“I’ll bet you’re still feeling sad… you know, about what… what happened, aren’t you?” Cindy said in a low, comforting voice.
Krissy nodded agreement, but her expression suddenly shifted, hardening as she looked up and focused on Cindy’s face. Her throat made a strange, gasping sound when she opened her mouth to speak.
“But it … it’s not just that,” she said in a low, trembling whisper. “It—it’s something else.”
“What, then?” Cindy asked sharply, feeling suddenly fearful.
She thought maybe Krissy was upset by the way she had grilled her brother, so she wasn’t quite sure she heard correctly when Krissy said, “I dunno… I was wondering if—maybe—it was that man in the white van who did it.”
“A man—? Did what? What white van? What the heck are you talking about, honey?”
“The person who got into the apartment and messed around with our stuff.” Krissy suddenly stopped and gave her aunt a piercing, questioning look. “What, you mean you haven’t seen him?” she asked.
“No, I—I haven’t seen anybody. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cindy said, but she couldn’t deny the chill that lanced through her. Trying to keep the edge of growing hysteria out of her voice, she said, “Tell me what you mean, Krissy.”
“That man in the white van.” Krissy cringed as she repeated herself. “I’ve seen him parked outside on the street, in front of the apartment lots of times.”
“Really?”
Krissy nodded. “Uh-huh. And do you remember two days ago?”
“Do you mean when I didn’t get to school in time to pick you up?”
Krissy nodded again, her face tight with tension, but she didn’t say anything as she bit down hard enough on her lower lip to make it go bloodless.
“Yeah… What about it?” Cindy said, still trying to keep the demanding edge out of her voice. The tension winding up inside her was almost unbearable.
“Well, he was there,” Krissy said in a deep, quavering voice.
“Who? Do you mean the man in the white van?”
“Yeah,” Krissy replied. “He tried to follow me when I was walking home, but then she… she helped me out.”
“Who did?” Cindy almost shouted. “Who helped you out?”
“The… the blue lady,” Krissy replied, barely above a whisper.
“The blue lady,” Cindy echoed.
“Uh-huh.” Krissy said, nodding vigorously. “See, I was pretty sure I knew the way home, but then she showed up and told me which way to go.”
“You mean she spoke to you?”
Krissy shook her head. “No, no, but she pointed the way for me to go, down a different road than the one I thought I should take, and when I did, I saw him drive by… in his white van.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. He was going real slow, like he was looking for someone.”
“Did he stop? Did he see you?”
“No, I hid behind a tree and then cut through some yards to keep away from him.”
“That was a smart thing to do, but how do you know he was looking for you?”
Krissy shrugged tightly. “Because she wouldn’t have been there unless I needed help.”
Cindy’s legs were starting to go numb from kneeling down for so long, so she straightened up to get the circulation going again.
“This isn’t just something you’re making up, now, is it?” she asked.
Biting her lower lip, Krissy shook her head in vigorous denial and shrank away from her aunt as though she feared she was about to strike her. Her eyes twitched nervously back and forth as though she expected to see someone else in the kitchen with them. Her thin chest rose and fell rapidly as she panted, trying to get enough air into her lungs to continue speaking.
“No, I—I saw him… well, not him, really, ’cause his van has dark windows, but I saw his van, and it was the same one I saw parked outside the school one day last week. Remember that rainy day when you picked me up?”
Cindy nodded, although her memory wasn’t all that clear.
“She was pointing at a car in front of the school, like she wanted me to see it. And then—well, for a whole bunch of nights, now, she woke me up and has shown me where he’s parked out there on the street in front of our apartment.”
“Well… I don’t know,” Cindy said. She spoke slowly, trying to keep at bay the rushing currents of fear that were rising up inside her. “Maybe he—he’s just a… he probably lives in one of the apartments nearby.”
But her words didn’t even begin to reassure herself, much less Krissy. The dark, gnawing worry had blossomed full strength in her mind. She couldn’t forget or ignore the dozens—no, hundreds, maybe thousands of times she had been convinced there was someone lurking nearby, keeping a close watch on them but staying just out of sight. She had never seen anyone or anything suspicious, but for weeks now, she had definitely felt a presence. All along she had been trying to convince herself that it was just her paranoia, her near-constant worry that the authorities would eventually nail her for kidnapping the kids.
But maybe that wasn’t it… Not if Krissy had been feeling it, too… Not if she had actually seen someone watching them… Not if someone had tried to follow her home that day!
Cindy’s throat went suddenly dry. Whimpering softly, she pulled Krissy close to her and hugged her tightly. A warm, well-spring of tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back. A cold, steady pressure was squeezing her heart like a fist.
God help us, she thought, wanting to cry but knowing she had to be strong if only for Krissy’s sake. They’ve found us!… Someone found us!
2
For the first time in her life, Cindy wished she had ordered tinted windows for her car back when she had bought it. That way, she might not have felt quite so foolish when she parked between two cars in the Pine Knoll Elementary School parking lot and sat slouched behind the steering wheel like she was a private detective on a stake out. What did she expect to see, anyway?
