Surrogate Dad

by Marion Smith Collins

  “Thank you.”

  He slapped his hands together and looked around. “Now, where are David and Maggie? If I have the luck that kiss promised, I’ll win this race for sure.”

  “Your race! Oh, dear, Luke, you shouldn’t have been distracted—”

  Her statement was severed by his laughter; deep and heartfelt, the sound of it was remarkable. She had wondered if Luke ever just let go like this. Now she had her answer.

  She stared at him as he threw his head back. A smile began to grow on her face and soon she joined him, their laughter mingling in the warm September air. Over the noise of the crowds and the engines, she thought it made a breathtaking duet.

  “What’s so funny?” said David as he appeared from behind them. Maggie was not far behind.

  Luke chuckled and Alexandra saw the knowing smile on her son’s face, but for the moment, she didn’t care if they had been seen. That kiss had been worth all the explanations she would have to make. A feeling of euphoria lifted her spirits and she let herself soar with it.

  When the laughter was finally spent, Alexandra continued to grin at him. “I’ve never heard you laugh like that,” she said.

  His smile faded, replaced by an expression of thoughtfulness. “I should do it more often, shouldn’t I?”

  “Time to go,” Maggie said.

  “Yeah, I’m ready.” Luke pulled at the gauntlets he’d dropped when he’d reached for her. He took the safety hood and helmet from David and fitted both over his head, but he paused, letting the chin strap dangle free for a minute. He looked at her. “Would you and David like to go to the windup party after the races? It’s usually fun.”

  Alexandra wanted to keep this day alive for a few hours more, and yet she hesitated. “I don’t know, Luke. Tomorrow’s a school day for David.”

  He kept her gaze captive with his hot gray eyes. “We don’t have to stay late.”

  “Okay. We’d like that.”

  David had chosen to watch the race from the grid with Maggie and her husband; he seemed to relish feeling in the center of things. And besides, he’d informed her importantly, “Everyone watches the race from down here, Mom.”

  But the noisy, frantic atmosphere was beginning to frazzle Alexandra’s enjoyment of the event. She remembered the dramatic view of the rolling hills and trees as a backdrop for the race. She told David where she was going and hurried to the tower overlooking the finish line.

  She climbed the stairs to find the party in high gear. The area was twice as crowded as yesterday and the noise level seemed to have quadrupled. Several people she’d met during the past two days called out greetings, one party asked her to join them, but she wanted to be alone, to think about what had just happened.

  The race cars were already moving down the track behind the pace car by the time Alexandra made her way to the window. She saw Luke’s car right away and fixed on the silver hood as the pace car peeled off and the racers accelerated. Rounding the first turn, out of sight behind the trees, Luke was in the middle of the pack.

  It took several minutes before the cars appeared from behind another copse of trees at the opposite side of the track. Luke seemed to have moved up toward the front, but she couldn’t be sure.

  She stood in her corner and watched the cars go around and around. Luke moved up a car or two after each lap, until the flag signaling the final lap was waved. He was vying with a midnight black racer—she didn’t know the model—as the drivers sped by and disappeared behind the trees for the last time.

  Alexandra held her breath and crossed her fingers, and kept her gaze glued to the spot where the cars would pass, headed for the finish line and the checkered flag.

  At the very last minute, Luke nosed past the black car to win the race.

  * * *

  Luke felt the rush of exhilaration as he nosed the small car into the grid and brought it to a halt. He yanked off the helmet and the safety hood. His hair was plastered to his head and he finger-combed some of the sweat away. Well-wishers surrounded the car and he responded to the backslapping compliments, the cheers, the applause.

  But the first person he really focused on was Maggie. There was a smile on her face and moisture in her eyes. Their mutual grins said more than words what the win had meant to them both.

  Crossing a finish line before anyone else wasn’t the point. The shared accomplishment was. And their symbolic journey from the coalfields of West Virginia. He climbed out of the car and hugged her hard.

