by Ellie Danes
Nathan dropped a light kiss against the back of my neck. His hands grew soft and started to drift up and down my bare belly. "You are very much alive, Bree."
I wriggled my bottom against him. "You going to help me feel alive?"
He groaned as he devoured my neck with kisses. I leaned into his hands and one drifted higher to tease my sensitive breasts.
"Fair warning, Mr. Cramer." I spun around and caught him in a deeper kiss. "I might call out the name Nathan while we're in bed."
"Oh, Bree." His tongue savored my name and turned my blood to molten lava. Then he pulled back. "Bree, there's something I have to tell you."
"Now?" I decided to keep my early deductions to myself. I nuzzled his chest. "Are you sure?"
Nathan let his head drop back as my tongue explored his hard pectorals. Then he gritted his teeth and took another step back. "Yes. I'm sure. I have to tell you now."
I fluffed up my hair and batted my thick eyelashes at him. "Sounds serious. Like a confession."
"It is," Nathan said. "I went to the bar last night. You had already fallen asleep, and I didn't want to wake you. I know you haven't been feeling so great lately."
I tried out a pout and Nathan looked ready to fall to his knees and beg forgiveness. So, I laughed. "I know about the bar. Might want to use mouthwash next time."
"Bree, I'm sorry. I should have told you I was going out. I didn't mean to worry you," he said.
"You didn't worry me. I slept the whole night. And, you're right, I've been feeling… I don't know, kinda hopeless lately." I turned to the mirror, struck a pose, and fluffed my hair again. "Though I think I'm starting to like my new look."
Nathan came back to admire me closer, his body pressed to my back. His hands swept up my bare stomach, skimmed over my lace bra, and brushed my hair up so he could kiss my neck. I reached behind and pulled his hips closer, rubbing against his growing hardness.
Sparks of desire crackled through my blood as Nathan's hands drifted back down to gently cup my breasts. He turned me so our lips could meet then squeezed me tighter against his chest. His tongue teased me in the same rhythm as his thumbs brushed my nipples to attention.
"Not here," I said.
I led Nathan out of the bathroom and across our small motel room to the hard, armless chairs at the table. He sat down, grabbed my waist, and kissed the butterflies in my stomach. Then he peeled off my jeans and hooked his fingers in the waistband of my lacy panties.
"I feel like I'm cheating," Nathan said. "Poor Mrs. Cramer."
"Hi, my name is Bree." I leaned down and gave him a long look at my breasts before I caught his lips in mine.
Nathan pulled me closer and nudged my legs apart. His breath pumped hard against my lips and his kiss became wild and rough. I loved when he lost control and took me but today I wanted the power, I wanted control.
I stepped back and knelt, my fingers unbuttoning his pants. Nathan's hands hovered then reached for the chair seat. He clung to it, his body rock hard, as I slowly dragged his jeans and boxers off. His impressive erection widened my eyes even as it made my mouth water.
I leaned forward and licked upward. Nathan's body rocked with pleasure and I smiled. Then I slowly kissed the engorged tip, letting my tongue taste until Nathan's breath was ragged. One slow, twisting plunge, then I dragged my lips back up his shaft and felt him pulse with barely restrained passion.
Nathan grabbed my arms and lifted me up in one swift move. I straddled his legs and he yanked my panties out of the way before plunging me down onto him. So deep and every inch of him throbbing inside me. My body took over, and I rode wildly. Nathan bucked off the chair as we both came together.
He fell back in the uncomfortable chair with a look of complete bliss, and my heart was so light it floated up. For the first time in weeks, I felt carefree again.
I was even able to think ahead and see the fun and adventure in our life on the road. "I think I'm starting to like the Cramers. They could be fun people. Don't you think?"
"I'll think whatever you think if that can happen again," Nathan said.
I got up and pulled my jeans back on. "You know what would be fun?"
"Doing that again?"
