How do I know it was You speaking to me? It was probably my own messed up thoughts. I wish it was You, God. I wish there was Someone who knew what to do. Someone who could sort this mess out. Someone I could trust. God, are You real?
At that moment, the sun’s rays blazed through the steely blue dawn sky, splitting it effortlessly into shards of darkness that diminished before her eyes.
From the moment the sun’s light appeared, Isobel felt the warmth washing over her, into her. As the blazing ball inched higher in the sky, the heat of the rays intensified, seeping into her muscles. Raising her arms above her head, she clasped her hands and stretched, leaning left then right. She tucked her feet in underneath herself and rose. The sun had broken the freeze, and she found she could move once more. It was time to go home and set some things in motion.
****
Liam was fast asleep on the couch with Mia draped across his chest. His face was ragged, and he was snoring from the funny angle of his head.
Isobel felt a twinge of guilt for running and leaving him with Mia. She tiptoed through the lounge, praying for no creaks from the floor, to the bookshelf.
It took a bit of hunting. Romeo and Juliet. No. An entire shelf devoted to romance novels—definitely not. National Geographic magazines…
Aaah! There. She pulled a dog-eared leather-bound Bible from the shelf. She knelt on the floor, the book on her lap. Flipping to the concordance at the back, she opened up the index to light. Four columns of light verses. Finding the right one would take the rest of the year. Maybe darkness would be easier? Her heart sank as the musty pages fell open. Just as many. One caught her eye. She riffled back through the book. Reaching John chapter one, her finger traced down to verse five. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
Wow.
A tingle shot down her spine.
There it was, black on white.
Tangible in her hands.
Not just a product of her fertile imagination.
She had to tell Liam. Setting the Bible down on top the bookshelf, she tiptoed over to him.
“Liam, wake up!” she hissed. Nothing. Prodding his arm did nothing. She patted his cheek, and he turned his head towards her hand, breathed deeply, and smiled.
You’ve got to be kidding me!
“Liam!”
His eyes shot open, and he would have sat up and sent Mia flying but for Isobel’s arm across his shoulders. It took all her force to peg him.
“Oh, my neck.” He groaned and tried to move his head. He sat up gingerly, one arm holding Mia tight, the other attempting to rub life back into his stiff spine. He eyed her through one open eye. The man was a mess. “You’re back.”
“I shouldn’t have taken off.”
Mia squirmed in his arms, shifting herself sideways to a more comfortable position. She drew in a deep breath and settled.
“No matter. There’s a lot going on. You want to talk?”
“I think God spoke to me.”
She caught him mid-yawn.
“Actually I know He did.” She couldn’t stop a grin from tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“What?” He was wide-awake now. He pulled himself upright, causing Mia to slide down his chest. She woke with a start and was winding up for a good sob when she saw Bel. She clambered off Liam, nearly falling in her sleep-befuddled state.
“Mine! Mine back!” She launched herself at Bel in delight, pushing her off balance. They landed with a thud that nearly knocked the wind out of Isobel. Mia’s short arms just made it around Bel’s neck and she rained kisses on her face. Isobel was helpless beneath this onslaught. Laughter bubbled through her.
Liam rolled his shoulders and winced as he tried moving his head from side to side. He looked a right wreck.
Seeing him all mussed up and out of sorts turned Bel to jelly. She couldn’t keep the grin off her face, “I should have warned you; these couches are not great for sleeping on.”
“You are actually enjoying this! Good grief, woman. I’ll have to sort you out.”
Bel didn’t answer. Mia was all over her, chattering away like a squirrel on fermented nuts. “Mia, go fetch your soft monkey. He’s upstairs.”
“Onkey?”
“Yes! Go fetch him.”
“OK.”
She toddled off, happy to be on a mission.
My heart on a chopping block, waiting for the knife to fall…
“So what is this about God?”
Isobel brushed the tears off her face and wiped them on her shorts. Beach sand showered off in all directions. More to clean.
