Super Chick

by Amber R. Polk

  Megan turned her head to look over her shoulder at him. He stood, arms crossed over his chest, his head tilted. “Want to tell me what you’re doing?”

  “I… uh,” she choked out. What could she say? She had to think of something fast. “I was looking for my keys. My friends thought they would play a prank on me last night and threw them this way.”

  Deciding she should probably get up, Megan stood and brushed the wet grass from her hands. Her knees were soaked through. She hoped he didn’t get close enough to smell the reeking cigarette butts in her pocket.

  He looked toward the house and back to her. “Didn’t you drive by here last night?”

  “I… uh huh,” she said. Her hands started to shake when he took a step closer. “Ssssorry to hear about your sister.”

  He nodded, his lips formed into a straight line. “What were you doing last night?”

  “You mean when I came by?” She pointed to the road, trying to buy more time.

  “Yes. When you drove by here.”

  “I was going to look for my keys.”

  “If your keys were thrown out, how exactly did you manage to start your car?” How did he get so close so quickly? A second ago he was at least ten feet away and next thing she knew he was right in front of her.

  Right in front of her.

  Please don’t panic, she pleaded with herself.

  “Spare set?” Even as she said it, she knew it sounded more like a question than a statement. “You know those magnet thingies that go under the car?”

  “Hmm.” Drew stared, his eyes narrowing, making her think he could read her thoughts. “Did you see anything strange going on around here last night?”

  She shook her head, probably too hard. “No, no. I didn’t see a thing.”

  He held out a card for her to take and her hand shook as she took it. His eyes looked over her before speaking. “If you remember anything, let me know. My sister means the world to me.”

  This time, Megan was able to look Drew straight in the eyes without so much as a flinch. She couldn’t begin to imagine how terribly he must be hurting and it was partly her fault. “You’ll get her back.”

  “Yeah, I will,” he said, his words hard with determination. “Even if I have to tear this town apart.”

  Chapter Three

  Back in the safety of her car, Megan let loose a string of curse words. She’d finally managed to speak to Drew, but every last word coming out of her mouth was a lie. On the bright side, the lies came out coherently instead of a stumbling, stuttering mess. Well, mostly.

  Entering Drew’s number in her phone, she let out a sigh of relief that at least she wasn’t handcuffed and on her way to the big house. How many times had she dreamed of putting his number in her phone? She couldn’t count them all. Regardless of the circumstances upon receiving it, she felt, well, almost special.

  I am such a weirdo.

  The cigarette butts stunk to high heaven so Megan dug around the floorboard of her car (no judging) until she found a baggy and tossed them inside. She cracked the window, letting in much needed fresh air. Holding up the bag, she inspected the butts. They were white and had a small, gold turtle logo on them. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find which brand they were. There was a big chance that even knowing the brand wouldn’t help, but it was a lead nonetheless.

  No stone left unturned, she thought as she pulled out of the parking lot.

  Megan stopped at Bud’s convenience store and showed the cigarette butts to Sally. Sally was a nice lady who had worked there since Megan moved to town. From her deep, raspy voice and her harsh cough, Megan figured she knew her smokes well enough. “Do you know what brand these are?”

  Sally took the bag and held it up, not finding it at all strange that Megan had brought them in. “They look like Guards to me. Lights.”

  “Lights?”

  “Uh huh, the filter’s white so that’s usually lights.” She turned around and pulled a pack of Guards from the dispenser. “You want a pack? They’re on sale… buy two, get one free.”

  Megan took in the deep wrinkles covering the older woman’s face—probably caused by years of inhaling the toxic fumes—and smiled. “No, thanks. I’m going to get a few other things, though.”

  Grabbing a bottle of water and a bag of potato chips, Megan went to the counter and asked, “Do a lot of people buy that brand?”

  Sally scanned the items and took her money. “I wouldn’t say a lot, but they’re cheap and just ‘bout everyone in town is broke, so… ”

  “Thanks, Sally,” Megan said, walking out the door.

  Once in the car, she leaned back and assessed the new information. She was looking for a man who had a dark blue or black Oldsmobile and smoked cheap cigarettes. Opening the bag of chips, she popped one in her mouth and took a long drink of water.

  It was time to get a move on.

  Driving past Laura’s empty house, Megan made the same right turn the kidnappers had made. It was a residential street and every house had a garage. I won’t have to get out of the car to do any detective work, she thought, pleased. Slowing the car, she looked through the houses, trying not to intrude on the owners’ privacy, but still getting a full view of what was going on inside. Some of it she wished she hadn’t seen. Thankfully, it was early on a Saturday morning and almost everyone was still in bed.

  After three hours of driving side-streets, back roads, and alleyways, Megan came out with absolutely nothing useful to find Laura. However, she did come out with thoughts of gifting the entire town with bathrobes for Christmas. Her stomach growled and her legs needed to be stretched, so she opted for getting lunch at the local café and figuring out what to do next.

  The café was nearly empty, but she still picked a booth away from prying eyes so she could look through her notes. Rubbing her aching back, she felt a headache coming on while trying to decipher the clues in front of her. It just didn’t make sense.

