by Ellie Danes
"Did you forget you totally froze?" I asked Bree.
She shot me a look. "All I'm saying is that I'm better at actually smiling at people. You spent most of your time at the park looking like you were going to punch a tree or something."
"Fine. What's your cover story?" I asked.
Bree blinked. "Cover story?"
"Yes. You can't just walk in there and tell them the truth," I pointed out.
She ran both hands through her hair. "All right, fine. I'll tell them that I'm interested in sending my daughter there."
I followed the next sign and pulled into a parallel parking spot on the avenue leading up to the charter school. "So, you'll go on a tour. How's that going to help us figure out if Maggie is there?"
"Nathan, what are we going to do if Maggie is there?" Bree asked. "We don't know anything about her or how you got the photograph."
I strangled the steering wheel while I thought. "I'll have to go in, too. Maybe you can distract the front office secretary, and I can try to find a yearbook or a directory or something. We need to know more than Maggie's first name."
Bree nodded. "Okay. Who goes first?"
We decided that Bree should go first and start distracting the secretary with questions about a tour. I gave her a head start up the school's driveway, waited a minute, and then followed her.
Bree was stuck on the front steps of Norman Academy having a panic attack.
"Just distract them," I hissed as I opened the door for her. Then I raised my voice to a normal level and asked Bree, "Are you feeling well, miss?"
She stumbled in the door, shaking her head. "Maybe I just need to sit down."
The secretary popped out from behind her desk and ushered Bree to a seat near the windows. The entryway was more like the formal foyer of a mansion than the lobby of a school. High windows arched over Bree's chair and a crystal chandelier twinkled above her head. The polished parquet floor was covered by a thick Berber rug. The secretary knelt on it as she worried over Bree.
"Are you okay, miss?" she asked.
"I'll be fine. This nice man can go first. I just need a minute," Bree said breathlessly.
The secretary stood up and marched back to her desk before giving me a suspicious look. "How can I help you, sir?"
"Nice place you've got here." I tried a conversational tone but the secretary's shoulders went rigid. "I'm wondering if you have a lost and found. I've got a backpack that I think belongs to one of your students."
The school secretary gave a pointed look at my empty hands. "If you don't have a student here, sir, I am going to have to ask you to leave."
I held up both hands. "I'm just trying to do the right thing and return a missing backpack. I think the student's name is Maggie."
The secretary popped out from behind her desk and tried to shoo me toward the front doors. "You need to leave, sir. Now."
"What about Maggie?" I asked. "I bet she's missing her stuff."
"Leave now, sir, or I'll be forced to call security." The secretary reached out one delicate hand and hovered it over her desk phone.
"Security? I thought this was a regional charter school. Did something happen?" I asked.
"If you don't have a student at this school, you need to leave right now. I've been instructed to call security and the police if necessary," the secretary said.
Bree let out a little moan.
"You okay, miss?" I asked Bree.
She looked dead pale as she struggled to her feet. "I was going to ask about a tour but I should have called first."
The secretary rushed over. "No, miss, I'm sorry. I didn't mean you. I'd love to give you some of our brochures and maybe schedule a time for a tour."
"But I have to leave?" I asked.
Both women shot me looks for different reasons. The secretary had clearly pegged me as someone to worry about, while Bree was trying to send the message for me to keep my mouth closed.
I held up both hands again and backed toward the front desk. "Fine, fine. I'll just be going."
The secretary wheeled around and pointed toward the door. "Thank you for cooperating, sir."
Behind the secretary's back, Bree winked at me and then let out a worried squeak. She swayed and caught at the secretary's wrist. I rushed forward as Bree collapsed onto the Berber rug but the secretary waved me back.
"Oh, miss! Are you okay? She fainted! Call security!" The secretary knelt next to Bree.
A teacher appeared out of the first doorway, dropped a thick textbook, and rushed over to help. "Her eyes are fluttering. Is she having a seizure?"
I sprang out of the way as a heavy-set man in a navy-blue uniform shoved past me. "Here's security," I called.
The trio around Bree ignored me completely. I paused as her legs and arms began a very believable shaking. Bree writhed around on the floor, her grip hard on the secretary's wrist, and I was torn. Either Bree was a very good actress or she was really sick.
Her eyes flashed wildly at me as the teacher caught her head and tried to calm her down.
I took my chance and slipped around the secretary's desk. A small door was open behind it, and I dodged inside before shutting it quietly behind me. I could still hear the trio arguing about the best way to help a seizure but I knew I didn't have very long.
The top shelf of the little office was lined with yearbooks but I didn't have time to flip through the pages. Luckily, there was a computer on the counter and it buzzed to life when I tapped the keyboard. It didn't take long for me to find the directory window.
"Thank god," I muttered when the password screen was already filled in.
I punched 'go' and the search screen appeared. There were a dozen boxes to fill in but I only knew the student's first name. If she actually was a student there.
I heard more worried voices join the trio in the front lobby. I skipped guessing Maggie's age and hit send.
Nothing happened. Then a red alert appeared. No results.
I smacked my forehead and frantically deleted her first name. Then I typed in Margaret and hit 'send.'
