by Angela Evans
“Are you calling Michael?” the woman asked.
“What? What did you say to me?” Leslie demanded, her full attention now focused on the strange woman who stood several feet away in the trees.
“Michael should be here with you. You should call him to come here,” the woman said again as though it was the most logical thing in the world.
“Who are you? How do you know Michael? Do you know where my son is?”
“We’ll go there when Michael gets here. Are you going to call him?” The woman shifted and Leslie saw the knife in her hand, held in the folds of her voluminous gray pants and fear gripped her even harder.
Leslie didn’t know what to do. She had been about to call Michael anyway, so she dialed his number and lifted the phone to her ear with a hand that shook, never taking her eyes off the stranger.
Michael answered on the fourth ring, when Leslie had been about to hang up. “What’s wrong?”
She didn’t even know where to begin. “Lucas is missing again. I searched everywhere. Even the special place where you found him, but he’s nowhere.” Tears threatened to choke her.
The strange woman watched calmly, and Leslie became more and more convinced this woman had her son. She wanted to walk away and talk to Michael in private, but she didn’t dare take her eyes off the woman. If she disappeared, Leslie might not ever find her again.
“There’s a woman here. She said I should call you and that we would go to Lucas when you get here.” Tears were flowing down her face now and she did nothing to stop them.
“A woman? What woman?” Michael was running, she could hear it in his voice. “Wait! Is this woman really strange, all in gray and just seems extremely out of place?”
“Yes! Do you know her? Does she have my son?”
“I don’t know. I’ll be right there. Do not let her leave!”
Leslie wondered how she was supposed to keep the woman from leaving if she decided to go. All she could do was try to follow her if she took off, but she seemed so otherworldly, Leslie half expected her to disappear into thin air.
“Is he coming?” the woman asked.
“Yes. Who are you?” Leslie asked as she tried to move closer, but the other woman immediately backed up.
“I’m a friend of Michael’s. I’m here to make sure he does his job.” The woman turned casually and walked away from Leslie’s house, deeper into the stand of trees.
“What does that mean? Why are you doing this?” Leslie tried to keep the panic from her voice and failed. Her tears had stopped, and she suspected that was only because she was too scared to cry at the moment. “Did you hurt Lucas?” Asking that question nearly killed her.
“No, I don’t hurt people. Michael hurts people.”
“What? Why are you talking in riddles?” Leslie’s frustration was growing by the minute, and she wondered if she should try to call 9-1-1 or if Michael would do that on his way.
* * *
Michael was kicking himself as he ran to his rented convertible. He sent Brett a quick, vague text that he would be off the scene until further notice. Brett texted back, basically demanding to know what the hell his boss was doing. In all the years they’d worked together, Michael had never handed off the lead on a job. This would definitely set off all kinds of red flags for his crew, but he had no choice. Things here were locked down tight, he’d bet his reputation on it. As a matter of fact, he was betting his reputation, and his business, on it, but he’d throw both of those things away without a second thought to never again hear the panic in Leslie’s voice he’d heard a moment ago.
He prayed that Lucas had just wandered away again, but in his gut, he knew that wasn’t what had happened. It may have started off that way—maybe Lucas had followed his imagination outside of the yard—but the woman he’d had a bad feeling about was somehow involved in what happened after that.
“Dammit!” He pounded his fist on the steering wheel and practically took a corner on two wheels.
He knew better. That was what all of this boiled down to. He knew better than to ignore his gut and to ignore his instincts, yet he’d done exactly that every time he’d seen the woman in gray, every time he’d thought about her. He’d known she was trouble. The only thing he’d been wrong about was thinking that she was there in relation to the job. Apparently her goal was much more personal than that.
Turning into Leslie’s neighborhood less than ten minutes after he’d gotten her call, he prayed he wasn’t too late to fix his mistake.
He parked at her house and jumped out of the car. “Leslie!”
Dammit, where was she? Without even bothering to check Leslie’s house, he took off at a run toward the ditch where he’d found Lucas. He knew she wasn’t inside; she was out searching for her son. He’d called 9-1-1 on his way, but he wasn’t waiting for the police to get here. He was going to make this right himself.
He called her name again but didn’t get an answer. Why had he told her to stay with the mystery woman? Why hadn’t he told her to get the hell away from the woman? What if the woman was dangerous? What if now she had Leslie and Lucas? He felt the fear of that settle into his chest, and for a moment, his mind went blank.
His brain that never missed a detail, never overlooked anything no matter how small, was now completely useless to him. He’d gone from a calculated professional to a mindless idiot in the space of time it had taken him to hear how terrified Leslie was on the phone.
His phone rang, and he answered without even glancing at caller I.D. “Leslie?”
“Leslie? No, boss. I mean, I have a helluva nice set of legs, but I ain’t no Leslie.” Brett chuckled. “What the hell is going on?”
“Leslie called. Her youngest son is missing, and that woman I told you about that followed me through the airport was with her. I’m here at her house, and I can’t find either of them.” Even Michael could hear the fear in his own voice.
