The Escape

by Alice Ward

  All day, I’d kept the kids off their iPads and phones, made sure the television was on anything but the news. The media frenzy had been fierce when it was discovered that the great Jet Ford had been arrested, but I’d hoped the media attention would stay on the West Coast.

  I’d been wrong.

  It had been fine when we first got there. Kenzie loved the slides and Kylian wanted to toss a baseball. And that’s what we did, at first. Then Kyl started asking about the trial and wanted to know if he’d have to testify. I promised we’d find answers to all those questions the next day. I already had an appointment with my attorney to go over every detail.

  Then the rats had descended, sticking cameras and microphones in our faces, asking questions like, “How does it feel to know Jet Ford allegedly molested your son?” And even though he was a juvenile, they peppered questions at Kylian too, asking him to “share his brave story.”

  I’d been enraged, and it hadn’t taken much to light the fire of hatred and horror that had been building inside of me, and when they wouldn’t back off, I gladly busted my knuckles again on the cameras.

  Then the scream.

  “Stop!”

  Even through the chaos of what was happening in front of me, I heard that one word as if it had been shouted directly in my ear. I saw the beautiful young woman I’d noticed earlier begin to run… and somehow, I knew.

  Kenzie.

  As if the nightmare that had become my life had flipped pages and started a new chapter, I turned and watched the woman chase after a man, a dog, and my daughter.

  Pulling Kylian with me, I began to run too, not even stopping when the man dropped Kenzie and ran away. He disappeared in only seconds. God, they’d been so close to the trees. If it hadn’t been for the woman, my daughter would have disappeared while I’d been fighting with the paparazzi.

  Then she was in my arms. No, they were in my arms. Kenzie crying into my shirt. Kylian there too. The I Luv Paris girl trembling against my side. The dog whining and whimpering in the middle of it all.

  When I could breathe again, I met the woman’s gaze over my daughter’s head and looked into the most beautiful indigo eyes I’d ever seen. “Thank you,” I told her. The two words were so inadequate, and I searched for more to convey the depth of my gratitude.

  But before I could say more, the cameras were back, and a look of horror crossed over my daughter’s savior’s expression. She covered her face, ignoring the many questions being peppered her way. I reached for her, wanting to pull her against me so she’d have something else to shield her face against the onslaught.

  Without warning, she burst through the crowd of reporters circling us and began running toward the bench where I first saw her.

  Then, even as I yelled for her to stop, begged her to come back, she wobbled to a lurching halt, her hands dropping limply at her sides. When she fell to her knees, her face buried in her hands, I didn’t know why.

  I only knew one thing. I had to go to her.

  Lifting my daughter and pulling Kylian close to my side, I staggered to where she’d fallen, her shoulders heaving as she was wracked with sobs.

  We huddled together, keeping our heads down until the park police came and pushed the reporters away. When I looked up again, I wasn’t sure who looked more traumatized, her or me.

  “My bag is gone,” she whispered, meeting my eyes.

  I looked down at her waist, where a small purse rested, attached to a long strap around her neck. “It’s right there.”

  She didn’t even look down. “Not that one.” She looked back at the bench, and when I looked too, all that was there was some foil and a plastic bottle.

  She’d been eating, I remembered. I’d watched her hide her smile behind that very piece of foil, but there had been no hiding those beautiful eyes when Kylian’s toss hit me directly in the chest.

  I waved an officer over. “I live in The Dakota,” I told him. “Can we do the interviews there? Get the kids away from this circus?”

  The officer looked across the street and nodded, jotting down my apartment number when I gave it to him.

  I hefted Kenzie back onto my hip as I stood. Kylian stood next to me, his head down, the overlong hair covering much of his face.

  I held my hand out to the woman. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Her impossibly large eyes grew larger behind the frames of her glasses, and she backed away. “I’m sorry. I must go.”

