Blown Away

by Muriel Jensen

  Maybe he’d go over in the morning and take Taylor out for breakfast, try to explain Kara’s reasoning to him and make him see how much she loved him.

  Finally exhausted, he lay down on the sofa and Mel curled up on the floor beside him. It was barely light when the telephone woke him up again. He was going to have to disconnect the damn thing, he thought as he stumbled to answer it.

  He recognized Kara’s voice but didn’t understand a thing she said. She was crying.

  “Kara, I’m not understanding you. Is it Taylor?”

  The word “Gone!” came through clearly.

  Still dressed from the night before, he grabbed his keys, called Mel to him and ran out to his truck.

  Looking like death in his old gray sweats, her face pale, her hair in a disheveled ponytail, Kara showed Cole Taylor’s empty room. “His backpack’s gone, and he took all the money out of his truck bank. Cole, he’s run away!”

  “Okay, but he’s still a little kid. He can’t have gotten too far. How long’s he been gone?”

  “I’m not sure. I slept in the living room. I checked him about four a.m. and he was still there. I woke up about an hour later to the sound of wind on the roof….”

  Cole remembered Taylor had said something about climbing onto the roof from his bedroom window to help put up the reindeer. The little boy could use the same technique to reach the plum tree and climb down to the ground.

  The same thought must have occurred to Kara. She put both hands over her mouth and cried, “He climbed out his window!”

  Cole held her briefly, then put her to work. “Find me something he wore yesterday or something he slept in, to give Mel his scent. I’m going to call the department.”

  That done, he called his aunt Shirley and asked her to come and sit with Kara.

  “Do you have any thoughts on where he might have gone?” he asked as she followed him out to his truck.

  “I’ve been racking my brain,” she said miserably. “I can’t think of anything. He’s just so mad at me, he wanted to get away. He could be anywhere. Find him, Cole,” she pleaded.

  “I will,” he promised as he locked Mel in the passenger seat. “Go inside and have a cup of coffee and something to eat. You have to keep your wits about you.”

  “If I had any wits, I’d have told him the truth in the first place!”

  “Come on. No self-flagellation. That isn’t going to help. I’ll keep in touch. You call my cell if you hear anything.”

  Kara nodded, tears streaming down her face. She made a pathetic figure as she waved him off. He was relieved to see his aunt hurrying down the street on her way to stay with Kara. He tapped the horn lightly as he passed Shirley, and she blew him a kiss.

  Cole did his best to suppress panic. He forced himself not to think about the things that could happen to a little kid walking alone at this hour. The sky was lightening to a cold gray as he drove slowly past the school, then did a quick walk through the playground with Mel, on the chance Taylor had recognized his truck and was hiding from him.

  Then Cole cruised through the neighborhood, carefully checking both sides of the street, looking up side streets, watching for some sign of the familiar blue jacket. Nothing. How far could Taylor have gone?

  In the shopping district nearby, early morning patrons wandered in and out of the bakery, the variety store, a coffee bar. Cole parked the truck and checked out each place, but no one had seen a boy wandering on his own.

  He drove a little way down the highway, then turned around, certain Taylor couldn’t have gone that far unless…someone had picked him up.

  He didn’t want to consider that, though he knew the department would be working on such a possibility.

  This time he headed in the opposite direction and tried to reason where an eight-year-old would have gone. His first thought was a friend’s house, but the mother would have called Kara by now.

  Frustration was driving up his blood pressure and reducing his ability to think clearly. Mel whined in sympathy.

  As Cole pulled out to pass a large tractor-trailer rig with a full load, a light suddenly went on in his brain.

  Trucks! Taylor loved trucks! Cole remembered the night Kara and Taylor had helped him buy his Christmas tree and Cole had taken them to dinner. They’d passed the Esmee Engines plant not far from their neighborhood, and Taylor had talked about wanting to drive a big rig when he grew up. They’d speculated on where the trucks went, where the drivers stayed, what the best truck stops were. The plant was close enough that Taylor could have walked there.

