Still Missing

by Chevy Stevens

  “I have to get going, Mom—thanks for dinner.”

  “Call me if you find out anything else.” She rubbed her hand down my back and said, “I’m sure everything will work out.”

  By the time I got back home the sick feeling had turned into a restless energy, so I decided to go for a run. It wasn’t that late yet, but I couldn’t have gone to sleep even if it was bedtime—I was wired for sound. While my feet pounded the pavement, my thoughts ran wild.

  Did something go on between Luke and Christina? I couldn’t recall them ever being overly friendly when we were together in the past. Then again, I never picked up on the fact that she was my competition for the project. Had she known from the start? Was that what she was trying to tell me when I interrupted her? Or was she trying to tell me about her and Luke? And how come Luke never told me the restaurant was having troubles? Questions crashed around in my mind, smashed into each other, and splintered into more questions.

  After a half hour’s hard running I’d calmed down a lot, but a vague sense of unease followed me home and into the shower. If I just heard their voices all the crazy thoughts would go away. Still wrapped in my towel, I called Luke at the restaurant. He answered abruptly.

  “Am I catching you at a bad time?” I said.

  “I got a few.”

  “I just wanted to tell you I identified a photo of the guy down at the cop shop today. I don’t have a name yet but Gary’s going to fill me in as soon as he can.”

  “Hey! That’s good news.”

  “I guess. I still need to know more.”

  “Keep me posted on what they find out, but I gotta go—I’m sorry, there’s a lot going on around me, place is packed.”

  Still feeling unsettled, I almost told him I’d stop in for a drink so we could talk, but I hesitated too long and he was gone.

  I called Christina on her cell, but she told me she’d have to call me back because they were doing the launch of the waterfront project that night and she was greeting people at the door. After we said good-bye, I stared at the phone in my hand. Emma, sitting at my feet, looked up at me with her big brown eyes.

  “I’m being a dumbass, aren’t I?” She wagged her tail furiously. I took that as a yes.

  But then, on the way to my bedroom, I finally remembered where the photo came from.

  It took Gary a while to answer the phone. I didn’t realize I was holding my body rigid until I heard his calm voice, and the tension in my muscles eased a little.

  “I’ve been trying to call you all afternoon,” I said.

  “Sorry about that, my phone battery died.”

  “I need to talk to you.” I hated how desperate I sounded.

  “I’m listening.”

  “I was just thinking about this little shelf cluttered with photo frames I used to have in the hall outside my bedroom, and—I remembered. There’s this pewter frame I’d stuck in behind the rest because it had an older picture of me in it, the same picture The Freak—”

  “The photo was from inside your house?”

  The sick feeling was back.

  “The Freak could never have gotten past Emma, so it has to have been when we were out on a walk. But why would he risk breaking in for that photo?”

  “That’s a good question. Did anyone have keys to your place?”

  “I lost my set on a hike a few months before I was taken, so I had the locks changed—I hadn’t given anyone a spare yet.”

  “So it was probably someone you let in, Annie. They gave him the photo—presumably as a way of identifying you.”

  My heart started to pound. “But why that one?”

  “Might’ve thought it was one you wouldn’t miss. Could be any number of reasons.”

  “And whoever tried to grab me—”

  “Could be the same person who took the photo or someone they hired to finish the job.”

  “This doesn’t make any sense. Why would someone want me abducted? There were never any ransom demands.”

  “We don’t know that you were supposed to be abducted. It’s possible he was hired for a different reason, then decided to keep you for his own purposes.”

  “You think he was actually supposed to kill me? Jesus Christ, Gary.” My eyes went to the alarm.

  “They’re not going to try anything again this fast—there’s too much attention on you right now—but I’ll make sure the patrol cars are still driving by. And I’m going to need the names of anyone who had access to that photo.”

  “Lots of people have been in my house, I’d just had some work done on the furnace—”

  “This is too complicated to be a crime of opportunity. It has to be someone with a personal motive.”

  “I already sent you the stupid list—”

  “Don’t just think in terms of who might have wanted to hurt you, think about who benefited the most from your disappearance.”

  My mind reeled. “I need…I need some time. To think.”

  Gary said, “Sleep on it, okay? I’ll give you my motel number in Eagle Glen. If you come up with anything, call me right away.” I was about to hang up when he said, “And, Annie. Just keep this to yourself for now.”

  I got dressed with shaky hands and Gary’s words repeating in my head. Who benefited the most? I thought of Luke’s busy restaurant. I thought of Christina getting a real estate project.

  Then I remembered The Freak saying he chose me because “an opportunity arose,” and it was odd that my normally punctual boyfriend was so late for dinner that day of all days. Also The Freak had said he saw Luke with a woman, but he liked tormenting me—wouldn’t he have told me if it was Christina? Or was he saving that detail for a rainy day? But if there was something going on between Luke and Christina, why didn’t they get together once I was out of the picture? And why would they give him that photo? They’d both had pictures of me. No, this was ridiculous. Christina and Luke loved me—they’d never hurt me.

  Who benefited the most?

