Emerald Street

by Felicia Rogers

  “That’s what I thought.” Jack’s heart pumped faster and faster as he bypassed her downstairs' apartment and headed straight for his own, dragging her along with him.

  “I should probably get to my own—”

  “Just come upstairs for a minute.”

  She shrugged and followed him. The stairs creaked beneath his weight, and he wondered about their conversation. They had yet to discuss the events in Sapphire Shoals or her hasty retreat from his life two years ago. Perhaps now was the time. Their relationship was stable, and he knew he would never allow her to leave him again, so maybe now they could thrash out the past and get it out of the way.

  The thought caused butterflies in his stomach. Keys rattled in his nervous hands, and he dropped them more than once. Raylyn picked them up after the third incident and unlocked the door. She opened it, and he reached around and flipped the light switch.

  “Hello, son.”

  Jack’s stilled. His throat clenched. His father stood in the middle of his living area, but he wasn’t alone. A woman Jack vaguely remembered stood next to him. She approached and cupped Jack’s cheek.

  “It’s good to see you again, Jack.”

  “Tabitha…” The word pulled from him liked being smacked by a Mack truck.

  ****

  Raylyn couldn’t move.

  Tabitha held Jack’s face. “Jack, baby! When your dad called and said he’d heard from you after all this time, I just couldn’t believe it.” She pursed her red puffy lips and planted a kiss on his cheek, leaving a lipstick impression.

  The elderly gentleman moved forward. “Son.”

  “Dad.”

  They embraced in a fierce hug. The man offered his hand. “I’m Jeb Williams, Jack’s father.”

  Her mouth was dry, her tongue stuck to the roof. She managed a nod.

  Jeb squeezed Jack’s forearm and led him to the table.

  “Have you known Jack long?” asked Tabitha.

  Raylyn licked her lips. “Yes.”

  Tabitha shot a glance at Jack and his father. From the side of her mouth, she said, “Thank you for taking care of him, but we can take it from here.”

  Raylyn opened her mouth to protest.

  “Tabby, bring that book of photos over here,” yelled Jeb.

  She swayed her hips as she approached the table.

  Raylyn backed from the room. On the balcony, she ran down the stairs and into the courtyard; faster and faster she moved away from the apartment and the pain.

  Memories of Jack sleeping in the hospital, calling out that he loved someone, leaning in to hear the name, heart thumping, thinking it would be her name he called, then hearing the word — aby.

  Was it her? Could aby stand for Tabitha?

  The lady looked so familiar. Like the one who had come to the hospital the day the flowers with the emerald accents had arrived. The lady with long blond hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin.

  A cry rent the air. Her heart beat loudly between her ears. She ran until it felt like her lungs would burst. When she stopped, she doubled over and held her side, returning in the direction of her apartment. Tears blurred her vision, and she swiped them away.

  The neighborhood she’d stopped in was close to the city center. Her route would take her past the clinic. Light burned in the windows. For a moment, her torment dimmed as shadows danced behind the curtains.

  Sneaking to the window, she peered inside. Voices drifted through an opening.

  “Tomas, I have found the box. Now what?”

  “Simple, Jorge. We take the information to the general.”

  “Then we will attack, yes?”

  “Correct. We will make them all pay for choosing the wrong side.”

  Raylyn stepped back. A twig snapped.

  “What was that?”

  “Someone is outside!”

  As Raylyn attempted to spin around, a sweaty palm clamped over her mouth, and warm breath struck her ear. “You should have stayed away, mi bella dama.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jack nodded until his neck ached. Pages of pictures drifted before his eyes. Tabitha and his father worked to interest him in the past, when all he wanted was to find Raylyn and discuss the future.

  “Are you paying attention, Jack?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Well, I’ve been speaking to you about the first blue ribbon you won for bull-riding, but you don’t seem much interested in what I’m sayin’.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I’m a little overwhelmed.”

  “I know you said you’d come visit when your time was up, but I figured, since I’m retired and Tabby here had a vacation, we’d surprise you.”

  “It is definitely a surprise.”

  “Yeah, that was quite a trip. I thought we weren’t never gonna land. Them planes just keep gettin’ bigger. This one time, I took your mom to Europe, and I declare, that was the biggest metal can I’ve ever seen, but this one was at least as big.”

  “Yes, well, it is far from home.”

  Tabitha smoothed her hand over his hair. “It is so good to see you.”

  He nodded and bit the lining of his mouth. How was he going to get out of this mess?

  “I heard about your accident.”

  Jack looked at his thigh, and she squeezed his hands.

  “I came right away, even though that army hospital was so far away, and I was in beauty school. I just couldn’t not see you. Then when I got there, this nurse plowed into me. I fell backward and broke my heel! Plus, I bruised my tailbone.” She massaged her backside and continued to make excuses. “They stuck me in some remote corner of the hospital, and by the time they released me, it was too late to visit because I had to return to school.”

  Tabitha hadn’t changed much. Her hair was bleached blond, almost white, her brown eyes had changed to aquamarine, no doubt because of colored contacts. She wore lots of makeup: blush, eye shadow, dark red lipstick, black eyeliner, and thick mascara. And she was still self-centered.