I slapped Nathan's bare knee. "I'm going to go to the motel lobby and get every hokey, crazy roadside attraction brochure they have. The Cramers would stop at every one."
He chuckled. "And we should go to county fairs and rodeos, all the way from here to El Paso."
I stopped and studied him as he pulled his clothes back on. "El Paso?"
Nathan frowned. "Did I say El Paso?"
"You still want to go, don't you?" I felt a chill and pulled on a sweatshirt.
He pulled on his boots. "It's just something the bartender said last night stuck in my head. He was from around there and remembered the cartel grabbing people off the street. Anyone."
"Even kids?" I asked.
"I don't think they care as long as the person does what they want."
I wrapped my arms around me. "And you think that has something to do with Maggie?"
Nathan gave me a pleading look. "All I'm saying is that I don't think I can just leave the Maggie thing the way it is. I have to know what happened and what part I might have played. I mean, we're not really doing anything else, are we?"
"Kind of kills my stupid roadside attraction idea." I sank onto the edge of the motel bed.
Nathan knelt in front of me and took both my hands. "We'll start at the largest jar of jam. I saw the brochure when we checked in."
I let him kiss me and whisper silly little assurances against my lips. Nathan was right and the sense of purpose that came with his plan slowly seeped into my chilled body. It gave shape to this new life, and I realized that was what had been missing.
"We can talk about going to El Paso." I put my hands on Nathan's shoulders and kissed him again. "But first we're going to get pancakes."
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Nathan
"Here ya go, folks. Two short stack platters. Be back in a second with a fresh pot of coffee." The waitress spun away and navigated the crowded diner with a quick step.
"These look great, is this what you had in mind?" I asked Bree.
She jumped at the question and her eyes came back from faraway and focused on the table. "Oh, our pancakes. These look great."
I handed her the tray of syrups. "How is it that something so simple can taste so good?"
Bree drizzled a little syrup on her pancakes, pressed her fork into the stack, and then froze.
The waitress swung over to our table and brandished a fresh pot of coffee. "Who wants some?"
Bree didn't move so I pointed to both our glasses. "Thanks."
Bree didn't move as the older waitress walked away. Then she put her fork back down and said, "She reminds me of Janice. I'm going to give her a call. She must be worried sick."
I caught Bree's hand before she could leave our table but I didn't have to say anything. The realization had already knocked Bree back in her seat.
"I can't call her. I'm dead," Bree whispered.
"Drink a little more coffee, it'll help." I spread out the stack of brochures we'd grabbed from the motel lobby. "And help me decide, is the world's biggest kite worth a ten-mile detour?"
Bree faked a smile and sipped at her coffee. "There's also the bust of Teddy Roosevelt carved completely out of butter. It's a few miles south of here."
I took a huge bite of my pancakes to buy a minute. Bree was in no state to discuss heading to El Paso. She refused to cry but I could see the extra shine of tears in her eyes. I needed to give her time to grieve over her old life.
"She'll recognize me, you know. Even if we don't get back to Topeka for another decade, Janice would still recognize me. She's got a thing about remembering faces," Bree said.
"Honey, I'm sorry," I said.
She faked a smile and picked up her fork with a resolute sigh. "How can you put strawberry syrup on pancakes? That's diner sacr
ilege."
We ate our pancakes and sifted through the stack of roadside attractions. If Bree noticed that I pulled out the ones that were south of us, she didn't say anything.
Then a headline from the TV over Bree's head drifted down to me. I had purposefully sat her where she couldn't see the screen. I didn't want her scouring the news and stressing out. That's why it was me, not her, who asked the passing waitress to turn up the volume.
"What is it?" Bree joined me on my side of the booth.
"Maybe nothing." The news show had just gone to commercial. "I just thought I heard something about Springer, New Mexico."
Bree pulled her plate over and refused to take her eyes off the TV screen. The show came back on and led viewers through an easy new recipe before they got back to the headlines.
