Never Miss

by Melissa Koslin

  And then a sense of calm, like a warm blanket, fell over her.

  And images came—Lyndon’s smile when he joked with her, how he looked at her when he didn’t think she noticed. The intensity in his eyes when he told her he loved her. She hadn’t let herself dwell on those moments, but now they filled up the emptiness in her.

  She remembered Lyndon talking about where gut feelings come from, and she knew . . . She knew God was trying to talk to her.

  She needed to be calm and think straight, and he was helping her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  She took a breath, and her thoughts felt clearer.

  And then she remembered . . . When she was ten, her father had dropped her off in the desert miles from home. It was a test to see if she could find her way. She wandered for hours, and as the sun set and coyotes howled in the distance, fear overwhelmed her, no matter how much she berated herself to be strong. But then there was a sudden blanket of calm, and the few memories she had of her mother had come to her, and she was able to think clearly again.

  When she was very small, almost too young to remember, she’d cried for her mommy. She couldn’t understand where she’d gone. Her father wouldn’t come. He didn’t comfort—he wanted her to be strong, not to need comfort. But she was too little to understand. And then she thought she felt someone holding her hand. She closed her eyes and squeezed this hand so hard her own hand shook. And finally, her tears had dried. She’d always told herself it hadn’t been real, but now she knew—whether or not the hand holding hers was flesh and blood or not, it was the Presence that was real.

  As she thought, she realized she’d felt the same Presence many times in her life, always when she most needed it. She’d just never paid attention. This was the only reason she’d survived so many times, the only reason she was still alive right now. But why would God do that for her, someone who’d done so much wrong and had never even considered believing in him?

  The answer flashed across her mind—to do good, to protect others. He’d blessed her with skill so that she could use it.

  And she would use it.

  She started plotting her escape.

  thirty-nine

  WHEN NO ONE CAME TO THE DOOR, Lyndon knocked on the battered screen door, and the sound reverberated so loudly that Mac turned his ears back. Lyndon glanced over at the driveway where an old but clean light blue Buick sedan sat. She had to be home.

  He lifted his fist to knock again but paused at the sound of footsteps from inside the house. An older female voice called, “Whatever yur sellin’, I don’t need any.”

  “I’m not selling anything, ma’am,” Lyndon called.

  Nothing.

  Lyndon knocked again and stood there for a minute longer.

  He glanced down at Mac looking up at him with his wide expectant eyes. Then Lyndon glanced around the yard, thinking of what to do. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Mac’s ears perk. He listened carefully and thought he heard a door closing. Maybe at the back of the house?

  Lyndon stepped down off the porch and headed around the side of the house. At the back of the house was a raised back patio, and on the other side of that, against the back of the house, was a shed, rusty at the corners. The yard stretched out to a thinly wooded area, and a clothesline ran down the center.

  An older woman, with gray hair up in curlers, came out of the shed. Her terrycloth robe brushed the long grass as she walked. She glanced over at Lyndon and stopped.

  The wind gusted, and the clothes on the line started pulling out of their clothespins, scattering over the lawn.

  The woman dropped the empty basket she’d had on her hip and ran after her clothes. Lyndon rushed to help, and so did Mac.

  The woman glared over at Lyndon but continued gathering clothes. Many of the garments were light and flowy, so as the wind continued to gust, they blew farther and farther across the tall grass toward the woods.

  Lyndon gathered all the clothes he could, balled against his chest. He walked back over to the woman, who’d retrieved her basket. “I think we got everything.”

  The woman snatched the bundle of fabric out of Lyndon’s grasp, dumped it into the basket, and started rummaging. “It’s not here.”

  “What’s not here?”

  She continued rummaging as if he wasn’t there.

  Then Mac came trotting back from the edge of the woods with what looked like a bright turquoise silk scarf in his mouth.

  “There it is.” She took the scarf from Mac and examined it. “Covered in cat spit. Now I gotta wash it again.”

