thing she needed to do was find a safer place for the flash drive.
12
Not having been awake most of the night like her mother, Shannon was up and ready for breakfast at her usual 6:30 a.m. Dragging her stuffed puppy behind her, she asked for a nana. After two bananas and a bowl of dry Cheerios—she’d run out of milk—Lori managed to fit in a shower, keeping one eye on Shannon, who was brushing what was left of Eegee’s fur, with great concentration.
Vanishing Day Page 4
