Gabby doesn’t find it as funny. “This isn’t really a laughing matter, Grandma. I’m in trouble here.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” I force my face into a sober expression. “What do you want me to do?”
“I’m just around the corner at the Gottlieb Estate. Can you bring me a ladder?”
“Why in the world are you in a tree at Ezra Gottlieb’s? Don’t tell me now, you can explain after we get you out.”
“So you’ll come?”
The question hurts my feelings a little. “Have I ever not come to rescue you?”
“No. Why do you think I called? Of course, you didn’t answer your cell the first two times so I had to call the shop. Luckily Mom was up to answer.”
I look on the nightstand for my cell, but it’s not in its usual place. “Not sure where my phone is. Just hold tight and we’ll be right there.”
“Thanks, Grandma. Oh, can you bring some hot dogs or something?”
“Are you that hungry?”
“Not for me, for the dog. I have an idea.”
Gabriella hangs up before I can ask anything else. I look to Emily, who’s still smiling.
“She’s changed,” Emily says, pleased. “I mean, she was always a bit sassy as a child, but dogs chasing her into a tree in the middle of the night, on Christmas Eve no less? My girl’s got guts.”
“You have no idea how much she’s changed.” I climb out of bed and start changing clothes. “Want to come with me?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” She skips out of the room. Her youthful movements trigger memories of her as a child. She had been an easy child, always happy and eager for fun. She looks more like that child than the middle-aged woman tonight. After losing fifteen years of her life in maximum security, everything delights her now.
I say a quick prayer, “God, thank You beyond measure for bringing my daughter back to me. Thank You for not letting her spirit break in that place. We are blessed beyond measure.” Almost as an afterthought, I quickly say. “And help Gabriella out of whatever mess she’s in tonight. I know You lead her where You need her to be, but please protect her. Amen.”
“You coming, Mom?” Emily calls up the stairs. She’s so excited to be on an adventure, especially one involving Gabriella, it’s contagious.
Jet bounces at my feet, caught up in the mood too. “You can’t come. If there’s a big dog that has Gabby scared, you’d be a one bite snack to him.”
“I’ve got the hot dogs,” Emily calls impatiently.
“I think there’s some meatballs in a Tupperware, too.” I enter the kitchen and stop in my tracks when I see Emily. “What are you wearing?”
Her grin nearly breaks her face, highlighted by dark streaks from some kind of make-up. She’s dressed head to toe in black, even has her light blonde hair tucked into a black knit cap. “You look like a ninja, or a bank robber.”
“Exactly. Thought I’d dress the part.”
I kiss her on her make-up streaked cheek. “Don’t worry, getting Gabriella out of scrapes becomes part of the routine after a while.”
“But tonight we’re breaking her out from behind a fence. You have no idea how many times I dreamed of escaping over the fence, how many schemes and plans I created in my mind. Tonight we’re breaking my daughter out. I can’t believe it. I’ll start the truck and get the ladder.” She turns on her heel, the Tupperware of meatballs and the package of hot dogs under her arm.
By the time I get my boots on and button my coat, (all regular colored, I’m not dressing as a ninja), and walk onto the back porch, Emily is securing the ladder in the running flat bed truck.
She looks beautiful in the lights from the back porch. She’s still too thin, but has gained some weight. Her color under the make-up streaks is still pale, but it’s lost the gray tones it had. The look of sadness and pain she carries everyday still lurks in her eyes.
My daughter is still the most beautiful thing in the world.
“Can I drive?” She sounds like she did when she had her learner’s permit, begging to drive whenever we went anywhere. She’d learned to drive in this same flatbed, but hasn’t been behind the wheel of any vehicle in years.
“Think you can still handle the clutch? It’s grown touchier over the years.”
“That wasn’t a no.” She runs around the hood of the running truck and climbs in, practically bouncing in the driver’s seat.
It’s been years since I’ve been a passenger in my own truck, and the bench seat feels odd under me, stiffer and less worn.