  She grabbed her basket and started toward the back patio.

  “Mrs. Griffin,” Lyndon said. “I came to talk with you.”

  She didn’t pause or look back. “Git off my property.”

  Lyndon followed. “Please, ma’am.”

  “Git.”

  The wind howled, and Mac crouched lower to the ground. Lyndon picked him up and held him to his chest. “It’s all right, buddy.”

  The woman glanced back at Lyndon holding Mac but then stomped up the steps and into the house. The screen door snapped shut with a bang behind her.

  Stinging rain began to fall, and Lyndon ran toward the patio to protect Mac. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much of a roof overhang, so the patio didn’t offer very good protection.

  The rain let loose and pounded the ground.

  Lyndon banged his knuckles on the screen door.

  “I’m callin’ the police,” the woman yelled from inside.

  “Please, ma’am. I need to talk to you. It’s about James.” He managed to keep the desperation out of his voice. If he couldn’t get something out of this woman, some way to find Kadance, he was at a dead end.

  She opened the door but not the screen door. “Who are you?”

  “A friend of Kadance.”

  Recognition lit her eyes. “I’m still callin’ the police.”

  “Because we helped you gather your clothes?”

  “Because you’re trespassing.”

  “I know you recognize the name Kadance. I know you’ve met her. James introduced you to her.”

  She crossed her arms.

  “She’s in trouble,” Lyndon said.

  “Jimmy’s helping her. She’s fine.”

  And now he had confirmation he had the right house and the right woman. “Why hasn’t he brought her to visit in so long?”

  She said nothing, but at least her scowl didn’t deepen.

  “Please,” Lyndon said. “Can we come in out of the downpour?” He was holding Mac against the door and keeping him mostly dry, but Lyndon’s back and side were getting drenched.

  “Who are you? How d’you know my Jimmy?”

  “I don’t really know him that well, but I know Kadance. She’s in trouble. I’m trying to help her.”

  “How in the world could coming to see me help her?”

  “Please let me in, and I’ll explain.”

  She continued to stare at him.

  Lyndon adjusted his glasses and then adjusted Mac in his arms. “Do I look like a threat?”

  She huffed and then pushed open the screen door.

  Lyndon stepped in but stopped just inside the door, trying not to appear threatening in any way. He kept Mac in his arms mostly to help put the woman’s mind at ease that he wasn’t a threat.

  “I’m sorry I’m dripping on your floor,” he said. Luckily, the door opened into a kitchen with linoleum floors, not carpet.

  The woman turned and walked around the kitchen table toward a hall. She returned with a big bath towel.

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Lyndon took the towel, set Mac on the floor, and dried him off. Mac lifted his head and purred.

  “That’s one big cat,” the woman said.

  Lyndon smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Why’re you walkin’ ’round with a cat of all things?” She motioned out the window. “And with a storm about to rage?”

  “First, Mac here isn�
��t one to be left behind. Second, I don’t have time to worry about storms.”

  She paused. “Well, you can just be on yur way. You parked out front, I see. Off you go.” She waved toward the front of the house.

  Lyndon remained squatted down with Mac, still doing his best not to appear threatening, though he had the impression this woman was not the type to be easily victimized. Which just reminded him of Kadance. “I came to see you because I need your help, Mrs. Griffin.” Then he added, “I guess I’m assuming your surname is the same as James’s, but perhaps I’m incorrect . . .”

  “I would never change my name after losin’ my dear husband.”

  Lyndon smiled a little. “I’m happy to hear you had a good marriage. This world needs more good marriages.”

  “On that, I won’t disagree.”

  Lyndon hoped she’d offer him a glass of water or a seat at the table, but she kept standing there looking down at him. She was going to be a tough one to crack. Again, just like Kadance. Every time he thought of Kadance, his chest tightened.

  “I think I see why Kadance said she liked you,” Lyndon said.