  “That’s it, Mel!” Cole said, racing in the direction of the plant. Mel barked, catching Cole’s excitement. Five minutes later Cole pulled onto the large concrete pad where Esmee Engines’ fleet of trucks was usually parked. But only one truck was left there. Mel whined, eager to get to work.

  Cole put the lead on him, gave him a good whiff of Taylor’s pajamas and followed as the dog sniffed the air and then the ground, ignoring a man in coveralls who walked out of a loading bay and came toward them.

  “Can I help you?” The man looked annoyed at their intrusion, even suspicious.

  Cole remembered belatedly that he wasn’t wearing a uniform or driving a department vehicle.

  Restraining Mel, Cole pulled out his badge with his free hand. “I’m Officer Winslow with the Courage Bay P.D. We’re looking for a missing boy about eight years old. He’s fascinated by your trucks, and I thought he might be around here.”

  The man’s manner became more receptive, though he shook his head. “Haven’t seen a boy around.”

  Another man in jeans and a blue-and-gray flannel jacket walked out of the bay.

  “Maldonado,” the first man called to him. “You see a little boy around here this morning? This officer’s looking for a lost kid.”

  Maldonado nodded, tucking the paper he held into a pocket of his jacket. “’Bout an hour ago,” he said. “I got a call on my cell phone, and by the time I hung up, he was gone. I figured he went home.”

  “Blue coat? Backpack? About eight years old?”

  Maldonado frowned. “Big for eight. I’d have given him eleven or twelve—old enough to be on his own.”

  That was Taylor. “So, you didn’t see him leave?”

  Maldonado shook his head.

  “Could he have gone inside the building?” Cole asked the other man, hope rising in him.

  He shook his head. “I’d have seen him.”

  “Was the truck open?”

  Maldonado nodded. “Steiner was loading up.”

  Mel barked furiously.

  “Where’s the truck going?” Cole asked, running Mel back to his own truck.

  The other two men kept up with him. “His first stop’s California Automotive. It’s at the end of the Fortune Mall. You know, that little strip mall near the road to the freeway?”

  “How long ago did he leave?”

  “Not sure. Ten minutes?”

  “Okay!” Cole ran around to the driver’s side. “If I miss him, I’ll call you for the rest of his schedule. Meanwhile, can you call him and warn him he might have a child in the semitrailer?”

  The man shrugged apologetically. “Radio’s not working in that rig. I’m sorry. We keep meaning to replace it…”

  Cole shook his head. “What’s the next stop after the strip mall?”

  “About thirty miles away.”

  That wasn’t good.

  Maldonado handed him a business card. “There’s the number of the plant. Anything else we can do?”

  “I’ll call if there is. Thanks.”

  He jumped into the truck and sped away, praying they were right about this, that Taylor was in the back of the rig and that he was safe. He called the station to tell them where he was going.

  Cole made it to the Fortune Mall in seven minutes and saw with great relief that the big Esmee Engines truck was parked there, in front of California Automotive. A large Santa had been painted on the side of the container, his bag
displaying the Esmee logo.

  The back of the trailer was open, the loading ramp down. The driver was probably inside the store, making his deliveries. Cole said a little prayer that Taylor hadn’t jumped out and taken off.

  He gave Mel the scent again and let him loose. Barking excitedly, Mel ran to the truck and right up the ramp.

  Taylor was inside.

  Cole raced up the ramp himself. Boxes were piled high on either side, with only a small aisle down the middle for the driver.

  “Taylor!” Cole shouted, making his way to the back.

  He heard nothing but Mel’s barking.

  “Mel, stop!” Cole said firmly. In the silence he heard the dog’s thumping tail. Mel had found Taylor.

  “Taylor, it’s Cole,” he said, sidling back. “Come on out. You’re not in trouble, I just want to take you home.”

  A pair of arms wrapped suddenly around his waist as boy and backpack slammed against him.

  Cole hugged Taylor to him, grateful the boy was in one piece.

