Finding Mia

by Dianne J Wilson

  After all she’d put him through, he should wake her up and make her talk. But his concern for her ran deeper than any need for answers. So he sat. Studying the soft curves of her face by lamplight, the deeper shadows below her eyes, wanting nothing more than to see her free.

  Jesus, You hold the keys to her freedom. Her answers are in Your hands.

  We need You.

  ****

  Her eyes opened to see Liam sitting in a chair staring at her. Exhaustion fogged her senses and she lay still, wondering if she was still at home in bed and this was part of her dream lingering. The numbness in her back told her otherwise. Liam’s couch was as bad as hers. Consciousness returned slowly, pulling back the curtains sleep had drawn on the events of the night before.

  “What time is it?”

  “Three AM. Three twenty-two AM, to be exact.”

  She pushed herself upright, sure that her hair was a tousled mess. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”

  “Its history, don’t—”

  “Shh! I’m trying to apologize.”

  “There is nothing to apologize for.”

  “I was so rude to you.”

  He scratched his chin and thought for a moment, “You’ve got a point.”

  “Be nice!”

  “Apology accepted. What’s going on?”

  “It happened just as the ladies said it would.” She stopped dead as realisation dawned. She fixed her eyes on him, ready to read every twitch or stutter. “Did you put them up to it?”

  “What?”

  “That intervention or whatever they called it. You were behind that, weren’t you?”

  He brushed off her question as he would a mosquito. “So why are you here?”

  “I panicked. I saw him playing me exactly as the ladies said he would. That was creepy, but I could cope with it. After he’d left, I was desperate to speak to someone. I didn’t think I could come here, so I walked over to Melindi. Before I could knock, I saw two shadows—there were two people in the lounge. I crept closer to see. Liam, it was him. Roric was in Melindi’s house. It was too much for me. I ran home, threw some clothes in a bag, and came straight here.”

  “I didn’t see your car.”

  “I parked down at the shop and walked up. Just to be safe.” She bit her lip. “Liam. Melindi…he’s after her kids. What are we going to do?”

  ****

  Liam checked his watch as he unlatched the gate to Melindi’s property. Five AM. Either way, this was going to be awkward. He slipped up the path in the pre-dawn glow. Moving quickly, he rounded the garage and peered in through the small window. It was a tiny single garage, with Melindi’s car parked inside. Back around to the front, he knocked three times on the door. Feeling conspicuous, he checked all around to make sure he was indeed alone and knocked again. No sound came from inside. He tried the door handle. It swung down easily and the door pulled away from him.

  Unlocked. Not good.

  Liam slipped inside. The entrance hall was swept and in order. He checked the lounge, kitchen—everything in place, nothing strange. Down the passage, he found a bedroom off to the left. Empty. The one on the right, the nursery, was empty too. He kept searching.

  The main bedroom, he assumed, lay behind a closed door at the end of the passage. As a courtesy, he knocked twice but heard nothing and pushed his way inside.

  Melindi lay curled on her side, dressed for a night out, clutching something in her hand. Smudged makeup and tears told tales of a not-so-happy ending. An empty champagne glass lay tipped on the carpet.

  The doctor in him took over. His left hand slipped to her wrist to look for a pulse, his right pried her hand open. Painkillers. The kind he only prescribed after major surgery. The bottle was empty. Not good. Her skin was turning ashen before his eyes. He found a pulse. Too faint. She was fading.

  ****

  “Lim house?”

  “This is Liam’s house, Mia.” She brushed the soft curls away from Mia’s face, still puffy with sleep. This little trouper could sleep anywhere, through anything.

  “Where Lim?”

  Well now, that is the question of the moment, isn’t it just?

  “He’s coming soon.” She’d heard nothing since he left at 5 AM. It was 8 AM and she could no longer fight the growing sense of doom. Unable to sit still and do nothing, she sifted through the ideas that began sprouting in her mind, most of which were either dangerous, impractical, or—in some cases—both.