In spite of the three Extra-Strength Tylenols she had taken earlier, the headache that had started during her conversation with Billy at the breakfast table had only gotten worse throughout the morning. Her temples were throbbing with a dull ache. It was almost eleven o’clock now, and she wanted to take some more Tylenol. She never could swallow pills dry, and wished now that she’d had the foresight to bring along something to wash them down—a can of Diet-Pepsi or something—but she certainly didn’t want to leave the parking lot now.
She didn’t dare.
After dropping Krissy off at school, she had decided on the spur of the moment to sit out here for a little while and watch. She could barely admit it to herself, but she knew what she was looking for—she was waiting to see if that white van that Krissy had mentioned would show up. More than likely, it was just like that “blue lady” Krissy was always talking about; the product of a little girl’s overactive imagination.
Cindy half-suspected, or at least she wanted to believe that there was absolutely nothing to worry about. She told herself repeatedly that she was overreacting to an accumulation of everything she and the kids had been through over the past few months. She was letting little things, like a few things going wrong with the apartment, ruin her day. She heaved a sigh as she massaged her temples, but that didn’t do any good. Maybe, she thought, what it all came down to was she didn’t want to accept the idea that she had actually pulled it off, that she had saved her sister’s kids from their abusive, murdering father. If the police and FBI were actively searching for her, they certainly should have found her by now. She was leaving a trail that a blind hound dog could have followed.
What if she went back to Omaha and challenged Alex for legal custody of the kids? What if she could even convince the police to investigate if Alex had murdered Debbie?
Or maybe it was living with the kids that was getting to her. Maybe she was feeling guilty that she had stolen them away from their father. Maybe she felt unco
mfortable with the idea that now she was the closest thing Billy and Krissy had to a family. She was absolutely convinced that Harry had used this situation to get her out of his life, and she had long since given up on ever seeing him again.
Why else would he be so completely out of touch? It was like he had dropped off the face of the earth. She was sure, if something had happened to him, that she would have found out about it somehow. Besides, she wasn’t having any trouble drawing money from the bank in Omaha. If something was wrong, they no doubt would have put a freeze on the funds.
Maybe she was just having a tough time because she felt so completely isolated from her former life back in Nebraska. She couldn’t deny that she missed her friends and job—her sister Debbie most of all—but now that life felt like it had all been a dream… or someone else’s life. She knew she could never go back, but that left the future wide open, and that was scary.
But she couldn’t quite accept that this was what her life had become. She didn’t like living in a dumpy apartment and wondering every minute if the next phone call or knock on the door was going to be the police. And even if the police never did find her, she was starting to question if she was really ready for the long-term commitment of raising two kids alone.
She couldn’t deny that she was alone, and she was beginning to suspect that no amount of love and affection from Krissy and Billy could compensate for what she had given up for their sake and for the sake of her dead sister.
Perhaps she was beginning to regret her decision, that it had been absolutely foolish to do what she had done. Debbie’s will had specified that she wanted Cindy to take care of her kids if she died, but what if she wasn’t up for it?
Or maybe, because she certainly couldn’t focus the blame or any of her anger on the kids, she was beginning to resent what she had done to herself and had come to hate herself for throwing away the rest of her life.
Should she consider giving up the children? She couldn’t very well send them back to their father, but rather than pursue legal custody of them, perhaps she should turn them over to the state and be rid of them. Then she could see what kind of life she could make for herself. Why did she have to be the one making all the sacrifices?
Didn’t she deserve better?
Maybe she should make an appointment to see a lawyer—today—and begin finding out what the laws in Maine were regarding child custody. She was fairly well established in Portland, though she should get a job so she could prove that she could provide for them.
Such thoughts instantly vanished from her mind when she saw a white van pull up and stop at the curb in front of the school. For a shattering instant, Cindy thought she must be imagining it, but after shaking her head and rubbing her eyes, she saw that it was still there. Holding her breath until it began to hurt, she watched tensely. But no one got out of the van, at least not right away. She could see the indistinct silhouette of the driver, sitting hunched behind the steering wheel, but there was almost no movement. The thin cloud of exhaust from the back of the van indicated that the driver had left the van running.
Cindy jumped and screamed out loud when the school bell suddenly rang with a shrill clang that signalled recess. Within seconds the school doors burst open, and the playground was filled with shouting, laughing children. Spontaneous games of kick ball and tag started up, and the swings, slides, and monkey bars were instantly crowded with squealing kids. Cindy scanned the crowded schoolyard, trying to pick out Krissy, but didn’t see her. She tensed when her eyes shifted back to the waiting van.
It was still there, idling at the curb. The driver seemed not to have moved at all. Cindy gripped the steering wheel tightly as strong surges of fear, anger, and doubt rippled through her. Her chest felt like it was tightly bound with metal bands that kept her from taking too deep a breath as she stared at the van, waiting for something—anything to happen.
Who the hell are you? What the Christ are you doing here? she wondered. What the fuck do you want?
Tears welled up in her eyes, and a sick, sour taste filled the back of her throat as another thought occurred to her.