  David was with her. The boy’s face was in danger of splitting wide open. His voice, which was beginning to change, was high and shrill with excitement. “Luke! Luke! It was great!”

  Luke hugged him, too. And met his hand in a high-five slap. “It was great, the greatest. I did it! I actually did it!”

  He looked around but didn’t see Alexandra. He knew a moment’s disappointment, then assumed that she’d watched from the tower. She would be here in a minute.

  David’s excitement could not be contained. Amid the commotion and the crowd, he danced and hopped and swayed, laughing.

  Even as Luke accepted congratulations and talked to the people who stopped, he smiled at David’s unrestrained exuberance. Smiled fondly. And lovingly.

  This kid was getting to him. So was the kid’s mother.

  At last the excitement began to ebb; the people around them began to move away. But there was still no sign of Alexandra. Luke craned his neck, looking over the heads of the crowd between their position and the tower atop the hill.

  Finally, he took David aside. “I’m going to look for your mother. She may not be able to find us in this pack of people. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Okay,” said David.

  * * *

  The tower erupted into cheers after Luke crossed the finish line. Alexandra had been seen with Luke so she was the recipient of all the cheers, all the back-slapping, all the laughing congratulations.

  “You’re with Luke Quinlan, aren’t you? Tell him Kay and Bill said good job.” She nodded.

  “Tell Luke that Homer Wilkins will be out to get him next year.”

  “Okay.” She smiled at Homer and edged toward the tower steps.

  And from a beautiful young woman with a low breathy voice, “Tell Luke that Angela said hi.”

  It took her a while to get free. Out of breath, she finally left the tower and hurried toward the grid. She waded into the crowd, trying to see David or Maggie or Luke, but there were simply too many people. Some were already loading the classic vehicles into trucks or onto trailers, but most were merely enjoying the end of the event, saying goodbye to friends they wouldn’t see for a while. Having a last toast.

  Finally, in exasperation, she headed back toward the hill overlooking the grid. She would be able to see all the area from there.

  When she got to the top, she shielded her eyes from the brilliant sun and swept her gaze over the grid below. At last she spotted Luke. He was taller than most of the people around him, and he seemed to be searching the area, too.

  She started to lift her hand, to wave in hopes of attracting his attention, when all at once, without warning, something dark and hot came down over her head, blotting out all sounds and sight. She was lifted off her feet.

  Alexandra erupted, screaming and flailing her arms, but her screams were stifled by the heavy cloth and her struggles were ineffective. Whoever carried her was strong. Frantic, she continued to struggle.

  How could this be happening with so many people around? But the people on the grid were caught up in the excitement of the just-completed race. They weren’t paying attention to the area atop the hill.

  “Shut up, bitch,” said a muffled male voice. He was moving fast. Really fast. Where was he taking her? She remembered, with a black premonition, a row of deserted garages off to one side near the fence. Oh, God, was the monster going to rape her? Or kill her?

  No! She wouldn’t have it! He was carrying her over his arms, like a heavy coat. She kicked backw
ard and made contact with something. She heard him curse. Yes! Then his arms contracted painfully around her until she was afraid her ribs would crack. Her breathing was cut off by the force and her head began to swim.

  Suddenly, she was dropped onto a hard surface. Her elbow hit pavement, sending pain up her arm and bringing tears to her eyes. A heavy weight was across her chest, rendering her helpless. With her uninjured arm, she pushed against the fabric but he was holding it down, too.

  “Listen up, bitch. You’re going to keep your mouth shut about what you saw at the airport. You’re going to do that because we’re taking your son. You’re going to convince the police to drop the investigation long enough for certain people to get out of town. You do what we tell you and he won’t be hurt.”

  Alexandra had become still at his words.

  David! Oh, dear God, there were more than one of them, and they had David! She couldn’t bear it!

  Beneath the heavy fabric she started to nod furiously. “Yes, yes, anything. Don’t hurt him. Please, for the love of God, don’t hurt him!” She was crying, sobbing. “I’ll do whatever you say. Please. Please.”

