“A couple of days ago, I got a flat tire and was late picking up Krissy…”she said, staring blankly at the kitchen wall as the memory came into sharper focus in her mind. Second by second, she could feel her eyes widening with her rising terror. “Just after I’d pulled over to the side of the road, I remember a van… a van went by.” Wide-eyed, she focused on Alice. “A white van.”
“Yeah? So what?” Alice said. “I mean, I’m pretty sure there are at least one or two white vans in the Greater Portland area.”
“Yeah, but the driver tooted his horn at me. I couldn’t see who it was, but I remember wondering at the time who the hell would drive by, apparently recognize me, but then not stop to help out.”
She stepped forward, grabbing both of Alice’s arms at the elbows, and squeezed tightly.
“What if that was the same person then, too?” she said in a tremulous whisper. “What if he had followed me out to Fort Williams that day and then did something to make my tire blow? Put a nail in it or something. Jesus, Alice! What if he set the whole thing up so he could try to nab Krissy? What if it had all been part of his plan?”
Alice took a step back, breaking Cindy’s hold on her arms, and shook her head. “Well, I don’t know, Cindy. I don’t mean to sound nasty or anything, but you’re sounding awfully paranoid to me.” She concluded with a nervous sniffle of laughter.
“What, and you wouldn’t be?” Cindy snapped. “Christ All Mighty, Alice, there has to be someone following us! Someone’s trying to get these kids away from me!”
“But he didn’t. Krissy got away from him,” Alice said. She was still sounding too damned reasonable.
“Yeah, but only because the blue—” Cindy had been about to tell Alice what Krissy had told her about the blue lady, but she stopped herself. It was already pretty clear that Alice thought she might be losing it. “What if he tries again?” she said. “I bet to Christ he’ll try again!”
“If you’re so sure of that, then why don’t you tell the police about it?” Alice said, staring at her and looking a bit befuddled.
“Oh, yeah—sure!” Cindy slapped her hands against her thighs. “How the hell could I do that? They’re not my kids, remember? I kidnapped them from their own goddamned father!”
“Umm, yeah. Good point there,” Alice said, nodding. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that the coffee was ready. She went over to the cupboard and, again without asking, took down two coffee mugs, picked up the carafe, and started to pour.
“Cream and sugar?” she asked as she slid the first full cup across the counter in Cindy’s direction.
“Just some milk… thanks,” Cindy said distractedly. She stared ahead blankly, lost in thought as Alice took a half gallon of skim milk from the refrigerator and poured a dash into her coffee. It barely changed the color, but she didn’t care. Right now, good tasting coffee wasn’t very high on her list of concerns.
“But what if it is someone trying to get the kids?” Cindy asked. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded numbed and completely detached. She felt weak and helpless, and wished she could just disappear right then and there, simply melt into the floor and be gone! Try as she might, though, she couldn’t stop the memory of that day from replaying over and over in her mind. She closed her eyes and gripping the edge of the counter for balance, tried to picture exactly what had happened and what she had said and thought and done when she had seen that van go by and honk at her.
Yes, by Jesus! It had been a white van, no doubt about it, and as far as she could remember, it was just like the one she and Krissy had seen outside on the street tonight!
A cold, clutching sensation tightened around her chest and wouldn’t stop squeezing.
But was it the same white van, the one that, later that same afternoon, while she was occupied getting her tire fixed, had followed Krissy home only she lost him at the corner? Was she making all of this up, or were they all really in danger?
She scalded her mouth when she opened her eyes and unconsciously took a sip of the hot coffee, but shaking it off, she placed the cup down on the counter beside her and nailed Alice with a piercing stare.
“Look, Alice, I don’t want to get you any more involved in this than you already are. I mean, as it is, you could probably be arrested for aiding and abetting a criminal or something.”
“Believe me,” Alice said with a reassuring smile, “I think I can handle myself.”
Cindy cleared her throat and shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “Well, then, can I ask you one favor? Just one?”
“Anything you want,” Alice said.
Even though her smile widened so Cindy knew she meant it, Cindy had the fleeting impression that Alice was simply going along with all of this to humor her in hopes that, come morning, she would realize that it had all been some wild fabrication of her overactive imagination.
And maybe that’s all it is, she thought with a bone-deep shiver, but no matter what else, she couldn’t deny that a whole series of subconscious alarms were going off, clanging and hooting like the tornado alarms that were so common on those heavy, humid summer days back home in Nebraska. She couldn’t deny her conviction that something was wrong, and she knew that she would be a fool not to listen to her own intuition.
“I think I need to borrow your car,” Cindy said at last. Each word felt like dried, crusty sand in her mouth, and she had to lick her lips repeatedly with the tip of her tongue.
“My car,” Alice echoed.
Cindy nodded. “Yup. If someone’s on to us, changing cars might throw him off, at least long enough for us to get away. We’ve got a place to go to, a place we were heading to when we first got here, but I got sidetracked and ended up in Portland, instead. Maybe now’s the time for us to go there before… well, before things totally get out of control.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Alice asked. Her face was creased with an expression of genuine concern for her friend as she stepped close to Cindy and rested one hand on her shoulder. Cindy covered Alice’s hand with her own, smiled, and gave Alice’s hand a gentle squeeze.
