I try to drive the thoughts out of my head, but they don’t want to budge. I still have no proof my suspicions are entirely correct, and I can’t afford to go off the deep end. But I swear I might if this day gets any worse, and I know that it could.
I rifle through the paperwork on the desk, pushing it aside, unsure what I’m looking at. Why am I even in here? I never imagined when I woke up this morning that I would be attempting to distract myself from such a screwed-up situation by going through boring paperwork. I guess it reminds me of my admin job and gives me some level of comfort.
None of the pile seems all that important. Work orders, supply lists, ongoing issues, budget problems. Boilerplate documents that would put anyone else to sleep within a few minutes.
I’m getting up to leave when I see a face pop out at me from the mess. “What?” I say out loud. It’s a photo of the man from 707. The same scowl I saw earlier today stares up from the chaos of paperwork. His picture is attached to some documentation with the name Stonework Village written all over it. I pull the page from the pile and run my eyes over the information. I almost drop the paper when I see the man is an employee of the apartment complex. Not only does he live in the building, he is actually one of the maintenance people who service Stonework Village. How did an ex-con manage that? I thought it was near impossible to get solid work after doing time.
I scan over the paper, desperate to find out who this man is. I can tell the police all about him when they get here. I already know he has a record. My eyes finally land on his name: Desmond Bracero.
“Bracero?” I say out loud. Where have I heard that name before? I try to recall the surname, wondering why it’s so familiar. It sits on the end of my tongue, ready to pop out. Just as I am about to rule it out as an odd bit of information stuck in the back of my brain, it hits me.
“Alan!”
I step back in a rush until I slam into a filing cabinet. “What the hell?” I say out loud. My mind runs wild as I try to make sense of what I have discovered. “Desmond Bracero,” I say out loud. “Alan Bracero.”
I close my eyes as my world begins to swirl. This explains why Alan would go out of his way to help an ex-con move into the same building as him, and why he would line the man up with a secure job in maintenance.
Alan is Desmond’s father.
Sixteen
I escape the maintenance office and rush back to the kitchenette, bumping into walls and doorframes in the process. I need a moment to think straight, to try and absorb the information that Alan is the father of the ex-con in apartment 707. The name Desmond stains my mind as I see a flash of his face through the gap in the door again.
“Shit,” I say out loud. My discovery changes everything. It makes me absolutely confident that Alan had something to do with Alice’s disappearance. Any doubt has vanished along with his kind old man act. Why Alan seemed all too kind and eager to help makes perfect sense now.
I sit down on a chair in the kitchenette, unsure what to do with my discovery. Alan and Desmond have to be working for Michael. He has paid them to take her from under my nose and make me look like an incompetent mother who loses her daughter. It’s the only argument that makes sense.
Otherwise, they have taken Alice for their own reasons. I shake my head as the ramifications of that likelihood set in while my breathing speeds up. If Alan and his son aren’t working for Michael, why have they kidnapped an innocent little girl?
The phone in the corner blares out loud, sending my already high heart rate through the roof. I attempt to pick up the receiver, but my hand starts to shake uncontrollably. I grip my wrist with my other hand, determined to answer the call. I know it’s Henry, but I don’t know what I’m going to tell him. Should I share what I know about Desmond?
I grip the phone and lift it up to my ear. The cheap plastic feels heavier than it should, as a weakness cripples me to my core. I take a breath in and try to center myself to regain a semblance of control. It doesn’t work, but I force myself to speak. “Hello?”
“Erika, it’s Henry. Is everything alright? You took a while to answer.”
“Ah, yes,” I say in a panic. I close my eyes as I try to fit my thoughts together in my head.
“Good. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve had another update from the police.”
“Really?” I ask, my voice picking up with hope.
“There’s been another delay, I’m sorry. The gas leak has gotten worse and has cut off several streets downtown. They’ve had no choice but to pull in even more police officers to keep the public back to a safe distance.”
I shake my head at my terrible luck. “Okay,” I say, defeat crushing my voice.
“I’m sorry about this.”
“Not your fault,” I say, as my grip on the phone begins to fade.
“They said they’d call as soon as they had something positive to tell me.”
“Okay then.” I can barely muster up the words to answer him.
“Take it easy, Erika. The police will be here as soon as they—”
“No, wait. If the police aren’t coming, someone needs to be looking for Alice.”
“I already thought of that. Seeing as Alan is still not answering, I’ve got someone from maintenance going floor to floor as we speak. They’ll find her soon enough.”
Maintenance? My heart skips a beat. “Who?” I ask, praying this someone isn’t Desmond. He didn’t seem to be dressed for work when I saw him.
“His name’s Gus. He’s the maintenance supervisor. Look, Erika, I gotta go. There’s people at the front door begging for me to let them in. Just try and relax. Alice will turn up soon. I promise.”
The line goes dead. My mouth hangs open. I drop the receiver back into its home. I feel tears welling up in my eyes. Another delay from the police takes us a step closer to sealing Alice’s fate. How can the authorities be taking this situation so lightly? She’s four years old, missing, and hurt. The police should be here, gas leak or not. A single maintenance worker isn’t the response team I need.