"A young girl is still missing in Springer, New Mexico. Authorities are asking anyone to please call in if they have seen this girl."
Bree's fork rattled to the table. "Is that…?"
I glanced up from my pancakes but missed the photograph. The reporter spoke about the scant details of the case and the heavy grief of the family. Then they showed the little girl's photograph again.
"That's Maggie Wheeler," I said.
Bree said something but I couldn't hear over the buzzing in my head. Flashes darted across my vision, followed by dark shadows. Then there were other images, a roadside, the barrel of a gun.
I put my head in my trembling hands. The images darted by so fast, but I tried to focus on each one. Maybe my memory was trying to come back.
"Darling? Are you okay?" Bree was panicked but did not call out my real name. "Just take a few deep breaths."
There was the girl, Maggie, but I couldn't tell if she was real or a photograph. There was the squeal of car tires and a dizzying flash of a dark sky.
Bree wrapped an arm around me and whispered in my ear. "You're all right, Nathan. Everything's fine."
I blinked hard and shook my head. The shadows retreated slowly and then my vision came back. We were in the diner, our pancakes were almost gone, and the news show had moved on to a segment on pet safety tips.
"What happened?" Bree asked. No one else in the diner had noticed anything, but her eyes were wide with concern.
"Nothing. Just flashes. God, I wish my memory would come back." I put my fist down on the table too forcefully.
Bree turned around to the table of young kids behind us. "Hey, can I borrow your cell phone? I just need to look up something quick."
"You don't have a phone?" The two girls at the table giggled.
"It's in the car." Bree turned farther around and pinned all her attention on the boy closest to her. He seemed to melt in front of her smile, and he was nodding before he could answer.
"You can't go get it?" the snotty girl asked.
"Come on, do me a favor?" Bree asked again.
The teenage boy dug into his pocket, fumbled the phone, then caught it and gave it to Bree with an awed smile. "Sure. Here."
"Thanks." Bree pulled up the news channel's website and found the story. She held it up so I could see. "They don't mention her name but it sure sounds like it could be Maggie."
The story told how the young girl went on vacation with her mother down to San Diego, California. There was no mention of the father. It was confirmed by multiple sources that the girl was last seen with her mother at the San Diego Zoo.
"Wait, look at that," I told Bree.
"What?" Bree asked. "Right now, it looks like it could have been any poor girl."
"It says there that the investigation placed the young girl in Tijuana a day later. Whoever took her, took her straight down across the border," I said.
"Why isn't there more information about that?" Bree wondered.
We read on and found that the news channel was asking the same questions. The investigative reporter pointed out that the girl had been missing for over a month, and the strongest lead had yet to be followed up.
"They couldn't send someone down to Tijuana? She's just a little girl, for Christ's sake. Someone had to go looking for her," I said.
"What about the mother?" Bree scrolled through the story again. "It sounds like she was so outspoken at the beginning. Why wasn't she the one on TV pleading for her daughter's return?"
"Why are these reporters the only ones pushing for answers." I leaned over Bree's shoulder as we read through the rest of the news story.
"Seems like local police don't have much to say. They just make vague statements and go on to other things," Bree pointed out.
"You're right. They don't have much to talk about, but in a normal case the police would be holding press conferences and making sure the public knew how hard they were working." I scratched my head and took another gulp of coffee.
Bree frowned. "And the mother has been completely cut off from the press. She hasn't spoken to anyone on her daughter's behalf in weeks."
"Wait, what's that?" I asked. I sloshed my coffee back onto the table and pointed to a small link at the bottom of the news story.
Bree tapped it and a video slowly loaded. She turned to give the teenage boy a flirty smile. "Sorry, we're almost done."
"No problem," he said with a goofy smile.
The video turned out to be an older news segment, recorded shortly after the little girl went missing. We played it with the sound down low but it was easy to know exactly what the mother was saying. She was heartbroken but hopeful and determined to do whatever it took to get her daughter home safe.