There were three Margarets, one already graduated, one a senior, and one young enough to be the girl in the picture.
Her name was Maggie Wheeler.
I wanted to write down all her information. It was all there: her birthdate, last known address, everything. Then I heard Bree's weak voice.
"What happened? How long have I been out?" Bree called.
I erased my search and slipped back out of the small office door just in time to see the group of people helping Bree to her feet. She saw me and stumbled, buying me enough time to slip out the front door and down the school driveway.
Maggie Wheeler. I repeated the name to myself like a mantra while I waited for Bree to get back to our rusted-out car. The little girl's name was Maggie Wheeler.
Bree yanked open the passenger door and jumped in. "Go, quick! I bet those good Samaritans are going to come out any second to check on me."
I swung the car around and sped away from Norman Academy. "What did you tell them?"
Bree smoothed back her tangled hair and smiled. "I told them I had just been prescribed seizure medication but I had left it in my car."
"I gotta say your acting was pretty convincing," I told her.
"Maybe too good. They all but carried me out the door and I practically had to start crying, telling them how embarrassed I was, before they left me alone."
We drove another mile or two while Bree untangled her hair with her fingers. Finally satisfied that she was back to normal, Bree turned to me and gave me a pointed look.
"What?" I asked her finally.
Bree smacked my arm. "Well? What did you find out?"
She was angry, thinking that I was trying to keep information from her again. "Sorry. I was so distracted by your acting."
"Please tell me you found something out. I don't want to know that I rolled around on the floor and embarrassed myself for nothing."
I patted her knee. "I
was impressed. That's not for nothing, right?"
Bree swatted my hand away. "Nathan, you promised you wouldn't keep anything from me anymore."
"Her name is Maggie Wheeler," I said. "That's all I got."
Bree turned to look out the car window but not before I saw her disappointed expression. She took a deep breath and sighed. "Well, at least we got another clue."
"One piece of the puzzle at a time," I said.
Bree took another few minutes before she squared her shoulders and decided to be optimistic again. "We know her last name. Good. Now, how about that picnic?"
Chapter Twenty-Six
Bree
Nathan had made me abandon my phone after those armed men had kidnapped me. It seemed paranoid, but the more I thought about how organized, and, well, professional those men had seemed, it made sense. Once they had me, they found out my full name. That meant they could trace my phone.
"At least we have her last name," I said again.
Nathan gritted his teeth and drove down another block. "Fat lot of good it's going to do us if we can't get on the Internet and search for her address."
"And to think there used to be phonebooks just hanging around." I tried to lighten the mood but Nathan was too focused.
"Maggie Wheeler," he muttered again.
"There!" I pointed to a neon-bright chain restaurant. "They have tablets at every table."
"Why?" Nathan asked as we cruised by.
"You can order food online, play games, put a song on the jukebox, check your email. You know, stuff normal people can do with their phones."
Nathan whipped the car around in a tight U-turn. "Sounds like hell."
"At least they have a salad bar. I haven't seen a green vegetable in days," I said.
Nathan didn't even crack a smile. He then proceeded to scare the cheer right out of the waitress who seated us. His focused face and clenched jaw had a dangerous look that kept me on edge, too.
He grabbed our booth's tablet, annoyed when he realized it was anchored to the table, and started to search for Wheelers immediately.
"I'll do the salad bar," I told our waitress. She put down our waters with a shaky hand as she looked at Nathan. He ignored her, so I said, "He will, too. And a basket of fries for the table."
The waitress scuttled away, and I studied Nathan. The problem was his obvious angst made him even more attractive. Nice girls weren't supposed to find that sexy.
I got up and joined him on his side of the booth, leaning close to see what he was doing on the tablet screen. "Any luck?"
"Thousands of hits. I have to narrow it down."
"Well, we know she went to school around here. Try to check local listings," I said.
Luckily, Springer, New Mexico was not the most densely populated area in the United States, and a local search only turned up a few phone numbers and addresses.
Nathan started to scribble the addresses on a napkin. "Can you program the phone numbers into the burner? We'll find somewhere quieter and call later."
He would have left as soon as I typed the last phone number in but our food arrived. Nathan scowled at the poor waitress, then held up his empty plate.
"Salad. For once." I led the way to the salad bar.
"Can't we get this to go?" Nathan heaped indiscriminate spoonfuls of things onto his plate.
"You really think you're going to solve it all right now?" I asked.
Nathan's expression softened. "Sorry. You're right."
It was as if he just now noticed the raucous restaurant we were in. Nathan tipped his head up and scanned the jumbled memorabilia hanging from the ceiling. There were arcade games in the corner, a dance floor shaped like a boxing ring, and a photo-op booth with animatronic dinosaurs.
"It's supposed to be fun," I joked.
Nathan strode back to our table and started to wolf down his pile of salad. "You've been to places like this before?"
I laughed. "A long time ago. With my sister…"
He noticed the way my sentence trailed off. "Isn't there a way you can check your voicemail even when you don't have your phone anymore?" he asked.
"She won't call," I said.
The waitress arrived with a variety of ketchups and almost dropped the entire tray when Nathan smiled at her. I knew that jittery feeling he could send straight to my core. Maybe that was why I had agreed to give him a ride in the first place. It shook up the heavy loneliness that had been settling inside me.