  I stared at the spot in the hall where the shelf used to be. Someone stole a photo of me, someone I let in my home. I checked the alarm again, the locks on the door. Emma barked at a car driving by and I just about jumped out of my skin. I had to get out of there.

  On the hour-long drive to Eagle Glen—Gary’s motel’s name, room number, and a Googled map on the seat next to me—I realized I hadn’t asked him why he was there, but I assumed it was because of the case. I can’t remember anything I passed that night, and I felt cold all over—in my haste I hadn’t grabbed a coat and was just wearing a tank top and yoga pants, which didn’t help. My hands shook on the steering wheel.

  I had to wait a couple of minutes for Gary to answer my knock.

  “Sorry, I was just getting out of the shower. What’s going on? You okay?”

  “Hey,” I said. “I need to talk.” He gestured for me to come in.

  The air was still steamy and he was buttoning up the last few buttons of a white shirt. He took the towel from around his neck and rubbed it over his hair, which the water had turned steel-colored, and after he tossed the towel onto the back of a chair, he quickly smoothed his hands over his head.

  It wasn’t a very big room, just one bed, a phone desk, TV, and a bathroom, and it felt even smaller when I realized it was the first time we’d ever been alone together.

  A half-empty bottle of red wine rested on the night table. He didn’t strike me as the drinking type, but what the hell did I know? Without saying anything, he lifted up the bottle and raised his eyebrows. I nodded. He filled up one of the motel room glasses and handed it to me. Glad to have something in my hands, I took a big gulp and felt it hit my bloodstream instantly. My muscles uncoiled and a warm glow spread through me. I sat on the end of the bed.

  Gary pulled a chair from the phone table and turned it to face me. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands.

  “So what’s up?”

  “This shit—it’s making me crazy. You have to find the guy
who grabbed me, Gary. Not knowing who may have done this is seriously screwing with my head—I’m doubting everyone. I even started wondering if it could be Christina and Luke just because of some crap my mom heard. How fucked is that?”

  “What did your mom hear?”

  “They didn’t do it, Gary. It was just some stuff about that waterfront project I was supposed to get and that they were spending a lot of time together after I was gone. Apparently their finances were screwed up too, but that crap doesn’t matter. My point is, this shit’s making me insane.”

  Gary stood up and paced around the room, rubbing his chin with one hand. “What happened with that project again?”

  I gave him the lowdown but ended with, “Christina wouldn’t do this to me, Gary.”

  “If you want me to find who’s responsible, I have to consider every scenario.”

  “Well, that’s not one.”

  “How stable is her marriage?”

  “It’s fine, I think…. She doesn’t say much about it, but that’s probably just because of everything I’m going through.”

  “And she was seen at the restaurant with Luke a lot?”

  “Yes, but they’re never together now, they were just meeting because they were trying to find me.”

  Gary continued to pace.

  “Why are you in Eagle Glen, by the way?” I said. “Are you showing the sketch around still?”

  “I just got here this afternoon and talked with the night staff. Tomorrow I meet with the day shift.”

  “Do you have anything more on the guy? Was David his real name? You told me you’d fill me in as soon as you got his file, but you haven’t called.”

  “I’m getting some information from another department faxed over tomorrow. That’s all I can tell you at this point.”

  “I hate it when you use that cop talk. I’m shooting straight with you, it’s the least you can do for me.”

  Frustration and wine combined to erode what remained of my self-control, and I burst into tears.

  With my head down to hide my face, I got up off the bed and walked toward the door, but Gary grabbed my arm as I passed and spun me around. I shoved at his chest with my free hand, but he didn’t budge. The tears were gone now.

  “Let me go, Gary.”

  “Not until you calm down.”

  I slammed the heel of my hand into his chest, a quick blow. “Fuck you, Gary. I’m sick and tired of this bullshit. You cops sat there and did nothing the whole time I was gone and you’re still giving me the runaround. I was raped almost every fucking night and you can’t even give me a name? Don’t you get it? Not only is my life fucked, but now I have to wonder if someone I know wanted it fucked. And you’re going to stand there and tell me I don’t have the right to know anything about the guy who did this?” This time I hit his shoulder. He didn’t move. I hit him again.

  He grabbed my wrist. “Stop it.”

  I glared at him. “Stop being a jerk.”

  “I’m telling you everything I can without compromising the case.”

  “That’s all this is to you, isn’t it? Just a case.”

  Now he looked angry. “Do you know how many people go missing every year? How many children? And most of them don’t come back. My older sister disappeared when I was just a kid and we never found her. That’s why I got into the force—I didn’t want anyone to go through what my family did.” He dropped my wrists. “My marriage broke up because of this case.”

  “I didn’t know you were—”

  “We were having some problems before you went missing, but we were trying to work them out. That’s why I asked to be transferred here from the mainland. But not long after I got here you were abducted and I put so many hours on your case…She walked out a month before you came home.” A rueful laugh. “She told me I was so busy looking for other people I don’t see the ones standing right in front of me.”

  “I’m sorry, Gary, about everything. I know I’m being a bitch. But I’m just so fucked up. I don’t know who to trust anymore. Someone wants me dead, and—” My voice broke and I started to cry.

