Places I Never Meant To Go

by Shay Lynam

I nodded. “I think he has everything to do with her disappearance.”

  “We have her laptop,” Jordan added. “We've been trying to figure out the password but we're not having much luck.”

  “Yeah, any ideas?” I asked them.

  Kelly shrugged. “She's never mentioned her password to me. What's the hint?”

  “Thank you,” I replied. “Jordan was saying she's taking french so we tried typing in merci but it didn't work.”

  “Sure she's taking french, but only because she mastered Latin. I'm sure she'll have french down this year and move on to something else next year.”

  “She mastered Latin and she's only twenty three?” Jordan asked then turned to face me. “Dude, how do you feel about that?”

  “Honestly, a little incompetent,” I replied opening Emily's laptop back up on his desk. I sat there for a second. “Anyone know the Latin phrase for 'thank you'?” I looked to Jordan, then Simon and finally Kelly and Savannah. They all shrugged. After a bit, Savannah took out her phone to look it up.

  “Gratias tibi ago,” she said after a few moments.

  I tapped my fingers lightly on the keys. “Uh, you're going to have to spell that for me.”

  I pressed enter and the welcome screen appeared. “Finally,” I whispered feeling my stomach twist into a knot. I hadn't realized how nervous I was.

  The five of us crowded around the laptop as it came to life. When her desktop appeared, I heard a sad sigh escape from Kelly's mouth. A picture of Emily and her two friends had appeared on the screen. I put my hand on the one Kelly was using to lean on the desk.

  “I'll find her,” I said assuring her. “Don't worry.”

  In reality, I was scared that the frightened girl on the surveillance tape was going to be the last time I ever saw her. The only time I ever saw her besides that picture she had sent me. The one of her wearing that hat and purple scarf.

  “So, any suggestions as to what we should be looking for?” I asked skimming over the icons on the desktop.

  “Maybe she was emailing that guy. Check her email,” Simon said.

  I opened her email to find it empty aside from a few spam messages. “Nothing,” I said. “She must have deleted everything recently.”

  “What about the trash bin?” he asked.

  I clicked the trash link. “Empty,” I muttered. “Any other ideas?” Just then, a folder named “Tyler” caught my eye. I clicked it to find all the conversations we had had in email form.

  “She saved all your conversations?” Jordan asked, his eyes scrolling down the screen. “Geez, you guys have been talking for six months?”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “Right around the time my mom got sick.” I clicked the button to make all the messages be put in order putting the most recent messages at the top. “That's weird,” I whispered.

  “What is it?” Savannah asked leaning over my shoulder.

  “The most recent message,” I replied clicking on it.

  Emily,

  I hope you get the chance to read this, though I guess I don't really know how you can what with being missing and all. Maybe you have your laptop or internet access or whatever. Now I'm just rambling. Anyway, I would love to go out to dinner some night. Once all this insanity is over. I know you said when we were talking that you don't really believe in love and... well I guess I said that I don't either but... I don't know, I just want to see what happens. You know? I really want to see where this could go. I just really want to take you out on a proper date. Once I find you and everything. I hope you're okay. Don't worry, Emily. I'm on my way.

  -Tyler

  “I sent this while I was on my way here,” I said leaning back in the chair. “She was already missing by then.”

  Jordan leaned in, squinting at the message. “Well, someone read it.”

  chapter seven.

  That night I laid on my bed in my hotel room and stared up at the ceiling. Even with everything I had learned over the past couple of days, I felt like I was still just as far away from finding Emily as I had been when I started. Even farther away actually. Feeling restless, I rolled over and dug around in the drawer of the night stand next to my desk. I pulled out a notebook and a bible before finding a notepad and a pen. I started making a list of things I already knew. She had gone missing on Saturday. She had been seen getting into a black sedan and headed north. That was what the newspaper article had told me. What was next? Jordan. He had mentioned her meeting with the guy the day before and they got in an argument. The surveillance tape confirmed that as well as him saying “you'll pay for this.” Most importantly, the last email I had sent her the night before I had arrived in Portland had been read. This meant someone was reading her emails. Hopefully, she was the one reading them.

  With that, I rolled to the other side of the bed and grabbed my laptop, unplugging it from the wall so I could have it on my lap. I opened it up and the screen came to life, making my squint at the brightness. I went to my email and opened a new message.

  Emily,

  I hope you've been the one reading my emails. If not, then whoever you are, if you have so much as laid a hand on this girl, I'll go all Liam Neeson in Taken on your butt. If this is Emily, then that threat was definitely not for you. I wouldn't hurt you. Sorry, I'm kind of rambling now.

  I ran my fingers over the keyboard as I thought about what to write next.

  I'm so sorry I haven't found you yet. I promise, I'm trying. I will find you. I will save you. Don't worry.

  -Tyler

  I pressed send then sat there for a few seconds not really sure what else to do. Earlier that day Jordan, Simon, Kelly, Savannah and I had gone through Emily's entire email account searching for any kind of clue as to who the guy on the tape could have been or where he might have taken her. All that work and we still hadn't come up with anything. In a moment of anger, I slammed my laptop shut and got up and out of bed. It was just so frustrating being so clueless. Especially when a person's life is at stake, and extra especially when it's a girl you can't help but care so much about.

