She's Not Coming Home

by Philip Cox

  ‘Mom, I’m coming back now. Tell me all this when I get back. I’ll be as quick as I can. In the meantime, call the police.’

  ‘I will. How long do you think you’ll be?’

  ‘Five, maybe six hours. I’ll be as quick as I can.’

  ‘Drive safely, Matt.’

  ‘I will.’

  Four hours and one very brief comfort stop later, the Toyota’s wheels squealed as the car leapt over the Sagamore Bridge. Five minutes later, he sounded the horn outside his parents’ house. His father was out front, and opened the gate for him to drive in. His face was lined with worry.

  ‘Matt, I don’t -’ he said as Matt leapt out of the car.

  ‘It’s okay; where’s Mom?’

  ‘She – she’s in the house.’

  Matt ran up the driveway and met his mother on the porch. She held out her arms and hugged him. Her eyes were red.

  ‘Matt, I’m so sorry. I -’

  ‘It’s okay, Mom.’ He sat her down in the porch. His father joined them. ‘Is there any more news?’ he asked them.

  His father shook his head and opened his mouth to speak but his mother answered first.

  ‘No. We called the police. Glen Miller, the Sheriff, has been over. He took a description and said he would drive around and get back to us. We’ve heard nothing yet. Old Harry Dobbs took your father round also in his station wagon -’

  ‘Nothing. No sightings,’ said his father.

  ‘I stayed here, just in case he wandered off and found his way back.’ She sniffed again, and blew her nose. Matt nodded and rested his hand on her arm.

  He looked up at his father. ‘Have you tried the neighbours?’

  ‘The two this side,’ – his father nodded over to the right – ‘are away on vacation. They left us a key in case of emergencies. I went in and had a look around, in the house and in the yard and garage. No sign there. The two – the two guys the other side are in, and they looked round their place as well.’

  ‘And here?’ Matt asked. ‘You’ve checked both floors, the attic, the basement?’

  His father nodded. ‘All the closets and rooms. And the garage and den.’

  Matt stood up. ‘Come with me as I drive around,’ he said to his father.

  ‘Right you are,’ Matthew Senior said, and followed his son down the steps to the Toyota.

  ‘I’ll have my cell phone right here,’ he called out to his mother as he climbed into the car. ‘Call me if anything…you know.’

  Estelle swallowed and wiped her nose. She nodded and stood up as Matt reversed onto the street.

  ‘What was he wearing?’ Matt asked as they headed towards town.

  ‘A - a grey overcoat with a hood.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Matt grimly. ‘I know the one.’

  Matt drove slowly along Route 6A, continually checking his side of the road. His father checked the other. Normally Matt hated driving with his father, as he would always remind Matt how long he had been driving, and point out the things Matt was doing wrong: going too fast, going too slow, too near the centre line, watch out for the truck fifty feet ahead. This time he was silent, a sure sign how worried he was.

  ‘I’ll go as far as Main Street,’ Matt said. ‘No way could he have gotten even that far. Then I’ll do the same in the other direction.’

  In town, he turned right onto Liberty Street, right again onto Main, then took Tupper Road back up to the 6A. As they approached his parents’ house, they saw a police car parked outside. His mother was talking to a figure in uniform.

  ‘That’s Glen, the sheriff,’ said his father.

  ‘Glen Miller?’ asked Matt.

  ‘U-huh.’ Any other time, his father would have cracked a joke.

  As Matt drew up, the sheriff’s car pulled away. He wound down the window. ‘Any news?’ he asked his mother.

  Arms folded, she shook her head. ‘He said there’ve been no sightings. His department are continuing to look, and it’s been reported to the State Police Missing Persons -’

  ‘Missing Persons Unit,’ Matt finished her sentence. ‘Seems I know the drill. Look, we’re going to take a ride in the other direction.’

  ‘Okay,’ she mouthed, and shivered.

  Matt released the brake and pulled away. As he waited to cross the eastbound lane, a bright red SUV turned into the next door driveway. The driver waved and stopped.

  ‘That’s Jerry Looper,’ Matthew Senior muttered. ‘One of the – the guys next door.’

  Jerry wound down his window. ‘What’s going on, Matt?’ he asked Matthew Senior. ‘I saw all the police here just now.’

