None of this made any sense. Why not just take Layla that afternoon when he had the chance, rather than Emily?
Kidnapping Emily had been a mistake. And Raymond didn’t make mistakes. Maybe he didn’t have Emily at all.
Raymond. Alive.
Somewhere deep inside, she’d always known. She’d never felt safe. Her heart knew Raymond wasn’t dead. And if he was alive, why was he a free man?
She forced her breathing to slow, but her mind worked overtime. She should call her contact at Witness Protection. But, they’d lied to her. She couldn’t trust them. She couldn’t trust anyone.
The FBI, Homeland Security. They told her Raymond was dead. And now, someone had betrayed her. Someone told Raymond her location.
No, she wouldn’t call Morgan Reed. Even though she certainly hadn’t told Raymond their location, just hours ago she’d refused to help. Morgan acted as if Maria was crazy, soothing her like a child, offering psychological help.
Maria couldn’t trust anybody.
Except…Patti. Surely, Maria could trust her. Patti saved her life and rescued Layla. But Patti claimed she’d seen Raymond shot dead.
Had Patti lied?
Rejecting the idea, Maria shook her head. She couldn’t believe Patti would lie, not after what they’d been through together. The authorities must have lied to Patti, as well. It was the only explanation.
Maria trusted Patti with her life—and with Layla’s. If she could make it to Florida, Patti would keep Layla safe. Then, Maria could come back and tell the authorities about Raymond and Emily. She’d have to bluff him—make him think he was getting Layla, so he wouldn’t hurt Emily—but she definitely couldn’t go to the police until Layla was safe.
Maria walked into the kitchen. Wedging herself between the wall and the refrigerator, she pushed, and then grabbed the backpacks hidden behind it. She’d never quite trusted the fact she and Layla were truly safe. The escape bags were her backup plan. Always packed and ready to go in an instant.
One contained clothes and other necessities for Layla and herself. And the other contained all that remained of her old life—photos, birth certificates; and other valuable papers. She’d refused to get rid of them when she’d entered Witness Protection.
It also contained hope for a new life and money—lots of it. Raymond hadn’t left them destitute—Witness Protection made sure she received the money. She’d cashed the check and hidden the money with the bags.
For a rainy day.
And the rain was about to commence.
She walked back into the living room and stared out the window. Raymond was out there somewhere. If he could find the Flower Bouquet, he could find where she lived. He could be out there right this moment waiting for her to make a run for it.
He would be expecting her to drive away.
All she owned was the flower shop’s van—too obvious.
Raymond was probably sitting in it waiting for them to run.
She had to get a different car, but how? Steal a car? She wouldn’t know how—not that she could bring herself to steal a car. What a ridiculous thought.
She looked at her watch. It wasn’t that late.
Surely, one of her neighbors would still be up. Maybe she could borrow a car. Might as well start with Mrs. Lytle—no, too nosy. She’d try the guy down the hall. She didn’t know his name, but they always said hi when they saw each other.
At the end of the hall, she knocked and waited. Nothing. She knocked again—louder. After a moment, she heard movement, and then the door opened.
“I’m your neighbor down the hall.” She pointed towards her apartment.
“Yeah, I know.” His eyes were red and glassy. The smell of marijuana wafted out.
“I’ve got an emergency and I need to get to the airport, but my van’s not working. I thought maybe I could borrow your car, and then you could take a cab to pick it up tomorrow.” She held out a one hundred dollar bill. “I’ll pay you for the cab ride and the inconvenience.”
The door opened wider. “Make it two and I’ll drive you up myself.”
“My daughter’s going with me and she gets upset around strangers. I need to drive myself.”
“Glad to do it for five.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
He shrugged, pushing his greasy brown hair out of his eyes. “I know, but we wouldn’t want your daughter to get upset, would we?”
She gritted her teeth and smiled. “Fine. Thanks for being such a good neighbor.”
“My car’s in slot 215. Don’t worry about the keys, just lock it up. I’ll give you my spare and take mine with me to get the car.”
She held out her hand for the key.
He held out his hand. “Where’s my money?”
8
Her neighbor parked his car in the underground parking garage. A fortunate break for her. All she had to do now was wake Layla, and they’d be off. She dreaded having to tell her daughter they were leaving their home—again.
She picked up her purse, grabbed her cell phone, and then set it back on the coffee table.
Raymond had the number. He could track her movements. Better to leave it, but he’d said if she didn’t answer the phone, he’d kill Emily.
Guilt pricked at her. She should stay and tell the police about the phone call from Raymond, but she couldn’t risk Layla’s life. Once Layla was safe in Florida, Maria would come back and help. In the meantime, she wouldn’t risk Emily’s life. As much as she hated doing it, she picked up the phone.
She walked into Layla’s bedroom. Her little girl looked so peaceful, so sweet, so beautiful. Maria knew another move in the middle of the night would shatter her peace—maybe for good—but she had no choice.
“Layla, wake up. We have to go.”
Her daughter murmured, but didn’t wake up. Oh, well. No reason to wake her up. She picked her up. As she did Layla’s stuffed giraffe fell out of the bed.
