“It’s a bit chilly today, alright. My mother has been in there for a week and every time I visit her the place is like a subway at rush hour. I would hate to work there, I hope you don’t burn yourself out too soon. That can happen easily. I know, I used to be a cop. I couldn’t keep it up once I had children. I have a flower shop now, big change that was.”
Megan didn’t know if she could trust this woman or not. She felt sure whoever was responsible for her kidnapping were well organized. If she risked telling anyone about it, even the law, she may end up right back in their clutches again. Deciding to wait until she could get in touch with her parents, Megan listened to the story of the woman’s business venture, trying hard to remain attentive. The heat in the car was making her drowsy but before long they reached the outskirts of the town.
“Where would you like me to drop you off?”
Megan couldn’t think of what to say, she didn’t even know what town she was in. Every town has a bank so that was the first thing she thought of.
“At the bank, please. I’m meeting my friend there,” she said.
“Which one there’s two?”
Panic was starting to set in, after all this was an ex-cop Megan was talking to. It wouldn’t take much to arouse her suspicions.
“Oh my goodness, I’m new in town and I’ve forgotten the name of the bank already,” she said.
The woman mentioned both names and Megan picked one, breathing easy again.
As the car drove off, she waved and crossed the street to stand outside the building.
“Now I need to find the bus station,” she whispered, having decided to put as much distance as she could between herself and the clinic before risking a phone call to her parents.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
At a drug store next to the bus station, Megan bought a hair bleaching kit, a pair of scissors and some make up. She wasn’t taking any chances on being recognized. Returning to the station, she headed for the women’s restrooms, locking herself into the wheelchair access cubicle. She was happy to see that it contained a large washbasin. Taking one last look at her long hair in the mirror, Megan sighed and began to chop it off as neatly as she could - not stopping until it was short and spiked. Bleaching it was much easier but took longer.
When a woman banged impatiently on the door Megan yelled that she was throwing up and couldn’t come out. She still needed to put lots of make up on. When she finally emerged, apologizing profusely, she was met by the angry glares of two women, one of whom was in a wheelchair. The man in the ticket booth said the next bus to Louisville would be leaving in thirty minutes. From there, Megan could get a bus to Chicago. Somehow she would have to let her parents know where she was headed without giving herself away, in case their phones were being monitored.
“I am going to need new clothes, to match my new image,” Megan said to herself.
In the high street a purple and orange neon painted building stood out from all the rest. Megan knew before she even read the sign that it sold vintage clothes. Everything in the shop screamed 2010’s fashion, which back then had replicated the 1970’s. She quickly found an Aztec patterned dress, a pair of black platform boots and a long woollen cardigan. In case of rain she bought a pink mac. A large shiny plastic shoulder bag with a flower print was thrown in for good measure, into which Megan stuffed the nurse’s uniform. The coat wouldn’t fit but she needed to get rid of it.
“You can keep the coat. You might be able to sell it,” Megan said, as she paid for what she was wearing.
“I doubt it,” the sales assistant said, “But my grandmother might like it, if you don’t mind.”
Megan laughed and assured her that she didn’t mind in the least.
When she returned to the bus station, Megan found that the bus to Louisville was already in the bay. As she boarded and had her ticket punched a young man at the back caught her eye. He, too, was dressed in vintage clothes and his hair was coloured a bright, chili pepper red. When he saw Megan his eyes lit up and he gave her a big, friendly smile.
“There’s plenty of room back here, I have the whole row to myself,” he said.
Megan was not surprised that he was alone at the back of the bus, while the rest of it was almost full. She returned his smile as she made her way through the bus and sat down, leaving an empty seat between them.
He introduced himself as Dexter and she told him her name was Amelia. She wasn’t likely to forget her friend’s name, so felt it was the best one to go by. They talked about the town, which Megan had discovered was called Oakhill. She explained that she had only recently moved there. Dexter said he had lived in the area all his life but when he finished college he was moving to California, to stay with his father for a while.
“Are your parents divorced?” asked Megan.
“They sure are. My dad got work there five years ago and we saw less and less of him as time went by, then he met someone else. I have a younger sister who doesn’t want anything to do with him but I think I would like to get to know him again, now that I’m older. My mom is okay with it, in fact she’s the one who suggested I go. My dad seems to be looking forward to spending the time with me. I’m keeping an open mind about it.”
They talked about music and college, Megan steering the conversation away from her personal life as much as possible. She began to relax and enjoy the young man’s company. He said he was going to Indianapolis for a few days to stay with a friend. She told him she was also staying with a friend for a few days, in Chicago.
******
When the woman who had given Megan a lift from the clinic arrived home her husband was watching a baseball game. She sat by his side on the sofa, filling him in on the latest news regarding her mother’s health. During a commercial break some photos of missing teenagers flashed across the screen, as was the custom on their local channel. She stopped speaking and leaned forward.
“What is it, Sherry?” her husband asked.
“I think I gave one of those missing girls a lift on my way home from the hospital. I had better go down the station and check it out. I won’t be long.”
“Once a cop, always a cop,” laughed her husband as she kissed him on the cheek.
