by Jana DeLeon
“You’re staying at Corrine’s?”
“For now. She’s not ready to be alone. She’d never admit it, but I know her. Being back here will prompt her into action, though. My mother has never been the type to sit idly by while life is happening. Once she gets started with whatever she decides to tackle first, it will occupy her time and get her mind focused on other things.”
“I’m glad. Corrine’s place affords you a lot more privacy than you could get at your own place.”
“Definitely.” Given that the press had the right to stand on the sidewalk quite literally outside her front door, Corrine’s estate was practically an island escape. As soon as she stepped outside the gates, they would be on her, but at least she wouldn’t be inside the house knowing they were standing inches from her exterior walls.
“So I guess if I want to visit you,” Jackson said, “it will be with parental supervision?”
Shaye laughed. “I would tell you I can make her go away, but I’m not about to toss that lie out there. We might be able to step outside for a private conversation, though. Mind you, I’m not making promises.”
“That’s okay. I’ll take you however I can get you. I’m just happy you’re back.”
A blush crept up her neck and onto her face, and Jackson smiled.
“I’m happy I’m back, too.” She rose from her chair. “But I should get out of here. You have things to do and I have to get my bearings and make a plan.”
He followed her to the front door and when she turned to look at him before opening it, he moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly.
She’d worried how she’d feel if he touched her. Concerned that her body would unintentionally move away from him. But it had been wasted worry. As his arms tightened around her and she felt the heat from his body radiating against her own, so many emotions swept through her. Comfort, safety, trust, and a couple that she wasn’t quite ready to reveal.
Soon, she thought, and that one word made her infinitely happy.
Ethan Campbell awakened, confused and feeling ill. Slowly, he pushed himself up and looked around the dim room, trying to figure out where he was, but nothing looked familiar. The ten-by-ten room had splintered gray wood like what you’d see on a storage shed, but Ethan wasn’t friends with anyone who had a lawn, much less a shed. He glanced around and groaned, then clutched his head with his hands. His head pounded and even the slightest movement sent shock waves through his entire body.
He blinked several times, then very slowly turned his head, studying the room for a clue as to how he’d gotten here and why. But the empty shelves and broken broom in the corner didn’t tell him anything. Afraid to stand, he shifted onto his knees and inched toward the door across the room. When he reached it, he put his fingers under the splintered wood and tugged, but it remained in place. He clutched the shelves and pulled himself into a standing position, then grabbed the door handle and pulled again.
It didn’t budge.
There was a crack between the door and the wall, and he leaned forward to peer out of it. His heart fell when he saw the chain and padlock on the outside. Starting to panic, he pulled on the door over and over again until his head hurt so much he stumbled backward into the wall. He fell down onto his knees and retched, but there wasn’t much in his stomach.
What in the world was going on?
Then he remembered the text. Was this about the text? He’d ignored it because Tara had insisted someone was messing with him. Since that happened more than he liked to admit, he’d been reluctant to argue with her. He’d finally decided that she was right and that the message had been intended for someone else. But maybe they’d both been wrong. Maybe it had been meant for him and because he hadn’t followed the instructions, he was here now.
What if they were going to kill him? Like they did the other girl?
He’d seen her picture on television. Tara didn’t think the text picture and the girl on television were the same person, but Ethan hadn’t been as certain. People, especially girls, could look a lot different when they changed their hair and makeup. Besides, if this wasn’t about the text, what else could it be about? Plenty of people wished he’d mess up on an exam and lower the curve in class, but he couldn’t think of anyone who would go to the extreme of kidnapping him just to make sure he missed a test.
He felt his pockets but his phone was gone. His wallet, however, was still in his back pocket. He pulled it out and looked inside, surprised to see the forty dollars he’d gotten out of the ATM still inside. What kind of criminal kidnapped someone and didn’t take their money?
Maybe the kind that’s planning on killing you and can get the money later?
He took a deep breath in and slowly blew it out.
Think. You’re smart.
Unfortunately, he was afraid smart wasn’t going to get him what he needed this time. For the millionth time in his life, he wished he were big and strong, not the skinny, nerdy weakling who couldn’t fight his way out of a wet paper bag. Someone strong could probably knock down that door or even go through a wall. He couldn’t even move without wanting to hurl. The odds of him tearing down a door were so slim they weren’t even worth considering.
He looked down and studied the floor. It was dirt, but it was compacted so hard it felt like cement. If he had something to dig with…the broom! The broken broom handle had a jagged edge. Maybe it was enough to dig with. If the hard layer was only a top coat, it shouldn’t take more than a couple hours to dig a hole big enough for him to squeeze through.
He started crawling toward the broom, praying that he had a couple hours before whoever had taken him returned.
4
Shaye unlocked the front door to her apartment and stepped inside, rushing to turn off the alarm. As soon as she finished the disarming, she hurried to lock the front door and pull the dead bolt behind her. All of the blinds were drawn, making the room so dim she could barely make out the shape of the office furniture.