  Mrs. Griffin didn’t respond, but at least she wasn’t threatening to call the police anymore.

  “Would it be too much trouble,” Lyndon asked, “for some water for Mac?”

  “What kind of name is Mac for a cat?”

  “Kadance said it’s for Mac computers, mac and cheese, and Mack trucks. Smart, orange, and big.”

  “That’s Kadance’s cat?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What’re you doin’ with him?”

  “She was taken, and Mac was kind enough to stay with me.”

  “What d’you mean ‘taken’?”

  “Her family. They found out where she was, and they took her. That’s why I’m here. I need to find out where she is so I can help her.” Please, God, let her have some kind of information that will help.

  “How on God’s green earth would I have any idea where Kadance is?”

  “Because I think James knows.”

  “My Jimmy would do not one thing to hurt a hair on that girl’s head.”

  “I don’t disagree that he cares for her.” In his own warped way. Lyndon tried to phrase his words in a manner that might not be too offensive to James’s mother. Hopefully. “But I think his concern has manifested in a way contrary to Kadance’s preferences.”

  “Pretty quick with those shiny words of yurs. Like I said, Jimmy would never hurt dear Kadance.”

  Dear Kadance. She liked Kadance quite a bit, apparently. Good. That gave them something in common. Maybe he could use that to build some trust. He patted Mac’s rump, more like one would a dog, stood, and folded the towel over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “Mrs. Griffin, frankly, I’m better at being blunt, and I have a feeling that’s what you prefer as well.”

  She lifted her chin.

  “I’m in love with Kadance. She does not love me in return, but I do believe she counts me as a friend, which includes a certain amount of trust, probably as much trust as she’s willing to give.”

  “That girl is cautious, I’ll certainly grant you that.”

  “She has very good reason to be. She was abused as a child, and she lived through hardships I can’t even imagine while serving our country.”

  “I always figured she had a past. I never pried, though. Figured she’d open up in her own good time.”

  “I’m guessing she appreciated that.”

  “What does any of this have to do with my Jimmy?”

  “I’m going to keep going with the bluntness. James is involved with a domestic terrorist. Have you seen the news—the incident at the Capitol building?”

  Anger overtook her face like storm clouds. “Git out of my house.”

  Please let me play this right. “James wasn’t there, but he is involved. He’s a major player in the Voluntary Population Extinction movement, whose mandate has shifted away from ‘voluntary.’ They’re trying to exterminate the population with a new deadly strain of Ebola as a way to preserve the Earth. Kadance and I theorize that they targeted the State of the Union to throw the government into chaos and make it more difficult to fight the outbreak.”

  Lightning flashed in her eyes just as the wind outside howled. “Git out of my house. Right now!”

  “Did he give you a shot recently?”

  She paused.

  “He probably told you it was a flu shot or similar. But that’s unusual for him, am I correct? He’s a technology expert, not medical. Why would he be giving you a shot?”

  “My Jimmy could never do such a thing. He’s a good boy. And he loves Kadance. He’s gonna marry her.”

  “Please think about something, Mrs. Griffin. Has he ever done or said anything at all that didn’t seem to make sense?”

  “That boy says all kinds of things I don’t understand. Networks and subnets and all that other technical babble. Don’t make him a terrorist.”

  “What about when he visited with Kadance. Did you hear him say anything to her that didn’t seem to make sense?” Lyndon guessed it’d been a bit of a balancing act for James to keep Kadance in the dark all while dealing with his headstrong mother.

  Mrs. Griffin went still.

  “I’ve hit on something,” Lyndon said. “Haven’t I?”

  She walked over to the sink under the window, took a bowl out of the drying rack, and filled it with water. She bent over and set it on the floor.

  Lyndon said to Mac, “Go ahead, have some water.”

  Mac watched Mrs. Griffin cautiously but walked over and lapped at the water.

  Mrs. Griffin watched him.

