~~~
The lack of a full moon meant Dylan’s headlights made it difficult for him to see very far off the roadway. He’d probably have done better to turn them off, but safety dictated they stay on. Dylan drove north, squinting into the darkness on his right, with his peripheral vision on the roadway. His heart was hammering like he’d run five miles, driving red clouds over his vision with every beat. In truth, Dylan was in no better shape to be on the road than Paul was. She had to be okay, she just had to be! He had barely found her again; he couldn’t lose her now.
This was too much of a coincidence, coming after his accident. Shit, no accident. Someone had tried to kill him, and now something just as bad might have happened to his Lexi. He slammed his good hand into the steering wheel. Where was she? He’d kill anyone who harmed her. Dylan drew a deep breath. He needed to calm down. He couldn’t help her if he had another wreck.
Think! What linked them? A high school romance couldn’t have been enough to want to see one or the other of them dead, could it? Even a jealous… Joe! Joe had been acting weird, and he’d warned Dylan off Alex’s trail. Sure, he was a show-off, always had been. But harmless. The kind of guy everyone knew was all talk.
Dylan couldn’t believe that was it, though. You didn’t run people off the road over a little jealousy, unless you were a maniac. Joe wasn’t a maniac, was he? What else linked Alex and him? Dylan’s brain was on autopilot from anxiety and lack of sleep. When the answer came, it was like a sunrise. Rufio! Pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. Before he could do anything about his theory though, he had to find Alex at all costs.
If Dylan or the Highway Patrol couldn’t find Alex tonight, her chances weren’t good. He refused to consider the fact she was already more than four hours overdue. A lot could happen in four hours. If he was too late…no, don’t think that way.
By three-thirty a.m., he had reached Gila Bend with no sign of her. He stopped at a truck stop for coffee and a restroom break, filled up with gas and headed back. With any luck, this was an unnecessary exercise. Either Alex had stayed in Casa Grande for some reason and forgot to notify her dad, or the Highway Patrol would have found her.
The first was so unlikely it was laughable. Sadly, if the second were true, surely Paul would have called him by now. Wearily, Dylan got back on the road, fighting fatigue to keep his eyes glued to the shoulder and a few yards beyond for any sign of an accident. At this rate, he’d be back in Dodge by around four-thirty, and somehow he would have to head for work two hours later or risk the job he had to have to be sure he’d get custody of his brothers. He swerved off the roadway and barely made it out of the car before his dinner and the drinks he’d had came up. How could he go to work if Alex was still missing? How could he justify not going to work, with last Saturday’s missed day already an issue? He couldn’t lose either Lexi or his job, and yet, there was a very real possibility he’d lose both. It was going to be a long, long day.
Nothing out of the ordinary, and no cars on the road were all Dylan had to report when he got to Paul’s house shortly after four. He had called ahead to let Paul know he’d found nothing and would be dropping by. Paul opened the door and startled him by lunging at him for a hug. When Dylan could catch his breath to speak, he asked the obvious question.
“They’ve found her?” There was a moment’s confusion.
Paul said, “They have? Where? Is she okay?” Once they’d straightened out that Dylan had asked a question rather than making a statement, Paul slumped in disappointment. “No, I haven’t heard anything.”
It was true the stretch from Gila Bend to Casa Grande was longer than the leg he’d covered. Equally true was the fact the Highway Patrol probably hadn’t gone as slowly as he had, or looked as carefully. But, why was she not anywhere along the highway? Dylan was as baffled as her dad. Neither of them knew who her current friends were, or where else to call. Dylan didn’t even remember the names of the girls she hung out with in school. Paul said he’d call around at a more decent hour this morning, but he couldn’t think of anyone she’d spend the night with, either. There was nothing more they could do.