  “Yeah, Megan, what are you having today?” Julie Kenner asked, holding a small notepad in her hand. She was a pretty woman-petite with bobbed, blonde hair framing a round face. She was probably in her early forties and she wore it well. Megan could only hope she looked as good as Julie when she reached her age.

  “I think I’ll have the chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes and white gravy.” She smiled and handed Julie the menu.

  “Do you still have that dark green shirt with the black stripes down the front? Johnny’s gonna take me out on the town tonight and I want something new to wear. I think he’s gonna surprise me with tickets to the Blake Shelton/Miranda Lambert concert up in Tulsa.”

  “I believe so. If you want, I can call Brandy and have her set your size back?” There was nothing Megan loved more than a sale and making someone happy at the same time. “Add a pair of black high heels and it’ll look great.”

  Julie blushed and held the menu tight against her chest. “Johnny tells me he don’t care what I wear ‘cause he loves me, but even after fifteen years of marriage, I still like to get all gussied up for him.”

  “He’s a lucky man.” Megan felt a ping of longing in her chest. Love. Something she was destined to live without.

  “Yeah, I tell him that all the time, too!” They laughed. “If it’s not too much trouble to call the shop, I’d really appreciate it.”

  “No, it’s no trouble at all.” When Julie left to place her order, Megan called Brandy and asked her to put the shirt back.

  “What happened to you last night? You flew out of there like a bat outta hell,” Brandy said after she took the order.

  “You know me. It was just all too much being in there,” she half-lied.

  “Okay, but the bartender and the guy you ran from both gave me their number to give you.”

  She felt flustered, yet flattered. “Sure, thanks.”

  Megan hung up the phone before Brandy had her promising to call both of them by the end of the night. She was halfway through her meal when she noticed what looked to be
the same blue car the men who took Laura were driving parked across the street. A thick man with a bald head got out of the car and went into the pharmacy. He had to be the passenger from the night before. She was sure of it.

  Stuffing the notes into her bag, Megan threw a twenty dollar bill on the table and hurried out of the café. She planned on following the car to find out where it would lead, but as she finally made it outside, the man was already in the car and starting it to leave. Her car was a block away and by the time she would reach it and get back, she would lose him.

  Instead, she did the only thing she could.

  Act like an idiot in the middle of the street in Hope.

  “Hey… hey you!” she yelled, but internally she was rethinking the entire situation. His window was halfway down and he turned and looked directly at her as he backed into the street. “Stop! I know what you did.”

  Maybe he recognized her, or maybe it was just his guilty conscience, because he floored the gas pedal, making the tires squeal and white smoke rise from behind the tires. Not knowing what to do, and not wanting him to get away, Megan stood in the middle of the road. Her heart skipped frantically as she held her hands straight out in front of her, yelling for him to stop.

  What am I doing? Megan thought. Make a citizen’s arrest or something?

  People gathered on the sidewalk, gawking at the exchange, but in the heat of the moment, she didn’t care. Laura’s safety was at risk and this jerk could bring her back.

  He sat in the middle of the street, and for a split second she thought, He’s going to surrender. Wrong again. He floored it and headed straight for her this time. Letting out a scream, Megan took a dive, barely making it out of the way before he ran her down. Yelling out some colorful curse words as he sped away only made her feel marginally better. An older couple ran to her and helped her back to her feet and to the safety of the sidewalk. Her jeans were ripped, her knees bleeding. If the palms of her hands weren’t stinging from sliding across the pavement she would have wiped them.

  “The world’s gone to hell in a hand basket, I tell you! What in the world were you thinkin’, running out in front of that car like that?” Megan glanced up at Louise Greene from her perch on the cold curb. Mrs. Greene was shaking her headful of bright red hair. She reminded Megan of a cartoon animation with her eyebrows penciled in dramatically high and her blush at least three shades too bright. The orange lipstick on her lips didn’t exactly compliment her hair, either.

  Louise was born and raised in Hope and married her high school sweetheart, George. They were both retired but still owned a lumberyard on the outside of town which their grown sons ran. “Don’t you worry. George called the cops and they’ll be here in a second.”

  As gingerly as she could, Megan pulled herself up to stand. “No, don’t call them. I’m fine, really.”

  George came to stand beside his wife. “They’ll be here in just a minute.”

  Defeated, Megan sighed and plopped back down. She looked around to find people standing outside every business on Main Street. The last excitement Hope had was two months before when Ricky Turner got caught with a very married Tammy Davis by the water tower. Guess, I gave them something else to talk about, she thought.

  “Just great,” she whispered in despair. Drew Calloway pulled up in front of her and slowly got out of the car, rolling his extremely fit shoulders as he walked up to her.

  “Megan, didn’t think I’d see you again today,” he said, pacing in front of her like a lion about to pounce on its prey. “Okay, everyone, go on about your business.”

  With a few moans, they all dispersed, leaving her alone with him. Sitting down beside her, he handed her a paper and pen and told her to start writing what happened. When he put his hands on her leg to look at her knee, she thought she was going to roll over and die. “You need to have this looked at. Are you okay?”