By the end of our quick meal, the waitress was flirting with Nathan and shooting me jealous looks. She brought our bill right away.
"Any suggestions for a good motel around here?" Nathan asked.
The waitress glanced at me and stiffened. "The Sunrise is okay."
I grabbed the check and held it up, laughing. "She left you her number!"
"Then I guess that means I should pay." Nathan grabbed the check from me and pulled out a wad of cash.
He double-checked that we had the phone numbers and addresses, then waved to the waitress as we left. If only she knew we were only heading to the motel to make phone calls.
When he pulled into the parking lot of the Sunrise Motel, I was hit by a dizzying wave. It looked exactly like the motel where the men in dark suits had held me hostage. My breath wouldn't come back, and the edges of my vision went gray.
"Bree? Bree, are you all right?" Nathan slammed the car into park and grabbed my arm.
"Yeah, yeah," I said. "Just deja-vu. All these motels are starting to look alike."
He got out and ran around the car to help me out of the passenger side. "You know, you could stay here, if you want. I'll track down Maggie's family and see what I can piece together."
I yanked my arm away from him. "We're in this together, remember? I'm not going to rot in some motel waiting for those men to find me again. I want to help."
"You're tired; you're traumatized. You don't have to be involved anymore." Nathan glanced around before opening the door to the motel lobby. "I think you'd be safe here."
"I'm safer with you." I gave his chin a pinch. "And you need me. How else would you have found the Internet tonight?"
"We have free Wi-Fi and a business center," the motel clerk announced proudly.
Nathan laughed. "I wish I had known that before. Tell me you know a great pizza place that delivers, and you're my new favorite motel. Sorry, salad's just not my thing."
I rolled my eyes and let Nathan chat with the motel clerk. The motel lobby felt like a giant fishbowl with windows on all sides. I tried to peer past my own reflection and into the night. I couldn't stop thinking about those armed men.
Were they still trailing us?
If they had been serious enough to kidnap me without a second thought, there was no way they had given up. I wondered how long it would take them to find the used car lot where we bought our ride for cash. The poor salesman there would get squeezed for information, and why would he hold out? I figured they were only a day or two behind us and working around the clock.
Whatever Nathan had done was not going to be forgotten by them. Too bad he couldn't remember.
"There's a pool and a hot tub. Maybe you want to take some time and relax," Nathan said.
I followed him out of the lobby and to our room on the first floor. Nathan always picked rooms that led right out to the parking lot. In case we had to make a quick run for it.
I rubbed my head, remembering how the black hood over my head had felt like drowning. "Maybe just a hot shower."
I steamed up the small motel bathroom but it did little to cloud my growing fear. The closer we got to Maggie and El Paso, the more certain I was we were driving straight into trouble. I wrapped a thin motel towel around me and rushed out, still dripping, to share my worry with Nathan.
"There's no Maggie there? Sorry, wrong number." Nathan hung up our burner phone and locked his eyes on me. "Feel better?"
"What if the Wheelers are the ones who sent those armed men after you?" I asked.
&
nbsp; Nathan got up and peeked out the motel room window. "Pizza guy's coming."
"I'm serious, Nathan. What if by following these so-called clues, you're heading right back into the trouble that knocked you out in the first place?"
The teenager delivering the pizza gawked at me when Nathan opened the motel room door but I refused to move. Nathan paid him, grabbed the pizza, and slammed the door in his staring face.
"You hungry?" he asked me.
"Nathan, we need to talk about this. What if you're walking right into a trap when you should be getting help instead?"
He slumped into a chair at the small motel table. "We've talked about this. The authorities would hold us. I think Maggie needs us now."
"How many numbers do we have?" I asked.
"Eight."
I yanked on a sweatshirt and a pair of underpants. "I'll call while you eat. Then we'll switch."
Nathan dug into the pizza while I called one phone number after another. Some of the Wheelers had moved, some had never had a Maggie in the family, some had Maggies who were long-gone or passed-on. Most people I got on the line simply told me there was no Maggie there and hung up.
"My turn," Nathan said.
He pried the phone from my hand and shoved me in the direction of the motel bed. I crawled into it but refused to go to sleep. The worry still clawed at my brain, and I knew I couldn't sleep until we had found another clue.
"Hi. Sorry to disturb you so late, but I'm trying to find a Maggie Wheeler," Nathan said.
He quickly fumbled the phone and put it on speaker. I heard a woman's voice asking him to repeat the question.
"Maggie Wheeler?" Nathan asked the faint voice.
"Maggie," the woman said and then there was a long pause.
Nathan drew in a deep breath to try to explain but then the line went dead. "She hung up on me."
I leaned over and snatched up the napkin where Nathan had written the addresses. "She's the second to last number, right? We have her current address."
Nathan jumped up and grabbed the napkin from me. "She has to know something. Maybe she's Maggie's mother?"
I struggled to get out from under the soft covers. "Well, we know she's awake."
Nathan stopped me and tucked me back in. "You're exhausted. Get some rest. We'll go first thing in the morning."