  I put on my shoes then my jacket and grabbed my pack of cigarettes and my lighter from the table next to the door. It was time for a walk.

  It was cold and rainy when I got outside. The wind was blowing hard making it feel like I was back in the city. As I lit my cigarette, cupping my hands so the light wouldn't flicker out, I realized I was already missing New York. I missed being able to come home in the worst of moods and find Paul sitting at the table on his laptop or reading the paper like he did every morning and every night. Just talking to him was enough to get me feeling better.

  The two of us had met at college but later on I found out he had lived right here in Portland. My mom told me once that she had moved to Vancouver, just ten miles away, to be with my dad. When she had gotten pregnant, he'd ditched her. She liked to remind me that her parents back in the city had told her to just get rid of me and that there was no point in trying to raise a kid on her own when she couldn't even hold down a job. First my dad, now my grandparents didn't even want me. I suppose I'm lucky that my mom apparently did because she started going to business school while she was still pregnant with me. By the time she graduated, I was two and that's when she decided to move us back to the city. That's when she got her realtor's license and started working for the firm she eventually owned. So, in a roundabout way, I guess it was my fault she turned out the way she did. Good for her. Not so good for me.

  As I walked and thought, I apparently made my way to a bar just a few blocks from the hotel. Seems like I have a sixth sense about these kinds of things. After dropping what was left of my cigarette on the pavement outside, I headed into the bar. Being a Saturday night, the place was pretty busy. The booths were filled up with college kids and the bar itself held a few business men mixed in with some homeless people, spending their day's earnings. A karaoke machine was set up in the corner and some drunk kid in skinny jeans was making out with the microphone to an old Kiss song.

>   I took a seat at an empty booth, leaning my elbows on the table and pushing my palms into my eyes. I could almost hear Andy's annoying voice in my ear telling me about which girl he thought was hottest and running an unsure hand through his newly blonde hair. A chuckle escaped my throat as I remembered seeing his new hairdo the day after I had joked about it. How was it possible that that guy was more successful at work? I hated that I hated my job so much. If I didn't need the money so bad I'd have loved to just walk up to Jameson, not James or Jim and tell him what I really thought of him. I could just picture it.

  I would walk into the office like it was any other day and as soon as Jameson, not James or Jim, sucked in to run his mouth about how I was a slacker, I would cut him off.

  “"I really dislike you,” I would say. “Honestly, it keeps me up at night.” And he would just stare at me with his mouth still hanging open. Then I would walk out of there but only after letting Andy know that his hair looks ridiculous and I will never buy him drinks again.

  “Did you want to order something, honey?”

  I looked up, seeing stars for a bit before they faded out and a blonde waitress's face appeared. “What?”

  “Are you going to drink anything?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I replied shaking my head. After ordering a beer and watching her walk away, I was able to tear my eyes away from her and look around again.

  The skinny kid was still wailing away on that karaoke machine, only now his equally intoxicated friend had joined him. It took me only a few seconds to recognize the two of them and turn around as quickly as possible. Apparently, I was a few seconds to slow.

  “Tyler!” Simon yelled into the microphone causing feedback to blare through the speakers.

  I laid my head down on the table wishing I had chosen a different bar. Simon and Jordan made their way to my table almost taking out the waitress with my beer and flopped down in the booth across from me.

  “What are you doing here, man?” Jordan asked me.

  “I couldn't sleep,” I replied and took a sip of my beer. “What about you two?”

  Simon laughed loudly. “Man, we always come here on Saturday nights. They love us!”

  Judging by the looks on the other people's faces, only Jordan and Simon seemed to be feeling the love. As the waitress came by again, I stopped her and asked her to grab two waters.

  “Dude,” Jordan slurred. “You're no fun.”

  “No fun at all,” Simon added looking around. His eyes settled on a table a few away from ours. He nudged his friend. “Hottie, 2 o' clock,” he said.

  Jordan looked around. “Wait, your 2 o'clock or my 2 o'clock?”

  “Dudes,” I mocked. “Are you guys even old enough to be here?

  Simon narrowed his eyes and leaned back. “I've been old enough for over a year.”

  I looked to Jordan who was already slumped over against the wall, half asleep. A line of drool slid down his chin and landed on his sweatshirt. “What about him?” I asked looking back at Simon.

  He turned his head to look at his almost passed out friend. It seemed like he was trying to think really hard. Then he looked back at me. “Ya know, I'm not really sure.”

  “Yeah, thought so,” I said as the waitress set down two waters in front of them. “Drink that,” I said to Simon. “And wake him up so he can too. We don't need him getting sick.”

  He nodded then dipped his fingers in Jordan's drink and flicked his fingers at the poor kid's face. Jordan jumped up, hitting his knees on the underside of the table. “What gives, man!” he yelled causing more people to look in our direction.

