Hope for the Best

by Vanessa Lafleur

  “Can I at least . . .” Nick swallowed. “Say goodbye?” He took a few steps back from Galloway, and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Please?”

  “Fine. I can spare one minute,” the detective said. “Be quick.”

  Lareina couldn’t believe he granted Nick’s request, but she didn’t complain as a new plan seeped through her thoughts. Galloway stepped back but continued to watch her closely, and Nick stepped right up to her. They stood there looking at each other for a second before Nick surprised her by pulling her into a hug.

  She lowered her free arm down into her pocket.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I wish we’d have never met.”

  Her fingers brushed souvenirs she’d taken from the last house until she finally clutched the pendant in her hand. Keeping her arm hidden in front of Nick, she raised it out of her pocket. “I know, me too.” Inch by inch, she slipped the pendant into his pocket. She had picked hundreds of pockets without the owners feeling a thing, but the reverse operation proved far more difficult. “You tricked me and I didn’t even see it coming. Well done.” She slid her hand expertly back to her side.

  “Enough,” Galloway ordered. “You’ve had your minute.”

  Nick reluctantly let go of her. Glimpsing his face as he backed away, she decided he never looked so miserable. Fog drifted between them and a forlorn bird cooed loudly from above.

  “Take care of Aaron,” she called over her shoulder as Galloway led her out of the alley. “He needs a doctor right away.”

  Nick didn’t respond, but she knew he heard her. Shock and disbelief blurred her thoughts, and she waited to wake up. It felt so much like the familiar nightmare that haunted her sleep, but Nick had never been part of it.

  With a firm grip on her shoulder, Galloway propelled her forward, through the streets. “Here I thought you were smarter than to believe you had a friend.” He laughed.

  Strangers with wide eyes gawked after them. She watched them whisper to each other and imagined their conversations. “It looks like they caught another one of those criminals.” “I’m glad they caught her.” “I hope she gets what she deserves.” None of the devised dialogue offered her the slightest empathy or pity.

  She stared forward, trying to ignore the detective, disregard any suspicious stares, and avoid panic.

  Chapter 40

  Cold metal burned into Lareina’s wrists as she strained forward, testing the strength of the support beam she’d been handcuffed to. It was sturdy, unlike the rest of the long-forgotten park shelter where she now found herself. A half-collapsed roof surrounded by overgrown trees and brush hid her from any curious passersby, not that she’d seen any people around.

  Galloway had checked the handcuffs twice before he felt confident enough to leave her behind. Initially he didn’t believe a word she said, but when he searched her pockets and didn’t find the pendant, his face flushed bright red, beginning in his cheeks then moving down his neck, creating an unbroken field of crimson. His hand clenched into a tight fist and he slowly brought it up to eye level, holding it there in front of him, but refraining from using it. He couldn’t kill her yet, not until he held the pendant in his hand. She listened to him rant and yell at her, at the trees, and at the sky as she formulated a story.

  “It’s at the ticket booth at the train station,” she told him, dropping her voice to a low whisper of defeat. “I convinced the man inside that it was worth something and he let me trade it for a ticket.”

  “So where’s your ticket then?”

  She let out a long breath. “At Nick’s hotel room with the rest of my stuff. I suppose I won’t be getting any of it back.”

  “Don’t worry. You won’t need it,” he threatened. “I can check your story a lot faster without you, but don’t worry. I’ll come back and you better not have lied to me.”

  Useless trinkets she had stuffed into her pockets at the last house lay scattered on the ground where Galloway had dropped them. A charm bracelet, a single golden earring, a refrigerator magnet painted to look like a slice of watermelon. None of it could help her, but the detective hadn’t bothered to pull everything out of her pockets after determining the pendant wasn’t there. She twisted her hand until she gripped the side of her jacket. Inch by inch she bunched the material together until her fingers wriggled inside of the pocket. Deep in the warm lining she felt something cool and gripped it between two fingers. She pulled the paperclip from her pocket, straightened one side so she could feel the shape of an L, then jammed it into the lock and bent it over to create the key she needed.

