Distracted: An Everyday Heroes Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)

by Michelle Fernandez

  “SO, babe, do you need help?” Spencer’s lips are close to my earlobe. “We can take a quick detour to the car.”

  “No, I’ll be fine,” I say. My mouth is closer to his ear and I lower my voice this time. “Besides, there is nothing quick about you.”

  “Then I guess we have more fighting to do later on,” he says, laughing at his innuendo.

  “I look forward to it,” I say in my flirty voice as I raise a brow. I grab my purse and swing it over my shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Hurry,” he says. “After my shift here, we can go on the Ferris wheel with Lily.”

  “I will,” I say and wave my fingers over my shoulder.

  “Hello, Sabrina.” The computerized voice on the other end of the phone line is distorted, and I can’t determine if it is a woman or a man.

  “Who is this?” I ask as goosebumps bring chills to my skin.

  “Who I am is not relevant at the moment. The gun I have pointed at Spencer and your precious daughter is what you should be concerned about.”

  My chest tightens and my heart stops. I frantically look around me and back at the booth.

  Being part of a private security company with ex-SEALS, ex-Marines, and former CIA operatives means I have been trained to think logically in a crisis. But when it comes to the people I love, it changes everything.

  “Wh-what do you want?” My lip begins to quiver.

  “I must say those two are very chummy. If I were Spencer and found out I had a daughter years later, I wouldn’t be as forgiving.”

  The sound of the grotesque voice makes me want to vomit. “Leave them alone.”

  “Tsk, tsk . . . Sabrina, you are in no position to give orders.”

  There’s a tap on my shoulder. I jump and my hand flies to my chest. Turning around, a woman holding her son’s hand is pointing for me to move forward to order. I smile with uneasiness as I step aside and let them go ahead.

  In all my years with the security company, this is the first time I have ever felt threatened. I wonder if the call has anything to do with the unfinished cases. And if so, I need to get a hold of Tyco or Booker somehow.

  Think, Sabrina, think. What would Rocky do?

  I look at my phone to see the caller ID. Unknown. Then I do the next best thing, press the icon to record our conversation, then quickly bring the phone back to my ear.

  “Please don’t hurt them,” I beg. My mind is spinning as I walk back toward Spencer and Lily.

  “Uh-uh,” the voice says. “That’s not a good idea.”

  I stop in my tracks. Fear twists in my gut. I’m being watched.

  “What do you want from us?” My voice is shaky as my vision darts at the many people milling around me. I want them to look at me and hear the distress in my voice.

  “I just want you.”

  My chest heaves and I clutch my stomach. “Me? Why?”

  “No more questions. Do as I say, and they will remain alive.”

  “Okay,” I surrender. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt them.”

  “I thought you’d see it my way.” The voice snickers evilly. “Do you see the pony ride?”

  “Yes.”

  “Walk forward. And no funny business. I’m watching you.”

  Straight ahead is the ride the voice speaks of. Each step will be a countdown to the inevitable. This could be the end of me, and I won’t see Lily and Spencer ever again. I want to run back to them, but I can’t risk them getting shot.

  “And if I don’t comply?”

  “Then you will be planning another funeral.” The robotic voice is sharp and angry.

  With the phone pressed to my ear, I can hear this person breathing. My palms are sweating, and my heart is pounding in my chest.

  “Please don’t hurt them. I’ll do whatever you want.” I have no other choice but to move forward.

  “Yes. Of course, you will. That’s what good girls do. And don’t get any ideas. Don’t send any text messages or signal for help. I’m watching every move you make.”

  I move slowly and cautiously through the crowd as I scrutinize every person on their cell phone. It could be any one of these people. I need to think like a forensic investigator and figure out how to get out of this situation, or at least survive it.

  I need to keep this person talking. Hopefully giving me some clue of who he or she is. “Can you please just tell me what it is you want from me?”

  “There is something you have, and I want it.”