  I rolled my eyes and took another drink of my beer. These two were ridiculous. Though I guess they kind of reminded me of how I was in my college days. Paul and I had the same Friday night class and there just happened to be a bar on the way to our dorm near the campus. Looking at the two hammered kids sitting across from me and miserably sipping at their water, I realized just how similar they were to me and Paul. Just two college kids trying to take care of themselves, finally feeling freedom after being watched over by the, possibly controlling, eyes of their parents. Paul had told me once that his mom was a lawyer and his dad was a sheriff's deputy back in his hometown so his childhood was strict. I secretly wished I had lived his childhood. Sure his parents were strict, but only because they loved him. Mine was just never there.

  A little while later, the waitress came back and asked if we needed anything else. When Simon and Jordan tried to order more drinks, I let them know they were cut off and were drinking water for the rest of the night. The two slumped back in their seats while I asked for another beer.

  “How long have the two of you been here?” I asked them.

  Jordan's cheeks puffed out as he let out air slowly, trying to think. “Like... twenty four songs and thirteen drinks.”

  “You guys like karaoke?”

  Simon's eyes lit up. “Oh yeah!” he exclaimed. “I keep trying to tell Jordan that we need to start a band.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “A karaoke band?”

  “No, no, no.” Simon waved his hands in front of his face. “A real one.”

  “You play?”

  “Well, no, but I could sing. You heard me, right?”

  “Oh yeah,” I replied taking a drink of my new beer. “You're a regular Josh Groban.”

  Jordan lifted his head. “Who's Josh Groban?”

  Half way through my second drink, I decided it was time to get these two out of there. Once they had mentioned suggesting I do a song, I felt like it was time to go. Knowing they would probably just try to come back and harass the people here if I told them to go home, I decided they would be staying with me in my room that night. On the walk home, Jordan found it vital to throw up in two different potted plants while Simon thought he was still at the bar and continued to serenade the two of us with as many overdone boy bands songs as his intoxicated brain could remember. I lit a cigarette and tried to drown the retching and terrible singing out with my thoughts.

  I began to wonder if anyone had read the message I had sent to Emily before leaving my hotel room. What could it mean? Did she have internet access wherever she was? Or was someone snooping around in her business? Like me...

  “Hey, Tyler,” Simon said from behind me.

  I stopped walking and turned around. “Yeah?”

  “I really hope we find Emily,” he said. “I mean, I hoped someone would find her anyway but now I really hope so cuz I know how much she means to you.”

  “Thanks man,” I replied with a small smile. “I hope so too.”

  I hadn't realized how anxious I was to check to see if my message had been read until I found myself fumbling nervously for my room key. When I was finally able to get the door open, Simon and Jordan rushed inside ahead of me. Jordan headed straight for the bathroom and Simon flopped down on the second bed and took out his phone.

  “I really like Kelly,” he slurred. “I think I wanna tell her.”

  “Yeah, that's a really good idea,” I said sitting at the table inside the door and opening Emily's laptop. “Make sure to express your true feelings. Let her know you really care about her.”

  “Oh, I'm going to,” Simon replied with a giggle.

  “And make sure she knows you're drunk.”

  The sound of Jordan emptying his stomach resounded in my ears making me feel a bit sick myself. Trying to ignore it, I typed in Emily's password: Gratias tibi ago, and waited for her desktop to load. As I was waiting, Jordan came stumbling out of the bathroom and fell down onto the bed next to Simon.

  “Thanks for letting us crash here,” he moaned before passing out.

  “Sure thing, buddy,” I muttered then settled in as the screen finished loading. I clicked on her email and couldn't help but gasp a little bit when it said it had been not only read but replied to. I checked the sent folder and clicked on the first message.

  Tyler, I was wondering when you were going to write again...

  My heart b
egan hammering in my chest as I read her words reply to my message.

  Emily isn't really available to respond to your messages but I will relay the words back to her.

  Now my stomach dropped as I realized this hadn't been her writing the message. Someone was in Emily's email responding to me. I went and grabbed my laptop, bringing it back to the table and opening it beside Emily's. I opened up the email and was in the middle of responding to it when I froze. The minimized bar that was Emily's and my IM conversation was flashing orange with a new message. I maximized the screen.

  Emily says: Tyler? Are you there?

  This had only been sent five minutes ago. Maybe it was Emily. Maybe she was still on. Still waiting for me.

  Tyler says: Emily?

  Emily says: Not quite.

  Tyler says: Who is this? where is Emily?

  Emily says: I've been waiting patiently for you to find her but you're just taking way too long. I guess I didn't make it all simple enough for you.

  What was this lunatic talking about?

  Tyler says: You want me to find her?

  Emily says: Well, of course I do. I mean, I've been watching you every step of the way. I would have thought you'd have noticed “the guy on the surveillance tape” following you around.

  That last sentence sent a shiver up my spine. I turned around in my chair to find Jordan and Simon passed out. Simon with his phone still in his hands like he'd fallen asleep mid text. As quietly as I could, I pushed back from the table and went over to the window on the other side of my bed. I looked out into the dark. Since we had gotten back, the wind and rain had picked up and now the tree outside my window was distorting everything past it. A small glow caught my eye down in the parking lot. Because of the rain, I couldn't tell what it was. It could have been someone pulled over to look for directions on their phone. Or it could be the person I was talking to. I rushed back over to the laptop.