  Senior looked over at his son, then back to Jerry. ‘You were out when I called earlier. Marty checked the house for me. Nathan, our grandson, Matt’s boy,’ - he indicated over to Matt – ‘has gone missing. Has been gone – well, almost six hours.’

  ‘Damn,’ said Jerry. ‘I saw him around that time ago.’

  Matt got out of the car and spoke to Jerry over the Toyota roof. ‘When? Where?’

  ‘He was talking to a woman -’

  ‘A woman? What did she look like?’

  ‘I don’t know – thirties, tallish, I guess. Black hair, long, I think. The boy seemed to know her well.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Well, they were talking a lot out here. She was playing with that big blow-up thing he had. A dinosaur, was it? Then he got into the car with her. Dinosaur as well.’

  ‘What was the car?’

  ‘It was like this – a Chrysler. A convertible. May have been a Crossfire. Silver.’

  Matt slammed his fist down on the Toyota roof. ‘I knew it! The fucking bitch!’

  ‘Matt – what is it?’ his mother asked as she approached.

  Matt leaned in the car. ‘Dad, get out. I have to go.’

  ‘What do you mean? To go where?’

  ‘To get my son back. I know whose car that is.’

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The previous night, Ryan Wilson manoeuvred the metallic blue Audi R8 GT Spyder off the Interstate and onto the final leg of the journey home. Even for a mid-week night, the traffic was lighter than normal, and the journey from his workplace at Logan had taken just under an hour. If only it had been like that last Friday, he reflected: at the end of the week, it had for some time been his and Gail’s tradition to unwind with a candlelit meal at home, plenty of wine, both at the table and in bed where they would finish the bottle watching a movie. It was their practice to alternate whose choice of movie they watched; the first week Gail would choose a romcom maybe, or some kind of chick flick, the next week Ryan would choose. Then the night would become less restful: it was not uncommon for their session to last past three o’clock Saturday morning. Last Friday was different. Last Friday it was Ryan’s turn to choose the movie. He was a fan of classic black and white movies, and that week they watched The Third Man. Not Gail’s type of picture; in fact during the scene where Harry Lime played by Orson Welles is hiding from Joseph Cotten’s Holly Martin and his hiding place is given away by Lime’s cat, Ryan nudged Gail to watch the image of the cat nudging Lime’s shoe. Getting no response, he looked down and saw Gail flat on her back sound asleep. He completed the rest of the movie alone, and then fell asleep himself.

  Still watching the road ahead, he reached down to the front passenger seat and felt the package he had left on the seat. He smiled; even though it was not a Friday, they could still make up for last week. He was away for the weekend on a fishing trip to Pigeon Cove, and they both worked late Monday and Tuesday, with an early start the next morning. Not so tonight.

  He looked up at their building as he pulled into the lot. The light was on in one of their apartment windows. Fantastic: Gail said she might be home first. Ready, waiting and willing. He locked the car, walked across the lot in a dignified manner, then, package in hand, ran up the stairs to their apartment.

  *****

  Gail was standing with her back to the door and swung round when it opened. ‘So th
ere you are,’ she said. ‘I thought you’d forgotten.’

  ‘You thought I’d forgotten?’ he replied.

  He took off his coat and dropped it and the package on a chair. He walked over to Gail. She was wearing a cream dress. Coming to just below her knees, it accentuated every curve on her body. The colour showed up the rich tan on her legs and arms. He liked this: he was not sure whether it was natural, still showing six weeks after the last vacation; or artificial, spray or otherwise. Either way, he didn’t care. He stepped over to her and put his arms around her narrow waist.

  ‘Thought I’d forgotten?’ he repeated. ‘What do you think?’ he added as his mouth brushed against hers.

  She put her arms around his neck and opened her mouth slightly. Their lips, and then their tongues fought. He lowered his hands down to her behind and held it tightly, pulling her closer to him. Through his clothes she could feel him ready for her.

  He reached further down and lifted her dress up. Gail gasped and began to nuzzle his face and chin as he felt for the elastic of her panties.

  ‘Wait a second, buster,’ she said, pulling away slightly. His hands returned to her back, letting the dress drop back into place.

