Little Lost Things

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Little Lost Things Page 24

by Eleanor Chance


  Grace scanned the crowd seated and saw several reporters wipe their eyes. If her words had touched them, maybe she had reached Mara.

  She looked directly at the camera. “Johnny, we miss you and need you to come home. Don’t believe the lies Mara tells you. She’s a dangerous criminal who only cares about herself. Do what you can to contact us or escape. We’ll be waiting to welcome you with open arms. Auntie Alec and I wrapped your Christmas presents. They’re waiting for you under the tree. We love you more than you can imagine. Please, come home.”

  Grace turned without another word and rejoined Ryan and Steph. Several reporters raised their hands. Scott went back to the podium and began taking their questions, but Grace heard little of what they said as she silently prayed that Johnny and Mara had heard her plea.

  * * *

  Wes followed Steph out of the press room and tapped her on the shoulder.

  “May I speak with you? It won’t take long,” he asked quietly.

  Grace and Ryan heard him and stopped. “We’ll wait in the car,” Grace said and tugged on Ryan’s arm.

  Steph turned to face Wes. “Did you tell anyone about the body?” he asked.

  Steph looked down and pushed a ball of lint around on the carpet with the toe of her shoe. “I told Grace.”

  Wes squatted in front of her, and she lifted her eyes to his. “I’m not angry. Did she go to the ME’s lab?” Steph glanced away, and that told Wes all he needed to know. “I thought telling Grace about discovering that body was a terrible idea, but I was wrong. Dr. Forest filed his results in record time without mentioning her name. We probably wouldn’t have been able to hold the press conference until tomorrow if Grace hadn’t verified that the body wasn’t Johnny’s.”

  “Will we get in trouble? Have we committed a crime by interfering in an active investigation?” Her words tumbled out in a rush.

  Wes stood, and Steph’s eyes followed him. “No, it was an accident that you found out, and I won’t tell anyone. I’m sure the ME won’t. Your family isn’t the only one relieved that boy wasn’t Johnny. We all were. We’re doubling our efforts to find him. We have carte blanche from the top to use whatever resources we need. I will find your brother. I’m not supposed to say that, but it’s true.”

  “Thank you, Wes.” She wiped her eyes and smiled at him. “This has been an insane day. Did you hear about my sister’s babies?”

  “I did. Congratulations. I’m thrilled your family has a happy event to focus on in the middle of this ordeal. I’ll make sure to end this so you can meet your niece and nephew as soon as possible. Are you coming back to the tech lab tomorrow?”

  Steph shook her head. “After what happened today, I need to keep my distance for a bit. I’m too emotionally invested in this investigation. I’m sure we’ll still see each other, and you better promise to keep us notified of any new leads.”

  “You have my word.”

  “I’d better go. My parents are waiting. Bring my brother home, Wes. I’m counting on you.”

  Wes watched her go and felt the weight of his obligation more than he had since arriving in Richmond. Failure wasn’t an option. If he had to work 24/7, he was going to lock up Mara and return that boy to his family.

  * * *

  Mara threw the TV remote at the screen after the replay of the press conference on the ten o’clock news.

  “Hey, that TV’s my only connection with the outside world from this prison,” Johnny said.

  Mara swung around and glared at him. “Don’t you see what this means? For $200K, everyone in Richmond is going to be hunting me. Hell, I’d turn myself in for that kind of cash if it wouldn’t mean prison time.”

  Johnny shrugged and pretended not to care, but secretly, he was thrilled. Seeing his mom and dad, and Steph had gotten to him. The fact that he’d gotten so mad over them hiding his past from him no longer made sense to him. The Walkers were amazing parents who loved him, and Mara didn’t. Even more, he loved them and wanted to go home.

  The press conference meant they were searching for him again. It gave him hope of getting away from Mara. She’d been right about the reward. For that much money, people would be falling over themselves to find him.

  Mara picked up the remote and handed it to Johnny. “Do what you want. I’m going to bed.”