A gift from her father. Layla slept with it every night.
Maria bent down to pick up the giraffe, and then stopped.
Layla needed to forget about her father.
Forget the giraffe…forget the monster.
****
Layla was buckled into the back of the car, still asleep. Their escape bags were in the trunk; it was time to go. Her hand shook as she put the key in the ignition.
If Raymond was watching, he would only see a woman driving away, not a woman and a child. And hopefully, because it was dark and she was in an unfamiliar vehicle, he wouldn’t recognize her. Gone was the docile housewife whom Raymond had tricked, controlled, and manipulated.
In her place was Veronica Minor, a woman who would do anything to keep her daughter safe from monsters like him.
She glanced over her shoulder at her sleeping daughter. Stay asleep, Layla. No reason for the nightmare to start sooner than necessary.
If she could just get out of the parking lot, they’d be safe. She started the car, and then picked up the garage door opener. The parking spaces were empty of people.
She stopped at the closed garage door and lowered her eyelids.
God, I need Your help again. Please keep Layla far from the monster who is her father. Please keep us safe and keep Emily safe. Don’t let him hurt her. In Jesus’s name, amen.
Maria opened her eyes and hit the remote control.
The big door slid open. She drove out of the garage and into the darkness, leaving the protection of her home, but not God’s protection.
He was more than enough.
She drove through the darkened parking lot, thankful for the light thrown from the pole lights. Her gaze flitted from one spot to another, but all was quiet. No one was lurking. But then again, Raymond knew how to hide. He’d kept his real identity a secret from her for years.
She approached the exit and turned left. She held her breath, waiting for another car to follow, her gaze glued to the rearview mirror.
Nothing. No car. No people.
She�
�d done it. She’d gotten away. Her muscles relaxed. She’d escaped—again.
As she drove, she mapped out the next move. She would buy tickets for the next flight out under the names of Veronica and Jasmine Minor. The destination didn’t matter.
If Raymond checked the airlines, he’d find her—or so he’d think.
An hour later, she pulled into the airport, but instead of going to the terminal as originally planned, she stopped at the first car rental place. A glance in the backseat showed Layla was still asleep. Maria stepped out of the car and walked into the building. The place was deserted this time of the night, but the sign boasted it was open twenty-four hours a day.
“Hi.” The rental agent looked up from the computer and smiled.
“I need a rental car.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “Sorta figured that.”
“I suppose you did.” A little flirting couldn’t hurt. She tossed her head and smiled at him.
“I have a little problem. I borrowed a friend’s car to get here. He’s going to pick it up, but I told him it would be in the long-term parking lot. Do you think you could drive it over for me?” She didn’t flutter her eyelashes at him, but came close.
“I suppose I could do it on my break.”
“Promise?” She winked at him.
His cheeks turned rosy pink as he nodded.
She handed him the keys. “Thanks so much. I’ll be sure to stop in and say hi the next time I’m in the area.”
“Promise?”
Feeling ridiculous, she winked. “Promise.” She walked out and pulled out the escape bags, and then opened the back door. She couldn’t carry Layla and the bags. Jostling Layla, she leaned in and whispered. “Come on, sweetie. We gotta go.”
Her daughter’s eyes opened. “Mommy, what…where are we?”
“It’s OK. We gotta go.”
“No, Mommy. I don’t wanna go. I wanna sleep.” Layla pulled away from her, not fully awake.
Maria unbuckled Layla, grabbed her hand and helped her out of the car. “Sorry, sweetie. We have to leave right now.”
Layla whimpered as they walked to the rental. “Mommy. Where are we? What are we doing?”
“I’ll explain it later.”
Little sobs escaped from Layla as they walked to the rental car. Maria steeled her heart against reacting to them.
Once they were in the car and Layla was buckled into the back, Maria drove off. At the highway exit, she turned south.
“Mommy, I don’t understand.” Layla whined from the back seat. “Where are we going? What are you doing?”
She hated telling Layla it was time to move—again. “I know you don’t and I’m sorry for that. But we needed to leave. In a hurry.”
“No. I want to go back. We have to look for Emily.” Her daughter’s voice turned stubborn.
“We did look for Emily, remember?”
“We have to look some more. We have to look until we find her.” Her daughter’s voice rose in pitch and intensity. “I want Emily. I want Daddy.”
Maria hardened her heart. It was the only way to keep the guilt and panic from overwhelming her. It was the only way to keep Layla safe.
More troubles were on the horizon.
“Look, I’m sorry, sweetie, but—”
“Don’t call me sweetie. I hate you. I hate you. You are so mean,” she screamed from the backseat. “I don’t want to go.”
Maria’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t respond.
What could she say? As a mother, she wasn’t that great. It was her job to provide a happy, safe environment. And she wasn’t doing a good job at either one.
9
Conrad walked into the police station in the early hours of the morning. He’d gone home to take a shower and let his dog out. He felt as exhausted as Zink looked.
They’d passed the twelve-hour mark of Emily Most’s abduction. As far as they could deduce, this was a stranger abduction—the worst kind—and there was a shorter window of time to bring the child home safely.