  “I wanted to run away,” Taylor said tearfully, “but I didn’t know where to go! So I climbed into the truck. I was going to get out, but the door was locked and we were driving away and I knew I was in big trouble!”

  “Come on.” Cole took Taylor firmly by the hand and led him out of the dark trailer. At the ramp, he leaped down, reached up for Taylor and lifted the boy into his arms, holding on to him for a minute as Taylor sobbed his fear and relief.

  “It’s going to be all right,” Cole said firmly. “I know you’re feeling really bad, but it’s nothing we can’t fix or learn to live with.”

  “Mom probably hates me!”

  “Never. She was frantic when she discovered you were gone. We’re going to call her right now.”

  Taylor tightened his grip on Cole. “My dad’s a bad guy.”

  “I know. But that doesn’t really affect you, even though it feels like it does.” Cole started for the truck, the boy still in his arms. Mel trotted beside him, pleased with himself for a job well done.

  There was a small coffee shop next to the automotive store that was just opening for business. When Cole glanced at it, he noticed the driver coming out of California Automotive with an empty dolly. He wondered whether he should take the time to fill the guy in, but decided to leave that to his co-workers. The sooner Cole got Taylor back to Kara, the better.

  Suddenly a giant, reverberating boom split the air. The earth shook, and glass shattered, flying everywhere. People screamed as Cole hit the ground, Taylor still in his arms. He shielded the boy with his body, gathering Mel close, too, as debris rained down on them.

  Once the shower stopped, Cole raised his head to see that the front of the coffee shop and automotive store had been blown away. The awnings hung in tatters, all the windows were missing, and automotive parts were strewn over the parking lot.

  Cole got to his feet, pulling Taylor up with him. “You okay?” he demanded.

  Trembling, Taylor nodded.

  Mel was already on duty, rooting through a pile of rubble in front of the coffee shop.

  Taylor pointed his finger at the truck he’d been hiding in. “Look!” he said in a strangled whisper.

  The entire back of the trailer was blown off, and the sides were turned and twisted. The remaining boxes of automotive parts sat burning on the concrete. Cole’s heart lodged in his throat as he realized that only a minute ago, he and Taylor and Mel had been in that truck.

  “Okay!” Galvanized into action, he turned to his own truck, saw mercifully that it remained in one piece, and hurried to put Taylor in it. He handed the boy his cell phone. “Call 911 for me,” he said, “and tell them there’s been an explosion at the Fortune Mall. Got that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then call your mom and tell her you’re all right, but that we might be a little while.”

  “Okay.”

  Cole ran over to Mel, who stood in front of the coffee shop, barking for him. He dreaded what he would find, remembering the two young women he’d seen walking toward the shop just before the explosion. But he was happily surprised to see one of them, bruised and dusty, tending to her friend, who was pinned on the ground by one of the awning poles. At least both women seemed alert.

  Cole lifted the pole off the young woman.

  “Jeez!” she said as Cole helped her to her feet. “Who needs a wake-up cup of coffee?”

  A sense of humor was always a good sign, Cole figured. She brushed herself off, and she and her friend began looking around for their purses.

  Cole directed them toward the far end of the parking lot. “Save the search until the fire trucks arrive, okay?”

  Mel was already in the shop and barking furiously. Behind the counter, a dazed young man stared at the gaping hole where the front wall had been.

  Cole caught his arm and drew him out of the building. “Anyone else inside?” he asked. He had to repeat the question.

  “Uh…no,” the young man replied, finally coming around. “I work the first hour alone.”

  “Good. Please stay away from the shop. Police and fire department are on the way.”

  Mel had moved on to the automotive shop. The Esmee driver had a gash on his forearm, but he was well enough to help an older man in coveralls whose head was covered in blood. The driver put his handkerchief to the wound to stanch the flow.

  “You two all right?” Cole asked.

  The old guy nodded. “Yeah. I was in the back. I got down in time, but the cash register fell on my head.” He smiled weakly. “Good thing there’s never much money in it.”

  “Was there anyone else inside?” he asked, noticing Mel was sniffing the ground.