  “Can I get on the laptop?” he asked eagerly.

  “Just to play games. No internet. And don’t stay up too late. You’ve complained about your head all day. You need to sleep.”

  She went to her room without another word. Johnny dropped the remote on the couch and got up to figure out how to carry the laptop to his room without using the backpack. He tried tucking it under his arm, but it kept slipping. He gave up after two more tries and unzipped Mara’s backpack. Four baggies filled with white pills tumbled to the floor.

  He quickly shoved three of the baggies into the backpack and lifted the fourth close his face to get a better look. The tablets were just like the ones Mara had been giving him for pain since his seizure. There must have been hundreds of tablets, but Mara told him she only had a few left. They had to be opiates, and he was afraid to imagine where Mara had gotten them.

  His gut tightened as he put the last baggie back with the others and zipped up the backpack. If Mara was desperate for money, she probably stole those pills to sell. Johnny hated to think that she’d had them since kidnapping him. His health teacher had talked about the street-value of opiates and how addicting and dangerous they were. Mara could make a boatload of cash from selling them, but what kind of people would buy them?

  He gave up on the laptop and went to his room. He needed to be as far from that backpack as he could get. If Mara had lied about the pills, was anything else she’d told him true? If Mara was dealing drugs, it meant Johnny could be in danger from more than her crazy temper. He dropped onto his bed and lay in the dark trying to figure out a way to escape. Getting away from Mara had become about more than homesickness. His survival might depend on it, and he could be running out of time.

  * * *

  Grace checked the hour on her phone for the tenth time, making sure not to let the glow disturb Ryan. He’d only been asleep for an hour. Her phone said three-twelve, only seven minutes later than the last time she’d checked. It felt more like hours. The ‘magic pill’ she’d taken to sleep had done nothing but give her dry mouth. She stifled a groan and got up for some water.

  She’d been keeping the house lit up like a Christmas tree during the night since Johnny’s abduction. Ironically, the only lights she turned off each night were on the Christmas tree. Even though Ryan had tried to convince her that it was safe to keep them on, she didn’t want to tempt fate with the way their luck was running. She couldn’t have Johnny come home to find she’d burned down their house.

  She carried her glass of water to the living room and switched on the surge-protector behind the tree. She sat cross-legged in front of the quilted skirt that Ryan had inherited from his grandmother and sipped her water. Admiring the glowing tree in the darkness had always brought her comfort. She needed it more than ever that year.

  The image of the body in the ME’s lab flashed into her mind. It hadn’t been Johnny. As long as he was alive, there was hope for them. She hoped someone in the world would mourn that poor beaten and broken boy. Had he died knowing he was loved? Him? Had he died alone? No one should have to die alone.

  Refusing to allow her mind to descend into dark places, she took another sip of water and called up memories of past Christmases. How fortunate they’d been to be surrounded by love and laughter. No matter what it took, she’d make sure Johnny would enjoy those experiences for the rest of her life.

  She longed to turn on her Christmas playlist but didn’t want to wake Ryan. She gazed around the room at the other decorations, but her eyes stopped on Alec’s book that Craig had left on the couch. Everyone kept pushing her to read it. She’d resisted to prove a point. How selfish of me, she thought and got up carry the book in
front of the tree to read by the light of her phone. What did she have to lose?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Wes’ gaze wandered over the group circling the conference room table. Everyone looked fresh and eager to get started for the day, except SAC Michaels. He looked about as bad as Wes felt. He pitied Michaels. He was roughly twenty years older than Wes and married. His wife hadn’t seen much of him in the past week. Wes had no one at home waiting for him. It made for some lonely nights, but his single life was simpler when he was on a case. His loyalties were never divided.

  He and Michaels had stayed at the office all night going over the evidence for the fourth time. They had more than enough proof that Mara was the kidnapper, but none of that was doing them a bit of good. Tips had skyrocketed since the press conference, but they were all dead ends. Everyone in the country seemed hellbent on collecting the reward money.

