by Rowan Hanlon
“What did you do?” Hadley asked her.
“Investment banking,” she said. “Still do it. I basically work in retirement accounts.”
Hadley nodded that she understood.
Sloan turned back to her, eyeing her. “Was your hotel privately owned?” she asked.
“Oh, no,” Hadley said. “It was bought—and renovated—by a big conglomerate years and years ago. We’re what they call a ‘boutique’ hotel.”
“Right,” she replied. “But it’s still with a big conglomerate. As is my job.” She turned to Clara. “And country music? How does that play in? What kind of salesman would be around such different fields? What is the connecting factor?”
Just then, an idea occurred to Hadley and she said out of nowhere, “Advertising.”
They turned to her, staring at her in awe.
“She might be right,” Sloan said. “She might be right.”
“Wow,” Clara said. “But how does that figure in to all this?”
“He could have been an account manager,” Sloan said. “He could have stopped by my work to advertise retirement accounts. Your work,” she said and pointed at Hadley. “To advertise hotels. And Clara?” She turned to her. “Maybe he met your husband and, somehow, met you, too.”
Clara nodded, thinking about it. “Well, he did do radio sessions some, not much, and sometimes I’d go. And… Well, there were always a lot of people around. I wouldn’t have known if he was a salesman or not.”
“But think about it,” Sloan said. “Think about it. You too, Hadley. Think about a conference or a sales pitch going on that you might have been a part of. You said he knew your name. He knew my name, too. He knew where I lived and when I went to the gym. He knew all these things. This isn’t stuff anyone would really know about. These are bland, mundane things that only someone who is interested in abducting someone would even want to know about.”
“Well, you know I saw him at the grocery store the day he took me,” Clara said. “And the police went over the store surveillance footage but couldn’t get a clear picture of him.”
“You saw him?” Hadley asked, her eyes widening.
“I did,” she replied, nodding. “He was there in his black outfit, you know, the hoodie and all that, which was odd because it was summer. I just wish I would have thought something about it at the time. But I didn’t think too much of it. And he was too far away from me to see his face clearly.”
Hadley shuddered. “It’s so creepy, isn’t it? To know he was following us around? That he was that close to us before it happened?”
“It is,” Clara said and gave a visible shudder.
“That’s why we have to get him,” Sloan said adamantly. “Hadley, just try to think of anything you can, okay? Anything at all could help.”
Hadley nodded, then glanced at Clara, who mouthed, “You okay?” She smiled a little at her and nodded. She nodded back and sat back into the couch.
“Try to think about a month or so before you were taken, if you can, if you want to,” Sloan said to her. “If it’s not too hard for you to do it, I mean.”
“I can do it,” Hadley said.
“You sure?” Clara asked.
“I’m sure,” she replied. “I want to help.”
“And you’re feeling okay?” Clara asked with genuine concern.
“I’m fine,” Hadley said. “But you know, sometimes, I do feel so bad for him. Huck, I mean. I was just thinking about that. About how much all this has put him through.”
Clara nodded. “I know what you mean. Everyone around you feels so guilty and… It’s awful and you feel so bad you’re stirring all this up in them and…”
“It sucks,” Sloan said. “It really, really does. But, sorry, but I have to get going soon. If we could… I mean, if we could just get going on it… You know? Sorry if this is too much, Hadley. Do you want to keep going or do you want us to leave?”
“No, I want to keep going,” she said.
“I thought you’d say that,” Sloan said and smiled at her. “So, let’s just think about that time just before said fucker took us, okay? Oh! Hadley, you don’t mind my language, do you? It puts a lot of people off. I can tone it down if you like.”
“Oh, no, of course, not,” Hadley said. “Believe me, I’ve heard worse.”
“I just don’t want to be an asshole or upset you,” Sloan said and smiled at her again. “I mean that, too. I can be a bit abrasive. I guess I picked it up from my father. He cussed all the time, too.”
“It’s fine,” Hadley said. “It’s fine.”
She nodded. “You okay, Clara?” Sloan asked. “Can you think about it, too? A month, maybe two months before it happened. Or a week. It could have been a day.”
“I’m thinking,” Clara said and her brow furrowed. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, Jasper died.”
“Oh, no!” Sloan said. “I am so sorry.”
“I don’t know why it slipped my mind to tell you but that picture of the horse there reminded me,” she said and pointed to an enormous picture of a white horse on the wall.
Hadley glanced at the picture. It was very nice and she really liked it. She turned back to Clara and said, “I’m sorry.”
She nodded sadly. “I am, too,” she said. “But he was an older horse when I got him and… That poor baby had arthritis and… Well, he was old. We made him as comfortable as we could until he passed. The vet told us what to do.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Hadley said and felt bad for her.
“I loved him more than a person sometimes,” Clara said. “He was the best. I’m going to get another horse soon, though. He really helped me once… You know all that. It was good to go out and ride and just clear my mind. He gave me that gift and I am so grateful I had him.” She smiled gently at Hadley. “Do you ride?”
“I don’t,” Hadley replied.
“You should try,” she said, nodding. “We could go riding someday.”