Emily puts the truck into reverse and I pretend not to notice the gears grinding. “Crap on a cracker,” she exclaims.
I laugh out loud and worry about my future. “You sound like Gabriella. Between the two of you, I’m not sure I can keep up.”
The gears grind again as she forces the shifter into first and pulls forward. The truck stalls and she looks at me guiltily. “I can’t even make the truck go forward, I think you can keep up.”
I cover her hand on the stick shift, the way I did when she was first learning to drive. With my instruction, she gets us on the road and we roar and grind our way to the Gottlieb Estate. Luckily it’s not too far, or my old truck may not have survived the trip.
Gabriella’s Charger is parked in the grass, right next to the fence, not on the side of the road where it should be. For some reason Emily takes the truck out of gear and slides through the grass towards the Charger.
“Brake, brake,” I shout. She randomly pushes on the pedals, so I grab the shifter and I force it into first. My beloved flatbed lurches, then stops a few inches from the fence. The Charger is so close, I can’t see it over the hood of my truck.
“Sorry, Mom.” Emily says. “I thought I should park where she did. I didn’t expect to slide in the snow.”
Her exuberant mood has deflated and I want it to return. “Well, parking on the road would have been fine, but this works too.” I pat her hand that still grips the shifter. “We’ll practice tomorrow, don’t worry about it.” I turn my attention to the windshield. “Kill the headlights. The house is still dark, so hopefully Ezra is sound asleep, but let’s not wake him.”
The beams of the headlights shine on a group of trees several yards away. Just before they go out, I glimpse a movement, a spot of red waving from up in a tree.
Without the headlights, the trees are hidden in shadow. “I think I saw her. Let’s go.” The creak from the door sounds amazingly loud in the hushed quiet of the snow covered night.
Emily’s door is too close to the fence to open, so she slides across the bench seat and gets out on my side. “I’ve got the hot dogs and meatballs,” she whispers loudly. I’m glad to hear her excitement is back.
Snow crunches under our boots as we follow what must be Gabriella’s foot prints down the fence. As we approach the trees, the dog holding her there begins to growl. We take a few more slow steps, and the dog snarls at the fence. In the semi-darkness, the Doberman looks terrifying. I drive past this estate at least once a week and have seen this same dog playing in the yard. He’s not a mean dog, he’s just got a job to do and he’s doing it well.
“Good boy,” I say to him. “What a good job you’re doing.” He stops snarling, but holds his body stiff, watching us intently.
The wave of red moves in the tree again. “See why I couldn’t get down,” Gabriella says. “He wants to eat me.”
“He doesn’t want to eat you,” Emily says, “He just wants you to leave.”
“Then help me leave,” she pleads. “My butt is going numb and I need to pee.”
“We’ll help you, but only if you tell us why in the world you’d break into this poor old man’s property in the middle of the night.” I’m all for helping her out, but this is a bit ridiculous, even for her. “You should be sound asleep with Lucas, or at least at home in your own bed.”
Her voice is flat as she says, “I thought maybe the car back there was the one that kidnapped some kids.” The tree rustles the few l
eaves that remain on the branch. “I’ll explain all about it, but please hurry. I’m about to wet my pants up here.”
Chapter 11
GABBY
When Mom answered the phone I’d been pleased and surprised. I knew Grandma would come help me, but I wasn’t sure how Mom would react. Judging by her ninja outfit and the obvious enjoyment on her face, she reacted just fine. Having another person in my life who is willing to help me out, no questions asked, is amazing. They’ll understand my reasons once I tell them about the car wreck and the missing kids.
They didn’t know that yet, and still they came.
My bladder is giving me fits and my legs are nearly numb from sitting on this branch, so I start giving orders. “Good to see you already put the flatbed near the fence. That should help.”
Mom smacks Grandma on the arm in a playful way. “See, I was right.”
“Do you think you two can place the ladder on this side of the fence if you are standing on the flatbed?”
“I think I’ve been handling ladders and my flatbed since long before you were born,” Grandma says a bit testily.