  Wes downed another gulp of coffee wishing he’d had time to shower before the strategy session to clear his head. Showering, shaving and putting on clean clothes would make him feel like a new man. He was in desperate need of that.

  “Mara seems to have fallen off the grid,” Michaels said. “Tips are pouring in, but they just confirm Mara’s identity. I need to know where she’s hiding. I hope she’s trapped in the city without necessary funds to leave and that she’s too afraid to show her face. The interview and press conference did their job keeping this case in front of the public.”

  Scott gave Wes a nod. He stood and started to pace while he picked up where Michaels left off. “In spite of that scare with the body that was discovered yesterday, I feel confident that Mara won’t injure Johnny.” He stopped and turned to the RPD chief. “Do we have any word on who the boy was?”

  “His name was Noah Jensen. He was sixteen years old. According to our informant, a local dealer was trying to recruit him, but he resisted. Apparently, the dealer doesn’t take no for an answer. We collected enough evidence against our primary suspect to take him out when we catch him.”

  “Good to know, Chief,” Wes said. “As far as Mara is concerned, even if she’s on the run, she can’t move easily or inconspicuously with Johnny in tow. We’ve got eyes on the airports, bus, and train stations. His medical issues also make traveling with him under the radar a challenge. According to the pharmacy, he’s running low on two medications, so we’ve red-flagged that as well. Does anyone have anything to add?”

  Wes held his breath hoping someone would mention any scrap of a clue he’d overlooked, but blank stares were the only response he got. He didn’t fault them. He was the one failing Johnny and the Walkers.

  “My team will revisit the rental house, the hotel, and the hospital to see if there’s anything we’ve missed. Let’s stay in touch and make today the day. Eyes wide open,” he said.

  The group dispersed, and Cameron handed Wes the report with the latest tips. It would have to wait until after his shower. He glanced at the digital calendar on the wall as he left the conference room. It was Tuesday. Day eight. He was determined there wouldn’t be a day nine.

  * * *

  Sunlight blasted in through moth holes in Johnny’s curtains. I’ll have to cover those if my escape plan fails, he thought as he rolled over to face the wall. He ran his fingers over his bump. It was the same size, but he was glad it hadn’t gotten bigger. Between his pounding headache and the anxiety over discovering drugs in Mara’s backpack, he’d been awake most of the night. He didn’t dare ask for pain medicine since he had no idea where it had come from. He’d have to make do with Advil and Tylenol.

  He laid quiet and tried to go back to sleep, but it was pointless. He gave up and went to see what Mara was doing banging around in the kitchen. She was in a terrible mood after the press conference, so he had no idea what he’d be facing. He used the bathroom and went to confront his kidnapper.

  “It’s about time,” Mara said, without turning away from the fridge when he came into the kitchen. “I thought you were going to sleep all day.”

  Johnny checked at the clock on the microwave. “It’s only quarter after nine.”

  She carried the carton of OJ to the table and set it in front of him. “You’re usually up before this.” She put her hand under his chin and tipped his head back. “You look like hell.” She picked up her penlight and shined it in his eyes. “I don’t like your pupils. They’re sluggish. You should be showing signs of improvement today. How’s your headache?”

  He lowered his head and locked his fingers behind his neck. “The same. Killing me. By the way, I can’t stand orange juice.”

  Mara put her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me? I can buy other kinds of juice.”

  Johnny raised his eyes. “I didn’t want to make you mad.”

  “Why would that make me mad?”

  “Never mind.”

  Mara watched him for several seconds. "I think you should stay in bed all day. Go lie down and I’ll bring you breakfast before I leave for the store.”

  Johnny went to his room without arguing. Mara’s concern over his eyes worried him. He knew what sluggish pupils meant. He should be in a hospital.

  She brought him two cinnamon rolls and hard boiled eggs, along with a glass of milk and a sports drink. She watched him eat for a minute before asking what kind of juice he liked.

  He swallowed a bite of the cinnamon roll. It tasted much better than the gluten-free garbage she’d given him the day before, and he perked up a little. “Grape or apple.”