“I might like that,” Hadley said.
“Just say the word,” she replied and winked at her. “When you’re up to it.”
Hadley nodded and smiled a little at her, then realized the shaking had passed. She involuntarily breathed a sigh of relief, thanking God it was over for now. She was about to start thinking of the time just before she was abducted when her phone rang. She glanced at it, over on the dining table.
“You should get that,” Sloan said.
Hadley nodded, got up and went to it. It was Huck. She picked up and said, “Hey.”
“Hey, baby,” he said. “You okay?”
“Doing good,” she said and glanced at Clara and Sloan who were both staring at her with interest.
“Great,” he said. “I’ll be home in a few minutes.”
“That sounds good,” she said and noticed Clara and Sloan were both getting ready to leave. She wanted to call out to them and tell them to wait, but she knew they wouldn’t. “Okay, then,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll see you when you get home.”
“Bye, love,” he said.
“Bye,” she replied and hung up, then turned to Clara and Sloan. “Are you leaving?” she asked.
Clara nodded. “We are. We can meet again, if you like, but we should leave before Huck gets back.”
“Should I tell him you were here?” she asked.
“That’s up to you,” Sloan said and gathered her laptop. She turned to her and smiled. “And if you think of anything, and I mean anything, call me.” She held her hand out. “Give me your phone so I can put my contact information in.”
Hadley handed it over to her and watched as she put her number in. Then she handed it to Clara, who did the same, then handed it back to her. Hadley took it and nodded. “Well, it was nice meeting you two.”
“You too,” Clara said. “We can get together anytime you like. Just call. And, like Sloan said, call for anything.”
“I will,” Hadley said, nodding.
&nbs
p; They walked to the door and Sloan opened it, then turned back to her. “Listen, Hadley, I just want you to know that while we just met, we can be friends and I mean that. We have this common enemy.”
“Yeah, nothing brings people closer together than their hatred of someone,” Clara said a little dryly.
“That’s true,” Hadley replied, nodding to herself.
“Take care,” she said and laid a hand on her arm before walking out the door.
Sloan gave her a nod and said, “We’re staying at the Pelican, you know, in case you want to drop in. It’s cool if you do.”
Hadley nodded then watched as Sloan shut the door quietly on her way out, then went to the window and watched as they crossed the street and got into the car, with Clara taking the wheel. She watched until they pulled out and then stopped at the stop sign at the end of the street, then drove on through.
* * * * *
Huck came home a few minutes later, carrying a bag of food.
“Mmmm,” she said and smiled at him. “It smells good.”
“It was good,” he told her and smiled back. “What have you been up to?”
She paused before she spoke, wondering why she was hesitating to tell him about Sloan and Clara. It’s not that she liked keeping secrets from him, and never had, it’s just that she didn’t want to divulge any information. Also, she sensed he’d make her call the police or something. And he’d want to know every little detail about what had happened. Maybe she’d tell him later when she wasn’t so close to it. So, she just shrugged and said, “Not much. You were only gone an hour or so.”
“True,” he said and took the bag into the kitchen. He started to unpack it when she shook her head and held up her hand. “What is it?” he asked.
“You know what?” she said. “I need to lie down for a minute or two. I just suddenly got tired.” She did this often. There were times when a wave of utter exhaustion would come over her so fast her head would spin. She didn’t know if she’d ever get to the point where what had happened didn’t affect her in some way.
“Sure, okay,” he said. “I’ll just put it in the fridge.”
She nodded and watched as he walked over to the refrigerator and put it in, then she turned to the living room, noticing the beer bottles. Shit! She turned back to Huck and said hurriedly, “Would you mind going into the bedroom and getting my throw? I left it in there for some reason.”
“Sure, no problem,” he said and headed to the bedroom.
Hadley raced over to the beer bottles, gathered them then raced into the kitchen, throwing them into the garbage. She stuffed them down so they weren’t visible and turned around just as Huck came into the living room with the throw.
“Here you go,” he said, then glanced at her curiously.
She turned around to the sink, grabbed a glass and turned on the water, getting a drink. As she drank it, she realized she should just come clean and tell him about Sloan and Clara. But something stopped her.
“I think we should think about going back home,” Huck said out of nowhere.
“What?” she asked and turned around.
“Home,” he said. “Unless, of course, you want to move down here permanently.”
Hadley thought about that and shook her head. “No, I don’t think I do.” She set the glass down and crossed the room over to Huck and took the throw out of his hand. “Give me a few minutes, though, okay?”
He nodded then bent to kiss her cheek, which she allowed again, which pleased him again. She smiled up at him, staring into his eyes and wondered how she could have ever thought he might be the one who’d abducted her. But she knew the reason why. She knew it was because she didn’t trust anyone. But, for some reason, she felt as though she might be beginning to trust again. And she knew it was because of Sloan and Clara.
“And I am so sick of looking at that picture,” he said and pointed to the wall.
Hadley followed his finger to the picture of the white horse in the living room, the one Clara had mentioned. “You don’t like the horse?”
“It’s like his eyes are following me,” Huck said and chuckled.