I shake my head again and decide that Henry needs to get someone higher up from the police department on the phone, to make our emergency call stick out among the other mounting problems the city will be facing today. Maybe if he tells them about Desmond, it will move things along.
I head for the exit to the lobby and stop halfway there when something hits me like a smack on the back of my head. Henry is the only one to have spoken with the police. He is the only one receiving updates. I start to wonder a few sickening thoughts that I hope are just stress-related nonsense.
Did Henry pretend to call the police? Did he just call Michael each time to fake the whole thing? Maybe that wasn’t his boss on the line earlier.
Then a second thought hits me hard, shoving me against the wall: is there really a gas leak downtown? I have no smartphone on me to find out online. Now I’m being kept out of the way in some dingy back room, cut off from the world.
“No,” I whisper. It can’t be true. I don’t want it to be. I can’t bear the thought of another person working with Michael to take my Bunny away from me. She doesn’t deserve this. If anything, Michael should be punishing me and leaving her out of our differences. She’s the only innocent one in our family.
Just as I am about to lose my mind and run out into the lobby, I hear a faint siren in the distance. At first, I swear it’s all in my head. Or it could be the building moaning and groaning as it continues to serve its occupants.
The noise grows louder with every passing second, as if an emergency vehicle is heading for the building. Could it be a police officer?
I move closer to the lobby door and press my ear up to the cold surface to listen. The siren is getting louder and louder. It’s coming to Stonework Village. I know it.
I take a breath and shake out my wrists. If that is the police out there, about to come inside, I need to put my game face on. I’ll need to move fast and help in whatever way I can.
I turn
the handle to the lobby door, but it doesn’t budge. The door rattles slightly in response to my jiggling. I try it again, pressing harder. Nothing. This can’t be right, I think, as I take a step back. Surely Henry wouldn’t lock me in the back room like this? He left me with a working telephone. All I need to do is call the cops.
The thought seems like a good one. I rush back to the kitchenette and grab the phone. I dial 911 and wait for a connection. I hear nothing to indicate the phone can call out. I hang up and try again. Dead air is all I get. Either there is a special button I have to press to dial out, or this phone is only for internal purposes.
I feel a wave of panic envelop me as the siren reaches its pinnacle. It has to be coming for me, coming for Alice. I let the phone hang by my side for a moment as I force myself to think.
“Come on,” I say, as I tap the receiver against my head. “Think, dammit.” I stare down at the phone and start to try different combinations to dial out.
I try 0. Nothing.
I try 9. Nothing.
I try every other number and button on the damn thing until I hit “Lobby.” The phone rings out to Henry. What the hell am I going to say?
“Yes, Erika?”
“What the hell?”
“I suppose you want to know what’s going on. Look, I think it’s best if you just stay put for now and—”
“Are you kidding me? I can hear the siren. It’s coming here, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing. You’ve locked me in the back room and won’t let me out when the authorities finally show up.”
“Sorry?”
“You heard me. The door won’t open. You told me it unlocks from this side. It won’t open.”
“Damn thing must be stuck again. Give me a minute and I’ll open it for you.” He hangs up the phone. Is this another tactic to give me hope? I honestly don’t know who I can trust anymore. I leave the phone on the table and head for the exit to the lobby, hopeful Henry is telling the truth.
The door swings open to reveal Henry staring at me from the lobby. He runs his gaze over me with a furrowed brow.
I try to gauge his body language.
“Erika?”
“No. I have to tell you something.”
“Okay,” he says, as he ushers me out with one open arm. “Can it wait, though? I’m going to need to talk to these people.”
I walk out and see an ambulance parked on the sidewalk in front of the building. My brow tightens at the sight. I was expecting to see a police cruiser instead. I figure the ambulance Henry requested has arrived first. Henry guides me to his chair at reception and tells me to sit for a moment before he unlocks the front door to the lobby. I obey like a dog, while my eyes stay glued to the paramedics as they rush inside. Henry greets the man and woman head-on. I study his face, wondering why he looks so confused to see the EMTs coming into the building. He called them here.
I stand and push the chair back. I’m not going to sit around and wait while the paramedics get the slow version of the day’s happenings. I move with purpose toward the three. I have to take action for Alice. She needs to be found, right now, so these people can give her the aid she needs.
The flashing lights of the ambulance slow me down as I reach the group. The swirling beacons send a stab of pain to my core as a memory tries to surface. I shake it off and continue toward the group. I can’t let anything stop me now. I will find Alice and get her the help she needs.
Seventeen
The paramedics brush past me in the lobby before I have the chance to say a single word to either of them. Henry tags along by their side. He turns to me. “Stay here.”
I come to a stop at his order but then realize I have to keep moving. “No way,” I mutter, as the two trained professionals rush for the elevator—as if they know where Alice is. Are they planning on searching the building until they find her? I give chase, determined not to let them out of my sight. I need to be there when they locate my Bunny.