  Her skirt rode up to her mid-thigh as she crossed her legs and leaned into his side. He found it hard to fathom that at one time he'd believed he was in love with her. Apparently, breaking up with her before his stint in the military had been the right decision.

  “I talked to the missionary board and explained your unique situation. I told them you needed rest, and they agreed to let you come home early.”

  He jumped to his feet. “You did what!”

  She followed him. “You shouldn’t worry. I bet there are lots of people able to do this job, but in your condition—”

  “I think you need to leave.”

  “What? I can’t leave. I just got here!”

  “Dad, you can stay with me, and maybe Raylyn will let Tabitha bunk with her until tomorrow. Then you two can go home.”

  “Now son—”

  “I’ll be back.” He left the room angrier than he’d ever been in his entire life.

  Downstairs, he tapped on Raylyn’s door. No light filtered through the curtains, and he peered through the crack, but didn’t see anything. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

  ****

  Pain laced her wrists and raced along her arms. Raw flesh burned beneath the rope. She sucked in a swift breath with each accidental movement. Her head struck the truck’s floorboard as it bounced along the unknown road.

  The truck stopped, and supplies were loaded. Unmarked boxes wedged her against the wall. She squeezed into a ball, bile rising in her throat.

  How much time had passed remained a mystery. Darkness blanketed the earth. Around daybreak, the truck halted, the gate dropped, and the crates were unloaded. Three men hovered above her.

  “Tomas, what do we have here?” asked the newcomer.

  There was no answer and the newcomer added, “I take it the young lady is for the general.”

  Tomas replied, “The poor lady is the unfortunate accident of wagging tongues.”

  “I didn’t say a word, Tomas. I only spoke w
hen you did and—“

  The pop of a slap echoed.

  “I never said it was your tongue, Jorge. Now help me move her.”

  Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes as they dragged her from the truck bed and dropped her onto the dry, cracked ground. Lanterns lit their faces, and she lowered her gaze. She recognized two of them from Manuel’s party. They had complained about Christians invading their land.

  “What do we do with her?” asked the newcomer.

  Jorge shrugged as his massive shadow dwarfed her trembling frame. “Probably best to kill her then dump her remains in one of the buildings set to burn.”

  Tomas shook his head. “No, the general has other plans.”

  “Where do we store her? Do we leave her here or—” asked Jorge.

  Tomas didn’t respond. Instead, he forced her onto a flat wooden structure. “Let’s put her in the helicopter. I want no chance that she might escape.”

  Laid on a stretcher and tied down, Raylyn stared at the helicopter’s ceiling. She waited. Passengers filed in, kicking her multiple times. The rag shoved in her mouth kept her from yelling out in pain.

  Prepared for take-off, they bounced off the ground. Rotary blades swirled overhead. Her stomach lurched.

  Mentally, she counted. The journey over unknown territory took approximately fifteen minutes. In the clunker of a copter, they had probably traveled around thirty miles when the landing skids touched down and the blades slowed.

  The men disembarked. Moments passed. Raylyn struggled to breathe around her gag. Jerky movements alerted her as the stretcher was dragged from the helicopter.

  Still attached to the wooden platform, she was propped upright against a scraggly tree. The thin foliage offered little shade, and the sun hurt her uncovered gaze. She lowered her head and blinked. White spots danced across her vision.

  Jorge called, “We brought her.”

  Another voice answered in rapid Spanish.

  Jorge replied, “She won’t have a chance to escape, I guarantee it.”

  The conversation continued. When it ended, a shadow approached. Raylyn kept her gaze downward. Roughly, her chin was clasped and jerked upward. The rag was ripped from her mouth. She fought a gasp as she recognized Juan Guerrero.

  “I have long believed Christians with their morality and loving their fellow man would be the ruination of us. We must go back to our roots, to the old ways.”

  She wrested her chin away and asked, “Don’t the Zapatista’s believe that way?”

  The slap made her ears ring.

  “They believe peaceful protests and random acts will be enough to sway the populace, but I know we must hit faster, harder, if we are to be taken seriously, if we are to make a difference.”

  He stalked with his hands behind his back like an angry cat. “Perhaps ordering Tomas to bring you here was an error. This compound is not a comforting place.” He hunched, his posture like a charging rhino. “You will stay with the prisoners. If you survive,” he paused perhaps waiting for a reaction, “then we will kill you and burn you. Or maybe, your rich boyfriend will pay for your release. His funds would further our cause much more than your death. Hmm, this deserves consideration. Perhaps my original decision to bring you here was correct.”

  He left her, and she leaned her head back against the tree, drew in a deep breath, and prayed for protection from a madman.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Jack grabbed a fist full of Alfonzo’s shirt. Between gritted teeth, he asked, “Where is she?”

  Alfonzo slapped his hands away and smoothed his shirt. “Calm down. I’m sure—”

  Jack ran his hand over his head. “She is not at the clinic, she’s not at her apartment, and she’s not in the city center. She’s nowhere to be found and—”

  “She’s only been missing for a few hours. Maybe she went back to the Amber Expo and is shopping—”

  Jack drew closer. “My ex-girlfriend showed up and kissed me right before Raylyn high-tailed it out of my apartment.”