  What does that even mean?

  I don’t move, at least not yet. “Is it money? I’ll give you everything.”

  Silence fills the line and I’m doing everything in my power to hold back the tears so I don’t draw attention to myself.

  I look over my shoulder, back to the booth where I see Spencer and Lily in the distance. I say a silent goodbye and send up a prayer that nothing will happen to them.

  “Keep moving, Sabrina. You’re wasting my time,” the voice snaps.

  Straightening my back, I walk toward the other side of the park. Each step I take, my life flashes before me. Lily’s birth. Her beautiful blue eyes. Her first steps. Her first words. Then there’s Spencer. Our childhood with the dares, yellow flowers, and the cast that started it all. The way he openly accepted Lily and not once hesitated to step into his role as her father. Loving her and me.

  “Okay. I’m here,” I say as my lips quiver.

  “See the trash can on the left?”

  “Yes.”

  “Get rid of your phone. Then walk through the trees. There will be a car waiting for you.” The call ends, and I’m left staring at my phone. This is it. The last piece of me will be left in the garbage.

  I throw my phone in the black waste bin and look behind me one more time. There will be no more contact with them, and no one will be able to find me.

  A tear falls down my face as I slowly move through broken branches and loose gravel down the slope between the trees. It’s at least a couple hundred yards through the trees, and the sound of the crowd dissipates. In the distance, I see an inconspicuous car.

  The black sedan with dark tinted windows idles. I can’t tell if someone is in the driver’s seat as I approach with caution.

  My footing slips on a rock, but instead of falling, an arm grabs me from behind. There is a prick on the back of my neck. When I turn around, my vision is blurry, but I am able to make out a needle in the hands of my abductor just before everything goes dark.

  Spencer

  “So, how’s it going?” Kenny’s voice draws me away from the people passing by our booth.

  “We’ve had many inquiries. Here is a list of names who will be attending and donating to the center,” Grant says, handing the clipboard to Kenny.

  Kenny takes it and flips the first page up. “One hundred and twelve people? This is a really good turnout. There are about seventy more names on this list since the last volunteers. Maybe I should have you two stay for the rest of the day.”

  Grant chuckles. “No can do, Kenny. The wife and I have a date tonight.”

  “And what about you?” Kenny asks me, angling his head.

  I look at my watch then back out to the people milling past us, completely ignoring Kenny’s request.

  “Looking for someone, Spencer?” Kenny asks as he rests the clipboard on the table and steps aside so Grant can continue passing out novelties.

  “Yes. No,” I stammer as I drag my fingers through my hair. “Just waiting for Sabrina to get back.”

  “Where are Sabrina and Lily?” Kenny inquires.

  “My mom came by with Luke and took Lily to walk around,” Grant answers.

  “And Sabrina?” Kenny turns his head side to side.

  I look at my watch again and I’m getting anxious. The park is swarming with people, and it leaves me wondering how long the lines are at the concession stand.

  “She went to get us strawberry lemonades,” I answer.

  “Yes, those are de
licious,” Kenny says.

  “Where the hell are you, Sabrina?” I say aloud. I stop a woman with a strawberry logo on her plastic cup. “Excuse me, miss?”

  The woman turns and faces me, her brown eyes meeting mine. “Yes?”

  “Where did you get that?” I point to her half-empty cup with a pink liquid.

  “Just on the other side of the park,” she says.

  “Are the lines long?”

  She shrugs. “Not that long. Maybe ten minutes at most.”

  Something is off. Sabrina has been gone for almost an hour. At first, I thought the lines could be long, or maybe she was chatting with someone. But I’ve called her cell a dozen times, and it goes straight to voicemail.

  “Thanks,” I say to the woman. “Kenny, since you’ve been roaming the park, did you, by chance, see Sabrina walking around?”

  “I did, but I didn’t get to say hello to her. She was talking on her cell phone, and I didn’t want to interrupt her.”