“Hey, Zink. You OK?”
“I’m fine. I wish everybody would stop asking me that.” Her voice was snappish. “We have a job to do. Let’s just stay focused on Emily Most.”
“If you say so.”
“I say so. Stop worrying about me.”
“I’m not worrying.” He handed her coffee and a bag. “I don’t really like you enough to worry about you. No, sirree. Not me.”
“Such a tough guy, aren’t you?” She peeked in the bag and pulled out a croissant. “Bless you.”
“No problem. You should go home and get some rest. You really do look exhausted.”
“Sure. Sounds like a good idea.” She rolled her eyes as she pulled off a piece of the croissant. “I’ll get right on it.”
“Not happening, huh?”
“Not until we find this little girl. Was BowWow happy to see you?” She popped the piece of pastry in her mouth.
“Ecstatic. And the shower made me feel like a new man. You ought to try it.”
After swallowing the bite, she said, “I don’t want to feel like a man—new, or old.”
“Very funny. What’s going on?”
“Every registered sex offender in the county has an alibi. I don’t know what our next move should—”
The door buzzed announcing a visitor. Nick Johns—one of the part-time officers on the Sunberry force. “It’s over.”
Relief flooded through Conrad.
Zink stood up. “They found Emily?”
“No, they didn’t find her, but the state police have taken the lead with the FBI here to support. They informed the chief a little while ago. Told him to get on with taking care of the other stuff in town.”
“He must be fit to be tied,” Conrad said.
“That’s putting it mildly. They showed up at the Mosts’ and told the chief—their turf, not ours. Basically told us to go home and stay out of their way.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. This is our town. We know it and the people better than anyone. I don’t get why everyone is so territorial.” Conrad thought they’d have a day or two before the turf wars started.
“Yeah, why can’t we all just get along?” Zink chimed in.
“You don’t have to tell me. I agree. What a mess. There’s a lot of panic out there.”
“And rightfully so.” Zink stood and stretched. “Ever worked any kidnappings in the big city, Nick?”
“A few, but they were actually custody battles. Stranger abductions are a whole different thing. In parental abd—” Nick stopped and stared at Zink. His dark complexion mottled red. He shrugged. “Well, you know. I don’t have to tell you.”
Conrad stared at the two of them. The look on Zink’s face told him what he needed to know. Time to change the topic. Zink was in no mood to be coddled. He better intervene.
“I know they’re the experts, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be helpful.” Conrad broke the tense silence. “They shouldn’t shut us out of the case.”
Nick stifled a yawn. “And yet they are.”
“I am not going to sit here and pretend she’s not missing and act like it’s just another day in Sunberry,” Zink said. “We have to do something.”
“According to the state police, that’s exactly what we’re supposed to do.” Nick grabbed his time card, slipped it in, and then turned back. “So, I’m going home to bed. My shift’s over.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Zink’s mouth fell open.
“Nope. See you later.” He walked out of the station.
“Close your mouth, Zink.” Conrad told her.
“That man needs to be fired. He’s worthless. We have a missing child and he goes home at the end of his shift.”
“You should talk to the chief about that. He listens to you.”
“He listens to you, too.”
“Not the way he does to you. Back to the case. Any of those predators give you a hinky feeling?”
“They all did.�
�� She shuddered. “So creepy.”
“That’s for sure.”
She tore off another bite of the croissant. After swallowing, she looked at him. “I was thinking.”
“That can’t be good, but go ahead and tell me.” He winked and gave an exaggerated sigh.
“Remember the little girl and her mom we talked with at the flower store?”
“Sure. Jasmine and Veronica Minor.”
“I got the feeling the little girl was hiding something when we were gathering up that bouquet while you talked with her mom. I asked her some questions and she outright avoided answering them.” Zink pointed to the bright colored flowers decorating her desk as if he’d forgotten the interview.
“About Emily?”
“I’m not sure, but I asked where they used to live and things like that. Just making conversation. And she seemed very evasive.”
“How evasive can a first-grader be?”
“I get your point, but something was off. And they were the last people to see Emily. I think we should go back and talk with them again. Then, we can take a second look at the pervs.”
“You aren’t thinking they have something to do with Emily missing, are you?”
“Not really, but…something’s off.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t know anything. The woman’s just trying to raise her daughter alone. It’s got to be tough. She probably told Jasmine not to tell people about their past. No big deal.”
“A little defensive, aren’t you?” Zink arched an eyebrow at him.
“Not at all. I’m just saying it’s probably a waste of time.” He grabbed the keys off his desk. “But let’s go check it out, anyway. It’s not a problem.”
“I didn’t think it would be a problem. I thought you might want to see the mother again. Couldn’t help but notice the way you looked at her.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Zink.”
“Sure you don’t.” She stood, grabbed another croissant and the coffee, and headed out.
****
Maria stared at the ceiling of their motel room. Her mind wouldn’t function. It was as if she was in suspended animation—aware, but not able to move.
Raymond was alive.
The words kept running through her head, over and over like a broken record, along with the haunting sound of his voice and that cruel laugh.
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