I hope you’re not waiting out here to see my little girl!
“Yes, goddamnit!” Cindy said in a high, shattered whisper. “She’s mine now!”
The palms of her hands were aching from the grip she maintained on the steering wheel. Her throat felt raw as tears streamed from her eyes, carving warm tracks down her face.
“She’s my little girl, goddamnit, and no one… no one is going to take her away from me!”
3
Cindy was trembling so badly with emotion that she thought both Krissy and her teacher couldn’t help but notice how she looked when she picked Krissy up after school. Once they got back to the apartment, she had a short argument with Billy when he said he wanted to go over to Michael’s house to play, but then she surprised him when she told him, instead, he could have his friends in to play Nintendo. As it was, she didn’t want either of the children out of her sight even for a few minutes, so when Krissy asked if she could go and ride her bike, Cindy went with her.
The weather was mild and sunny, and a cool breeze was blowing in off the ocean, but Cindy found herself breaking out in a sweat, like a patient trying to break a fever as she sat down on the front steps and started browsing through an old issue of Entertainment Weekly. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought that she was coming down with the flu, but she knew—all too well!—what was working on her nerves.
Her fear for the children’s safety!
The arc of bright blue sky and the interplay of sunlight and shadow gave the street a clean, vibrant look that reminded her of Omaha. Although she still hadn’t found anyone to play with, Krissy seemed happy to be riding her bike around the church parking lot across the street. Through the open living room window, Cindy could hear Billy and his friends hooting with laughter as they played their video games. Most of the time, though, she kept a wary watch up and down the street, dreading another glimpse of that white van. One time she thought she saw it flash by at the far end of the street, going up Forest Avenue, but it was out of sight before she got a good look at it.
All day long her headache had been pounding away like a jackhammer at the inside of her skull. At times, the pain was so sharp it affected her sight, making tiny white stars zigzag across her field of vision. Her insides felt knotted up and rubbery and she felt wrung out—exhausted from the pain, worry, and fear. She was terrified that the slightest thing would trigger the flood of tears she felt building up inside her, but she knew damned well, no matter how tired she felt right now, she wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight even after the kids were tucked safely into bed. The strain of constant tension was like a chronic, lingering illness, and she didn’t dare contemplate what she might have to do to cure it.
Although she hadn’t seen the white van again since this morning, she couldn’t get rid of the persistent feeling that the driver was still lurking around here somewhere, keeping a watchful eye on them. Every shadow around every corner, and every window and darkened doorway of every building on the Street seemed to vibrate with hidden menace. In the corner of her eye, she caught glimpses of thin, fleeting shadows that shifted out of sight just before she turned to look at them. Sunlight glinted off reflective surfaces, leaving bright trailing afterimages that blossomed and faded like fireworks in her vision. Whenever a car drove by, she would tense up and lean forward, staring at the driver as though she expected to see him pointing a rifle at her head.
Who the hell is he? she repeated to herself over and over again. Who the hell is he, and what the hell does he want?
Although she tried to deny it, she was afraid that she already knew the answer.
Someone had found them!
It didn’t matter if it was the state or local police or the FBI, or whomever—someone seemed to be checking them out to make sure it was her before he made his move.
Cindy took a deep, shuddering breath an
d forced a smile when Krissy called out to her from the far end of the parking lot.
“Hey, Aunt Cindy!” she shouted. “Watch this! I can ride with no hands!”
Before Cindy could yell for her to be careful, Krissy pedaled hard a few times, then sat back on her seat, balanced herself, and quickly lifted both hands up off the handlebars. She went no more than ten feet with her hands held high over her head before the bike started to wobble, and she had to grab the handlebars again and continue pedaling to maintain her balance.
“Wow, that’s great!” Cindy shouted, clapping her hands excitedly and hoping to God she didn’t look and sound as phony as she felt.
Good Lord, she’s beautiful! she thought, watching the sunlight and shadow play across Krissy’s round, smiling face.
And it’s just not fair that someone as precious and innocent as Krissy had to go through something like this… something so heart wrenching and utterly horrible that she doesn’t even realize a tenth of how terrible it is!
Cindy was swept up by a painful, almost overwhelming rush of sadness as she watched Krissy ride. Her face was set with grim determination as she positioned herself on the bike again, got her momentum going, and tried to go even further, riding without holding on. She suddenly squealed out loud, and Cindy jumped to her feet in panic when she saw the front wheel of Krissy’s bike hit something and almost flip out from under her; but before Cindy could take even one step forward, Krissy caught the handlebars and righted herself. Her face was pale, and she was obviously trembling when she stopped and, straddling her bike, smiled back at her aunt.
“I’m okay!” she shouted, apparently satisfied with her efforts.
We’re going to have to leave!
The thought was there, shouting inside Cindy’s mind long before she had dared acknowledge it.
We’re going to have to run again!
Her eyes began to sting and tears blurred her vision as she stood there, staring back at Krissy. Her heart was filled with a deep, aching sadness when she thought about how she would do anything… absolutely anything to protect that little girl and her brother.
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