by Matt Lincoln
“Call us if you need anything, alright?” I urged him, but he didn’t respond. He just stared blankly at the empty space in front of him.
Miranda and I quickly filed out of the room. We walked in silence back to the elevator.
“You think he was mad at us?” I asked once we were inside. “I’d understand if he blamed us for this. It’s our case. This wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t been investigating.”
“I don’t know,” Miranda crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe he is, but I think more than anything, he’s mad at himself.”
We fell back into silence after that. I couldn’t imagine how Harry must have felt. He needed his wheelchair to move around. Without it, there was little he could have done as he watched that stranger steal Amber away. Of course, none of us blamed Harry for not being able to stop him, but there was no doubt in my mind that he was blaming himself.
Even though it was past one in the morning now, the streets were still congested as party-goers stumbled into and out of bars and gamblers hopped from one casino to the next. I’d often heard New York described as “the City that Never Sleeps,” but in my opinion, that moniker more closely suited Las Vegas. Night was when Las Vegas truly came to life, and it stayed that way until the crack of dawn.
I stifled a yawn as Miranda pulled into the office’s parking lot. My eyes were heavy, and my entire body was starting to feel weary, but I didn’t want to go to sleep yet. I stretched as I got out of the car. I hoped the action would help energize me, but I still felt just as tired after.
“Maybe Fiona’s found something,” Miranda suggested, though she didn’t sound like she believed it.
“Yeah, maybe,” I agreed bleakly.
We made our way into the building and up the elevator. I punched my door code into the keypad at the entrance before pushing the door open. I could smell something cooking as soon as I stepped through the double doors.
“Junior, you’re back,” Fiona called as she approached me. She’d been standing by the desks and speaking to Wallace when we came in. His expression was serious, and now that I turned to look at Fiona, her expression seemed tense as well. “Eliza’s awake. She’s making us dinner.”
“She’s doing what?” I asked blankly. Her voice sounded cheerful, but I could see the fear in her eyes.
“Let’s go talk in my office,” she said quickly as she dragged me into her office by the arm. “You come too, Miranda.” She closed the door softly behind her once we were all inside.
“What’s happening?” Miranda asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
“Eliza’s not doing well,” she replied quietly. “She woke up and then suddenly got up and rushed into the bathroom before we could stop her. I was about to go in to check on her, but then she came out and apologized for making a fuss. We were worried she’d gone in there to do something crazy, but it looked like she just fixed her makeup.”
“That’s weird,” Miranda whispered.
“Yeah, it really is,” Fiona nodded. “Then she said she wanted to thank us for being so kind to her and offered to make dinner. We told her she really didn’t have to, but she insisted. She started rummaging through the fridge and all the cabinets, but there wasn’t much since we just moved to this office. She looked like she was starting to panic. So Wallace sent me out to buy some groceries. She’s been completely calm ever since, which I don’t have to explain to you really isn’t a good sign.”
“She’s in shock,” I surmised.
“Yeah,” Fiona agreed. “Nelson thinks she’s using cooking as a coping mechanism for what happened, like trying to pretend nothing’s wrong. None of us have mentioned anything about what happened since we aren’t sure how she’ll react. That’s why I dragged you two in here. I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t accidentally say anything.”
“So, we just pretend everything’s okay?” Miranda asked incredulously.
“I guess,” Fiona shrugged. “Until we get a lead or Charlie gets here. Nelson thinks it’s best we don’t do anything to upset her for now.”
“This is so messed up,” Miranda growled. “I’m gonna go talk to Wallace. I can’t stand just sitting here. There’s got to be something we can do.”
She stormed out of the office. I reached out to stop her, worried that she might accidentally upset Eliza stomping around like that, but she was gone in a flash. I sighed in frustration. I turned to say something to Fiona, but my words died in my throat when I saw tears in her eyes.
“Whoa, hey, what’s wrong?” I asked as I hurried to shut the door Miranda had thrown open.
“She’s right,” Fiona sniffled. “I hate that we’re just standing around helpless. All we have is a phone call. That’s our only lead. Wallace told me to trace it, but no matter what I try, I can’t, and it’s all my fault that we’re just sitting here.”
“Stop,” I cut off her rambling as I took her hands in mine. “This isn’t your fault. You’re an amazing technical analyst. We all know that, but that doesn’t make you a magician. No one is blaming you.”
“I know,” she nodded. “But this is Charlie’s family. How can I let him down?”
“You won’t,” I insisted. “We just need a little more information about who took her. I know that once we have that, you’ll be able to find her. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that you will.”
“You’re just saying that,” she grumbled, though I could see that she was trying to hide a smile.
“I’m really not,” I murmured as I leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. “I have total faith in your abilities.”
“Get out of my office,” she smirked. Her cheeks were tinged red as she blushed. “You’re distracting me.”
I smiled before doing what she asked, closing the door softly behind me. I really did have full faith in her abilities as a data analyst, and by now, I’d learned how to diffuse her anxiety spirals and get her back on track.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Miranda suddenly appeared beside me, parroting my earlier words in a mocking imitation of me. “And here I thought you two were trying to be subtle. You remember her office is made of glass, right?