  Then she turned and looked out the window to the storm.

  Lyndon quietly let her think. The only sounds were the rain pounding the roof and Mac’s noisy drinking.

  Finally, Mrs. Griffin said, “He told her how he’d loved his childhood. He said how he appreciated how hard his father was on him and how he owed him so much.”

  “Was that not accurate?”

  “His father was fair but tough. For good reason—Jimmy needed discipline when he was a boy.” She paused, still looking out the window. “But Jimmy never appreciated the rules we set for him. I’ve always thought Jimmy was still angry at his father.” Her voice had lost some of that hard edge.

  “But you never let yourself dwell on it. You’d lost your husband, and you wanted to make sure your relationship with your son was good.”

  She gave no response.

  “I truly believe James feels he’s doing the right thing,” Lyndon said. “In his mind, he’s saving the Earth and managing to save Kadance at the same time. He risked the anger of the leader of the VPE by protecting Kadance’s identity and trying to get her inoculated.”

  “He loves her.”

  “His actions show that he’s doing the best he knows how for her.”

  She finally turned to look at him. “But you don’t think what he’s doin’ is right.”

  “When it comes to Kadance, the only thing I care about is making sure she is free to make her own choices about her life. If she chose James over me, I would honor and respect her decision. But James isn’t doing that. I think he wants to be with her so badly that he’s not letting himself see that he’s hurting her.”

  Mrs. Griffin sighed, and her shoulders sagged.

  Lyndon moved slowly closer. “Do you have any idea where her family lives, where they might have taken her?”

  “She never mentioned her family, and neither did Jimmy.”

  “Do you know anything about where James is, what he’s doing, anything?”

  “He’s my only child,” she said.

  “Your and your husband’s life goal was to raise a good man, right? Don’t give up on that goal now.”

  “I don’t want him hurt.”

  “The last thing I’m interested in is hurting anyone. I just want to make sure Kadance is free.”

  She paused for several seconds. “I thin
k he . . . I think he might be helpin’ to plan another attack.”

  Lyndon wanted to curse. “Where?”

  “I don’t know. He said something about destroying false medicine, something about Atlanta, the last I talked to him.”

  “The CDC. They’re going to hit the CDC—that would significantly slow down the efforts to control the outbreak. Do you have any idea when?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “But he told me to make sure I keep the house locked.”

  “You’re not that far from Atlanta. Panic will definitely hit this area once people start getting sick.” Then Lyndon said, “Did he ask you to go on a trip with him?”

  “Yes,” she said. “He wanted to take me out West on a vacation, but I told him I’d rather go in the spring. He seemed awful upset that I didn’t wanna go right now.”

  “When did he want to leave?”

  “He wanted me to take a flight today.”

  “I need to go. I need to stop it.” He picked up Mac and headed for the front of the house.

  Mrs. Griffin followed him. “You won’t hurt Jimmy, will you?”

  “I’ll do everything possible not to. Thank you, Mrs. Griffin.” Lyndon tucked Mac under his jacket to protect him as best he could and ran out into the pounding rain.

  forty

  “YOU SEEM IN A BETTER MOOD,” Kadance’s father said.

  She kept her gaze on the book on the desk in front of her. “It’s not a better mood.” She paused. “It’s acceptance of realities.”

  “That has always been one of your strengths.”

  “Acceptance of reality?” She looked up at him. “Sounds less like a strength and more like simple lack of insanity.”

  He smiled at her in that way she’d loved so much as a child. It was full of pride, and she used to think it was full of love as well. Maybe he did love her in his own way. “You didn’t cry and scream as a little girl. You dealt with whatever was in front of you.”

  She nodded and turned back to the book.

  “James is here to see you again,” he said.

  That was what she’d been hoping for. She had a couple of plans, but the one more likely to succeed hinged on James. Careful about her reaction, she flipped the next page in the book. “He never did take a hint.”