“You’re going to need it,” she’d answered his questioning look.
The liquor burned like heck on the way down and he chased it with the water his mom pushed toward him. Then she’d poured another shot. She had her healing kit on the table in front of her. Jack suddenly realized what the whiskey was for: his mom was going to set his nose. He’d quickly downed the next shot.
“Now these. They won’t prevent your black eyes, but the caffeine will reduce their size.” She’d shaken a couple of migraine formula acetaminophen tablets from a bottle and Jack swallowed them obediently.
His mom spread a small towel on the counter top and then opened the freezer and withdrew a handful of ice. She centered the ice on the towel and folded the edges in. The bundle was then wetted slightly and slid into a zip top bag. She handed the ice pack to Jack.
His mother had always possessed a natural talent for healing. Her grandfather had once been a great sect shaman. As the shaman title was now more honorary than functional, Jack’s mom decided to put her talent to good use and went to nursing school.
Jack vaguely remembered the relaxed feeling as the numbing effects of the alcohol seeped into his bloodstream.
“What do you think? One more?” His mom held up the bottle of whiskey.
Jack raised the cold bundle to his nose and applied it gingerly. His eyes widened and he moaned as he nodded.
After giving the last shot a few minutes to take effect, his mom stood behind him. “Just lean your head back against me.”
She took a couple of loose ice cubes from a bowl on the table and pressed them to either side of Jack’s nose. The cold turned into a sting, and then the area became numb. Considering he knew what was about to happen, Jack felt pretty mellow.
The only sensation when his mom felt the break had been the pressure of her fingers. Then a sharp jolt of pain had made him sit up straight.
“Done.” His mom moved his hand holding the ice pack up to his nose.
After that, the pain had faded pretty quickly. When Jack pushed the chair back and stood up, a wave of dizziness rushed to his head. His mom grabbed his arm. “It’s the whiskey. Maybe you should sit back down.” She eased him back into the chair.
His recollection of the remainder of the evening was a blur. Though he remembered his dad helping him upstairs, how he got into bed was a mystery. His jeans were off and his bloody shirt was nowhere to be seen. Thank goodness he’d had on a button-up.
Jack heard activity downstairs and remembered it was Monday—his mom’s day off. Somehow the homey smell of toast and cinnamon permeated his swollen nose, making his stomach growl. He’d wriggled into his sweat pants and was contemplating a shirt when he heard the stairs creak. His mom came through the doorway with a tray.
“Back in bed.”
Though Jack’s smile was limited by his fat lip, the warmth he felt inside was undiminished. His mom used to do this for him when he was small and had to stay home sick from school. For the last couple of years he’d never been so ill he couldn’t stay home by himself. He usually just slept the day away. After setting the tray on the bottom of his bed, his mom helped him into a shirt. Then she stacked his two pillows and retrieved Jase’s pillow to add to the pile. When he was settled, she transferred the tray to his lap.
Jack’s stomach rumbled again. Cinnamon toast and eggs. She’d even made him bacon. “After you eat,” she instructed, “take the pills, then rest. That’s what you’re here for.”
Jack’s pounding head felt better as soon as he had food in his stomach. He obediently swallowed the pills, set the tray aside and reclined against the pillows. His mind, though, wasn’t in a restful state. Images of the attack flashed in his head and he tried to make some sense of the debacle. Since Jack knew nothing of the guys who beat him up—even their names weren’t familiar—one of them being Natalie’s ex couldn’t really be ignored. His relationship with Natalie must have something to do with it.
Which did not mean it was her fault. Not by a long shot.
Jack was also anxious to get on with the rescue plan since the information they’d uncovered yesterday was a major breakthrough. The thought reminded him that he may no longer have a computer or a phone. He pushed up from the pillows and groaned. He’d almost forgotten about his sore torso.
Wondering what his chances were of sneaking downstairs undetected and how much flak he’d get if he got caught, Jack advanced carefully across the room, willing the old wood floor not to creak. Then a glance at his dresser stopped him in his tracks. Stacked on the corner lay his computer, notebook and phone. He slid the pile into his arms and crept back to bed. The phone case looked pretty bad. In addition to plentiful scratches, cracks spidered from the corner that must have hit the sidewalk first and a piece had splintered away. The screen, however, was amazingly uncracked. He’d find out if the phone was functional soon, but he guessed it was fine. The investment in the hard cover had paid off.