She flipped on the overhead lights and walked through the front room, which served as her office, and into the combined kitchen and living area. It looked as it had when she’d left. Eleonore would have emptied the refrigerator and pantry of anything that would spoil while they were gone, but everything else was just as it had been the last time Shaye had walked out the front door.
A layer of dust covered every surface, making the granite countertops and dark wood coffee table look dull. Even the hardwood floors looked faded, as if they’d sat out in the sunlight for a year. It was nothing a mop and a dust rag couldn’t handle…if she felt like breaking out a mop and a dust rag. She dwelled on it for a couple seconds but ultimately decided that cleaning could wait until she was living here again. Why dust twice when once would do? It was an efficiency thing.
She went to her refrigerator and was happy to find a case of bottled water chilling inside. She took one and inspected the bedrooms and baths, happy to find everything in order and nothing leaking. Just more dust and some laundry that had needed a wash for so long she probably should throw it away and start over.
If only the rest of life were as easy as dust and dirty laundry. Somebody needed perking up—run a damp rag over them and make them all shiny and new. Somebody worn past the state of usefulness or repair—toss out the bad parts and order some energy, attitude, and a better mental state from Amazon and have it shipped to your door for free with a Prime membership.
She blew out a breath and shook her head.
It was time to leave before someone caught sight of her and the media descended. They could easily block her SUV in and it would take a lot of time and resources that the New Orleans police didn’t have to get her freed. And right now, Shaye doubted her popularity with the police department. Granted, nothing that had happened was her fault, but that didn’t often matter when people were upset and looking for someone to blame.
She paused at the front door to set the alarm, but as she reached up to press the butt
ons, someone knocked on the door. Crap. They’d found her already. She lifted a slat on the blinds a tiny bit to peer outside but instead of the camera crew she expected to see, a young woman with short blond hair and a Lafitte University T-shirt stood outside. A quick scan of the street didn’t reveal a white van potentially hiding a camera crew. In fact, the only car on the street was her own.
You don’t have to answer. Just stay quiet until she goes away.
Shaye dropped the slat and took one step back. It would be easier to stay hidden, but the way the girl chewed on her fingernail and shifted every second or two bothered Shaye. The girl needed help.
You’re in no position to help anyone.
That was true enough, but it wouldn’t hurt to see what the girl needed. Then Shaye could figure out who could help her. Sending the girl to someone else was something Shaye could live with. Ignoring her completely wasn’t.
She reached over, unlocked the door, and pulled it open. The girl, who’d been looking down the street, gave a start.
“Oh!” the girl said. “I didn’t think anyone was there.”
“Can I help you?” Shaye asked.
“Are you Shaye Archer?”
Shaye nodded.
“Of course you are. I’ve seen you on television, but that’s not why I’m here. Well, maybe it is…anyway, I have this friend, and I went to the police but some douche detective dismissed me like I was six-year-old making up bedtime stories.”
The girl’s story sounded very familiar. “Does this douche bag detective have a name?” Shaye asked.
The girl frowned. “Vincent.”
Shaye sighed. “Come inside, please. I’m trying to keep a low profile.”
The girl stepped inside and stood in the middle of the office, glancing around.
Shaye pulled a dust cloth out of her desk drawer and gave the two leather chairs in front of her desk a swipe to remove the worst of the dust. “Have a seat,” Shaye said.
The girl sat down, then Shaye turned the chair next to her a bit so that she could look straight at her while talking. The girl was clearly nervous, and Shaye figured sitting behind the desk would feel more formal and put the girl on edge even more than she already was.
“What’s your name?” Shaye asked.
“Tara Chatry,” she said, looking miserable. “I’m sorry to bother you. This waitress at the café across from the police station said you could help. I saw the stories on the news about how you saved those kids from that awful man. I know you’re in the middle of a shit-storm I can’t begin to imagine, so if you tell me to go away, I’ll totally understand. If I were you, I’d be hiding under the covers, refusing to get out of bed.”
Tara sighed. “I’m rambling.”
“It’s okay,” Shaye said. “My life is a little hard right now, but I will listen to you and I will take you seriously. If necessary, I’ll help you find someone who can take on your case.”
Tara’s shoulders drooped a bit and some of the tension left her face. “That’s great. Seriously. I don’t care who helps, but I need someone.”
“Of course. You said this was about a friend?”
Tara nodded. “Ethan Campbell. He’s a student at the university. Really smart guy, but the nerdy type, you know?”
“I’ve known a few of them.”
“Then you know nerds aren’t the kind of people who disappear without a word to anyone, and that’s exactly what Ethan did. I haven’t heard from him since Sunday night. We have calculus together first thing Monday morning, and I knew something was wrong when he didn’t show up. We had a big test. He helped me study for it all weekend.”
“Does he live on campus?”
“Yeah. I called right before class started but his phone went straight to voice mail. I sent a text, but he never answered. As soon as I finished the test, I went to his dorm room. The idiot he rooms with said he hadn’t seen Ethan since he went to the store for a soda the night before. I checked with the school nurse, with all of his teachers, and searched every corner of the campus and his dorm. No one has seen him.”
“Could there have been a family emergency?” Shaye asked. “Some reason he needed to leave quickly and didn’t take the time to let people know?”
