by Diane Moody
“Sure thing. But we need to talk about this trip you’re on.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Why didn’t you talk to me first? If you’ve got information about your mother, why didn't you tell me? We could have made this trip together.”
“Dad—” he hesitated. “Dad, I don’t expect you to understand, but I have to do this alone. I’m being careful, I’m not taking any chances, but I’ve got to do this my way.”
Max heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. He could imagine his father running his fingers through his hair like he always did when he was frustrated.
“You aren’t going to believe this, but I think I do understand. As your father, I’m not sure why I understand, but I do. I know I’ve got to learn to let go enough to let you be the man God made you to be. But that’s pretty scary for your old man. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.”
“Yeah? Well, it’s a little scary on this end too.” Max laughed.
“Tell me this. How did you track down where your mother is?”
“Uh, actually I’d rather not say. Just think of it as . . . a miracle. I figure God must’ve wanted me to know, so let’s just leave it at that.”
“Max . . .” his father chided.
“Dad, really. You’ve just got to trust me. You have to accept that I know what I’m doing.”
“If that’s the way it has to be, then that’s the way it has to be. But let’s set some ground rules. I want you to call me twice a day if for no other reason than to give me peace of mind that you’re safe. Three or four times would be even better. But at least twice. Is that acceptable?”
“No problem.”
“And promise me if you get even remotely close to any kind of danger, you’ll call immediately and tell me where you are. That’s non-negotiable.”
“All right, but don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. Just pray this vehicle gets me there. It would cost more than it’s worth just to tow it back home!”
“What vehicle? Aren’t you in your Mustang?”
“I gotta get back on the road, Dad.”
“Ma-ax?” he warned.
“I’m glad we talked. Thanks for being so cool about this. For an old man, you’re okay.”
“Keep in touch, son.”
“Will do. Bye, Dad. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Max.”
CHAPTER 27
Houston, Texas
“It’s this phone you gave us, sir. We got off without the charger and it’s about done.”
Elliot nodded, congratulating himself for correctly guessing which excuse these idiots would use for not checking in. “And it didn’t occur to you over the course of the last three days to stop and buy a charger for it?”
“Well, of course, sir, but we just haven’t been able to track one down as yet.”
“And you expect me to buy that excuse? Are you a complete idiot?”
“Well, nossir, but you have to—”
“SHUT UP!” Elliot screamed at the receiver. His breath came in rapid wheezes as he fought to control his temper.
“Now you listen and you listen good. I should have known I couldn’t trust you two with so simple a task as following a car. Fortunately I have other irons in the fire. And since you’ve obviously lost him again—”
“Oh, nossir!” Gus added. “Who said we lost him? Me ’n Marcus are—”
“Shut up and try to get it right this time.”
“Yes, sir. Whatever you say, Mr. Thomas. We’ll find him for you and—”
“Here’s what I want you to do. Our Mr. Dean is more than likely planning to hide out near a town called Weber Creek.”
“Hey! We saw a sign for Weber Creek!”
“Good. That means you must be close.”
“Uh, well not exactly. I think it was yesterday. Or maybe the day before?”
Elliot took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself. “You will check your GPS and you will find Weber Creek. You will get there before I call again or you will kiss every dime of that reward goodbye.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll be there before you know it, sir. We won’t goof up again, sir. I promise.”
Elliot pinched the bridge of his nose. Morons. Utter and complete morons. But they were closer to Michael than he was at this point. He had to rely on them. He had to motivate them to get to Weber Creek as fast as possible. Against his better judgment, he continued. “And just for the record, the stakes just went up, gentlemen. You find Mr. Dean by this time tomorrow and I’ll personally add $10,000. For each of you.”
He could hear Gus’s voice away from the receiver. “He’s gonna give us $10,000 more each!”
“Only if you find him this time! Lose him again and I’ll have both your heads. You find Michael Dean and you take him captive. We’re going to end this thing.”
Amelia rinsed off her dinner plate and put it in the dishwasher. Grabbing a bottle of wine, she uncorked it and poured the Chardonnay into a glass. She sat on a bar stool at the counter, the thoughts burning through her mind as she tried for the hundredth time to make sense of her husband’s disappearance.
It didn’t matter what her father said, or anyone else for that matter. Amelia knew Michael was not coming back. And she knew without a shadow of a doubt that wherever he was, he was with another woman.
It wasn’t just the wine that warmed her. She could feel the anger surging through her veins. How many times had she endured this pain? How many times had he left without a word? For days at a time, sometimes weeks. How could he care so little for her feelings?
The tears coursed down her face spilling onto the counter. She poured another glass and cursed his name out loud. She drained the glass in mere moments and poured another. The alcohol seared through her body, numbing her mind to the harsh truths.
I’m too good for you, Michael. You’re nothing without me. You’re only a flea along for the ride. If it wasn’t for Daddy, you’d be nothing but a washed-up has-been jock.
“Did you hear that, Michael? You’re worthless! You’re garbage to me and I should have dumped you years ago!” she sobbed. “I HATE you! I HATE YOU!”