  Arching her hand back as far as her wrist would allow, she twisted the paperclip counterclockwise, but her neck wouldn’t allow her head to turn far enough to see her wrists. Birds squawked high above in the trees, flapping from branch to branch, dropping twigs to the ground. Panic stole her steadiness, and her paperclip scraped across the handcuffs.

  Calm down, just calm down, she told herself. You’ve picked millions of locks and you can pick this one too. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. She knew she couldn’t lie to Galloway indefinitely. The fact that he even believed her was lucky on her part and idiotic on his, but he wouldn’t be gone for long, and when he returned he would be out of patience. Her wrist ached from bending the wrong way and the paperclip slipped out from between her fingers, pinging against the concrete under her feet. Frustrated, she kicked the beam with her heel then turned her head so she could see over her shoulder. The improvised key glinted against a clump of encroaching grass just behind her foot.

  Time fluttered on the breeze that hissed through winter brush. The darkening sky and elongating shadows, vanishing behind a quickly rising fog, became ominous reminders of the haste with which the task must be completed. How long would it take Galloway to walk to the train station? Fifteen, twenty minutes? Once he learned the truth, he would be back in half the time.

  Pulling her wrists in tight, she leaned back against the beam, and slowly lowered herself until she sat on the ground. Visualizing the pin’s position, she extended her fingertips as far back as they would reach. Thumbs and index fingers fumbled along the cold concrete until her fingertip grazed smooth metal accentuated by the rough pavement.

  “Come on, almost there,” she whispered, ignoring the strain of muscle and bone as she bent her wrist back farther. “There it is, got it!”

  Lareina rested her head back against weathered wood and contemplated her escape route. Directly in front of her, a few straggly trees competed with the weeds, but they weren’t thick enough to offer a promising hiding place. A lake behind her blocked that route, and wide-open soccer fields to her right offered no cover. With the possibility of hiding looking bleak, she decided her only chance would be to get a head start long before Galloway showed up. Taking a deep breath to steady her hands, she thought her chances of sawing through the beam would be more likely than successfully picking the four locks on the handcuffs.

  Just one more time. Get one hand free and the rest will be easy. Knowing the detective could be back any minute, she grasped the paperclip tight between her fingers, determined not to drop it again. Precious minutes passed as she scraped her pin along the rounded edge of the handcuffs, searching for the keyhole. Once again her hand slipped. “No, come on,” she whispered.

  Frustration led to anger, doubt, mistakes. She knew that, but she couldn’t fight the frustration any longer. She needed someone to blame. There had to be a way to attribute getting caught to Galloway’s luck or Nick’s disloyalty, but every time she thought any deeper than that, she couldn’t avoid the discovery that the catastrophic error belonged to her alone. She made the decision to break the number one rule of surviving as a runaway: don’t trust anyone.

  How could I have been so stupid? The last three months played out in her mind like a movie in fast forward. Every event linked together into decisions she had made, and after all of it Nick had betrayed her. Galloway was right. People like her didn’t have friends, and this was why
. Nick knew how much I wanted to escape. He knew that Galloway would hurt me. I never should have told him the truth. I never should have helped him in the first place.

  Her hand slipped once again, and she screamed at the sky in aggravation. In the silence after, she regretted calling attention to herself. The last thing she needed was for someone worse than Galloway to come along and find her defenseless. Members of The Defiance could be lurking around anywhere and she didn’t want to meet one.

  Leaves crunched under invisible feet. Her muscles stiffened, but she continued her work.

  Crunch, crunch. The footsteps continued and grew louder. Her chest heaved and every instinct screamed at her to run away, but her flight response seemed to forget that she was chained to a beam planted firmly in concrete. Her only option was to sit, vulnerable, and hope she had enough cover that no one would see her. She fought the impulse to yell out. If she said the right words, she might be able to frighten the approaching individual away, but more than likely it would just help him locate her.