  “How long ago was that?” I ask, giving Grant a knowing look. It’s the look detectives share when our Spidey-senses go on high alert.

  “Not sure. Maybe forty-five minutes ago,” he answers.

  “Kenny, when are the next volunteers coming?” Grant asks.

  “They should be here shortly,” he replies. “Ah, speak of the devil. Here they are.”

  A man and a woman approach the booth. “Hi, sorry we’re late. Some crazy person ran the red light, causing an accident on Main,” the man says.

  “Was anyone hurt?” Grant asks.

  “The car that ran the red light took off. But the other two cars ended up swerving into each other, causing major traffic.”

  “Well, I’m happy you both made it safely,” Kenny tells them.

  The man extends his arm to shake our hands. “I’m Robert and this is my wife, Sharon.”

  “Robert and Sharon have been an instrumental part of getting the center up and running,” Kenny informs us. “Their daughter, Daisy, committed suicide several years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I say.

  “Thank you,” Sharon says with a sad smile.

  “It means a lot when the local police are the face of this organization,” Robert adds.

  “It’s our pleasure,” Grant says.

  “Will you be joining us at the Celebration of Life?” Sharon asks.

  A cool breeze chills the air around me, and I suddenly feel uneasy. I learned something in all my years as a detective—if something doesn’t feel right, something is definitely wrong. The bad thing is, I have no idea what that could be.

  I grab my coat from the chair and put it on. Looking at my watch again, I say, “I’d love to, but I need to find my girlfriend.”

  “Well, it was nice meeting you and thank you again,” Robert says to me.

  “Likewise.” I then turn to Grant. “If you see Sabrina, can you tell her to stay put or call me?”

  Grant nods and by the look in his eyes, he knows something is wrong. “Let me wrap up here, and I’ll help you look for her.”

  “No need. I’m sure it’s nothing. Sabrina is probably talking to Callie about New York and lost track of time,” I say as impatience and anxiousness prickle the back of my neck. Maybe I’m overreacting. Sabrina probably went to the bathroom or grabbed more munchies.

  My phone rings and I answer it without looking at the screen. “It’s about time,” I say aloud. “Hey, Buttercup, where the heck are you?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know, Detective Hayes,” says a distorted voice.

  “Who is this?”

  “Worried about Sabrina?”

  “Do you know where Sabrina is?” The tone in my voice is stern. Grant looks at me, alert and ready.

  “What’s going on,” Grant mouths and I hold up a finger.

  The warped voice laughs, and I don’t like it. “Of course, I know where she is. The question is, do you?”

  “I’m not playing games. Tell me where she is,” I demand.

  The unrecognizable voice laughs. “But I love playing games.”

  “What did you do to her?”

  “Distraction is a funny thing. It can help us disconnect, giving us the freedom we need to start over, re-energize if you will.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Distraction can also make you lose your focus and, as a result, be your enemy.” The last word lingers. “Let’s just say your enemy now has your precious Sabrina.”

  This asshole is now my enemy and I’m through with the asinine riddles, but I need to remain calm. I’m at a disadvantage and I can’t risk Sabrina’s life.

  “If you lay one finger on Sabrina, I swear to God I will kill you. Now, tell me where she is!” I’m seething, blood boiling as rage fills me. I want to destroy this motherfucker.

  Kenny, Robert, and Sharon stop talking and look at me. They know, and so does everyone passing by me as they stop and glare. But I don’t give a shit.

  Grant immediately grabs his phone and if he’s anything like me, he’s making calls and putting out an APB with dispatch.

  Silence stretches through the line. I’ve been in situations like this before when I’m negotiating with a criminal. But this time it’s different. Sabrina’s life is in danger.

  I need to focus.

  Everything around me slows down, my vision sharpens and I tune out the crowd as I close my eyes. There will be a slip-up, and this jerkoff needs to keep talking. I need to listen to every word.