  Keys jingled in the front door, saving her from her own zeal.

  Liam’s face was grim.

  Mia didn’t notice. She ran to him and jumped.

  He caught her in midair and swung her around before settling her on his hip.

  She tucked her head under his chin, patting his chest happily, singing a song in gobble-de-gook.

  “Melindi overdosed. She’s in the hospital now. They pumped her stomach. She’s going to make it.”

  “What! And her kids?”

  “Bel, there was no one else in the house. I checked.”

  “Maybe they were hiding under the bed or something…”

  Liam shook his head.

  Bel’s legs buckled under her, and she reached for the couch as she felt the blood drain from her face.

  ****

  Mia hit the water and giggled as cold splashes found her face. A chubby finger pointed at the water around where she sat on the stairs. “Pool. Simmin’ pool.”

  Liam sat on the tiles watching her with his feet on the step, water splashing around his ankles.

  Isobel sat on the other side of the child.

  They’d been back and forth for the last hour, neither of them willing to budge. Their argument had outlasted Mia’s breakfast, a game of catch, and was carrying on well into her swim.

  “Why are you being so stubborn about this, Liam? It’s the only way to find Melindi’s kids. I have to go home.”

  “No! Bel, give me some time. There is a better way. Trust me.”

  Mia patted the water, first with her left hand, then with her right. She sang to the rhythm of her smacks, “No, Bel! No, Bel! No! No!”

  He caught Bel’s eye over the top of her head. “You would risk”—he pointed to the little blonde imp who sat oblivious between them—”hmm?”

  “She wouldn’t be at risk because she’d be here with you.”

  “She’s your ticket. Without her, you are of no value to him.”

  “I know.”

  Mia smacked too hard, splashing herself in the eye. She tried to rub, but wet hands made it all worse. With arms sticking out like a starfish, she sat helpless and started crying.

  Bel lifted her out the water and wrapped her in one of Liam’s fluffy turquoise towels. She held her close, patting her dry. “I can’t help thinking—if I were Melindi, I would hope that somebody would do everything within their power to get them back. She can’t right now. By the time she recovers, it will be too late. There is nothing she can do, but we can.” Her gaze dropped to Mia then back to Liam’s in defiance. “I can and I am going to.”

  He held her stare, not looking away but measuring up her courage against the fear he saw in her eyes. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Whatever you say will not change my mind.”

  “Hear me out. I have a friend in the police force. He’s a detective. We’ve been working on the case together.”

  “What? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t they take over from the start?”

  “One of his guys…was involved.”

  “Was?”

  “It’s all sorted now.” Liam bent down to tie his shoe, swallowing his sentence. It wasn’t true. Nass was working on finding the corrupt policeman, but hadn’t yet. Liam felt sick lying to Bel. Knowing how stubborn she was, would she leave if she knew the truth? “So we need to get you and Mia as far away as possible until we’ve landed this guy. I have an aunt in Cape Town. I’m going to book you a flight down to stay with her. It’s the best solution.”

  Bel’
s forehead creased, taking it all in. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Just trying to keep you both safe. As I’m doing now.”

  Bel said nothing and slowly started nodding in agreement. “OK. Cape Town. I’ll go. For Mia’s sake.”

  “Let’s get you packed up and out of here safely. We’ll need some backup.”

  22

  It was the strangest craft class Bel had ever taught in Rochelle’s studio. The ladies all had their magazines in front of them, tearing out pictures that appealed to them for a collage they’d be working on over the next few weeks.

  Rochelle had been delighted but not surprised that Isobel wanted to come back to teach. She happily handed the ladies back without any questions.

  Mia had stayed at Liam’s house with his housekeeper for the morning. Thembi came in three times a week to save him from all things domestic. Thembi was a mom, and Mia had taken to her instantly, grinning at her and calling her Bi. “Thembi” was, after all, such a mouthful.