  To my surprise, panic seized me. She flinched when I stepped toward her, my hand still extended. “Please. At least let me replace the things you lost while saving my daughter.” She kept shaking her head, stepping away from me. I thought she was going to turn and bolt. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let her get away. I didn’t even know her name.

  I had to know her name.

  “Miss, we need you to stay for questioning,” an officer said, and her tear-filled eyes widened, making room for one of the tears to escape. “And did I hear something about a bag being stolen? You’ll want to file a report on that too.”

  I didn’t know what she was afraid of, but she was scared and needed help. I took another step, approaching her like I would a frightened animal. “Please.”

  Another tear spilled over and the tip of her nose turned pink. She looked down at my hand. In my arms, Kenzie said, “Don’t worry, little one, it’s okay now.”

  More tears fell, but to my enormous joy, the beautiful brunette laughed. It was soft, and it didn’t last long, but it was something. With a nod that looked like a queen addressing her minions, she stepped toward me, and very slowly, pressed her palm against mine.

  “Folks, let’s get you all out of here. I’m told additional press vans are arriving to the scene.”

  I wasn’t sure who looked more stricken at the news, her or Kylian. My son looked around, then planted his face in my arm.

  As if she knew exactly what was needed, the stranger unwrapped a hoodie from around her waist and carefully placed it over my son’s head before circling her arm around his shoulders, pulling him further into our ragtag little group.

  I nodded to the officer. “We’re ready.”

  We were escorted by several officers, and when my doorman saw us, he was quick with the gate and we swept through the main entrance. As I always did, I couldn’t stop from thinking of John Lennon, who’d lost his life in that very doorway long ago.

  Behind us, a dog barked, and Kenzie whipped around so quickly she nearly fell from my arms. “Puppy!” She started kicking, then thrust her hands straight up into the air, becoming a wet noodle that was nearly impossible to hold on to, and slid through my arms. The second her feet touched the ground, she ran to the white animal and wrapped its leash around her hand.

  “Can I keep him? Can I? Can I? Please!!!”

  I stared at my resilient child who’d been crying just minutes earlier, then at the little white dog. Then I looked at the woman next to me.

  Her deep blue eyes didn’t give an answer.

  The police officer spoke up. “We’ll need to take the dog and get him…” he squatted and picked the smelly mutt up and turned it around to look at its bottom, “her scanned for a chip. If she’s been chipped, it could help us locate the owner, and hopefully, that owner will be the man who tried to kidnap your daughter.”

  Kenzie’s face fell. “Does that mean I can’t keep her?”

  The police officer looked at me and lowered his voice. “After the scan, you can foster the dog if you want. The humane society will attempt to locate the owner if it turns out to not be our man.” He shrugged. “If they can’t find the owner, I don’t see why you can’t adopt her.” His voice lowered more. “Unless you don’t want the reminder of what happened back there.”

  I stared closer at the dog. It was dirty and probably had fleas. It smelled like wet dog, even on this dry day, and up close, its white fur was more yellow than anything. And it was also shaking, burrowing against my daughter, its pointy ears sagging i
n fear.

  The animal was a victim too. None of what just happened had been its fault.

  I squatted down and stroked the dog’s head. It cowered for only a moment before it closed its eyes as I scratched behind its pointy ears.

  Looking at my daughter, I already knew my answer. “The police need to take the doggy away for a little while, but if they can’t find her owners, then you can keep her.”

  I expected her to squeal and leap into my arms or do the happy dance butt wiggle she was known to do. Instead, tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks as she smiled. “That’s a good answer.”

  The officer’s radio chirped, and he put the dog back down. “Animal control is here.” He pulled gloves from his pocket, along with a clear ziplock, looking back. “Is your daughter the only person here who touched the leash or collar?”

  I shook my head. “No, I didn’t touch it.” Beside me, Kylian and the woman shook their heads too.

  Bending down, the officer took off the leash and collar and rolled it into the bag. “We’ll need to get your fingerprints,” he said, smiling at my little girl.

  Her eyes grew big. “You do?”