“I think I had a conversation with Him. On the beach. It was strange, but not weird-strange. More amazing-strange. If you know what I mean?” Her nose wrinkled as she tried to string the words together in an order that made some sort of sense.
“So what did He say?”
“Firstly, you have to move back home!”
18
Liam faced his consulting room door with all the reluctance of a turkey before Thanksgiving. He was not a happy man. Isobel had been stubborn from the start. Trying to convince her to be careful now that she’d heard from God was nothing short of impossible. Against his every instinct, he was back home. Bel was convinced it was all over, determined to carry on with normal life. The knot in his stomach was one worthy of a boy scout’s badge. How could this possibly end well?
Bel saw no reason to hide any longer. She’d even mentioned adoption.
His key stuck in the lock. He pushed it down as he turned and the lock popped open. Things are easier once one has the knack. He pocketed the key. If only he could get through to Isobel. His gut said the criminal element was still out there.
Mia had slipped through the kidnapper’s clutches once, and he was sure to want her back.
So here he was, powerless to help. Unable to protect Isobel or Mia. A knight stripped of his horse, lance, and shield. With a sigh, he pushed open the door to his rooms.
****
Mia’s juice bottle slipped out of the bag and rolled towards the street. Bel hooked it with her foot and bit back a purple word. She put the bottle back in its pocket and yanked on the zipper to keep it there. Whichever way she pulled the zip, the gaping hole remained gaping. Broken. Just perfect.
It was nearly midday and they hadn’t managed to leave the house yet. Mia had to be changed twice during the morning, once for a porridge slop the size of a small country and the second time for more than half her cup of chocolate milk down her front. She seemed thoroughly intent on wearing her food, a trend that did not sit well with Isobel.
After mopping up oats and milk, Bel had to find a new set of clothes herself. Applying sunblock was a nasty affair that ate up another half an hour. Getting a hat tied onto Mia to protect her fair scalp gobbled some more time. Now, two hours after she’d first tried to walk out the front door, they were both as ready as they’d ever be. And the zip was broken on her bag. There was no way she was going back inside to change bags.
Standing in the blazing sunlight, Isobel didn’t recognise herself. She had spent the last ten years avoiding children of every shape and size. Now here she was, an internet list of the best kid-friendly places to visit in Scottburgh clutched firmly in one hand and the chubby hand of a two-year-old in the other. Bel had asked Melindi to come with them, but she had other plans.
A leisurely stroll to the park, some playing…a cautious shiver of delight crept over Bel. Such a simple thing, yet it had been denied her for so long she’d convinced herself she didn’t want it.
They walked at the pace of Mia’s short legs, chatting about the flowers and sidewalk ants and all the woof-woofs they passed.
Mia’s hand was damp with perspiration and she gripped so tight it pinched, but Isobel relished the feeling.
Halfway to the park, Mia tugged on Bel’s shorts’ leg. “Uppy.” It was not a question, but a command.
“No, Mia. I can’t carry you. Come on. It’s not that far.”
Mia whimpered and gave a pre-tantrum foot stamp. “Uppy!” Her arms stuck in the air, homing missiles aimed at Bel.
She knew Mia well enough to know the signs. Isobel picked her up, cradled her to her chest, trying to distribute the weight as much as possible, and clasped her hands together beneath Mia’s bottom.
By the time they got to the park, Isobel was sure she was red in the face, definitely drenched in sweat, and her arms ached as if she’d caber-tossed a baby elephant.
The park stretched the length of an entire block, filled with enough equipment to keep a small zoo full of monkeys happy. Climbing, swinging, hanging, or falling—this park catered to it all.
The moment they arrived, Mia’s energy returned miraculously. She wriggled out of Bel’s arms and scampered towards the highest slide in the park. Bel caught her just as she was starting to climb.
“Uh-uh! Let’s find something more your size.”
It took some fierce persuading to get Mia to lose interest in the giant slide. A sickly green see-saw balanced on an oversized cement mushroom caught her attention. It was built for tiny bottoms, with extra safety bars to hold in arms that weren’t quite strong enough.