  The craft ladies welcomed Isobel back with much squealing. None of them mentioned their last parting. They simply eased back into their light-hearted banter. Their reaction to Liam was another matter altogether.

  He sneaked in after Rochelle had left, and his appearance was like Santa coming down the chimney just as the kids decided he didn’t exist and they could eat the jolly old elf’s milk and cookies.

  Isobel didn’t know that it was possible for a bunch of grown woman to look so guilty.

  “When Liam said backup, I didn’t think he meant you lot.” Isobel eyed them all with one eyebrow lifted. “Though apparently, you are all quite creative with your schemes and plans.”

  Mischa shook her head coyly. “The intervention? Oh, honey, that was all Liam. He had it all planned, down to the last…” Her voice trailed off. “Why are you all staring at me?”

  Isobel aimed her eyebrow at Liam, who had the good sense to blush a tiny bit.

  “I just came up with the basic scheme. These ladies added all the finer touches. My part was really minor.”

  “I don’t actually want to know! Let’s bring them up to speed, shall we?”

  Over the next half hour, they plotted and planned.

  “Can you ladies see why Bel and Mia need to be watched over from a distance?” Liam stood up and stretched, easing the kinks out of his back from sitting too long. “We can’t chance Roric suspecting anything and bolting.”

  A chorus of nods and yeses followed.

  Isobel felt hope for the first time since that morning when Liam had walked through his door looking as if he’d been shot.

  Isobel leaned on the table, closer to the ladies. “We’ll need to move quickly. Jules, can you get hold of your friend at the newspaper about Melindi? That is first priority. Whoever is masterminding this, needs to believe that her ‘suicide’ was successful. A short article, no names mentioned, should do the trick. Ben’s and Lilly’s lives depend on it.”

  ****

  Less than twenty-four hours after her escape to Liam’s house, Bel unlocked the door to her home. For all her bravado, faced with the cold reality of being there alone with Mia turned her stomach. Calm down, Bel, you’re only here long enough to pack.

  Liam had been called to the hospital for an emergency delivery. The mom was due in nine weeks time, but had arrived at the hospital haemorrhaging extensively. Liam suspected placental abruption.

  Isobel insisted he see to his patient, waving aside his concern for her and Mia. Now? She was starting to think waiting would have been a better idea.

  Mia ran straight to the basket of toys in the corner of the lounge and began unpacking, humming to herself.

  Bel dumped her bag on the counter and rummaged inside for her mobile. Before leaving Rochelle’s they’d created a group chat for easy communication. She sent two letters—HA—’home alone.’ This tenuous connection to her craft ladies and Liam on the outside world was a lifeline.

  Nothing had changed on the outside, but in truth nothing was the same.

  Melindi was in hospital, fighting for her life.

  Ben and Lilly were missing.

  And here she was with Mia hoping to pack and leave before Roric showed up. She might as well slash her arm and go swimming in shark infested waters. Let’s pretend this is life as usual.

  Before she could pack anything, Mia needed food. It would be good for Isobel to eat something as well.

  Omelettes seemed to be the quickest way of getting some nutrition into both of them. Isobel cracked eggs into a bowl and added milk. She was stirring in a pinch of salt when Mia came running in.

  “Mine! Cum’see! Fowers!”

  “Wait…” She just had time to turn off the stove plate.

  Mia gripped her pants in a death-grip and dragged her out the kitchen all the way to the lounge. In the middle of the coffee table sat a single orchid.

  Bel loved flowers—cheerful daffodils that heralded spring, frank daisies with nothing to hide. Orchids? Just a little bit creepy. How did they get in the house? That was even more disturbing.

  Mia was tapping the flower, watching it sway like a pendulum.

  “Gentle, Mia.” Her correction was out of habit, not concern for the orchid.

  “Peppa!” Mia pulled a note out from between the stem and the leaves.

  “Mia, let me see that.”

  “No.” She was shaking her head, making her blonde hair swing. She clutched her prize to her chest, staring at Bel with wide-eyes. “No, mine.”