“Of course I am… at least I’m sure I will be,” she said softly. “I think the really important thing right now is for me to take the kids and leave.”
“Where will you go?” Alice asked.
Cindy had the sharp impression that Alice was deeply saddened to hear that she had to be leaving, but she shook her head with resolve and said, “I told you. We have a place. Look, I don’t want to sound too melodramatic or paranoid, as you put it, but for your own protection, I probably shouldn’t tell you.”
“Bullshit!” Alice snapped. “And anyway, how will you get your car back? I don’t want to sound ornery about it or anything, but your car’s just a little bit better than my old rust bucket. I don’t want to stick you with something like that.”
Cindy shrugged as if she didn’t care and, in truth, she didn’t, as long as she could do everything within her power to make sure Krissy and Billy were safe.
“I’m not worried about it, honest,” she said, “but once we get settled, I’ll give you a call and we can arrange to meet and swap back. Where we’re going isn’t very far from here… at least I don’t think so.”
“And you’re sure you’re all right?” Alice asked, nailing her again with an intense but caring look.
“Yes, honest. Stop worrying.”
“Okay, then,” Alice said, nodding as she picked up her cup of coffee and took her first tentative sip. “Just let me have a gulp or two of this, then I’ll get dressed and help you get packed.”
“No, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
PART FOUR
TO THE LAKE
Chapter Nineteen
Running Again
Something was wrong.
Alex could sense it almost from the instant he pulled the van to a stop in the church parking lot. Twisting around in his seat and resting his elbow on the steering
wheel, he leaned against the driver’s door so he could keep a close watch on the apartment building across the street. A bright wash of morning sunlight made the white building stand out starkly against the brilliant blue of the sky. Towering white puffs of clouds were moving slowly across the horizon from west to east.
Frowning deeply, Alex carefully peeled back the arrowhead tab on the plastic cover on the coffee he’d bought at Dunkin’ Donuts and stirred in a packet of sugar and two cups of Half-and-half. He took a slurping sip, all the while keeping his gaze fastened on the upstairs living room window. At least so far, he hadn’t caught even the slightest hint of activity up there, and he knew, by now, he should have.
“What the fuck?” he muttered.
He glanced over at the driveway and saw that Cindy’s car was parked right where she always left it, in front of the weather-beaten door of the garage.
From every other morning he’d sat out here, he knew that Cindy and the kids should be bustling around by now, getting ready for school. Every day he would see the dim silhouette of at least one if not all of them shift past the upstairs window. Sighing with frustration and trying to ignore the subtle winding of tension in his stomach, he glanced at his watch. It was seven thirty-three. Cursing softly, he held his watch up to his ear to make sure it was still ticking.
“Yeah, takes a lickin’ but keeps on tickin’,” he whispered, but he found almost no humor in it.
He knew from experience that, within a few minutes, he should see Billy come out the front door and, leaping from the porch to the ground, head out for school. On some days, apparently whenever he was running a little late, his two buddies would come around to meet up with him. So far today Billy wasn’t late, but Alex couldn’t ignore the cold churning deep in the pit of his stomach that was telling him something… something was seriously wrong.
“Fucking Christ,” he whispered, leaning forward and straining to see any indication of activity up there in the second floor apartment. He considered fishing out the pair of binoculars he had bought but didn’t want to take his eyes off the building for even a second. He started jiggling his foot impatiently on the floor as he wondered what could have gone wrong and what he should do about it.
Oh, yeah… sure as shit, something was wrong, but what was it? Could one of the kids be sick? Maybe both of them had caught colds and were staying home from school today. Even so, though, Alex expected to see Cindy move past the front window at least once or twice.
… Unless she was sick, too.
Shit, yes! Wouldn’t that be something? Alex thought with a widening smile, but all he could feel was nervousness about what might have gone wrong.
He took a sip of his coffee, swallowed noisily, and waited. After several minutes, he saw Billy’s two friends come around the side of the building. Both were carrying backpacks and had their baseball hats on backwards as they stood at the foot of the steps and looked up at the apartment windows. One of them cupped his hands to his mouth and, leaning back, called out, “Yo! Hey! Billy!”
His high-pitched voice echoed dully in the chilled morning air. Alex watched as the two boys exchanged meaningful glances; then the other one counted with his forefinger—one, two, three—and they both shouted for all they were worth.
“Bil-ly!”
Alex’s tension grew steadily stronger as he watched them wait for several seconds, and still there was no response from the upstairs apartment. After a moment, one of them called out, “See yah later!” They settled their backpacks on their backs, then cut across the yard and disappeared behind the building.
By the time they were out of sight, Alex was feeling nervous as hell. Someone should have come to the window by now, even if it was one of the neighbors, complaining about the noise this early in the morning.
What the fuck is going on here? Alex wondered as he stroked the rough beard stubble on his chin.
After several more minutes of watching, his impatience finally boiled over. He popped open the door, dumped the remains of his coffee onto the ground, and started across the parking lot toward the building, all the while keeping his eyes focused on the upstairs window. He was positive, now, that there was no one inside the apartment. Grunting, he mounted the front steps, shouldered open the door, and went up to the second floor landing. His feet stomped heavily on the creaking stairway.