“Great,” I say breezily. “Once you get the ladder in place, then take the hot dogs….”
“Ooh, and tempt the dog away from you. I get it.” Mom is excited about the plan. “I’ll do that part.”
I try to squeeze my legs together against the building pressure in my bladder. “Please hurry,” I plead.
They crunch away to set up the ladder. It bangs against the metal fence, but I can see from here it’s standing upright. The dog is pacing anxiously between me and the ladder, wanting to guard us both.
“Come here, doggy,” Mom says. I can see her clearly at the fence, her all black outfit standing out against the bright white snow everywhere. Her hand is through the fence and she’s dangling a hot dog.
The dog looks at the treat then at me. “Go get it, boy. You know you want it,” I urge.
Mom tosses the hot dog towards the dog. He gobbles it in one bite. She sticks another through the gate and dangles it enticingly.
He takes a step or two towards the offered meat, but checks on me over his shoulder.
Mom tosses the hot dog and it lands about ten feet in front of him.
He sniffs the snow, and slowly, stiffly moves towards the treat. Once he finds it, he gobbles it up and looks to Mom for more. She’s ready and throws another instantly and closer to her, farther from the tree.
The dog doesn’t look over his shoulder at me this time, just goes for the treat. Mom keeps tossing hot dogs and leading the dog further away, all the while telling him what a good boy he is and how he doesn’t need to worry about the girl in the tree.
The girl in the tree begins climbing to the ground. I move as silently as possible, trying not to draw the dog’s attention. I make it to the ground, but hesitate moving away from the safety of the tree. Mom runs out of hot dogs and switches to meatballs. She and the dog are at the far end of the yard now and the ladder is closer to me than to him.
“You ready to run, Gabby?” Mom asks, using the same sing-song voice she’s been charming the dog with. “I’m going to give him a bunch of meatballs, and then you are going to run like hell, aren’t you girl?” she coos.
Meatballs start pelting the snow and I sprint towards the ladder. I make it half way there before the dog even notices I’ve moved. Once he sees me, he forgets all about the treats.
The dog and I both sprint to the ladder. I’m closer, but he’s much faster. Grandma yells for me to run, Mom tries to recapture the dog’s attention.
I scramble up the ladder, making it half way up before the dog reaches me. His body slams into the ladder and it slides in the snow. Grandma squeals as the ladder teeters dangerously.
I don’t think, I just climb. I get high enough to place a boot on the top bar of the fence, the same way I got over. I shove with all my strength on that leg and vault over.
The hard wood of the flatbed slams into me, nothing like the soft landing in the snow I had on the way in. My shoulder took most of the impact and aches deep in the joint. Most of the air was knocked out of my lung on impact. I roll on my back and stare at the moonlight filtering through the clouds overhead as I gasp for breath.
Grandma is at my side. “Couple deep breaths, and you’ll be fine.” I can barely hear her over the barking of the dog.
I rub my sore shoulder and gasp the cold air.
“Holy crap that was cool!” Mom says suddenly next to the flat bed. “You jumped right over it. What a night.” I turn my head to see her smile. She tosses another meatball at the dog. “Be quiet, she’s already out.” He snaps the meatball up and thankfully stops barking. He just paces the fence, making a mix of a whine and a growl.
Once I catch my breath, I sit up and slide off the truck bed. “Excuse me.”
I can’t hold it any longer. I hurry around to where the truck and the Charger are close together for some privacy, then unbutton my jeans and squat.
“Good Lord, Gabriella. We’re less than a mile from home. Couldn’t you hold it?”
Before I can answer, a “whoop-whoop” from a cop car cuts through the night. No lights, no sirens, we hadn’t noticed its approach and it pulls to a stop behind the truck. The headlights shine under the truck and I feel exposed. As quickly as I can, I finish my business and pull my pants back up.
Mom has gone still, a look of terror on her face. “Your son is the head detective in this town,” I whisper in her ear. “Not to mention Lucas. You have nothing to worry about.”