  Staring ahead, she desperately tried to solve the lock, the only barrier standing in the way of her freedom. Scanning the tree line, she waited for someone to jump forward, but everything remained still.

  Crunch, crunch, crunch. The footsteps echoed around her. Now she could see someone, just a silhouette in the fog around the lake. He wasn’t tall enough to be Galloway, but that didn’t offer much comfort. At least she knew how to deal with the detective. A stranger would offer far more difficulty and danger.

  “Who’s there?” she shouted, unable to remain silent any longer.

  The figure walked toward her. A few more steps and she recognized the blue jacket and disheveled blond hair.

  “It’s me,” Nick said when he got close enough for her to hear.

  Leaning her head back against the beam, she sighed. Relief then anger swept through her as he strolled over to observe the trouble he had caused. She didn’t need any distractions, especially not Nick.

  “What are you doing here?” She spoke too loudly.

  He didn’t look like much of a threat standing there with his hands in his pockets. “I came to save you.” He smiled as if that would be enough to earn her forgiveness.

  “You came to save me?” She laughed bitterly. “You’re the reason I’m here.” The paperclip found one keyhole and slid inside. She turned it one way then the other and felt a click. Three more to go.

  Nick blinked at her, speechless, as if he hadn’t expected to be met with such hostility. She shook her head and ignored him to focus on picking the next lock. He couldn’t help her anyway—he didn’t have the key, and he had already proven his loyalty to Galloway.

  “I made a mistake believing the detective. I’m sorry,” he pleaded.

  “Go away, Nick. I can save myself.”

  A crunching and snapping of branches, louder than that of Nick’s footsteps, caught their attention. They turned in the direction of the sound, but the wall of fog blocked any visual indication of who approached. Lareina could tell by the heavy bootsteps that had followed her for months that Galloway approached and he was angry. Despite her disgust with the traitor in front of her, she didn’t want to watch Galloway hurt him, or worse.

  “Get out of here Nick, right now. He’s coming back,” she hissed.

  But it was too late and he didn’t even attempt to run. When Galloway stepped out of the gray mist, he didn’t look surprised to see Nick, and it was only a matter of time before the detective discovered his great fortune in finding both pendants on the foolish, trusting boy in front of him.

  “What are you doing here, son?” Galloway asked in a gruff voice.

  “I m-made a mistake and I w-want you to let Lareina go.”

  “That’s not going to happen. You know your little friend here lied to me again. She doesn’t seem capable of telling the truth at all.”

  Nick stood straighter. “You’re the one who lied.”

  She twisted the paper clip. The metal teeth of one cuff slid apart, freeing one wrist.

  Galloway walked up to Nick until they stood only inches apart. “I’m going to give you one minute to walk away from here.”

  “No,” he protested. “I won’t leave without her.” He stood up as straight as he could, but Galloway still towered over him.

  With the detective distracted, she pulled her wrist in front of her and picked the other two locks with ease now that she could see what she was doing.

  “That’s too bad.”

  Lareina spun around in time to see Nick sprawling backward and Galloway reaching for the gun on his belt. Without time to think, she scrambled forward, picked up a thick tree branch, and swung hard, connecting with the back of Galloway’s skull. He staggered forward and collapsed into the grass, clutching a hand to the back of his head.

  “Come on, we have to go now!” She held out a hand. Nick opened his eyes and looked up at her, blinking, and confused. Precious seconds slipped by before he seemed to comprehend.

  He lifted his arm and she pulled him to his feet and away from the detective. Before he had time to protest, the two of them ran hand in hand across the overgrown brush and into the park, putting feet of swirling fog between themselves and Galloway. Nick turned around once but there was nothing to see. Then the louder crunching of boots over dead leaves joined their fleeing sounds, confirming that the detective had only been stunned. Squeezing his hand tighter, she propelled him forward as the first bullet ricocheted off a tree, causing an explosion of bark splinters a foot away from Nick’s head. The next one struck so close that soft soil peppered her legs.