Dylan apologized to Paul, told him he needed to be at work and excused himself, feeling worthless. Wasn’t Alex more important than any job? Of course she was, but what could he do besides sit with Paul, wringing his hands? Finding her now was going to require a full-on search and rescue mission, which was hours away by law enforcement policy. He had an hour to sleep before he needed to get up and head to ORPI. Of course, he wouldn’t be able to sleep, but at least he’d close his eyes to rest them. Even so, he was going to show up at work looking like he’d been on an all-night bender.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Wednesday July 23
The sun streamed in the windows, heating the place to just shy of unbearable and beating on Alex’s closed eyelids until she opened them. Her body jerked as she became aware she wasn’t in her room at home. Nothing looked familiar, and the place was way too small. A sharp pain invaded her head when she tried to turn it, forcing her to freeze and take a gasping breath.
She ran her eyes around what she could see without turning her head. A white ceiling, made of the type of paneling popular for mobile homes and RVs, fake wood paneling on the walls, an old fashioned window that rotated small horizontal panes outward when you turned the crank. Four walls, including the one her head was against, though to see it would require stretching her neck and moving her head. Not going to happen.
Where the hell was she? How did she get here? Alex searched her memory for the last thing she remembered before she went to sleep. Joe. Joe stopping her on the highway, the conversation turning weird. Being shoved into the squad car. Then nothing. Carefully, to avoid hurting her head again, she wiggled her feet and hands. No problems there, everything moved.
She cast her eyes downward, seeing with relief she was still wearing her clothes. It didn’t prove Joe hadn’t done something awful to her while she was out, but it reassured her anyway. As weird as he was last night, would he have dressed her again, if he’d…? She didn’t want to think about it, in case thinking about it made it real. A sob escaped her as she thought about Dylan instead, and how sweetly he’d taken her virginity. If Joe raped her, would she ever enjoy sex again? Rage replaced the sadness. Joe wouldn’t get away with this. She’d get away…she had to. Next, she tried to lift her right arm. Problem. The left one came with it. Raising them high enough to see without moving her head, she discovered her wrists were bound together with what looked like duct tape. That made her try the legs…same thing. No sooner did she realize she was trussed like a Thanksgiving turkey than she got the sudden urge to pee, followed by an intense thirst.
Her head was just going to have to fend for itself, as she squirmed around to get to a seated position on the padded bench where she woke up.
“Joe,” she croaked, startling herself with the sound of her own voice. No answer. The place was too small for him to be hiding out of her sight. He wasn’t here. Damn, she needed to pee! How was she going to manage, bound hand and foot?
If she could stand and maybe hop to the little bathroom she was hoping to find in the RV, maybe she could also figure out how to get her shorts and panties pulled down. Otherwise, there was going to be a mess here soon. Getting a drink of water might not be quite so complicated. Her hands were fully operative, just bound at the wrists with the left wrist crossed over the right. It would be awkward, but she should be able to do this.
First priority: water. Alex knew as well as anyone who was raised around here that water was vital to survival. No matter how badly she had to pee, the water came first. Wincing in anticipation of the pain to her head, Alex lunged to her feet with effort and hopped to the galley sink on the opposite wall. No results came from turning the knob. The water tank was empty, then. She still had hope. Maybe there were bottles of water somewhere. She checked the fridge first. Two bottles, but they weren’t cold. They’d have to do. Instinctively, she
took only a tiny sip and saved the rest.
It was easy getting to the bathroom, but she couldn’t negotiate the twists and turns required to close the door behind her, so she left it open. She didn’t know whether to worry someone would find her in a compromised position or hope they did. If the Universe wanted to play that little joke on her, she was fine with it as long as whoever found her was a rescuer. Her mind skittered away from the real issue.
She unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts, again with difficulty, caused by the angle of her bound wrists. Then she pushed an inch at a time on each side of the waistband, wiggling as she pushed until shorts and panties finally dropped. Afterward, relieved of the pressure on her bladder, she went through the motions of pulling up her clothes, only to realize it wasn’t going to be as easy as getting them off. The little bathroom was cramped and stifling. With no water in the tank, she couldn’t flush.