Her stiffness loosens a fraction, but she hangs her head and assumes a posture of obedience. I don’t like the look on her.
The cruiser door opens and I recognize the officer as the one that helped me the night Dustin was shot. I’m pretty sure he was at the wreck scene earlier tonight, too, but I’m not sure.
“Hey, good to see you again,” I say breezily as if we are at a party or something. “Officer Patterson, right?”
“Gabby McAllister, I was afraid that was you.” He sounds amused, not annoyed. “Dot, I’d recognize this trunk from anywhere.” Grandma’s still standing on the flatbed, shielding her eyes from the glare of the headlights. Mom is between the truck and the fence not making a move, and Patterson hasn’t noticed her yet. The dog just stands inside the fence, watching.
“Best truck in the county,” Grandma says just as friendly as I was. Patterson reaches inside the cruiser and turns off the headlights. White dots float in my eyes every time I blink.
The diffused moonlight and the massive light display offer enough illumination for him to see us. Grandma reaches for his hand to help her down from the bed of the truck. She even groans as she climbs down, making a fuss for attention. She even adds, “Thank you, young man,” for good measure.
Patterson helps Grandma to the ground, then his eyes drift over my mom and her face paint and dark clothes. He opens his mouth to talk to her, but I interrupt.
“What brings you way out here this late at night, Officer Patterson?” I sound innocent, but inside I’m shaking.
He cocks his head towards the big house and says, “You wanna guess?”
“I was investigating,” I say quickly.
“You were trespassing,” he corrects. “You’re lucky Mr. Gottlieb only let his dog outside on you and isn’t the type to own a gun.” He looks towards the house again and waves. In a shadowed corner of the porch, where the light display can’t reach, a gray haired man waves back. A whistle echoes across the snowy yard and the dog runs to his master.
I’m shocked that we’ve been being watched this entire time. “How long has he been out there watching us?” I ask with indignation.
“It’s his property, he can watch as long as he wants,” Patterson replies. He looks at Grandma then back at me, shuffles his feet in the snow. “I want to believe you have a good reason for this. Especially in light of what happened earlier. If you don’t want Mr. Gottlieb to press charges, you better start talking.”
“What happened earlier?” Grandma asks, her tone sharp. “Gabriella, what is all this about?”
I look to Patterson for help. Between the two of us, we explain about the car wreck, how I saw the kids taken away in a four door sedan. How I thought maybe the car in the driveway was the one that had the kids.
“I had to know for sure.” I finish my story. “If he wants to press trespassing charges, I understand, but I had no choice.”
Mom hasn’t said a word the entire time, but she speaks up now. “You will not be going to jail, not for any reason. You will not be arresting her.” A strange energy, a fierce strength flashes through her. I get a sense that we’re seeing a glimpse of the Emily she has been forced to be for the last fifteen years.
Patterson stares at her for a moment, shocked by her sudden outburst. I have no doubt he knows who she is. The entire town of River Bend has been talking about my mom’s release from prison. Most people are pleased that justice was finally served. A few nasty people think she’s a criminal just for spending time in prison, even if she was innocent going in.
I wonder which camp Patterson is in.
“Don’t worry, ma’am.” His voice is respectful and reassuring. I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s bad enough half the police force think I’m a kook, I don’t want them judging my mom, too. At least Patterson seems to be on our side. He continues, “I’m sure once I explain to Mr. Gottlieb about the complete situation and why Gabby climbed over, he’ll be more than understanding. I’m sure he wants the children found, too.”
“So Lucas and Dustin haven’t found anything new?” I ask. I’ve been trying to leave them to their work, but I’m dying to know what’s going on.”
“Patrol’s been quiet tonight, so I’ve been following their progress on the radio. They talked to Lauren Whitlow’s mother. Jared Whitlow was found at his apartment and the kids weren’t with him. McAllister and Hartley are interviewing him now. That’s really all I know.”
“So nothing. Crap.”
Message of Murder 04-Message in the Snow Page 8