  “Remember, stall this investigation for at least a week.”

  The weight was suddenly removed. She lay there for a second, confused by its loss. Then she heard a sharp rumbling sound, followed by another click—metal on metal. She fought her way free of the heavy blanket and rolled to her knees, dragging in great gulps of air. The room spun around her. She breathed carefully to fight off nausea.

  As she had feared, she was in an abandoned garage. Debris of one kind or another had gathered in dark, filthy corners, along with the deserted webs of long-dead spiders. A buildup of grease on the exposed concrete floors had acted as a magnet to dirt and dust. The width of the garage at one end was a huge door on tracks that curved to the ceiling. The only illumination came through grimy panes across the top of the roll-up door, and that light was dim and murky. The only sounds that reached her ears were distant and unidentifiable.

  When her head stopped spinning, she struggled to her feet and stumbled in that direction. She had to get out of here; she had to find her son. She curved her fingers under the bottom of the door and strained to raise it. But it wouldn’t budge. Locked. The effort renewed the throbbing pain in her elbow.

  David.

  “David!” she screamed, her desperate voice echoing in the empty chamber. She slapped at the panels, with the flat of her hand, with her fist, with her forehead. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “Dear God, you wouldn’t do this to me again, would you?” she whimpered. “Please don’t do this again.”

  She finally realized that no one could hear her. No one.

  Defeated, she slid slowly to her knees.

  How long had she been locked in here? Seconds? Minutes? Luke would look for her. Maggie would miss her. Someone would get her out eventually. But David would be far away by then.

  “Think, Alexandra.” Her eyes darted frantically into the dark corners of the empty chamber. She got to her feet again, holding her injured elbow, and began a systematic search around the walls. She kicked at a pile of debris. A beer can rolled away from a used condom, and dust clouded around her knees.

  She wrinkled her nose in disgust, but she kept searching. Finally, she saw something rusty in a back corner, something metal, sticking out from under the deteriorated carcass of an animal. She kicked the animal off the object. There at her feet was a wrench minus its bottom jaw. She pounced on the broken tool as though it were made of gold and ran back to the door.

  If she could break one of the windowpanes, maybe she could make someone hear her. She stretched high, as high as she could reach, drew her good arm back and struck hard. The pane of glass shattered, raining sharp fragments down on her, and the wrench went flying through the window.

  “Help! Help me!” She was yelling before she heard the tool hit the pavement outside. “Help! Luke! Get me out of here!” She screamed for what seemed like hours before she finally heard someone calling her name. “I’m here!” she called back.

  “Alexandra!” It was Luke and his voice was rough. “Thank God.”

  She heard the fear in his voice, as well. “Yes, I’m here! I’m locked in.” And despite herself, she began to cry.

  “Don’t cry, baby. I’ll have you out of there in a minute.”

  “Hurry, Luke. Please hurry,” she said, sobbing.

  The screech of metal, a sharp crack, and then the door was rising, letting in the brilliant sunlight, fresh air and Luke. He still wore the racing suit. Dusty, sweaty, tired and worried, he was balance in a world turned upside down.

  She raced into his arms and they closed around her like a vise.

  “Alexandra, my God, what in hell happened?” Gently he pushed her back, dusted the glass out of her hair, cradled her face. His hands were shaking.

  “A man. He had a blanket or something. He grabbed me....” Her voice broke. “He has—”

  Luke’s face had drained of color. A muscle in his jaw jumped spasmodically. Again, he hauled her against him, his big hands moving over her back in a comforting stroke. “Did he—hurt you?”

  She was shaking her head before he finished. She tried to pull away. “No, no. But he said he has David! He said—”

  Luke’s eyes narrowed as he brought her back into the circle of his arms, more tenderly this time. “I just left David. He’s fine.”

  Her face turned up to him, hope warring in her eyes with disbelief.

  “David is fine,” he repeated. “Come on, I’ll show you.” He kept her within the circle of his arm as he headed toward the grid area. “Can you walk all right?”