Claustrophobia sent her stumbling out of the tiny room. She’d have to finish the job when she was back in the main cabin of the RV. Where the hell was Joe? Would he come back before she was decent? Would it even matter, since she seemed to be defenseless at the moment anyway?
What in the world did he expect to gain by taking her? How did he expect to get away with it? She knew who took her. Alex started shaking when she realized the truth. Joe couldn’t let her walk away from this. No matter what else he did, he’d have to kill her when he was done with whatever he had in mind. It wasn’t just a matter of finding enough water to survive until he came back. She had to find a way to defend herself, or better, get away before he returned. Where had he gone? When would he be back?
She wished she could remember what she said to set him off. One minute he was the guy she had dated before, clumsily flirting with her. And the next, he was mad as hell, ordering her to get out of her car and stuffing her into his. She didn’t get it. It shouldn’t be hard to track their movements from her car to wherever she was now, or at least point rescuers in the right direction. She’d left her car on the side of the road. How long had it been? How long would she have to wait for someone to come looking for her?
That brought her back in a circle to the water. She’d better see if she could find more stashed somewhere, because who knew how long it would take someone to find her? Assuming Joe didn’t come to his senses and let her go. She could reason with him. She knew him. Refusing to consider the other side of that fact, Alex resolved not to be angry with him when he came back. She’d persuade him everything was forgiven, if he’d just take her home.
Then she thought of her dad. Persuading him to forgive and forget might not be so simple. Since it was morning, Alex assumed it was Wednesday. Dad would have been frantic when she didn’t come home last night, so she was sure a search party was looking for her even now. Her car was nondescript, a ten-year-old silver Sentra, but it certainly didn’t belong on the side of the road. Someone would get curious. It would give them a place to start looking. If Joe hadn’t taken her far…
All this logic had kept her from being panicked so far. She assessed her condition as fair, the head still pounding but the pain manageable. She had emptied her bladder, got her clothes back on more or less properly, though the panties were bunched uncomfortably in back. She had found enough water to keep her alive for the day assuming it didn’t get hot enough in this RV to cook her. Because it wasn’t already cooking her, she assumed it was still pretty early in the morning, maybe eight o’clock or so. Was the RV parked where it would get some shade later? Silly question, she should just open the door and see, though she didn’t think she would set out hopping across the desert, unless she could see a landmark to give her a reasonable target. The silly thought made her chuckle, which sobered her quickly. Her mind wasn’t working quite right. Had she hit her head on something? That would explain the headache.
Alex got to her feet and hopped to the door this time, past the bathroom and a small pantry on the other side of the RV. A lever mechanism operated the door, but neither pushing it down nor pulling it up opened the door. Locked. Determined to learn whether there would be shade when the sun was at its hottest, she hopped around the RV, peering out the windows where she could. Along the side where her bench was, all she could see was orangey-red sandstone. The RV was parked so close to an outcropping that there was nothing else to see. It was a fifth-wheel type, so the window at the front was too high for her to see out. A bed area rested atop a shelf at just about at her head level, with a table surrounded by benches on three sides underneath. Facing that way, the bench she woke up on was to her left, the galley opposite the bench, a tiny pantry and storage area and the little bathroom to the rear, along with the locked door on the back side. She could see nothing except the sandstone wall.
Stymied, she decided it didn’t matter anyway. It was parked to get shade, or it wasn’t. There was nothing she could do about it either way. The best thing for her to do was try to relax, not raise her body temperature with unnecessary movement, and hope for the best. Dad would be proud of her for being so calm, she congratulated herself, just before her adrenaline spiked in a full-fledged panic attack.
~~~
Dylan couldn’t settle down, going through the motions of his paperwork while his thoughts were on whether Alex was safe. It wasn’t until noon, when he had his lunch break, that he thought about whether Paul’s paper would come out today with the story of Rufio’s identification. The park didn’t have a newsstand, but usually one of the volunteers would bring in a copy if there was anything of interest to the park. Before he ate his hastily-packed lunch, he went to the Visitor’s Center to check. The grandmotherly, white-haired lady at the information desk was apologetic.