  Alfonzo stepped back. “If this is the case, perhaps she is hiding and licking her wounds, as you Americans say.”

  Jack sighed. “This is my fault. I took too long to propose.”

  “Propose?”

  “Yeah. I was going to pop the question tonight, but my dad and Tabitha showed up, and boy, I’m glad to see my dad because I wasn’t sure if we would ever reconnect, but here he is, and Tabitha? I dumped her before I left for the military, but she doesn’t always listen too good, and now my nerves are causin’ me to ramble.”

  Alfonzo patted his back. “I know you fear for her safety. We will contact the police.”

  Tabitha and his father waited at Alfonzo’s house with Manuel as they made the trip to the station. Tabitha had wanted to come, but Jack had refused. Not even her pouty lower lip had changed his mind.

  The station house contained officers and criminals. Escorted to the chief’s office, Jack forced himself to tell the entire story again. Finished with the tale, the chief leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.

  “Why do you believe this girl has experienced foul play?”

  “Because she’s disappeared, and Raylyn wouldn’t just abandon—“ The rest of the words stuck in his throat. She’d abandoned him once before. The memory seemed distant after their recent time together.

  The chief waited for a response.

  When he gave it, he found himself standing and saying, “Never mind.”

  Alfonzo followed tight on his heels. He whispered, “What are you doing? What if she is in real danger?”

  Jack stopped outside on the quiet sidewalk. The Amber Expo had closed, and the tourists were probably all safely secured in their beds. He faced Alfonzo. “Look, it’s painful for me to admit, but Raylyn left me once before.”

  Alfonzo’s brow rose. “Que?”

  “I left the military in a coma. Maybe it should have been in a body bag, but for whatever reason, God spared me.” He paused then added, “Raylyn was one of the nurses who nursed me back to health.”

  “And—”

  “And we grew close. I improved and was moved to another floor, and Raylyn followed. When I left the hospital and went to a therapy site, she just split. No word of explanation, no goodbye hug, no I’ll see you later, just poof, gone. Later I discovered she went to work at some clinic in a tiny Podunk named Sapphire Shoals.”

  “Why?”

  He threw his hands up. “I don’t know!”

  “You didn’t ask?”

  “Sure, that’s a great conversation to have. Hey, girlfriend, why did you split before? Relationships don’t work that way.”

  “You mean with honesty?”

  “It’s not so simple.”

  “If you would have asked her, I bet there would have been a logical explanation.”

  “Knowing Raylyn I’m sure she would have thought so.”

  “You see no logical reason?”

  “I guess if she wanted to get away from a cripple, then yeah, there’s a logical reason.”

  “No other?”

  “I can’t think of any.”

  “But something must have transpired. Raylyn doesn’t run from conflict.”

  “And you know this because…?”

  “Because she has long felt at odds with the new doctor, but she knows of the peoples’ need, and she has persevered.”

  Jack tired of the conversation. He spun on his heel and stalked toward the apartment. Alfonzo loped behind. He didn’t go to his room but rather to Raylyn’s. He jimmied the door open. Clothing hung in the closet. Suitcases lay under her bed. Food stores lined the shelves.

  Alfonzo said, “She has not run off. Something else has happened.”

  ****

  Raylyn’s heart clenched with fear. Stowed in an underground prison, her only view of the outside world was through an opening covered with bars. She tiptoed on her bed and looked out. The grounds flooded with paramilitary-type individuals. Guns hung over their shoulders
as they stood erect. Juan Guerrero high-stepped before the men.

  They cheered, and he accentuated his movements. He stopped, and the joviality came to an abrupt halt.

  “Times must change. Gone are the days were we attempt to change policy through proper channels. The government doesn’t care what we think!”

  The crowd lifted their weapons and yelled.

  Juan’s voice rose another octave. “They want us to fall in line, but we are not their slaves. They will label us as radicals. The Zapistas will say we are rebels even from them. But it won’t matter. They will benefit from our success, and one day, even if behind closed doors, we will be touted as heroes!”

  The crowd’s uproar grew until the walls of her prison trembled. She moved away from the window, off the bed, and into the middle of her cell.

  “He must have the box.” The gravelly voice came from an emaciated figure chained to a wall in a neighboring cell. “With possession of the box they have power.”

  Raylyn moved to the rusty barred door and slid to the cracked floor. “What’s in the box?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What?” She squeezed a bar and blinked rapidly.

  “The box is empty.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It means it is hollow—“

  “No, I understand the word empty. I don’t understand how an empty box gives them power.”

  “Ah. The power resides not from what is inside, but rather from what the people perceive is inside.”

  “So the men believe a box’s content will assist them in their cause?”

  “They do.”

  “What could they possibly believe is in a box that would help them? Do they think it’s magic?”

  “Not magic. They believe it contains a list.”

  She arched a brow, and he continued.

  “The list is said to contain names of prominent religious leaders in Chiapas. With the list, only those truly in charge of the blasphemous groups would be attacked or harmed.