  ‘What’s in there?’ she asked, looking over at the package he dropped onto the chair.

  He laughed, let her go, and reached over to the chair. Picked up the brown grocery bag and pulled out the contents.

  Gail grinned and licked her lips as he pulled out a set of handcuffs, covered in black fur.

  *****

  It was much later that evening. Both fully spent and dripping with sweat, they collapsed onto the bed. Gail sat up and ran both hands through her black hair, clearing it from her face.

  He turned onto his back and ran a hand over his sweaty chest.

  ‘Man,’ he exclaimed, reaching over to the cigarette pack and lighter by the side of the bed. He lit up and offered one to Gail. Lit hers with the end of his.

  Gail moved her head around as she reached up to massage her own neck.

  ‘You okay baby?’ he asked, reaching up and stroking her back.

  She nodded, took a drag and rested the cigarette on the ashtray her side of the bed. Sat there a second or two, then swung over so she was sitting astride him.

  ‘But next time,’ she purred, leaning forward, ‘you can wear these.’ She shook the handcuffs which were still connected to the bed frame.

  He nodded and laughed.

  ‘Now,’ she said as she climbed off him, ‘the first thing we need is a towel.’ She walked into the bathroom and picked up two hand towels. Threw one at him, and then walked naked out into the living room. He rubbed himself with the towel and then lay back again, looking up at the ceiling. Then he could hear Gail shout out from the living room.

  He sat up and called out, ‘What is it?’

  She returned to the bedroom holding her cell phone. ‘Goddam it. How could I be so...?’

  ‘Be so what?’

  She sat down on the bed, staring at the phone.

  ‘I’d forgotten; I’d put my cell onto silent.’

  He sat up a bit more. ‘Yeah; so what?’

  Gail looked over at him, holding her phone out to him.

  ‘I’ve just checked my messages. Ryan called earlier. From home, asking where the hell I was. I’d forgotten we’d arranged to both get home early tonight, for a meal together.’

  She tossed the phone onto the bed. She stared down at the bed, breathing heavily, trying to control her emotions.

  Danny Clark leaned back against the bed, a serious expression on his face.

  Chapter Forty

  Matt angrily sounded his horn at the driver of the Wal-Mart rig as it finally switched lanes, allowing him to pass. The driver reciprocated by flashing his headlamps as Matt’s Toyota disappeared into the distance. Now he was a mile past Braintree, as the Pilgrim’s Highway merged into the I-93.

  The Interstate traffic was heavier than that on the highway up from the Cape, and it became more difficult to overtake. It was made worse by the fact that he was now in the middle of Friday night rush hour, it was dark, and beginning to rain heavily.

  Matt swore as he noticed the fuel gauge: the dial was half way between a quarter full and empty. He knew there was a gas station a little further up, just after the Neponset Avenue Bridge. Once he had filled up again and bought himself a candy bar and energy drink, he returned to the Expressway and headed back north. He was looking forward to being home, and sleeping in his own bed, but his first priority was to get hold of Nathan again. No, his destination was Medford, and Gail Smith’s home. As soon as his parents’ neighbour had said he saw Nathan get into a silver convertible, he knew where Nathan was and who had him. It all fitted into place: whatever Ruth was up to, Gail was involved as well. She must know where Ruth was. And that would explain why when they had spoken over the last couple of weeks, she never began the conversation with asking if there was any news about Ruth, as a concerned friend would do. Because she already knew! When she finally did ask, it was always as an afterthought. And Matt would take book on the fact that it was Gail who took the spare set of keys when she went up to the bathroom. And that proved that she and Ruth were in collusion; how else would she have known they keys were there? First, Ruth wanted the car keys, now she wanted their son. ‘Over my dead body,’ he muttered as he grasped the steering wheel harder and pressed his foot down harder on the gas pedal.

  He had to brake sharply, skidding slightly; the traffic ahead had slowed down. He craned his head up to see what was the cause of the delay, but it seemed to be only volume of traffic and the rain. Irritated, he drummed his fingers on the wheel as he had to slow down to about twenty. After five minutes, the traffic speeded up again.

  For the rest of the journey, the traffic was slow, stop-start, until he had gotten to the other side of Boston. Then it was even slower, as he had now joined the traffic leaving the city on a Friday night. He swung the car onto the exit ramp, and took the underpass onto Mystic Avenue, and made the rest of the journey through the residential streets.