  “Easy enough.” She reached into her pocket a took out two pills. “Take these so you can sleep.”

  He took them from her but didn’t put them in his mouth. “Where did you get these? I don’t have a prescription for pain meds.”

  “Leftover from an ankle surgery I had. You didn’t care when I gave them to you yesterday. Why the questions?”

  “Just wondered.” He set the tablets on the edge of his plate. “I’ll take them after I eat, so I don’t get a stomachache.”

  “Fine. There’s a bottle of ibuprofen on the kitchen counter. Take four in two hours.”

  “Two hours? Won’t you be here?”

  “I don’t know how far away I’ll have to go shopping. I’ll look for an out of the way country store. It may take a while. Stay in bed and rest. No computer. It’ll make your headache worse. I’ll bring the TV in here. It’s fine if you listen to it.”

  “Thanks,” he said and finished his roll.

  “Your color is better. Maybe you just needed to eat.”

  “That’s probably it.”

  He lowered his eyes to his plate while he ate, hoping she’d go. She stared at him a few seconds before leaving to get the TV. She was back with it a minute later and had her electric hair clippers.

  “What are you doing with those?” he asked, through a mouthful of egg.

  “I’m going to shave your head.”

  Johnny sat forward. “No, you’re not. Get away from me with those things. My hair’s short enough.”

  “The video from your escapade at the hotel has been all over the media. We have to drastically alter your appearance. No one expects a bald head. You’ll look like a cancer patient and people won’t question you. It will be easier for me to keep an eye on that bump, too.”

  Johnny didn’t have the strength to fight her, and he was too afraid of her to try. “Can I grow it out once we get to Portland?”

  “Of course. Finish your breakfast.” She set up the TV and picked up his dirty clothes while he ate. “They have a laundry room in this complex, but it’s expensive. We’ll have to wear our clothes more than once, so try not to get too dirty.”

  “I never leave my room. How am I supposed to get dirty?”

  “Good point. Hurry up. I need to get going.” She went out and came back with a kitchen chair and a large trash bag. She put the chair on the bag. “Sit here.”

  Johnny huffed but did what she ordered. His hair was already so short that it took no time to shave it. He cringed when she
went over his bump with the clippers. She apologized and was more careful on the next pass. Johnny was relieved when the buzz of the clippers stopped. Mara was quiet after she examined his head.

  “How does it look?” he asked.

  “Fine,” she said softly.

  Johnny turned and raised his eyebrows. “Bring me the mirror.”

  She went to the bathroom without reminding him to say please. She handed him the mirror for him to inspect his new look. He barked out a laugh when he saw himself. He looked like a freak, especially with his black eyebrows.

  “Like you said, it won’t take long to grow back, and it’ll be blond again. I’ll lighten your eyebrows when I get home from the store.”

  She cleaned up the mess and handed him the remote. She stared at him with a strange look on her face. “I’ll get back as soon as I can.”

  Johnny gave an exaggerated wave as she went out and fell back on his pillows. A few hours of freedom, he thought as she drove away, leaving him in peace.

  * * *

  Johnny flushed the pain meds down the toilet and took some ibuprofen and acetaminophen when he woke up from an hour nap. He went back to bed and waited for the medicine to take effect, so he’d have the strength to execute the escape plan he’d come up with during the night.

  He flipped through the TV channels while he waited but didn’t care about any of the shows that came in with an antenna. He wondered if that was what it was like in the old days before cable and internet. How boring, he thought and tried to find anything about his kidnapping on the news. All he saw was the tip-line number scrolling on the screen. He was already old news.

  When the medicine kicked in, and his headache faded to a dull roar, he went to the front door to see if Mara had forgotten to lock it from the outside. He turned the knob and pulled hard, almost falling off his crutches. The door didn’t budge. He tried two more times with the same result, and his heart sank. It would have been so much easier if he could have walked out the door and been long gone by the time Mara came back.

 

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