Henry and the two paramedics huddle around the elevator, waiting for it to become functional again. I realize in a flash that the three of them are about to use the faulty elevator. If it fails again, they will get stuck and not be able to help Alice.
Before I can warn them, I see the three cram into the elevator. The doors start to shut straight away as Henry slaps the close button over and over.
“Don’t take the elevator,” I yell.
Henry tries to wave me back. “Stay there, Erika.”
“No, it’s not safe. You might get stuck.”
“You don’t understand. We’re going to the seventh floor to—”
The doors seal shut.
“The seventh floor to what?” I yell. I run to the stairwell entry but remember it’s locked. I rush back to reception and find the hidden button Henry used to buzz me through. I find a large button and slap it hard. I run back to the stairwell door and slam through without any concern as to who might be on the other side. If I knock some resident over, they’ll soon recover. Alice, on the other hand, could have been injured for far too long without receiving any medical attention. Her safety holds more importance than anyone else’s in the building right now.
I pull myself up the steps two at a time, yanking hard on the railing. With every corner I round, I can feel the strain being placed on the aging structure. Some rails wobble more than others, their bolts having loosened over time with oily hands and heavy weights.
The floor numbers pass by and my legs ache from the effort I’ve put them through today. On a busy day, I’d be lucky if I moved around half this much on flat ground, let alone bounding up and down flights of stairs.
Adrenaline spurs me on, blocking the pain my ankles are taking from climbing the stairs in ballet flats. I’d almost be better off doing this climb in my bare feet, but I don’t have time to stop and take my shoes off.
What will I say to Alice? Will I be upset with her? Not a chance. Seeing her safe and sound will be all there is to care about. I’ll pick her up from the ground and hold on tight. I may never let go of her after today. How can I?
I’m almost halfway there and can feel the drain of the last hour or so pulling me down. The stairwell feels like a giant bathtub full of water that has had its plug suddenly pulled out. I’m being sucked down by gravity’s unbiased power, taking me along for the ride. I’m fighting against the current, and I know it.
I reach level four and see the blood drying on the wall. Henry’s maintenance man has put up signs to keep people away from it. The sight sends a stab into my chest that radiates down to my core. I almost come to a stop, drawn in by the morbid scene. That blood isn’t where it should be. It needs to be back in my Bunny, keeping her heart beating strong.
I force my brain to stay focused on the simple job at hand. I pick up the pace as I reach out for the next railing to propel myself up the steps. I’m so close to level seven I can smell its carpeting. I can hear the hum of the lights. I can picture Alice running down the corridor, fleeing from the paramedics.
“Come on!” I say out loud. I have to be there when they reach her, wherever that is. She’ll be too scared to speak. Do they know she goes by the name Bunny? Has Henry told them? Why have I been left out of this? A mother should be the first person to be consulted on any matter concerning a child. No one else knows better.
She grew inside my body. Her tiny hands and feet formed, her heart pumped for the first time, her eyes came to be inside me. No one else knows Alice like I do—especially not her father. He thinks he can just take her from me. But you can’t replace a mother’s love.
Level seven finally arrives and I open the door with sweaty hands. I struggle to breathe and make myself take a few seconds to collect my thoughts while my lungs play catch-up. I won’t be able to help the paramedics with Alice if I’m short of breath and can’t speak.
I glance down the corridor and see Henry and the two medical staff enter an apartment I’d knocked on earlier. It’s close to the
stairwell, but I need the support of the walls to move my legs along to reach it.
I see past the elevator as its doors close. I’m not far behind them, and I wonder if the group had similar problems to Alice and me. I don’t see any evidence to suggest their ride was anything other than smooth. It only adds to my theory that someone tampered with the damn thing.
I shake off the past as much as I can and stumble forward. The door to the apartment they all went into is still open. I won’t let them shut me out. Not this time. I’m not going to be stuffed into some back room while my daughter suffers. This search for her has taken far too long. How could I let her stay missing like this?
As I reach the door to apartment 702, I wonder why she is in someone else’s apartment.
Hopefully, a good Samaritan found her and couldn’t stand to see a hurt child wandering around the floor by herself. I picture some dear old lady, whose selfless concern may have saved my Bunny’s life. Did this old lady call for an ambulance?
I reach the apartment and clutch at the doorframe as I wheeze for air. I need to fight through the pain in my chest and move inside. I want Alice to see a stable mother who isn’t a complete mess when I enter the room and find her there.
I stumble inside and see Henry at the rear of the two paramedics. They are huddled around someone on the floor I can’t see, but she’s here; I know it.
I take in a deep breath. They’ve found her. It’s finally over.
Henry hears me coming and turns around. “Erika. No, you shouldn’t be here.” He rushes toward me and stops my approach.
“Let me go,” I yell. “She needs me.” I try to fight him off, resisting his attempt to keep me from my daughter.
Why is he doing this?
Why doesn’t he want me to see her?
My thoughts take a dark turn as the worst thing a mother can fathom enters my brain. “Is she…?” I can’t even bring myself to utter the words. She can’t be. Not after everything. Not now.
The Day I Lost You: A totally gripping psychological thriller Page 9