“Whoa. Listen, you gotta get a grip, man. You’re no good to anyone in the shape it sounds like you’re in.” Brett was silent for a second, waiting for Michael to collect himself, which he promptly did.
Michael took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’ll call in later.”
Before he could hang up, Brett stopped him. “Tell me everything you know.”
It was an old tactic they always used when debriefing after something happened on a job. Recounting every detail to someone else helped jar loose memories you might not even realize you knew.
Michael quickly recounted the conversation to Brett and nothing new popped into his head, but he did feel calmer and more in control. He could handle this like a regular case, and not for the woman he loved.
He rocked back on his heels physically at that thought. He’d known all along that Leslie meant more to him than he was willing to admit, but love? When had that happened? Their time together flipped through his mind like a photo album. Each image was a unique experience that made him smile, his heart beat faster, and his body yearn for her like he had never experienced. Frazzled and running late, calm and professional, overwhelmed and trying to wrangle two active boys, or caught on the wave of pleasure as he touched her. No matter how he pictured her, he knew he loved her with all of his being.
Now he had to find her and make sure they were safe.
They were his family.
He disconnected with Brett after telling his friend he’d check in when he could and promising he’d call if he needed backup. That last part he definitely meant. If he needed his guys, he’d pull them in a heartbeat. Business be damned. The celebrity circus of a wedding could go to hell. Nothing else mattered. But first, he had to find them.
The warm weight of his Beretta in his holster gave him comfort, but he prayed he wouldn’t need it. Hostage situations, especially those involving kids, never ended well if you started shooting.
Leslie had said the strange woman had Lucas and would take them to him when Michael got there. This was about Michael, not Leslie, the wedding, the boy, or
anything else. Michael tried to remember her face, what she looked like beyond the strange gray clothing that was so out of place. All he could remember was hair so blond, it disappeared into her clothing. She was slender, not much taller than Leslie. The most noticeable thing about her was that she seemed to go out of her way to not be noticed.
He had walked to the edge of the ditch and looked back and forth in the fading daylight, trying to decide which way to head. He stood listening and didn’t hear anything. No rustling or talking, not a single sound that didn’t belong. He lifted his phone and dialed Leslie’s number. He listened to see if he could hear it ring nearby but still heard only birds and silence.
“Michael?” Leslie answered, sounding out of breath.
“Leslie! Where are you? Give me a direction, I’m here.”
“Michael?” She sounded farther from the phone now. “Help!”
His heart dropped. “Leslie!” He wanted to take off running but had no idea which way to go.
Another voice came on the phone. “You left her alone too, Michael. You left her alone.”
“Who is this? You wanted me here. Now I’m here. Where are you?”
“Why did you leave her alone? I thought you cared about her?” the voice said.
“I do care about her.” He got the feeling that the woman wanted him to take responsibility for what was happening—and for something else he didn’t know about yet. “You’re right though. I should have been with her. I shouldn’t have left her alone. If you tell me where you are, I promise I won’t do it again.”
“It’s too late for that,” the woman said.
“No, it’s not. Nothing has happened that can’t be fixed.”
On a hunch, Michael started walking. If he were luring a small boy away from home, he’d want somewhere nearby where he could keep the child safe and quiet. Not too far away—he would need to get the boy into a car for that—but if it was within walking distance, he could easily convince the boy it was part of the adventure. That meant she needed some other kind of shelter because it was definitely about to rain.
A rumble of thunder in the distance confirmed his prediction.
There was a bridge about a half a mile up the road from this ditch. His money was on the three of them being holed up under that bridge for shelter. The road got very little traffic, which made it perfect for hiding out.
“You didn’t save me.”
Michael froze in his tracks. A clue. He had an extremely short list of clients who wouldn’t say he had performed his job above and beyond their expectations. That made his suspect list one he could count on less than one hand. It also made his next words very important. Say the wrong thing, and this whole situation could go from bad to worse.
He tried to quiet his own heartbeat so he could think. “I’m sorry about that.” He crossed his fingers those were the right words.
* * *
“Shh.” Leslie comforted her son, patting him on the back as she held him on her lap and rocked back and forth.
She sat in the dirt under a bridge, listening to the sound of an approaching thunderstorm. She was terrified of the crazy woman talking to Michael on the phone. Her son was terrified of the thunderstorm.
Sometimes what was scary had more to do with what you knew than with what you didn’t, Leslie thought. The storm would make them wet and probably cold, but unless they were hit by lightning, it wouldn’t hurt them. The crazy woman pacing angrily with the knife in her hand, on the other hand, she was definitely more dangerous than a bolt of lightning.
“Is Michael coming?” Lucas whispered against her neck.
“Yes, baby, Michael’s coming for us. We’re going to be okay.” She hoped she was telling the truth.
In the distance, she heard sirens and wondered if they were coming for them. She’d only made one phone call, and that was to Michael. He was her only hope to get herself and her son out of this safely.
The woman with her phone had walked far enough away that Leslie couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she could tell she was still talking to Michael. Leslie didn’t know what any of this was about. She didn’t know why this woman wanted her and her son here, waiting for Michael. She was terrified that the whole thing was a trap to hurt Michael, but she was also terrified Michael wouldn’t find them.