She hurled the bottle across the room, shattering it into a thousand pieces all over the kitchen cabinet and floors. Startled by the sound of it, she stopped. Amelia wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, her body still shaking. Smoothing her hair back away from her face, she took a deep ragged breath.
And then the hurt crashed over her again, this time a pain more intense than she’d ever known. She screamed his name again. She threw the near-full glass across the room. The sound of the exploding glass against tile goaded her on. She grabbed the vase of flowers off the counter, hurling them into the sink.
On and on it went, the damage extensive. When at last she found nothing else to throw, she snatched the only bottle that was left. Bourbon. Michael’s precious bourbon.
She slid down onto the floor and opened the bottle, guzzling it. It burned but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything. Not anymore.
She didn’t know how long she sat there on the floor. Her head throbbed. Her throat, raw. Her heart ached despite the effects of the alcohol. Oh, how it ached . . .
Broken glass and shards of crystal covered the tile floor. It was the elegant detail of the cut crystal, now shattered across the floor that first caught her eye.
She sighed, her resignation complete. Then, slowly, very slowly, she stretched out her hand, reaching for a jagged piece of glass.
CHAPTER 28
Seminole, Florida
The ring of the telephone and the chime of the doorbell had become increasingly annoying over the past few days at the McGregor home. They couldn’t let the answering machine handle the calls, fearful they’d miss one of Max or Annie’s calls. They couldn’t take that chance. For now, they would simply have to live with the continuing barrage of calls and well-meaning visitors.
With a growing degree of aggravation, David headed to the entry hall to answer
the doorbell once again. Pete Nardozzi stood on the porch, his uniform cap in his hands.
“Pete, you have no idea how glad I am to see you! In fact, I was just about to call you. Come on in,” David said, patting the officer on the back.
“You were?” Pete replied, bewildered. “Now I really feel like an idiot. I’ve been debating whether to talk to you for a couple of days now, but I didn’t want to invade your privacy, under the circumstances.”
David walked his friend into the study. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re friends. You could never invade my privacy. Fact is, I should have called you days ago. I almost did—when I first found out Annie had left. I was going to make you find her for me. But at the time Mom seemed to think we needed to give Annie her ‘space’ and not chase after her. Now I’m not so sure.”
He quietly closed the door. As both men sat down, Pete began, “Before we continue this conversation, you need to know the only reason I decided to come see you was after a lot of prayer. I couldn’t get this whole situation out of my mind. And since I’m obviously in a position to be of some help, well—here I am.” He smiled sheepishly then looked back down at his hands. “I’m here to offer my help in any way I can.”
“Thanks, Pete. I appreciate that.”
“So you’ve been in contact with her?”
“At first, yes. She left me a note and she’s called a couple of times. But she doesn’t want me to know where she is because she knows I’d be on the next plane. And she’s right. I hate this! The person who means more to me than my own life is out of my reach and I can’t call her, I can’t find her . . .”
David bounced out of his chair, moving nowhere in particular, circling the room. “This one hit me broadside, Pete. Everyday, I help people work through their problems. I pray with them, I visit them in the hospital, I offer counseling . . . all kinds of advice. I’m there for them at the worst moments of their lives. I agonize with them over their heartaches, and I cry with them when they face hopeless situations.
“But now it’s my own wife and I can’t—I can’t ‘fix’ this! Sure, I could send you off to track her down. But it’s the last thing she wants right now. And I don’t know what to do! I’m her husband and she wants me to stay away!”
He fell back into the chair behind his desk, embarrassed by his emotional display. The hot tears stinging his eyes surprised him.
Pete was quiet for several minutes. David felt comfortable in the silence, grateful that his friend would give him the ample time and space to blow off some steam. Finally Pete responded. “David, we’ve been friends a long time. You may be my pastor, but you’re also my friend. And quite frankly, I don’t think you’ve allowed yourself to just be a friend—apart from being a pastor or anything else. So please—don’t be confined by some false need to be the perfect role model or the perfect pastor. Actually, I consider it quite an honor that you call me ‘friend.’ Not deacon, not church member, not any of that. Just friend.”
David didn’t look up, but was keenly aware Pete could see the imperceptible nod of his head. There was a decided difference in the air. A wall had come down and they both knew it.
Pete straightened his back. “Now, I want you to know a few things. When the story hit the papers—”
“Don’t remind me,” he moaned.
“—I took it upon myself to pay a visit to your mother-in-law.”
David looked up. “You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not. Maybe I was out of line, not talking to you first. But I knew the aftermath of that little stunt was going to be huge. I don’t have to tell you, that’s one strange woman.”
They both laughed, the tension easing. “You don’t know the half of it. God’s been really merciful to give me a love for her over the years. But this—”
“Well, once we got passed the theatrics, I was very blunt with her. I pointed out the problems she had created for everyone concerned. Of course, she hadn’t thought about any of that. I also warned her to stay away from the press. She didn’t like that much until she agreed they hadn’t been altogether accurate in their coverage. Said they ‘highly exaggerated’ her comments.” Pete smiled. “And no, I didn’t buy that for a moment.”