At the station Sherry picked out Megan from a group of photos on the notice board. It was one that Grant had given to the police when he reported her missing.
“I dropped her in town. She said she was meeting someone, maybe you should check all the buses leaving the station, in case she’s on one. Now I come to think of it, I’m pretty sure she had a Chicago accent. What about the airports and car rentals?”
“Sherry, go home. I know the procedure, leave it with me,” the officer on duty said.
“Sorry, of course you do. I might run a flower shop but I still think like a cop,” she called back as she left the station.
******
The young couple felt the bus slowing down and stopped talking to look out the window. A police car was parked ahead and Megan saw an officer approach the door. The driver opened it so he could board. He walked slowly towards the back of the bus, scrutinizing each passenger as he went.
“They must be looking for someone,” said Dexter.
“Oh, I think I have something in my eye. Could you have a look for me, please?” Megan had moved into the seat next to the young man.
“I don’t see anything, maybe it’s an eyelash,” he said, his face close to hers.
“I must have gotten it out, I don’t feel it now,” she said.
Megan put her hands each side of his face and drew him even closer.
“I just realized you have very kissable lips. Do you mind if I try them?” she asked.
Before Dexter could say anything, Megan was kissing him. He responded by putting his arms around her, which allowed her to move in even closer, never once taking her lips from his.
“Ahem,” coughed the officer as he stood looking down, waiting for them to break apart.
“Sorry,” said Dexter, straig
htening up and wiping bright orange lipstick from his mouth. “We kinda got carried away.”
A photo was held out for them to look at and Megan’s heart skipped a beat as she found herself staring at her own image.
“Have either of you seen this young Chicago woman? She was spotted in the locality today. Her family are very worried about her.”
“No, officer, I can’t say I have. What about you?” Dexter turned to Megan.
She shook her head, afraid to speak in case her accent gave her away.
“Well, I had better let you two get back to what you were doing. Just mind you don’t get carried away while you’re on public transport,” the officer laughed.
When they were alone once more, Dexter turned to Megan, a puzzled look on his face.
“What was all that about? He was only showing us a photo of a missing teenager. You seem petrified. You’re not in some sort of trouble, are you?”
“No, of course not. I don’t know what came over me. You do have nice lips, though,” Megan smiled mischievously, relieved he hadn’t recognized her in the photo.
“Hey, do you have a phone on you? I lost mine and haven’t replaced it yet,” she said.
“Sure, here it is, you can use it if you want to.”
“I just want to send a text, if that’s okay. I need to let my friend know where to meet me,” said Megan.
“I would never remember any of the numbers on my phone like that. You must have some memory,” Dexter said, impressed.
“My mother insisted I learn off some numbers because I have lost my phone so many times. My memory is probably worse than yours.” Megan felt good telling Dexter something that was actually true.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Wolf ran into the house, looking for Jake. He found him in the study with Grant and Lloyd. They had all been warned by Duke to be careful what they said indoors. He had found bugs planted in all the buildings on the ranch, even the garage. Not being sure who was monitoring them, it was agreed that any information regarding Megan or her grandfather should be kept among themselves. Jake would decide if and when the police should be told, as he was not sure how deeply the Alliance had infiltrated the CIA and FBI.
“I got a message from Duke. He says none of you are answering your calls,” Wolf said, holding up his phone and gesturing for the men to follow him outside.
As they walked along behind him, each one took out his phone to check it. Wolf continued to walk towards the paddock, far enough away from the house for them to discuss something very important.
“It wasn’t a message from Duke. That was just an excuse to get you all out here. Megan sent me this text. I don’t recognize the number and she never used her name but I know it’s her,” said Wolf.
“Read what is says, then we’ll get Duke up to the house and show him,” Jake said.
“She started by asking about her Egyptian friend, who likes long walks. She said she just ate some fried chicken at Louis and Frank’s place and that she’s on her way to see her aunt Carmel, before heading home. I haven’t a clue what it means but I know it’s from Megan. The Egyptian friend is her horse, Pharaoh, isn’t it?” Wolf said.
“She doesn’t have an aunt by that name,” Grant desperately wanted to believe it was his daughter.
“If it is her, then she is trying to give us clues as to her whereabouts. Wolf, will you run into the study and see if you can find a map of North America. Don’t mention this to Lydia or Estelle just yet. It would be wrong to raise their hopes until we know more,” Jake said as he contacted Duke.
As he went over the text in his head it dawned on Grant what the reference to fried chicken was.
“Look in Kentucky, Megan is practically vegetarian, she rarely eats meat,” he said, his heart beginning to race.
Wolf returned with a large map, which they spread across the paddock fence.
“There’s Louisville,” Jake pointed, “And Frankfort is nearby. Who did she say she was on her way to?”
Wolf read the text on his phone again.
“Her aunt Carmel,” he said.
“Bingo,” Jake stabbed the map with his finger. “Good girl, Megan. She’s on her way home to Chicago. Look, her route will bring her through Indianapolis and the nearby town of Carmel.”
The detective clapped Grant on the back and told him he had a very clever daughter. Grant was in shock, partly because he was now convinced that it really was Megan who sent the text.