Bel would never fit in the other side, but one foot did the trick and she pumped her leg up and down while Mia shrieked in delight.
It soon lost its charm, and Mia found a sand pit. Relieved to be off see-saw duty, Isobel settled under a nearby tree, enjoying the cool shade. She closed her eyes, revelling in the peace. When she opened them, Mia was gone.
A few heart-stopping seconds later, she saw her at the bottom of the ladder to the tall slide.
“No! Mia!” Bel ran. She was too slow and got to the slide as Mia reached the top. Mia must have realized how high she was. She froze and started sobbing.
Bel didn’t think twice. She climbed the ladder, heart in her throat. Her arms were shaking by the time she got to Mia, and she slipped an arm around her chest as the little girl’s grip failed.
The jolt gave Mia a fright and she started screaming.
“I got you.”
There was no going down the stairs with only one arm to climb with. The only way to go was down the slide. Bel managed to manoeuvre herself and Mia off the steps and onto the slide. It was a simple matter of sliding down now. There was only one problem. Her bum didn’t fit. Bel wiggled to free herself and Mia slipped out of her grip. She slid all the way down as Bel watched in horror, picking up speed as she went. At this rate, she would shoot off the end and break something.
“Mia! No!”
As the scream left Isobel’s throat, a man ran up and caught Mia midair.
Bel stretched out on the slide, turning onto her side. She slipped free and made it to the bottom within seconds of Mia’s rescue.
“I believe this belongs to you?”
She turned to her rescuer and her breath caught in her throat. Eyes of deep hazel caught and held hers. His wispy blonde fringe jutted out from a crew cut that played off a tan that was just the right shade of outdoors. A faint scar ran the length of one cheek, barely visible. He wore his war wounds well. All vaguely familiar. From where?
“Thank you.” She took Mia who stopped crying and buried her face in Bel’s neck.
“No problem. She moves fast.”
“I know! I just closed my eyes for a moment and she bolted. Thank you again. If she’d slipped…”
“Happy to help. Sometimes I’m in the right place at the right time.” He bent down and picked up her purse. “This yours too?”
“Oh, my word, yes!” She felt red infuse her cheeks. “The zip on my bag is broken, I never even realized it had fallen out. Thank you.” She took it and pushed it deep in, towards the bottom of her bag in the hopes that it would stay there. Her fingers sank into something squishy. What?
Mia had deposited her half-eaten chocolate marshmallow egg into Bel’s bag. It was now impaled on Bel’s fingers, webbing sticky underneath her finger nails. Charming.
“Don’t mention it.” A belly laugh danced in his eyes. He kept it in, winked at her, and walked off chuckling.
Licking her fingers, she watched him leave, feeling as if she knew him. No, that wasn’t quite it. More like her knew her. That single thought unsettled her completely.
****
Liam pulled on a pair of sneakers that he should have retired years ago. His toe poked through a hole in the front and the tread was worn clean through in places.
This is how I feel. Worn out. Worn through.
He tugged on a black sweater, black as his mood. The last two weeks had been nothing short of murder. Bel had distanced herself from him completely. She wouldn’t take his calls. He was pretty sure that if they were heading towards each other on the street, she would cross over to avoid him. He could understand, in his head, where she was at. It just didn’t help his heart much.
He cracked eggs into a pan next to three slim rashers of bacon. It also didn’t help that he’d seen her being dropped off at The Studio by some blonde guy. He kept telling himself that he wasn’t jealous. He had no claim on her or Mia. All he knew was that his gut reacted badly to seeing her with that man.
Liam was a man of action, used to being in control. His job required that much of him all the time. His quick action had saved more lives than he cared to keep track of. He turned a sliver of bacon. It sizzled in the pan, and he stepped back to avoid the spatter of hot oil. But now? He could do nothing. Just watch the same real life horror movie play out all over again. It was killing him.
The phone rang. Detective Nass.