  “No. I came in early to meet the delivery truck.”

  “What the hell happened?” the driver asked Cole.

  Cole pointed to the back of his semitrailer. “Looks like something you were carrying exploded. You two sit tight. There’s an ambulance on its way.” Cole called Mel to him and checked the rest of the mall for damage. A crowd of people had started to gather, some to see if they could help, others just to gawk.

  The emergency services units arrived with a couple of fire trucks and several ambulances. Everyone was relieved to see how minimal the injuries and damage were, considering how mangled the truck was.

  Cole intercepted Dan Egan, the fire chief. He was a big guy, in his forties and well-respected. Cole told him what he’d seen.

  Dan nodded, then walked with Cole to the damaged truck. “Looks like a job for Sam,” he said.

  Sam Prophet was the fire department’s arson investigator.

  The fire chief frowned at Cole. “This is the same truck where you found the missing kid?”

  “Yeah.” There was a hitch in Cole’s breath, and in the beat of his heart. “I’d just gotten him out, and we were walking across the parking lot to my truck with Mel when it blew.”

  Dan clapped him on the back. “You got your Christmas gift a couple of days early.”

  Cole knew that. It was another miracle.

  After checking in with the police officer in charge, Cole left to take Taylor home.

  A fire truck was positioned between him and his vehicle. When he ran around it, Mel following, he found Kara leaning into the cab of his truck, Taylor wrapped in her arms. She was squeezing the life out of him while he tried to assure her in a strangled voice that he was fine. Shirley stood beside them, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

  “Me and Cole and Mel were walking across the parking lot and there was this boom!” Taylor flung both arms wide open, forcing Kara to release him. “All this burning stuff fell on Cole, but he was laying on me and Mel, so we didn’t get hurt.”

  “Burning stuff…!” Cole heard her gasp. “Where is Cole?”

  “I’m right here,” Cole said, thinking how selfish it was of him to be pleased at how worried she looked. “I’m fine,” he reassured her.

  “Oh, Cole!” She hugged him with surprising strength. “When Taylor ca
lled and told me what happened, I couldn’t just sit home and wait, so Shirley drove us here. Is Mel okay?”

  Mel barked at the sound of his name and licked her hand.

  Shirley reached around Kara to pat Cole’s shoulder. “I know you’d have rather she waited, but she was determined.”

  Kara pushed him away and turned him around. “There’s a giant hole in your shirt!” she exclaimed.

  He was surprised to feel her fingertips on his bare back.

  “Well, you’re burned, but I don’t think it’s too bad. I’ll put some stuff on it when we get home.” She turned him around again. “Can you leave?”

  “Yeah. We got lucky. No serious injuries, and the fires will be out in no time. Want to come to my house so I can get another shirt?”

  He’d been so busy savoring the love in Kara’s eyes that he hadn’t noticed that Taylor had both arms around his waist and was squeezing him tightly.

  Kara’s gaze went to her son, then to Cole. She looked surprised.

  Cole put a hand on Taylor’s back. “And I have an angel that should be installed on top of the tree. Christmas is only four days away.”

  “Yeah.” Taylor’s reply was calmly contented rather than wildly excited. “Can I ride home with you?” he asked Cole.

  “I’ll just go on my way,” Shirley said, “so the three of you can…”

  “I need to talk to Cole alone,” Taylor said seriously. “Is that okay, Aunt Shirley? Can you take Mom to Cole’s house?”

  “If you call me your aunt Shirley,” she said with a beaming smile, “I’ll do anything you want.” She caught Kara’s arm and drew her along with her to her car.

  Kara looked at Cole and her son over her shoulder as she was led away, apparently not sure whether she should be worried.

  Cole felt the same way. He put Mel in the back, making a mental note to give him a steak when they got home because of his on-his-toes performance this morning, then closed Taylor into the passenger seat and climbed in behind the wheel.

  He maneuvered carefully around various emergency vehicles before finally turning onto the road, which was clogged with onlookers. It was a few minutes before he got by them and headed for home.