I couldn’t keep the blush off my face.
“Whatever,” I smiled at her. “Did you get anything from Wallace?”
“Nope,” she sighed. “He put out an APB with the suspect’s description that we got from Harry and for the brown delivery truck. Tips are starting to pour in, but as usual, most of them will be false. And even for the legit ones, it’s gonna take us a while to sort through them.”
“We should get started then,” I declared. Even if it did end up being a fruitless endeavor, I wanted to do whatever I could to help Eliza. I’d met her a few times over the holidays, and she’d always been unbelievably kind and selfless. It was painful to see her acting the way she was now, and I wanted to find Amber and reunite their family as soon as possible.
33
Charlie
I jerked awake for the third time that hour. I’d finally dozed off about four hours into the flight, but I hadn’t been able to get any rest. As soon as I started to drift to sleep, I’d hear Eliza’s screams again. Sometimes I’d hear Amber screaming, too. I knew it was just my imagination since I hadn’t heard Amber’s voice on that phone call at all. The combination of stress and sleep deprivation must have been messing with my head.
At the fifth hour, I finally decided enough was enough, and I headed to the back of the plane toward the galley. It was little more than a small fridge, considering it was a small jet only used by our agency, but I’d once seen a bottle of whiskey back there. I crossed my fingers as I opened the fridge, hoping it would still be there, and silently rejoiced when I saw that it was.
I wondered vaguely whose it was as I pulled it out of the refrigerator. Maybe Miranda’s. I’d never seen Junior drink on the plane, though I was usually asleep. Between her and Patel, I’d bet on it being hers. I took a plastic cup from one of the cabinets overhead before returning t
o my seat. Normally, I wouldn’t consume straight hard liquor like this, but I really needed to sleep. The odds were high that I’d be jumping into action the moment I touched down in Las Vegas, and I wouldn’t be able to help Amber if I was dead on my feet from lack of sleep.
I poured myself a finger’s worth before knocking it back like a shot. I repeated this action three more times, grimacing as the harsh liquid burned my throat. After the fourth one, my head started to swim, and I screwed the top back on the bottle. The gentle swaying of the plane felt soothing as I laid down across the seats and closed my eyes. I worried I might hear Eliza’s voice again, but to my relief, I didn’t. In fact, nothing at all came to mind as I gradually drifted to sleep.
Several hours later, I was jolted awake by the thud as the plane landed. I looked around in confusion before the events of the previous day came rushing back to me. I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I had a slight headache, an indication that I hadn’t slept enough to feel rested. On the other hand, though, I had been out deeply enough that I’d completely missed the pilot’s announcement that we would be landing soon.
I stood unsteadily while the plane was still moving. The seatbelt light was still on, but I’d already slept through the entire landing procedure, so I figured there was no point in following the rules now. I moved into the tiny bathroom to splash some water on my face. There were dark circles under my eyes, and my hair was disheveled. I ran my hands through it a few times in an attempt to tame it and decided to call it good once it was no longer sticking up in multiple directions. I moved back into the cabin to retrieve my bag, but suddenly remembered I didn’t have one with me. I’d rushed straight to the airport from the police station without anything but my phone, wallet, and the clothes on my back.
I suddenly realized that now that I was back on the ground, I should have service again. I hastily pulled my phone out of my pocket to check for updates from my team, but was disappointed to discover my phone’s battery had died at some point during the flight. I cursed quietly to myself. It had been nine hours since I’d gotten that phone call, and I’d been unable to communicate with anyone while I was on the plane. There was no telling what might have happened within that time frame.
Twenty minutes later, I was buzzing with anxious energy as I stepped off the plane. It was early in the morning. I wasn’t sure exactly what time it was since my phone was dead, but judging by the way the sun was just starting to crest over the horizon, it was probably around five in the morning. A few yards away from the airplane, a sleek black car was parked by the runway. Miranda was leaning against the side.
She walked toward me as I descended the stairs. We both made it to the base of the staircase at the same time, and I was surprised when she threw her arms around me in a hug.
“Are you okay?” she asked, checking me over as if looking for injuries.
“I’m fine,” I answered quickly.
“What happened to your hand?” she gasped. I looked down to see what she was talking about and blinked in surprise. The knuckles on my right hand were bruised, swollen, and covered in blood. I actually hadn’t noticed.
“I beat up the leader of the organization,” I answered honestly. Miranda’s eyes widened in shock. “After he laughed about taking Amber.”
“Oh, well, okay then,” Miranda chuckled bitterly. “But you’re okay?”
“I will be,” I nodded. “How’s Eliza? Have you guys made any progress?”
“She’s coping,” Miranda bit her lip nervously. “It’s honestly not pretty, Charlie. She’s alternating between being a hysterical mess and pretending like nothing’s wrong. And no, not really. Fiona’s been up all night practically pulling her hair out trying to find any kind of lead, but it’s rough going.”
My heart fell at the news. I had sincerely hoped they would have found something by now.
“Okay,” I nodded. “She’s still at the office, right? Let’s go.”