  “Yep.”

  I was going to ask if they couldn’t just guess which fingerprints were hers based on size, but a smile crossed Kenzie’s face. “That’s awesome.”

  The officer stood and nodded at me. “I’ll take care of this then meet you in your apartment.”

  I made a mental reminder to donate more heavily to the police fund this year. These men and women had been more than helpful. They’d been kind.

  “All right, sweetheart,” the officer said. “I’m going to take her now, but someone will bring her back later.”

  Kenzie squeezed the dog and repeated what she said earlier, “Don’t worry, little one, it’s okay now.” She looked up at the woman next to me and grinned. “I don’t member the other way you said it.

  “Ne t’inquiète pas, petit, c’est bon maintenant.” The accent was flawless, beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the woman who had spoken it so softly.

  I cleared my throat and looked away from her. “Shall we go upstairs?”

  Kylian ran ahead to the elevator and pushed the button for up. As we waited, I noticed the woman staring up at the ceiling, and I looked up too. The historic landmark of The Dakota was certainly impressive.

  “Is this your palace?” she asked, brows furrowed as she examined the elaborate finials.

  Kenzie giggled, and it was a beautiful sound to hear. “She thinks this is a palace, Daddy.” She grinned bigger. “Does that make me a princess?”

  The woman blushed and looked away.

  “You’re always my princess,” I said, tickling her belly just as the elevator dinged its arrival.

  Within moments, we were on my floor, and I was ushering them all into the entry of the seven-thousand-square-foot apartment with suitcases and boxes still stacked by the door. I didn’t keep live-in staff, only had a housekeeper come in two mornings a week to do simple cleaning chores.

  “Sorry for the mess,” I said to the blue-eyed beauty. “We arrived from California just before heading to the park.”

  She smiled. “Your home is very beautiful. I’m sure you were happy to be back.”

  I just stared at her. When she smiled, her entire face seemed to glow from some inner radiance. Her skin appeared translucent, as though light penetrated the surface, brightening her face from within.

  She frowned and looked away, and I realized I’d been staring too long. “Please, come in and be comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Water, please.”

  She stood so straight, almost regally as she made the request, and for a moment, I felt as if I’d seen her before. “Do I know you?”

  Her eyes widened, and her entire body shifted. Loosened. With the change, the illusion of familiarity was gone. “I don’t think so. I’ve only been in the city an hour or so myself.”

  I stuck out my hand. “Forgive me. We haven’t even been properly introduced yet. I’m Xander Armstrong, and these are my children, Kylian and Kenzie.”

  She stared at my hand, then swallowed and placed her palm against mine. It was warm, damp, but also incredibly electric. Her breathing changed as I closed my fingers over hers. She felt it too.

  “Mada…” she cleared her throat and pulled her hand away, “Maddie Durand.”

  I felt the loss of her immediately. And I was damn staring again.

  “Kids, why don’t you grab your suitcases and start to unpack while I get, um, Maddie something to drink and wait for the police.”

  For some reason, Maddie didn’t fit the woman. It was too casual in a way I didn’t understand.

  They both grumbled but did as they were told. I watched Kylian closely, still worried about him. After all he’d been through, I’d wanted New York to be like an escape for him, a safe place where he didn’t have to think about his stepfather.

  Instead, what was supposed to be a safe haven had quickly turned into hell.

  I’d just poured Maddie a glass of cold water from the fridge when a knock sounded on the door. It was the same police officer from before, along with two plain clothes detectives at his side. A sketch artist arrived moments later.

  The introductions were made, and soon, the questioning began.

  While Maddie described the man who tried to take Kenzie to the sketch artist, I told them everything, walking them step by step through my day, starting at when we stepped off my plane.

  Then it was Maddie’s turn. As they questioned her, her fingers grew white as she held tightly to the glass of water I’d refilled. In fact, she held it so tightly, I worried the glass might shatter, cutting her hands to shreds.