  “Everyone has a weakness, Detective.” The stupid bastard laughs.

  Holy fuck! Enough with the damn riddles.

  “Is that so?” I reply with sarcasm.

  “Your weakness is Sabrina Kent and Lily. Such an adorable little girl. Too bad she can’t run away from me, being that she’s in a cast.”

  “You stay away from my daughter.” If I could, I would reach in this phone and pummel this motherfucker.

  “I don’t want your daughter.”

  “Then what do you want?” My question is more of a demand.

  “I want you to suffer,” the voice says, giving me some kind of clue. Suffer? What the hell? Is this an old investigation, a parolee, or maybe an open case I have yet to close and they want revenge?

  “Take me to Sabrina!” I say through gritted teeth.

  Instead of another ridiculous conundrum, the line goes dead.

  “Fuck!” I scream.

  “Lily is now with my parents,” Grant reassures me. “I have an officer posted at their house. She will be safe there.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  The booth has now turned into command central, and I want to stay in the area where Sabrina was last seen.

  A helicopter hovers over the area. Forensics roam the park grounds. Police officers are scavenging the parking lot and knocking on residents’ doors, asking if they’ve seen Sabrina. There are officers at Sabrina’s house searching for any clues but finding nothing so far.

  It’s dark now, and we are going on five hours since she went missing. Five fucking hours. My patience is running thin.

  Where the hell is she?

  I need to make another call. Sabrina told me they were her family too and maybe they can help. I scroll through my contacts, remembering I have her boss’s number. He gave me his business card at the funeral.

  He picks up on the second ring. “Booker speaking,” he answers.

  “Booker, this is Spencer Hayes,” I say.

  “Yes, I remember. Finally decided to take me up on my offer, Detective?”

  “Actually, I need your help.” I feel like a worthless prick and boyfriend. But how was I to know someone was out there watching us and wants revenge? I have to say it and I can’t sugarcoat it. “Sabrina is missing.”

  “What do you mean missing?”

  I go through the events, letting him know there was no warning sign until I received the call. Booker asks me questions to help trigger anything. But nothing. I still have no clue who
wants revenge and would go to such lengths to kidnap my girlfriend. It can be anyone since I have a laundry list of criminals I’ve put behind bars that probably want my head on a platter.

  “Why didn’t you call me sooner?” Booker questions.

  “I have my buddy from Sunnyville PD. He is a detective and so am I. We have our resources here, but now . . .”

  “Now, you’ve come up with a dead end.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Look, maybe I should have called you first. But I don’t think debating it now is going to help. Sabrina speaks highly of your company and I could really use your resources.”

  “Tell me what you and SPD have done so far?”

  “We checked everything. Typical protocol. But have come up empty.”

  “Have you called her cell?” Booker asks.

  What am I, an idiot?

  “I’m no amateur, of course I did. Many times. But it goes straight to voicemail.”

  “One thing I know about Sabrina, she’s smart. I’ve trained her and my team to leave breadcrumbs if they were ever captured. And she has a company phone.”

  “A company phone?” It would have been nice if he started with that.

  There are sounds of clicking on a keyboard. “According to the last ping, it shows the last incoming call was at Sunnyville Park and it lasted about ten minutes,” Booker says, and more taps fill the line. “The phone is still there.”

  I’m standing in the middle of the park, surveying the grounds. The park is empty now, giving me a better visual of what is in front of me.

  Then it clicks.

  “Check all the trash cans!” I bellow to the officers.

  Grant and the officers begin dumping the contents on the ground and rummage through waste.

  “Got something,” an officer yells behind me, holding up a cell phone.

  Grant and I immediately head over the officer’s way and I take the phone from his hand.

  “This is Sabrina’s,” I say to Grant and to Booker, who is still on the phone. I press the power button and her phone lights up. “Her phone isn’t dead. It was powered off.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Booker says.

  “Her phone can only be unlocked with her thumbprint,” I say.