  Gary stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. My face is about the same height as his chest, and his chin was on top of my head. The rumble of his voice moving up through his chest vibrated against my cheek.

  “No one is going to hurt you, Annie. I won’t let that happen, okay?”

  I peeled my face off his chest and looked up at him. His eyes were dark and his arm around my back burned through my shirt. It felt good to lean into the power of his body and I wanted to absorb his strength and take it with me. Our eyes locked.

  On my tiptoes, I stretched my body against him and pressed my lips to his. For a second his mouth didn’t yield, and then he muttered, “Oh, shit.”

  With Luke everything was always sweet and soft, passionate but never intense. Gary and I kissed with quiet desperation. With both hands around my bottom, he lifted me up against him, then lowered me onto the bed. When he leaned over me with both arms braced on either side of my body, The Freak flashed before my eyes and I froze. Gary gave me a searching look and started to stand back up, but I pulled him down on the bed beside me, pushed him onto his back, crawled on top of him, and gripped the bedding on either side of his face. We lay like that for a second, my body aware of every inch of him and my heart thudding against his chest. His arms were rigid as they held me up slightly under my rib cage and his legs tensed as though he was about to lift me away from him.

  With my cheek pressed to his, I whispered into his ear, “I have to…be in control. It’s the only way I can…”

  Relaxing his body, he cupped my face with one of his hands, then turned it toward him until I was forced to make eye contact. His voice ragged yet still gentle, he stroked his thumb against my cheekbone.

  “Are you sure you want to do this, Annie? If this is as far as you want to go, I’m okay with that.”

  A shiver of fear slid through me, but I turned my face into his hand and bit down softly on the fleshy part of his thumb. Then I leaned down, my hair curtaining us, and pressed my lips to his.

  But as soon as he began to kiss back harder, holding my butt and grinding my groin against his, panic rose in me, and I froze again. He sensed the change and started to say something, but I pinned his hands above his head and, my face burning in humiliation, murmured against his mouth.

  “You can’t touch me…you can’t move.”

  I wasn’t sure he understood, but his lips relaxed, and when I moved my mouth against his, he didn’t kiss back. Pressing and pulling, tugging and nibbling, I worked his lips. Sliding my tongue into his mouth, I stroked and sucked until he moaned.

  I took off our clothes until we were both in our underwear and kissed his chest, softly dragged my hair back and forth until his nipples hardened and his skin broke out into goose bumps. Straddling him, I held eye contact as I brought his hand to my breasts and stroked around my nipples with it, moving his hand down over my rib cage, and then, as I grew more comfortable, between my legs. I caressed myself with his hand—the first hand to touch there, including my own, since The Freak. When my body began to respond in a wave of pleasure I wasn’t quite ready to surf, I moved his hand back to cup my breast. I kissed him again, hooked my toes into his boxers, and slid them down. Then, still kissing, I drew my pan ties down and kicked them off.

  Holding his arms above his head, our foreheads touching, I lay still on top of him and rested my lips just slightly over his, feeling his hot breath moving in and out, mixing with my own. His skin was burning, feverish, and a fine sweat coated both our bodies. At first his breathing was ragged, but he smoothed it out, holding it in check, for me.

  Lifting myself up onto my toes, I opened my legs, then shifted down, sliding myself onto him. He didn’t enter me, I took him.

  His breath caught in his throat, and I paused, heart fluttering, waiting for him to lose it, to flip me on my back and pound at me, to thrust up, to do something. But he didn’t. And I w
anted to cry. At his gift.

  As I slid up and down on him, he never moved. Stroke after stroke, his breath was my only monitor of the fierce struggle going on within, and knowing I had this strong, confident man on his back made me move harder. Faster. Rougher. Daring him to try to touch me, I took my anger out on his body. Using my sex as a weapon. And when he came, his hips still didn’t lift, didn’t thrust, only his hands flexed in my own as his whole body tightened, and I felt exhilarated. Powerful. I continued to ride him until it must have been painful. But he still didn’t touch me. Finally I stopped, turning my face to the side and releasing his wrists. Only then did he lift one hand to cup the back of my head as he rocked me slightly in his arms. And then I cried.

  Afterward we lay side by side on our backs, staring at the ceiling while we tried to catch our breath. Neither of us said a word. It was so much the opposite of my experience with The Freak, total control versus no control, I’d actually been able to keep The Freak’s memory out of the room, out of the bed, out of my body. But my haze began to lift as I sobered up and I thought about what was really going on in my life, and what I’d just done. Gary started to say something, but I interrupted him.

  “This was the first time that I…did what we did since I came home. And I just want you to know I’m glad it was with you, but you don’t have to worry—I don’t have any expectations or anything. I hope this doesn’t change things between us.”

  The rhythm of his breathing broke, paused, and resumed. He turned his face toward me, opened his mouth, but I cut him off again.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have any regrets or anything, and I sure as hell hope you don’t, but I don’t want to have some big talk about it, okay? Let’s just move on…. What’s the next step in the investigation?”