  As they distanced themselves from the lake, the fog thinned a little and she knew Galloway’s shooting would become precise when he could actually see his targets.

  “There, come on,” she whispered and pulled Nick toward a bunch of abandoned playground equipment. They dove beneath a half-collapsed wooden bridge connecting the slide platform to the monkey bars platform. Grass and weeds had grown freely, providing cover. Lareina peeked through the screen of brush while Nick dug his elbows into the ground, trying to flatten himself out of sight. The grass wouldn’t be any protection from a bunch of bullets, so they had to hope Galloway didn’t see where they disappeared.

  “Are you okay?” she whispered close to his ear.

  He jumped, startled by the sound in a silence so absolute they would be able to hear a snowflake land on a blade of grass. “Thanks to you,” he replied when he caught his breath. “How did you get away?”

  “I picked the lock. I’m good at that, remember.”

  He stared at the ground, but she could sense the misery and guilt emanating from him. Her shoulder brushed his and she could feel him shaking, hear his shallow breathing. Holding a hand against his jaw, he stammered, “Do you think he’ll find us?”

  “Based on his past record, I’d say eventually.” She squeezed his hand. “This is why I told you to run.”

  Nick turned his head, one centimeter at a time, until he faced her. “I couldn’t leave you again. I found the pendant you put in my pocket, and I knew you never would have given it up unless your story was true and his was a lie . . .”

  The detective stepped out of the trees, his head roving back and forth frantically. A smile formed across her lips. He couldn’t see them and, with any luck, wouldn’t be able to distinguish their hiding place.

  “Hey Galloway,” a deep voice called out.

  Nick and Lareina spied through the grass, at first unsure where the voice had originated. It didn’t take long, however, for them to spot four men crossing the cracked blacktop to where Galloway stood. The men walked in formation, two in front and the other two directly behind them. They all wore the same gray suit and blue tie. Galloway reached for his gun, but the shortest man, who appeared to be the leader of the group, pulled his out first.

  “Don’t even think about it. Hand over the pendant and we won’t have any trouble,” the man commanded. The other three stood behind him, glaring at G
alloway.

  “I d-don’t have it.” It was the first time she had ever heard fear in the detective’s voice.

  The leader shook his head. “What do you mean, you don’t have it? You told me this was it, you said you had the girl. Are you telling me some teenager has been leading you on a wild goose chase across Texas on the TCI’s money?”

  “Just give me one more day. She’s here, I just had her,” Galloway pleaded.

  Lareina swallowed, but her throat felt dry anyway. She had never seen the four men. All of those months she thought it was only Galloway after the pendant. There were more though, at least four, and from what they said, a whole group of people. TCI. She stifled a shiver that raised the hair on her arms and the back of her neck.

  “We’ve been giving you one more day for almost four months now. We even gave you equipment to find her,” one of the other men accused.

  Galloway put his hands up as if they could protect him from a bullet, and took a few steps back. “You guys have to believe me. She’s here, I can get the pendant.”

  The leader held his gun aimed at Galloway, and the detective continued to back away.

  Nick started to get up but Lareina grabbed his elbow and pulled him back down. “What are you doing?” she hissed. The last thing she needed was for Nick to give away their position and prove Galloway’s theory to the others.

  “We have to do something. They’re going to kill him,” he choked.

  She couldn’t look at Nick. His wide, childlike eyes pleaded with her to do something, but there was nothing to do. His naivete would have gotten him killed long ago if he didn’t have me, she thought.

  “We can’t help him. If we go out there, we’ll die too. Just close your eyes,” she told him and she did the same. In the safety of her fabricated darkness she could hear her heart beating, Nick’s ragged breathing, and the angry voices of Galloway and the other men, which she tried to tune out. She knew what was coming, but everything happened so slowly. It reminded her of a thunderstorm, seeing the lightning and then waiting forever for the thunder because she anticipated it. Expecting thunder to echo across the deserted blacktop any minute, she covered her ears. No one would hear it. No one would witness the murder except for Nick and herself, and they would be powerless to do anything about it.