She mentioned how smart and capable her daughter was. Then she sent a message to her daughter to be strong. Mrs. Wheeler promised her that help was on the way.
It was hard to watch her send a message to her daughter when she didn't know if she would ever see her again.
I rubbed my chest where my heart ached.
"She looks like a completely different woman" Bree blinked back tears.
"I was just thinking that. This is the same woman we met in Springer, isn't it?" I asked.
Bree pointed out the same haircut, the same ring on her middle finger, and the same nervous tick of her lips. "That is Mrs. Wheeler."
"Except the woman we met was a mess. This woman's got spark. Look at her. She's fierce," I said. "She doesn't look like a woman who's going to give up. Looking at this video, can you imagine her holing up in her house and barely answering the door?"
"No," Bree said. "She looks determined. The Mrs. Wheeler we met was nothing like that."
"And why would she start avoiding the press? I would think that would be the opposite of what any parent would do," I said.
"Maybe Mrs. Wheeler lost hope?" Bree wondered. "Something like that would change you. But why would she call the police on us?"
I nodded. "You would think Mrs. Wheeler would be talking to anyone that could listen. We told her we just wanted to help. Why would she call the police on us for that?"
She closed out of the news story and gave it back to the love-struck teenager.
I shoved my plate of pancakes across the table. "I don't think I can do this."
"Eat pancakes?" she asked.
"Sit here and do nothing while Maggie is out there. No one is looking for her. Doesn't that bother you?" I asked.
"Of course, it bothers me. My heart is breaking for that little girl and her mother. But that doesn't mean it's your responsibility," Bree said.
I shook my head. "I had her picture. And a postcard from her. Why would I have those things if I wasn't connected somehow?"
Bree took my hand and held it in both of hers. "Maybe there's nothing that can be done."
"I can't live with that. I can't live like this." I brought Bree's hands up to my lips. "I don't want to make things worse for you but I can't leave things like this."
"I know," Bree said. A tear spilled down her cheek.
"What if I was the only one who knew where she was? What if I was trying to save her?" I asked. "I have to try."
Bree gave the diner on
e last glance, as if saying goodbye to Janice and her old life. Then she put a stack of cash under our bill and got up.
"Let's get out of here first. We shouldn't have stayed so long," she said.
"Yeah. I need to walk off those pancakes." And, I thought to myself, convince Bree to take one last detour with me.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Bree
I had to sit down. The diner had made me homesick. Not that Topeka had ever felt like my home, but I still couldn't believe my life there was over. Then our waitress had sounded so like Janice. The thought of Janice and everyone at the diner mourning my supposed death ripped at my heart.
I opened the car door and sat down, leaving my feet on the cracked pavement of the parking lot. It was no use getting in and shutting the door because Nathan needed to pace.
He marched back and forth in front of me like he had something to say but didn't know how. I wondered again if he had been keeping things from me. Then he stopped and shot me a grateful look.
"You're so patient," Nathan said.
I managed a smile for him, and it warmed me up. There was nothing I could do for Janice and everyone I had left behind, but I could help Nathan.
The thought released a tight knot in my chest. It didn't matter if Nathan knew something more than me. He needed me, and I had made him a promise. I was with him to the end, no matter where the end came.
He paced back and forth again. Then he stopped in front of me, scrubbed the light stubble on his chin, and searched for the right words.
I waited but he couldn't say anything. He paced away. I knew Nathan was hesitating because of me. He didn't want to drag me through anything more. The thought that I was stopping him nagged at me. I couldn't be the reason he made a choice he was obviously already regretting.
Nathan rammed his hands in his pockets and shuffled back to the car. I looked up again.
"We should get going, huh?" Nathan said.
His avoidance of the topic irritated me. "Where are we heading?"
Nathan rocked on his heels. "What did we decide on? The giant jar of jam?"
I stood up and marched over to stand toe to toe with him. "You're really not going to say it?"