“I can’t believe she would know the locations of those towns. Geography was always one of her worst subjects in school. Do you remember how Amelia used to come over and help her when they had exams, Lloyd?”
“I hate to break it to you but she probably used an online map of the area to find the names in the first place. I think she has managed to escape from whoever had her. She doesn’t say anything about her grandfather, though. He may be with her but my gut tells me she’s alone,” said Jake.
“Can I text her back, or would that be a bad idea?” asked Wolf.
Jake had another look at the map before answering. He was trying to find a way of giving Megan a clue as to where they could meet up with her.
“Let’s see if we can reply to her text in a way that won’t arouse suspicion. We don’t know if she still has the phone, or who it belongs to,” he said.
Eventually, between them they came up with a message they were sure Megan would understand. While waiting for a reply, Jake organized some flights to Chicago. Lydia and Estelle had joined them and were given the news.
“I’m going with you, Grant. I need to be there when you find her.”
“Of course you can. Is it okay if Lydia comes, too?” he asked Jake.
The detective looked at Megan’s parents and smiled.
“I’ve already organized seats for both of you. The plane takes off two hours from now, so you need to get packed.”
Wolf stepped forward, facing Grant and Lydia.
“I’m coming, too. Don’t try to stop me, I can get there on my own anyhow. I know every inch of the city. I slept on its streets for three years and if we need to hide Megan I could come in useful,” he said, a determined look on his face.
The next flights Jake booked were for himself, Duke and Wolf.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
While they waited at the station in Louisville for the Chicago bus to come in, Dexter and Megan bought some food for the long journey ahead. Being first in the queue, they once again managed to keep the back row of the bus to themselves. Facing each other, they stretched their legs across the empty seats between them.
Dexter’s phone signalled a message coming in and he looked at the text. Confused at first by what it said, he soon realized who it was meant for.
“I think this is a reply for you,” he said, handing the phone across to Megan.
“Oh, thanks. That will be my friend arranging to meet up with me. Do you mind if I send one back?”
“Go ahead, I’m not waiting on any important calls anyway,” he said, turning to look out the window.
Megan read the message and smiled, she knew the place Wolf was talking about. The last time he had been at the ranch she told him the most daring thing she had ever done was with Amelia, when they were thirteen years old. They were supposed to go to a class-mate’s house but Amelia had fallen out with the girl in school, earlier that day. They cancelled the visit but didn’t tell their parents. Instead, both of them caught a bus as far as the terminal in Chicago.
Feeling very independent and grown up, they sat at a table on the sidewalk, drinking coffee and people watching. It was on the corner of West Munroe Street, not far from the bus station. A sleazy looking man moved to the table beside them, asking where they were from and if they needed a lift anywhere. They pretended that Megan’s father worked down the street and was waiting for them. Standing up quickly, the girls said goodbye to the stranger and hurried back towards the station. They laughed all the way home and made a pact never to tell anyone what th
ey had done. Megan was glad she let Wolf in on that secret.
He had remembered the story. The text said that he would have a coffee waiting for her in the place where rebellious thirteen year olds were known to meet up. Megan smiled as she read it and replied with the words, “Can’t wait to see you,” so that Wolf would know she understood.
“Thanks again for letting me use your phone, Dexter,” she said.
Megan deleted her messages before handing it back.
“Was that your boyfriend?” asked Dexter.
“Oh no, we’re just friends. I would never have kissed you if we were more than that.”
“So how about you and I keep in touch? I can give you my number,” he said.
“Sure, write it down for me, maybe we can meet up for a coffee when I get back to Oakhill.”
Megan felt bad deceiving him and tried to make up for it with a friendly smile. As the conversation between them slowed down, she felt her eyelids getting heavy with every passing mile.
Dexter shook Megan awake as the bus came into Indianapolis.
“I’m sorry to disturb your sleep but I wanted to say goodbye before I got off,” he said.
She leaned over and kissed his cheek, telling him how nice it was getting to know him on the journey.
“And thanks for letting me use your phone. You don’t realise the importance of those texts that I sent,” she said.
Dexter smiled, saying how much he had enjoyed her company.
“It really shortened the journey having a traveling companion. It won’t be too long now before you are in Chicago. Have a good time there and I hope we meet up again soon,” he said.
Megan looked around the bus and noted that only a handful remained. However, there was quite a long queue outside waiting to get on. She doubted she would have the back row to herself for the last part of her journey. Dexter tapped at the window as he went past and she blew him a kiss.
Leaning her head against the glass, Megan pulled her cardigan around her, the open door allowing a cold draft to blow through the bus. A young couple sat in beside her, totally ignoring her smile, eyes only for each other. It made her think of Wolf and she felt butterflies in her stomach at the prospect of seeing him soon. Closing her eyes, Megan tried to picture the scene. It would be quite dark when she arrived at their meeting place, so he would probably be inside, watching out for her through the window. She felt sure Wolf would get there early and wondered if he would recognize her. It wasn’t long before the hum of the engine lulled her to sleep.
Finding 02 Finding Megan Page 11