  It was a contradiction. Because as stiff as her fingers were, her face was carefully neutral as she sat very still and answered each question.

  She’d just arrived from JFK after spending two years in Paris.

  She’d come to Central Park first because it was a place she remembered fondly.

  She told the detectives of seeing me and the kids arrive as she’d taken a break from walking and ate. She told them of seeing Kenzie run to the slides while I tossed the baseball with Kylian. She explained how the reporters had turned up suddenly, at very nearly the same time the man and dog had appeared. She shared how, when she understood that the little girl was being taken, she felt like she had to do something. “Without thinking, I just screamed and began to run after them.”

  The female detective nodded. “That was very brave of you. I’m sure Mr. Armstrong is very grateful for your courage.”

  Her eyes met mine, and I nodded. “Yes, very grateful.”

  One side of her mouth slid up and her hands lightened their grip on the glass. She licked her lips, and the entire world stopped turning as I watched the pink tip disappear back into her mouth.

  “Is this address still correct?” Detective Reeves asked, tapping Maddie’s driver’s license with the tip of her pencil. We’d both been required to provide identification before the questioning began.

  Maddie’s head snapped in her direction. “I… I’m sorry. No. As I said, I’ve been away for some time. I’ve not yet secured accommodations at this point.”

  Detective Reeves frowned. “What about employment?”

  Maddie swallowed. “I’ve yet to secure that either.”

  Reeves dropped the pencil onto her notepad and leaned forward. “Are you telling me that you flew from France to New York with no idea of where you will be staying and with no job?”

  Seconds ticked by on the grandfather clock standing in the corner. Maddie sat still as a stone, then gave the detective an embarrassed smile. “Yes, that’s true. The semester was over, and I decided I wanted to come home.” She lifted a shoulder. “I thought I’d stay in a hotel until I secured something that suited me.”

  Reeves stared at the girl for so long and so hard, I nearly jumped between them and told her to back off. But she loo
ked back down at her notepad and picked her pencil back up. “What type of work are you looking for? What did you get your degree in?”

  Her fingers tightened on the glass again. “My major was in language studies with a minor in political science.”

  Reeves didn’t blink. “And what job are you hoping for?”

  Maddie smiled, and it was the exact same expression she’d given before. If she hadn’t looked so young and innocent, I would have thought it was practiced. “Becoming an interpreter was the purpose of choosing that major.”

  I jumped in. “I’m sorry. Why exactly is her major important? This woman saved my daughter from being kidnapped. I think we should be honoring her, not interrogating her.”

  Detective Reeves didn’t even flinch. Didn’t take her eyes away from Maddie. But she did sit back. “Yes.” Her eyes slid to mine. “I’m just concerned about a young woman being in New York all alone.”

  But there was more to it than that, I knew. What? I wasn’t sure.

  “That’s kind of you, but with Miss Durand’s permission, I hope to repay her for her kindness and courage. I’ll make sure she’s well compensated and protected.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Maddie look my way, but I didn’t drop Reeves’s gaze.

  Finally, the detective nodded. “Very good. I would appreciate if you gave us her address when it’s known so we can follow up with her if needed.”

  “Needed how?” Maddie asked, leaning forward.

  The other detective, Mike Watson, took over. “Well, if we catch this guy, we’ll need for you to identify him. Or we’ll need to know how to return your stolen possessions if we find them. Stuff like that.”

  Slowly, Maddie nodded.

  “Detective,” I said, bringing the attention back to me. “One thing I’m curious about. Do you know how the reporters learned that I was in the park?”

  Mike Watson nodded. “Turned out to be some freak coincidence. They were apparently after photos of another guy, the son of some big country music star. Anyway, they said they heard he was running or jogging in the park and tried to find him, get pictures. You know the drill. It was by chance that they happened to see you first, and since the news of your son’s…” He broke off and stroked his fingers over a well-maintained mustache. “Well, since all that was all over the news, they jumped on the opportunity to attack you.”