  “I… uh, I… yes?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “When I heard over the radio that you almost got run over while trying to stop someone in the middle of the street, I had to come see for myself.” He went back to his car and brought back a first-aid kit and started cleaning the wounds on her knees. “Now, tell me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me there’s something going on you’re not telling me about.”

  He’s touching me. Touching me! Megan thought. She wanted to jump on top of him right then and there and have her wicked way with him, but that would give the town more to talk about. Even if the town was deserted she would ever have the nerve to do it. “No.”

  His hands stilled. “I find it to be quite a coincidence that I heard a tape of someone calling in my sister’s kidnapping last night and it sounded an awful lot like you. Then, this morning, I find you crawling around in her yard, and now, you just about got yourself run over.”

  “Uh, huh.” Megan stared at his hands on her knee. His touch was so warm and soft. Just when she was starting to feel at ease, he moved his hands and ran his fingers through his hair in clear exasperation.

  “I swear, talking to you can be like pulling teeth.” Drew stood and paced, gracing her with a fantastic view of his perfectly sculpted ass wrapped in jeans. Megan’s mouth went as dry as the desert in a sandstorm. He stopped and pointed a finger down at her, making her feel two inches tall. “Megan, if I find out you had something to do with my sister’s disappearance, I swear, I’ll dig your grave myself.”

  Jumping up like someone slapped her, she threw a hand over her heart. Why would he think she had anything to do with it if he already pegged her as the caller who turned it in? “I swear, I had nothing to do with it. Nothing!”

  “Okay, then tell me what it is you’re hiding.” Drew looked Megan straight in the eyes, making her feel like a slug for lying. He had the sexiest brown eyes she had ever seen, even if they were bloodshot from lack of sleep. In her personal opinion, there wasn’t anything about Drew that wasn’t sexy. Right down to the jagged, little scar above his left eyebrow. Was it wrong that she wanted to put his head on her chest and ask him how he got his boo boo?

  “I’m not hiding anything.” She needed to get the hell out of there before she slipped and said something she shouldn’t. “Can I go now?”

  His jaw clinched and he moved until he was inches from her. She stood frozen in place, not knowing what he was going to do. He moved his head toward hers and for a millisecond, she thought, He’s going to kiss me.

  Wrong again.

  “If you’re in some kind of trouble, I can help you,” he whispered in her ear, causing her body to cover in chills and her nipples to harden instantly.

  “Can I go?” she squeaked out.

  “Go,” he said with a wave of his hand.

  With Drew’s permission, Megan moved down the sidewalk, trying to keep her feet from taking over and running. She jumped in the car and went to Dazzled. When she walked into the shop, the customers turned to stare at her and her horrible state of disarray. She must have looked like a crazy person, walking in with her clothes ripped, huffing and puffing. Ignoring them, she grabbed a new pair of jeans and a shirt on her way to the bathroom to repair the damage.

  Her reflection was exactly what she expected it to be… awful! Her hair was falling out of the ponytail and there was a small scratch on her right cheek where she’d hit the pavement. Cautiously taking off her clothes, she paid special attention not to hit the cuts on her knees. Thoughts of Drew doctoring her came to mind. His touch, however brief it was, had been incredibly gentle for a man his size.

  After slipping on the new clothes, she tossed the torn ones in the trash. Those were a pair of her favorite jeans, too. The bastard has to pay. She spent a lot of money for those.

  Megan had planned to check in on Brandy, but decided she wasn’t in the mood for questions or her chipper attitude, so she took the back exit and walked around the block to her car. It was time she went home and regrouped. She wanted to do more, but she was at a standstill. There wasn’t anything else she could do.

&n
bsp; When she got home, she threw herself on the couch and fell asleep within minutes of her head hitting the cushion. By the time she woke, it was already dark out and the house was pitch black. Sitting up, Megan stretched her limbs in an attempt to relieve the ache which had settled over her body. She walked through the dark until she reached the kitchen and turned on the light above the sink.

  A big glass of milk and chocolate chip cookies sounded really good to her at that moment. Who was she kidding? A glass of milk and cookies always sounded good.

  Megan was, and would always be, a junk food junkie. No matter how many times she tried, she couldn’t stop herself. She devoured anything which had to be removed from a noisy package to eat. In her avid testing, the more noisy the package, the better the reward. Snagging a package of chocolate chip cookies and a tall glass of milk for dipping, she went back to the living room.

  Relaxing on the couch, she turned on the television and searched until she found The Weather Channel. If the weatherman was correct, the cool air would be hanging around for a while, which she thought was a good thing. She had far more awesome autumn and winter outfits than summer ones.

  A rustling outside the window caught Megan’s attention and she stayed utterly still as she peered through the wall, her eyes finding the man who almost ran her over earlier. Her body was frozen in place, her pulse banging in her ears so loudly, she couldn’t hear anything else. He couldn’t know she saw him or he was going to just break down the door and come get her. Pretending to watch TV, she kept an eye on him. Taking a small sip of her milk, she picked up her purse from the floor beside the couch and acted like she was looking for something inside. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see him watching her, and thankfully, he seemed to be content where he was at the moment.

  What was he waiting for?

  What if his partner was somewhere else trying to find a different way in? The thought spurred something inside her.