  It was almost ten thirty and the rain had turned to snow when he finally arrived at Gail and Ryan’s building. The parking lot was fuller than normal, and there were only two spaces left. He pulled in between a dark coloured Ford and a silver Audi. Climbing out of his car, he looked up at Gail and Ryan’s floor. There were lights on. He ran up to the lobby door and pressed the intercom. After a few seconds, he heard Ryan’s voice.

  ‘Ryan? It’s Matt. Can you let me up?’ His voice was breathless and he spoke impatiently.

  ‘Sure thing. Come up.’ Ryan sounded puzzled.

  There was a buzz from the intercom and a click as the doors unlocked. Matt ran up the stairs. Ryan was waiting for him, standing in the open doorway.

  ‘Matt?’ Ryan asked, looking at his watch. ‘What’s up? What -?’

  Matt pushed past him into the apartment. ‘Where are they?’ he demanded, looking around the room. Then he toured the place, checking the bedrooms, the kitchen, the bathrooms.

  ‘Matt?’ asked Ryan, closing the door. ‘Slow down, will you? Tell me what’s going on.’

  ‘Where’s Gail?’ Matt asked again, standing in the middle of the apartment, out of breath, his clothes wet from the snow outside.

  ‘I- I don’t… Why do you want Gail?’ stammered Ryan.

  ‘Because she has Nathan.’ Matt slumped onto an armchair. He rested his arms on his knees and looked up at Ryan. ‘She has Nathan and Ruth.’

  ‘Gail’s not here,’ Ryan said, sitting down opposite. ‘She’s on a weekend away; one of those baby shower affairs.’

  Matt looked up at Ryan, sat back in the chair and closed his eyes.

  ‘Why do you think she has Nathan and Ruth?’ Ryan asked. ‘What’s going on?’

  Matt opened his eyes and laughed bitterly. ‘What’s going on?’ he said. ‘I’ve no idea what’s going on. Ever since my wife...’ He paused. ‘Didn’t come home one night, all kinds of queer shit�
�s been going on. My car gets stolen a few days after the spare keys disappear from my bedroom closet. It reappears a few days later in Brooklyn -’

  ‘Brooklyn? Is that where you’ve come from?’

  ‘In a roundabout way. I was there this morning, Cape Cod this afternoon, here tonight.’

  ‘Let me get you a drink,’ said Ryan as he got up.

  ‘Just water please.’ Matt sat back in the chair again.

  ‘You sure? Okay.’ Ryan passed him a glass of water and sat back down again. ‘So your car was taken to Brooklyn?’

  Matt took a mouthful and nodded. ‘The police told me that it had been found abandoned in a parking garage there. I picked it up from there this morning. From the police pound, I mean, not the garage.’ He sat back and closed his eyes again. ‘I went to the garage -’

  He was interrupted by the sound of his cell phone ringing. ‘It’s my parents,’ he said. ‘I’d better take it.’

  Ryan nodded and went to the bathroom while Matt spoke to his parents. Then into the kitchen to tidy up some cups. As he did so, he could hear Matt on the phone to his parents.

  ‘Any news? Okay, I’m at Gail’s now. No, Ryan’s here; she’s not. No, he’s not either. All right, I’ll call you in the morning. Call me first if anything…’

  Ryan returned as Matt put his phone away. ‘You went to the parking garage, you were saying…’

  ‘Yeah. I went to the garage. I kind of bribed the superintendent there to let me see the CCTV footage of the day the car was left there.’ He looked up at Ryan. ‘Ryan, Ruth parked the car there.’

  Chapter Forty-One

  ‘It was Ruth parking the car?’ Ryan asked. ‘Are you sure? Sorry – stupid question. But what does that have to do with Gail?’

  ‘You know bits, I guess,’ Matt sighed. ‘But let me tell you the whole story. From the top.’

  And so for the next hour, Matt related to Ryan the saga of the last couple of weeks, from Ruth’s not returning home to his rush back up to Boston after Nathan’s disappearance that day. Ryan sat quietly, nodding. Some of the story he knew, but from Gail’s perspective. It was now almost midnight.