“I don’t see how. Ethan’s parents died a little over a year ago in a car wreck. He doesn’t have anyone else but his grandma, and she’s in a nursing home. Dementia. I called the home to make sure he wasn’t there, but they haven’t seen him in over a week.”
“Any close friends? Someone he might have gone off to help?”
Tears formed in Tara’s eyes and she shook her head. “Ethan didn’t have any real friends but me.”
Tara pulled out her cell phone and turned it around to show Shaye a picture. Tara and a young man, who Shaye presumed was Ethan, were standing in Jackson Square. Tara was laughing. Ethan wore a shy smile and wasn’t looking directly at the camera. He had short dark hair and glasses and looked like he needed to gain a good ten pounds.
“No one hated him,” Tara said. “They just didn’t notice him, you know?”
Shaye had zero experience with going unnoticed but she understood what Tara was saying. “So if something happened, he would have called you.”
“He didn’t have anyone else. That detective said Ethan was probably in an alley somewhere sleeping off a drunk, but there’s no way that’s what happened. Ethan’s as straight as they come. One of the older students brings beer to the parties but Ethan won’t drink it. Not even a sip. Neither will I, but for different reasons.”
“Do you mind telling me that reason?” Shaye asked, wanting to form a solid opinion on the girl and her intelligence and emotional strength. Assessing the client was the first part of her job. In order to properly do the job, she had to have a clear and correct delivery of the facts. Overly emotional people tended to get dramatic, which often led to embellishment.
“I look normal, right?” Tara said. “But I have a congenital heart defect, so I stay away from alcohol, cigarettes, and too much fast food. I still eat some because who doesn’t love a pizza, but I can’t be like the other students. I’m not supposed to do stuff that’s really strenuous, either. I do thirty minutes of low-impact aerobics every day, but anything more involved and I send my heart rate into the stratosphere, so no cool pranks or ski vacations with college buddies…that sort of thing.”
“I’m very sorry,” Shaye said. “That must be hard to manage.”
Tara shrugged. “I’ve been doing it for so long, I don’t even think about the management part of things anymore. But being different isn’t all that great a thing when you’re in college, you know?”
Shaye nodded. “I know it very well.”
“I bet you do. I keep trying to make it work and I wanted Ethan to as well. Heck, if it wasn’t for me dragging him out of his room, he wouldn’t ever go to a party. He only does it now because I tell him I don’t want to go alone and he feels guilty. That isn’t true, exactly—I don’t have a problem talking to people. Not like Ethan. But I don’t think it’s good for him to spend all his time hiding in his dorm.”
“Probably not,” Shaye said, although she’d been guilty of doing the same thing herself, except in Corrine’s house rather than the dorm.
Tara let out a single choked laugh. “I always tell him he’s got the rest of his life to hide out in some dark, stuffy office.”
“You’re a good friend,” Shaye said. “Ethan’s lucky to have you.”
Tara sniffed. “Thanks. I don’t feel like a very good friend, though. I feel like I ought to be doing something and I can’t seem to.”
“You’re doing the best you can.”
Tara nodded but she didn’t look remotely convinced. Shaye understood exactly how she felt. It was hard to have so much desire to fix something and be completely helpless to do so.
Shaye paused for a second, knowing that her next question was going to hit Tara hard, but she had to ask. “Have you called the hospitals?”
Tara’
s eyes widened. “No. I didn’t even think…oh my God, I’m so stupid.”
“No, you’re not. You’re just worried and this is not a situation you normally deal with. Can you give me a couple minutes to check on that?”
“Sure. Of course. Maybe he got hit by a drunk or something on his way to get a soda. Maybe he’s sitting in the hospital with a broken ankle or something.”
“Maybe,” Shaye said, but she didn’t believe that for a minute. If Ethan were in a hospital with minor injuries, he would have called Tara and told her. The girl hadn’t put that together yet, but she would. Shaye knew that if Ethan was in a hospital, he was either unconscious or dead.
“Can I use your bathroom?” Tara asked.
“Down the hall on the right.”
Shaye waited until Tara had left the room before pulling out her phone and dialing the hospital closest to the university. She claimed to be looking for her missing cousin and gave Ethan’s name and description, but the nurse had no record of Ethan or a John Doe. Shaye repeated the process for the other hospitals in New Orleans, then put her cell phone on her desk.
“He’s not there, is he?” Tara’s voice sounded behind her.
“I’m afraid not,” Shaye said.
“What do I do now? The police don’t believe me and I don’t have any money to pay for someone like you, even if you were available.” She grabbed her backpack off the floor. “I really appreciate you talking to me. I won’t waste any more of your time.”
Shaye jumped up from the chair and grabbed Tara’s arm. “Wait. I’ll help you.”
She hadn’t intended to say the words, but they’d come out anyway. She’d intended to call in a favor with another investigator and pay for it herself, but something about the girl pulled on her so hard, she couldn’t let her walk out that door thinking she had no one. Shaye could find someone else to handle the job, but she couldn’t think of a single person who would handle it the way she would.