  “Yes,” she said, but she sagged against him, glad of his support. The action pinned her injured arm between them. She pulled back with an involuntary gasp. The pain shot up her arm again, along her shoulder.

  He stopped. “What is it?”

  “My elbow. I hit it on the concrete floor. It’s all right, let’s go.”

  Luke moved to Alexandra’s other side and dropped his arm to her waist instead of her shoulder. His mouth twisted agonizingly as he looked down at her. Not only her arm but her knees were scraped. Her face was smeared with dirt and grease. And her eyes—the expression of terror in her wonderful eyes, and his inability to erase it, hurt him more than he’d ever believed he could be hurt.

  At that moment, Luke realized that strong feelings were brewing in him for this woman, much stronger than straightforward desire. He wanted to pick her up and carry her away—away from all fear, all worry, all pain.

  He wasn’t ready for feelings like that, he reminded himself. Despite the kiss they’d shared before the race, despite the heat, the passion, the excitement of that moment, he wasn’t ready.

  Maggie had warned him this morning of Alexandra’s obsessive need for independence. She had a lot of emotional baggage relating to her dead husband—not to mention a teenage son.

  Whom he had to locate right now. To relieve her mind and his.

  They finally arrived at Maggie’s van. David was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s David?” said Luke tightly.

  Maggie was packing away her tools. She glanced around. “He was here just a minute ago. He probably went to get a cold drink.”

  Alexandra put her hand to her heart. “Oh, no.”

  “What’s wrong?” asked Maggie. For the first time, she noticed Alexandra’s appearance. “What on earth happened to you?”

  Alexandra brushed her hair off her face distractedly. “I don’t have time to explain now, Maggie. I’ve got to find David.”

  “He couldn’t have gone far. Come on, I’ll help you look,” Maggie said, slamming the door to the van. She called to Morris, who came hurrying over.

  “What’s up?” he asked. Maggie explained quickly.

  “We’ll find him,” he said to Alexandra.

  Luke had been studying the area, but his arm remained around Alexandra.

  She pulled away from him, fully aware of
what he was about to say. “Thanks, Maggie, Morris.”

  Luke tried for patience. “Alexandra, you wait here. I’ll find David and bring him to you.”

  Luke didn’t notice the look Alexandra gave him. She wasn’t going to sit idly by while her son was missing. He didn’t know her very well, if he’d thought she would. “No,” she said firmly.

  God, she was a stubborn woman. “Hang on a minute. You’re not going off alone. Maggie, you stay with Alexandra. Search from here to the track. I’ll get a security guard to help us and search the area toward the fence. Morris, you cover the grid. Ask people if they’ve seen him. He’s made a lot of friends this weekend. If you see or hear anything, sing out.”

  Luke strode off in the direction of the fence, which was comparatively deserted. If David had been taken, his abductors would try to get the boy as far away from people as quickly as possible. He spotted a security guard he knew.

  He hurriedly enlisted the guard’s help and they started off in opposite directions.

  Luke had gone just a few dozen yards when he saw something that made his blood chill. About forty yards away, near the fence, two men appeared to be wrestling next to the open door of a dark van. Navy blue or black.

  One man grabbed his shin, stepping aside long enough for Luke to catch sight of a third figure. The tableau included a boy, struggling. A boy in a red shirt exactly like David’s.

  “Hey! This way!” Luke yelled to the guard. He set off like a shot, sprinting in the van’s direction. “You, there. Let that boy go.”

  One of the men whirled, saw the big man coming and jumped into the driver’s seat. He slammed the door and got the van in gear, yelling at his accomplice. The other man, who still had a hold on the struggling David, looked up. He gave the boy a shove and vaulted into the van’s bed. The vehicle roared off.

  “David!” He reached the boy; his hand came down on David’s shoulder. He tried to make out the license-plate number. But he could see only the last three numbers—six-eight-three.

  “Are you all right?” he asked the boy, scanning for injuries. He saw none.