“No, dear, I’m sorry. I didn’t stop for one today. Was there something you wanted to know? Maybe I know something about it.” She smiled shyly at Dylan. He was sure if it had anything to do with human interest, she would know. Alex had told him often she didn’t know why they bothered to print the About Town section, since everyone knew everything in it before the paper came out anyway. That had been back when they were in school. He didn’t have any reason to think it had changed.
“That’s okay,” he told the volunteer, returning her smile with a weak one of his own. “I’ll pick one up this afternoon.”
Before going out on his assigned patrol route that afternoon, Dylan spoke to his supervisor about his ex-girlfriend being missing. Except, he might have said girlfriend, not ex-girlfriend.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“Well, after Saturday…” Dylan started. His supervisor waved off the rest of the sentence.
“If she doesn’t turn up by morning, just call in. We’ll cover you,” he said.
When his shift was over, Dylan called Paul’s cell phone. The eager greeting told him before he even asked that Paul hadn’t heard anything. As did the defeated, “Oh, it’s you, Dylan.”
“No news, then?”
“Right. Where could she have disappeared to? They’re telling me they can’t do a search for seventy-two hours! She won’t last that long if she’s hurt somewhere, not in this heat. Why won’t they do it sooner?” Paul’s rapid-fire questions revealed his agitation and feeling of helplessness.
Dylan hated to have to explain that, because she was an adult, authorities couldn’t assume she was in danger. Adults did irrational things their families didn’t expect. They went to Vegas with someone they’d met in a bar, or decided on a whim to fly to Timbuktu. Expending public resources on an unnecessary search wasn’t in any law enforcement budget. Dylan understood Paul’s angst, though. He was right about her chances if she were hurt, or lost and disoriented. What didn’t make sense was why there was no trace of her. Could he have missed her in the dark? Was she lying injured on the side of the road, slowly dying of dehydration or her injuries? Could the Highway Patrol have missed her, too?
He needed to get home and beg Ange to stay with Mom late again and then go looking again before it got dark. Alex had to be somewhere.
Dylan took the time to change his clothes and go to the newspaper office to see Paul before he headed out on the search again. He didn’t know whether to be surprised to find the plant closed, or not. It wasn’t yet five o’clock; but if the paper was out on the stands, Paul could easily have decided to leave early and go home or drive to Casa Grande looking for Alex. If he’d been there at all. The next thing to wonder about, though, was there weren’t any papers in the stands outside the office. Had it been published, or not? What difference did it make? It was just that Dylan was convinced Alex’s disappearance had to do with the Rufio story. Was it in the paper this week, or not?
Not finding any answers there, Dylan called Paul and learned he was at home, and Dylan was welcome to come by. A few minutes later, Dylan was in his living room. Paul offered him a seat, but he told him the plan was to go back and retrace her route, focusing on the Hwy 85 leg on the assumption they could count on the Highway Patrol to still be doing the same on Hwy 8. Paul said yes, he’d called them himself this time and told them she was still missing, and how unlikely it was she’d go somewhere voluntarily without notifying him. He seemed a little disgruntled at the attitude of whoever he’d spoken to, but they did say they’d keep a lookout.
But, Paul had also traced the Gila Bend route twice that day already. There was no sign of her.
“Okay, you haven’t thought of any friends to call and ask, though?”
“Oh, yeah, I called a couple of her classmates who are still in town. They both told me they hadn’t talked to her for months. They’re busy with babies, and she’s busy with school. They don’t have anything in common anymore. I think they’re drifting apart.” The way he said it sounded like a couple falling out of love. Dylan got the sense Alex must have been lonely, though Paul said she hadn’t shared that with him.
“It’s too bad her laptop’s with her, because that might have given us some clues.”
Fatal Exposure Page 16