“Brigs, how’s our girl? Still safe?”
“Only just. Please tell me you’re ready to step in.”
“No, but we are getting closer. The kids that vanished never made it to the welfare office. Whoever is masterminding this manages to hijack them before any official involvement from the police or Social Services.”
“That’s not good news.” Instead of hunting through a goldfish bowl, they now had to search the sea.
“It’s progress. Keep them both alive and in Scottburgh. I’m working as fast as I can.”
The line went dead. Liam sighed. And he had no idea where the idea came from. One moment he was perplexed—in despair—and the next moment a light had gone on and the seed of a plan began turning in his brain.
Liam turned the heat off on the stove and set the half-cooked food aside. He needed to think this through before morning. If he timed it just right, his plan might work.
****
Bel was humming as she sprinkled sesame seeds over the teriyaki chicken that had just come out of the oven. How long had it been since she felt so light inside?
Mia was in the highchair, feeding herself fish fingers and mash. She’d eaten all her peas first, one at a time, popping them in her mouth with chubby fingers. She’d starting on the mash with a spoon, but decided that her hands worked better, wiping them on her shirt in between every mouthful.
Bel sighed. She had twenty minutes to get herself dressed, and now half of those would be taken up bathing Mia.
“Come on, fairy. Let’s get you clean.”
Mia protested loudly as Bel picked her up out of the high chair. She wasn’t yet finished playing with her mash.
“Not today, Mia. Please.”
Mia started crying and wriggling to get out of Bel’s grip. Bel held on and carried her octopus baby upstairs, arms and legs flailing wildly.
By the time she was clean and dressed, Bel had enough time to throw on a summery shift boasting fuchsias in shades of magenta and turquoise. She ran a brush through her hair and some lip gloss over her lips as the doorbell rang. Her feet slid into coppery slip-ons and then she hurried downstairs, leaving Mia engrossed in an unintelligible conversation between her two sheep slippers.
Isobel swung the door back, suddenly breathless, not sure if it was from the dash downstairs or the man leaning on the porch pillar cradling chrysanthemums and a bottle of red. Bel didn’t drink wine, but she gloss
ed over that small fact, basking in the light of his approving smile.
“These are for you.”
She stood back to usher him in, taking the flowers. Maybe chrysanthemums weren’t just for funerals, after all. She pulled off the extra leaves and then popped the flowers in a vase. She spread them out. Even that pushed her flower arranging skills to the limit.
By the time she carried her arrangement through to the lounge, Roric had switched off the main light and set the lamp to its dimmest.
Isobel swallowed hard, deposited the flowers on the bookshelf, and retreated to the bright kitchen.
Mia was singing loudly upstairs. “Baa-baa back ship, ‘ave oo anyoool…”
Roric came through to the kitchen with the bottle. “Corkscrew?”
Isobel had one from her twenty-first. It had been used for non-alcoholic champagne on that evening and had done a fantastic job of gathering dust since. Since the night she’d been drugged, she couldn’t face anything that removed her from her senses. She dug the corkscrew from the back of the drawer and handed it over.
Wine glasses—now there was a problem.
“These will have to do.” Tall glasses, intended for anything but wine. Isobel felt like a teenager playing at being a big girl.
Roric took them with no comment and was pouring when Mia made her grand entrance.
“Mine, looks!” She rounded the corner with a flourish.
Isobel had left her makeup drawer open, and Mia had helped herself. Thick black eyeliner criss-crossed her face, her nose a solid beak of black. Crimson lipstick covered her forehead in a patch that could pass for a fatal wound. Deep purple eye-shadow circles on each cheek completed the ghoul look. Isobel hung suspended between absolute horror and utter amusement. After a look at Roric’s face, horrified won.
Mia frowned at Roric as if he’d just shot one of her stuffed toys.
It took a full forty-five minutes and a bath ring to get her clean and tucked into bed. By the time Bel came down, the chicken was sulking and half the bottle of wine was in Roric.
Finding Mia Page 10