Clenching one hand into a fist, he pounded heavily on the closed door three or four times; then he stood back and counted to ten, waiting for someone to answer.
But he knew no one would answer.
His heart-sank with the thought that—somehow—Cindy must have caught on to him and had split during the night.
“Shit, the mother-fucking little bitch!” he hissed between clenched teeth.
He didn’t wait to knock a second time. Turning the doorknob as hard as he could to one side, he rammed his shoulder against the door. With a sharp, crackling sound of splitting wood, the apartment door sprang open and Alex staggered inside.
“Hey, is anybody home?” he called out in a light, teasing “Big Bad Wolf’ voice. He brushed his hands on his pants legs before tiptoeing into the living room. Everything appeared to be perfectly normal, just the way it had been the other day, but the silence in the apartment seemed somehow different. When he glanced over toward the window and saw that the television set and Nintendo game were gone, he knew for sure that Cindy had bolted.
“Jesus Christ!” he sputtered as he stalked from the living room into the kitchen and looked around. “Jesus H. Goddamn Mother-fuckin’ Christ!”
All of the furniture was just the way he remembered it, but a quick check through the kitchen cupboards revealed that most of the dishes and glasses, and all of the food he had seen there only a few days ago was gone. His face flushed with anger as he stomped down the hallway toward the bedrooms. He pushed open the door to Krissy’s bedroom and uttered a loud curse when he saw that all of her bureau drawers had been pulled open and emptied. The closet door hung half-way open, and he could see that none of the few clothes she had were there.
Boiling with anger, he walked over to the bureau, grabbed the drawers, and threw them onto the floor. Sputtering incoherent curses, he started kicking the drawers, caving in their sides and bottoms until they were nothing but splinters.
Seconds later, when the first rush of anger had begun to subside, he stood in the middle of the room, panting as he stared at the bare mattress cover. A bright ray of sunlight came in through the open window, illuminating the gray swirls of dust he had stirred up. After giving the bureau one last solid kick, he left the room, knowing that he didn’t need to check the rest of the bedrooms.
Cindy and the kids were long gone!
“Mother fucker!” he shouted. “Mother-fuckin’-fucker!”
He gritted his teeth and shook his fists at the ceiling. Then, letting out a wild whoop, he spun around on his heel and smashed his fist against the wall. The cheap wallboard caved in, leaving a hole about the size of a softball. A red haze of anger filled him, tingling every nerve in his body as he let out another wild stream of curses and started kicking and punching the hallway walls. He was so swept up in his fury and rage that he almost didn’t notice the voice that called out from the living room.
“Uhh… excuse me…?”
2
It had taken Alice and Cindy most of the night to pack up everyone’s clothes and throw the very basics—food, plates, glasses, cooking utensils, silverware, and a few toiletries—into cardboard boxes. Not wanting to lug around anything more than necessary, Cindy had decided to leave the TV and Super Nintendo behind, but Billy insisted they bring it, maintaining that once they got to the lake, he wouldn’t have any friends to play with or anything else to do. Krissy had been quiet the whole time, but whenever Cindy or Alice checked on her, thinking she had fallen asleep on the couch while the adults did all the heavy work, they had been surprised to find her still wide awake.
All during the time they were packing, Alice continued t
o drink coffee, so by five o’clock in the morning, after seeing Cindy and the kids off, she had gone back to bed but had been too wired to sleep. She lay awake, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about how sad she had felt, watching Cindy and the kids leave. The night air had been winter-brisk and gray traces of morning light had just been starting to tinge the eastern sky as her car, on loan to Cindy, sent up a thick plume of exhaust as it headed down Coyne Street toward Forest Avenue. Although she hadn’t gotten to know Cindy very well, Alice had genuinely liked her and felt sympathy for her situation. She had been looking forward to spending more time with her once—if ever—things started settling down at her job; but now that opportunity—like so many other opportunities in her life, she thought—was gone forever. A little after seven o’clock, she called work and told them that she was sick and wouldn’t be in that day.
Her first thought when she heard the heavy clomp of footsteps coming up the stairs was that Cindy had forgotten something and had come back for it. She slipped out of bed, pulled on her tattered bathrobe, and went to the door to peek out through the fish-eye lens, but by the time she got there, all she could see was the door to Cindy’s apartment across the hall hanging halfway open. She clearly remembered that Cindy had closed and locked the door behind her after carrying the last load of boxes downstairs, so even though those footsteps in the hallway had sounded much too loud to be Cindy’s, Alice figured it had to be her. After struggling to get her door unlocked, Alice walked across the hall just as a loud crash sounded from somewhere inside the apartment.
“Hello, Cindy…?” she called out tentatively.
She wondered why Cindy would come back here, certainly not to start trashing the place. Glancing back at her own apartment, Alice thought that it might not be such a bad idea to go back and call the police first, but she decided against that, just in case this was Cindy. Stepping gingerly into the living room and craning her head forward, she tried to see what was going on in the darkened hallway.
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