  The cogs were turning in Mia’s brain, lighting her eyes with mischief. She held out the paper, snatched it away as Bel reached out, and ran. Her short legs were fast, but not fast enough.

  Isobel caught up and grabbed her around the waist.

  The little girl squirmed trying to get free, giggling and trying to keep her prize to herself.

  On a different day, if the knot in her belly were smaller, Bel would have found the fun. With her ragged emotions kept under such tight control, this was nothing short of the perfect setup for a tantrum. Bel’s heart sank; she ripped the card out of Mia’s hand.

  Mia siren-wailed on cue and the doorbell rang.

  Bel flipped the card open and scanned for the sender.

  The card held only a single, ornate R.

  He’d been in her house.

  She pushed the curtain back slightly—Roric’s car was in the drive. I’m not ready for this. God, I’m not ready for this.

  Mia was on the floor, taking out her displeasure on the carpet.

  Isobel bent down to give her the card, but that window of opportunity had closed. She took the card, only to hurl it across the room and cry louder.

  The doorbell rang again.

  This was not how it was meant to happen.

  Roric in her house, sitting on her couch… the flood of emotion buckled Isobel’s knees.

  Mia’s tantrum was a blessing.

  She hid behind it—justifiably angry and flustered.

  He oozed charm and wisdom, but she knew the truth about him, and it had opened her eyes.

  Once the storm of her temper had blown out, Mia took one look at Roric and retreated inside herself.

  It broke Isobel’s heart. “I’m just going to wash her face.” Isobel picked up Mia and tucked her phone in her pocket on the way out the room. In the bathroom, she let the tap run and took out her phone. She needed her lifeline. RH!

  With that sent, she wiped away Mia’s tears. As her hands moved, her heart spilled through her lips.

  Jesus, please…

  ****

  “Doctor Brigham, the patient in C105 is awake.”

  “Thank you, Sister. Take over for me, please?” He handed her the syringe. “Buttock or thigh—patient’s choice.”

  By the time he got to Melindi, she looked ready to bolt. “What am I doing here? Where are my kids?”

  “Your kids are…Isobel is…taking care of what they need right now.”

  Relieved, Melindi sank back into the pillows
. “That’s good. They love her. I feel awful. What’s going on?”

  “Do you remember anything? It would help us if you did.”

  Melindi went quiet. The heart rate monitor filled the silence with a constant stream of beeps. Slow and steady. Her eyes lost focus, brow furrowed with the effort of remembering.

  Liam checked his watch, his mind going to the rounds that still waited for him before he finished his time. His mobile blipped as a text came through.

  RH!

  This couldn’t be happening. He could do nothing. He punched his palm, willing it to be someone’s face.

  The beeping of the heart rate monitor shot up, double time. Melindi gasped. “It was him.”

  “Who? Melindi, tell me.” Liam spun on his heel, back to her bedside.

  “This guy I’ve been seeing. He gave me a pill. But it wasn’t anything major, just something to help me relax. That’s the last thing I remember. Doctor, what’s going on?”

  He needed to warn Isobel. “Excuse me for a moment.” He left the ward typing a message. Don’t take any pills! He hit send. The phone lost signal and the message didn’t go through. Five times he hit send, and five times it failed. He had to get over there.

  He nearly made it through reception when the call came over the PA system. “Dr. Brigham, please report to casualty. Your immediate assistance is required.”

  He, who never swore, bit back a swear word and sprinted down the familiar passages. Casualty was carnage. A bus full of holiday-makers had lost its brakes and crashed through the street-side carnival. The walls were lined with injured, bleeding people and the promise of more on the way. The emergency medical crew had triaged and brought those in dire need of medical attention first, dealing with the lower grade injuries themselves onsite.

  He paused long enough to type and send a single word.

  Stuck.

  ****

  Isobel sat on the couch next to Roric, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his leg alongside hers. Her hair was up in a ponytail but trailing wispy bits had escaped and hung softly in the curve of her neck.