The first drops of rain fell, making a pattern in the soft dirt around them.
“Mommy, I want to go home!” Lucas cried.
“We’ll go home soon, baby. We have to wait for Michael.” She kept rocking and patting him. It was all she could do right now.
The rain picked up speed, and soon the ground around them had turned to mud. She was grateful for the small shelter the bridge provided, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough for long. She didn’t care about getting wet. She just wanted to get out of there and get her son home to safety. She was never letting him out of her sight again!
Suddenly she saw Michael through the trees. The rain had soaked his hair and his clothes. He still had his phone pressed to his ear, but he wasn’t talking. She could hear the woman talking still. He had pushed his wet hair back from his face, and she could see him clearly looking at her and Lucas. Did she imagine the emotions on his face? Was it purely relief that they weren’t hurt? When he quickly shook his head to let her know to be quiet, she fought the urge to run to his arms or call out to him. Leslie moved her hand to the back of Lucas’s head, holding him against her shoulder so he wouldn’t see Michael.
Michael reached into his holster and pulled out the gun she’d seen in his room before, but never paid much attention to. Now it gave her huge comfort to know he was more than capable of handling whatever was about to happen. He held it up the gun, gesturing to it by tilting his head and raising an eyebrow. Leslie was confused—what did he want her to do? Then she realized he was asking if the woman was armed. Leslie shook her head. She didn’t have a gun. Then she tried to make a knife with her hand, gesturing like a stabbing motion until he nodded in understanding.
Michael’s shoulders relaxed slightly and he tucked his gun back in the holster on his hip. Leslie slid Lucas off her lap to sit beside her and grabbed his hand. She held her finger to lips though, trying to tell him how important it was to stay quiet and be ready to move.
She must have done what Michael wanted because he smiled and nodded. The urge to run to him was so strong, she ordered her feet to stay still. She nodded to let him know she understood he wanted her to wait. When Lucas whimpered, she leaned over and whispered in his ear that he needed to stay quiet and stick right to her side no matter what she did.
Michael slipped out from behind the tree and spoke, both into the phone and into the space between himself and the woman Leslie had decided was definitely crazy. “You wanted me here. Well, here I am.”
The crazy woman spun on her heel to face him. Her face contorted into a weird mixture of grief and rage. Then the same blank expression was back, her pale blue eyes cold and flat.
“You found us!” She seemed happy for a second. “I knew you would, of course. You always rush in when it’s too late.”
“I know who you are,” Michael said, surprising Leslie. “I told Leslie about you just the other day.”
He gestured to Leslie as he said her name, and Leslie knew that was her cue to get on her feet. Whatever Michael was up to, he wanted her to be ready to move.
“There are police just on the other side of those trees.” He pointed behind him. “But I told them not to come in so we could talk.”
Michael was moving in a circle around the woman, and Leslie realized he was placing himself between the crazy woman and her. His hand was behind his back. When she glanced, she realized he was holding up a finger. What did that mean? She almost groaned in frustration. She didn’t know what his signal meant. Then she realized he wasn’t holding up a finger—he was pointing. He wanted her to move back the way he had come. Slowly she took a step to the left, and he did the same, keeping the woman’s attention on him the enti
re time.
“You told her about me?” She sounded flattered. “What’s my name?”
“Janey Thomas,” he answered without hesitation. “I was the security guard who walked you home from the library every night in college.”
Leslie realized immediately who the woman was and how mentally ill she must be to have done this all these years later. Part of her ached for the pain the woman must have experienced, but mostly she wanted to scream at her for putting Leslie’s child in danger over some accident that had happened before he was even born! Instead, Leslie took another step to the left, moving toward trading places with where Michael started.
“Not every night,” Janey snapped.
“No, you’re right. I didn’t walk you the one night you needed me, and I’m very, very sorry. I came to see you at the hospital, but you were sleeping.”
She sobbed. “I slept for weeks. I didn’t want to ever wake up.”
“I testified at your boyfriend’s trial too, and I made sure he got locked up for a long time.”
“I didn’t know that.” Janey sounded confused now, almost childlike.
“I never got the message that you had called me. Another security guard took it and didn’t tell me,” Michael said, moving slowly closer to Janey.
She wasn’t paying any attention now. She seemed lost in another time in her mind.
Michael glanced at Leslie, giving her the unmistakable sign to take Lucas and run. Leslie hesitated. She didn’t want to leave Michael alone with a crazy woman, but his expression didn’t allow any denial.
“Go,” he whispered fiercely. “I’m fine!”
Leslie grabbed Lucas’s hand and took off running through the thick trees. Branches and sticks clawed at her legs. Lucas cried that they were hitting his face, so she stopped long enough to scoop him up and kept running.
* * *
The storm had passed and left behind a humid night with a clear sky. Typical Florida weather, he thought with a sigh. Leslie had taken her family home hours ago. Most likely they were all asleep now, but he couldn’t go back to the resort without seeing her.