“Sounds like you’ve got Darlene pretty well pegged. She is a piece of work, isn’t she?”
“That she is.” Pete’s face turned more serious. “I’ve gotta tell you, I was rather stern with her. Folks can be intimidated by the uniform anyway, so I took advantage of that and let her have it. She went way over line with this, in my opinion.”
“I’m sure you did fine. I wondered why we hadn’t heard from her since all that hit the fan. It’s not like her to be so silent. But trust me, it’s a welcome silence. I’m not complaining.”
Pete leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “David, what can I do for you? How can I help you?”
“You tell me. Annie promised to keep in touch. I haven’t heard from her in three days. And if that wasn’t enough to drive me mad, now Max is gone.”
Pete straightened again. “What?”
“He took off early this morning to find his mother. Not that I blame him. I should have done it as soon as I found her note. But Max is only sixteen!”
“So where is he?”
“He called in about an hour ago. I still don’t know how he found out where Annie might be. Honestly, Pete, I think I’m about to lose my mind. I can’t even think straight anymore. What should I do? What would you do?”
“For starters, I can put out an APB on him, if you’d like. That way we can locate him.”
“I’m not so sure about that. If he gets pulled over, it’s liable to spook him. Then again, I suppose it’s not so unusual for a teenager to get pulled over, is it?”
Pete laughed. “No, it’s not.” He pulled his Blackberry out of his uniform pocket. “I’ll need the year and make of his car as well as the license number.”
“Then we have a problem. He’s not in his car.”
“Whose car does he have?”
“I don’t know. He’s trying to play this whole thing his way. I asked him about it, but he said he didn’t want to involve anyone else or get anyone else in trouble. I guess we could ask a few of his friends.”
“I can do that for you. If you can give me some names of his friends or school mates I can run them down. David, tell me something. Do you have any possible idea where Annie could have gone? Any place you’ve visited before? Maybe the home of a friend or a family member? Any idea at all?”
“I’m clueless. I’ve talked to everyone I can think of where she might have gone. Nothing. No one’s seen her or heard from her. ”
Pete returned the Blackberry to his pocket. He stood, prompting David to head for the door. “David, we’ll work this out. We’ll find them. Give me a little time to make some calls and I’ll get back to you. You have my cell number if you need to reach me.”
David patted him on the back. “Pete, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Look, it’s like I said—I consider it an honor for you to confide in me like this. And I take that level of confidentiality very seriously.” He smiled as he turned to leave. “I mean, what are friends for, right?”
David fought the lump in his throat and grasped Pete’s hand in a firm handshake. “Absolutely.”
CHAPTER 29
Eagle’s Nest
Annie settled Michael back onto the sofa then burrowed into her cocoon at the other end of the sofa. She covered both of them with piles of quilts and blankets. They couldn’t stop shaking.
“One more favor.”
“Michael, I’m not a slave here. Do you mind?”
“Hand me the guitar over there.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“Get it yourself.”
“Very funny.”
She dropped her head against her chest. Throwing back the covers, she hopped on her good foot across the room to the instrument resting in its stand by a wooden stool. “Thi
s is the last favor.”
“Talk is cheap.”
She handed him the guitar, growling at the cold. Once under her blankets again, she wrapped an afghan snugly around her head for warmth and glared at him.
“That’s lovely. You look like one of Tevya’s daughters in Fiddler on the Roof.” He smiled while tuning the acoustic guitar. She noticed a slight grimace, his efforts no doubt painful against the wound in his shoulder.
“Whatever.”
His long fingers worked their magic, patiently finding the perfect pitch of each string. Finally satisfied, he strummed a few chords, humming no melody in particular.
“So help me, if you play—”
He interrupted, breaking into song with Fiddler’s most famous tune.
“I knew it.”
“What have you got against matchmaking?” he teased.
“Nothing. You’re just so predictable.”
“Okay, okay, I couldn’t resist.” He laughed, his fingers dancing across the strings as he played through the pain. She’d forgotten how well he played. She watched him, absorbed in his own little concert. Bits and pieces of old songs drifted through the air. Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven, Emerson Lake & Palmer’s From the Beginning . . . the haunting melodies, a part of every guitarist’s repertoire.
When at last he settled into a quiet ballad, the first notes sent a spontaneous rush through her. The sweet familiar chords of a song once so intoxicating made her dizzy with memories. She closed her eyes, knowing the lyrics that would follow.
James Taylor. Something in the Way She Moves.
Their song.
Annie’s heart fluttered at the caress of his voice, a sound so intimate she could feel the heat crawling across her face.
His serenade continued. James Taylor couldn’t have done it better.
She couldn’t help the smile that tugged her lips as she rocked gently to the rhythm of his concert.
He nudged her with his toe beneath the quilts as the melody continued. “I see that smile.”