She led me to the car and slid into the driver’s seat. I got into the passenger’s seat without protest. I didn’t feel like driving right now, and anyway, I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea with my hand like this. I tried flexing it once I was in the car and found that I was having trouble moving it without pain. I was certain it hadn’t been this swollen last night when I’d drunk that whiskey, so it must have gotten worse as I slept. I’d been so focused on Eliza and Amber that I must have just ignored the pain. The four shots I’d taken had probably helped on that front. Now that I paid attention, though, there was a distinct sting in my knuckles.
“Your hand okay?” Miranda asked as she drove out of the airport and onto the street. She floored it as soon as we were on the highway. I smiled bitterly as I remembered how she’d admonished me just a week ago for driving so fast.
“I’m not sure,” I answered. “It honestly didn’t look this bad yesterday. It doesn’t hurt that badly, but the swelling is making it hard to move.”
“We’ll have Junior check it out when we get to the office,” she suggested. “Besides Naomi, he’s the best at first-aid, I think. I’m assuming you don’t want to go to the hospital.”
“You assume correctly,” I replied.
She huffed out a small laugh, and we fell into silence after that. I turned to look out the window as we sped through Las Vegas. By day, the city looked so calm. Gone were the boisterous tourists and the drunken partygoers. Most of them, at least. All the bright lights and flashy billboards were turned off, and the harsh glow of the sun revealed everything for what it really was.
Anxiety clawed at me as we pulled into the parking lot of our office. I felt both an overwhelming need to run to Eliza’s side and an intense fear of how she might react upon seeing me. Would she blame me for what had happened?
Even if she did, I needed to face her. I was going to get Amber back no matter what, and I wouldn’t accomplish that by hiding in this car. I stepped out as soon as Miranda finished parking. We walked into the building together.
“We haven’t really been talking about what happened,” Miranda revealed once we were on the elevator. “I told you before that she’s been switching between crying and acting like everything’s okay, right? Well, Nelson told us she’s probably in shock and that we should try not to mention anything to her that might upset her. Just so you’re prepared.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I muttered quietly. If she was really acting this erratically, it might be difficult for me to talk to her. Nevertheless, I needed to try. I punched my door code into the keypad, then pushed the door open after the light turned green.
Eliza was sitting in the bullpen next to Junior and Fiona. All three of them were holding plates of food. Eliza was smiling, but her eyes were manic.
She looked up at me as I entered the room, and her smile fell as soon as her eyes met mine. The plate of food slipped from her hands and shattered on impact with the ground, and a second later, she was out of her chair and careening toward me.
“They took my baby, Charlie,” she sobbed as she threw her arms around me. I could feel her shoulders shaking as she cried.
“I’m going to get her back, okay?” I assured her gently.
“I know,” she responded as she pulled away from me, wiping at her eyes. “I know you will. Are you tired? You must be tired after that long flight. Do you want some breakfast?”
She was behaving erratically. I glanced behind her at where Junior and Fiona were still sitting in the bullpen, both holding plates piled high with pancakes, eggs, and bacon. This must have been what Miranda meant about her acting like nothing was wrong. Eliza was a professional chef and often used cooking as a way to relax when she was stressed.
Fiona suddenly set her plate aside and walked up to us.
“Hey, Eliza,” she smiled warmly at her. “Why don’t we go into the break room for a little while? Charlie needs to get up to speed on everything, so while he does that, would you mind teaching me how you made those pancakes? Mine always turn out so flat, and I’d lo
ve to know how you get them to come out so fluffy.”
Eliza brightened immediately at that and quickly dabbed her face clean with her sleeve.
“Of course!” she beamed. “It’s really easy once you know the trick. I’ll show you.” Fiona carefully linked her arm through Eliza’s before leading her away toward the break room. She glanced back at me over her shoulder and threw me a sympathetic smile.
I mouthed a silent thank you, and she and Eliza headed into the break room.
“Okay,” I sighed. “Tell me what’s happened since last night.”
“Eliza’s been here since about eight,” Junior responded quietly. “At first, she was completely inconsolable. Eventually, though, she started acting strangely and kept insisting on making us meals. We even ran out and bought ingredients and an electric stove. Nelson thought that cooking was helping to distract her, so we all just went along with it.”
“I can see that,” I muttered as I glanced toward the break room. I couldn’t imagine how she must have felt when she found her father bleeding out on the floor and couldn’t find her daughter. It was no wonder she was in bad shape. “What about the kidnapper?”
“Not much to say, I’m afraid,” Junior grimaced. “Fiona’s been working herself to the bone, trying to find anything she can. Nelson is with Wallace in his office. They’re working with the local police to see if they can find any leads. Naomi called us a few hours ago. She said she convinced the Bermuda police to allow her to continue the investigation even after you assaulted the suspect. Anyway, she said that she thinks the supplier might be the one really in charge and that Davis didn’t know where Amber was. Apparently, he gave his man pretty vague instructions.”
“Great,” I snarled sarcastically. So we were potentially dealing with a rogue agent within an unstable organization.
“Have you spoken to Harry?” I asked. “How is he?”
“He’s okay,” Junior answered. “The perpetrator shot him after taking Amber. The bullet hit his lung, but the doctor said he should make a full recovery.”