She stared at the horse’s eyes, getting what he was saying.
“I’m gonna go take a dip in the pool while you nap,” he said and kissed the top of her head before exiting into the bedroom.
She muttered, “Okay,” and continued to stare at the picture of the horse, thinking about Clara, then Sloan. Then she thought about how Clara had said they could go riding sometime and she realized she’d never even been on a horse before. Then she thought of this old, antique oil painting of a spotted horse in the conference room at the hotel. Whenever she was in there, she’d stare at it, thinking about how cool it was, wondering how old that painting was. Just then, an image came at her and came at her strong as the locked memory in her mind burst. She was in the conference room with a few other people that helped run the hotel. They had been listening to a pitch from a sales team.
“And, as you can see,” a pretty young woman said and pointed at a whiteboard, which was covered with facts and figures. “If we do this, we can bring your food costs down by about five percent. And that could be significant.”
Hadley turned to David, the manager of the restaurant. He shrugged and nodded a little at the same time, indicating that he thought it might work.
“I just worry about the quality,” he said to the saleswoman.
“Oh, the quality is top notch,” she relied. She turned to someone in the back of the room and smiled. “Oh, Jeremy, would you tell them a little more about the quality of the food?”
Hadley had turned in her seat and stared at the man, whom she had met just before the meeting began. He was a few years older than her and nice looking. He wasn’t that tall but he was muscular, like he worked out a lot. His hair was blonde, a dirty blonde, his eyes a pale blue. He walked confidently to the front of the room.
Hadley squeezed her eyes shut and remembered her captor, who had turned away from her one day and pulled down his mask, as it was particularly hot in the house that day. He’d overfed the pot belly stove and the place was roasting. He had turned to the side and the light from the bulb had caught his face just right. He had wiped the sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his shirt and then turned to her, his pale blue eyes settling on her. She saw him this one time perfectly. She remembered his eyelashes, low pale they were, how light, how that if someone put mascara on them, they’d be darker and more visible. She remembered thinking how odd it was she’d had that thought, that having those light eyelashes made him human, which, she believed, he wasn’t. Just then he smiled at her; his teeth were perfect, white and straight. She remembered recoiling from him because the smile was not friendly at all. It was sinister and it meant he must have suddenly got an idea to do something else to her.
As her mind went back to that day in the conference room, she could see Jeremy at the front of the room and he was turning to face everyone. His pale blue eyes went directly to Hadley and he smiled, just like her captor had done that day. He smiled, showing everyone his perfect, white teeth. He said, “Hadley, if I may, I want you and your staff to be very comfortable with our services and products. We have the best quality in the industry and we stand behind every item we distribute. We’re not only in restaurants; we’re in vending machines, snack bars, cafeterias, catering and the like. We’re everywhere and a recognized household name. We are Mabry Foods.”
Hadley drew in a breath then blew it out. “It’s not advertising!” she muttered to herself. “It’s a food service! And it’s called Mabry Foods!”
Cold Cases
Clara and Sloan were back at their nice hotel suite sitting quietly watching daytime television. Clara was on the sofa and Sloan was in a chair. They hadn’t spoken for a long time. But it was like this with them. They were so comfortable with each other, and had known each other for so long, they didn’t have to talk if they didn’t want to. Clara really
appreciated this. But then her stomach growled.
“I am getting hungry,” Clara said and glanced at Sloan. “You want to walk somewhere to eat?”
Sloan glanced at her watch and nodded. “It’s a little early for supper, but I could go for a fish taco.”
“That sounds delicious,” Clara said but didn’t get up. “But I feel so lazy right now.”
“It’s the heat,” Sloan said. “It makes you lazy.”
“I love the heat,” Clara said. “But I also love tacos.”
“Everyone loves tacos,” Sloan told her.
“Tacos it is,” she said but still didn’t move. She glanced over at Sloan, thinking about Hadley and said, “Maybe we shouldn’t have come here.”
“Do you think it was a bust?” Sloan asked her.
“I don’t know,” Clara said and stared at the TV. “She really didn’t remember too much, did she?”
“Well, that fucker was diligent about keeping his face hidden,” she said. “God, I hate him so much.”
“Me, too,” Clara said, then glanced at her. “You want to head home tomorrow?”
“I do,” Sloan said. “Do you think we screwed her up or anything?”
“Who? Hadley?” Clara asked, shaking her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, I hope we didn’t.”
“I hope not, too,” Sloan said. “She’s so small. I mean, I’m short, but she’s little.”
“She’s about your size, Sloan,” Clara said.
“Still, she’s small,” Sloan said. “That makes me even madder.”
“Me, too,” Clara said. “God, I just wished she remembered something. But then again, it’s hard. And you’re right. He was very diligent. You know, they never found even a shred of DNA at my crime scene.”
“Mine either,” she said. “Even after I hit him with that hammer. And, you know, I couldn’t have been out of that place for longer than ten minutes and he managed to clean up his mess and escape. How is that possible?”
“I wish I knew,” she said. “Sometimes I think we’re dealing with a phantom.”