He felt a stab of dismay when he moved the notebook and saw the scores in the top of his computer. His mind’s eye pictured the machine skidding across the sidewalk. There were no obvious signs of impact though, so if the laptop had simply slid, he’d consider himself fortunate. When Windows started as expected, he breathed a sigh of relief.
He spent the day dozing or plucking on his acoustic guitar while he thought about the next step in rescuing Emma. As soon as school was over, he texted Natalie. When he didn’t receive an immediate reply, he decided to take a shower. The hot water proved extremely soothing—his face still looked like hell—but he moved a lot easier. Stepping from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, Jack paused when he heard voices.
Since the house had been built before indoor plumbing, the bathroom had been added off the kitchen. The voices came from the living room. Jack listened from the bathroom doorway.
Natalie was here?
Crap.
To get to the stairs, Jack had to cross the kitchen—which meant he’d walk past the doorway to the living room. He stepped back into the small room and pulled on his sweatpants. He made the trip to the stairway a quick dash, gritting his teeth as his body protested. After a slow climb up the stairs, he found a worn-in pair of jeans and gingerly pulled a soft, old t-shirt over his head. He combed his fingers through his hair. God, with two black eyes and a swollen lower lip he hated to talk to anyone.
Still, they had to get moving on the rescue plan or forget it. Time was running out.
His mom came to the bottom of the stairs as he started down. “The girl who brought you home is here.”
“Natalie. I heard. Thanks, Mom.”
“How do you feel?”
“Not so bad. The shower loosened me up and I think moving around has been a good thing.”
“Glad to hear it.” His mom touched his face lightly for a moment, her forehead scrunched in concern. Then she allowed a small smile and stepped aside. “I’m going to pick up Jase. We’ll see you in a few minutes.”
”Okay.” Jack nodded.
Natalie sat on the couch. Her eyes stretched wide as she took in his appearance but she smiled to cover her initial reaction. “Uh… I texted you back but I guess you were in the shower?”
Did his mom tell her that? Or had Natalie seen him? And what did it matter, anyway? Jack took his phone from his pocket to hide the blush he felt creeping up his neck. “Yeah.” He scanned the text and then glanced up to catch Natalie’s furrowed brow before she quickly turned away from his battered face. “It doesn’t feel near as bad as it looks.”
She gave a reluctant nod, then held up a laptop with a meaningful grin. “Check it out.”
Jack raised his eyebrows. “Uh… new?” Her text had only said she was coming by with something to show him.
“No.” She giggled. The sound was surreal—but in a good way—like the sun suddenly bursting from the clouds on an overcast day. “It’s Emma’s.”
“O… kay.”
Natalie grinned at his apparent confusion. �
�We need to know Emma’s heritage, right? Well, I was trying to think of the best way to approach her parents.” She patted the couch next to her and Jack sat down. “Then I realized I didn’t have to ask them; Emma did a report on it last year. So I went by her house after school and asked if I could get some things out of her room.” Natalie’s smile faded. “It was rough… going in there. I stood in the hallway for a few minutes trying to pull it together before I could step through the doorway.” She swallowed and closed her eyes for a moment. “I told myself I’d just grab her computer and get out. Then I remembered I had to find some stuff that was mine. Everything was untouched,” she whispered, “like she’d be coming home any second.” She gazed at Jack as tiny pools formed on her bottom lashes. “Before I left I vowed that we’d get her back.”
“We will,” Jack assured her.
The laptop finished booting and asked for a password. Natalie poised her fingers over the keyboard and pursed her lips.
“Do you know it?”
“Hopefully. I know a few of the passwords she uses. I’m not sure how often she changes them.”
Natalie’s first two guesses failed. She glanced at Jack. “What if I only have one more chance?”
He shrugged. “We gotta try.”
“Mmm,” Natalie mused. “What was going on over the summer…” Then she sat up straight and tapped out a few keystrokes. She met Jack’s eyes. He nodded. She hit the enter key and—
They were locked out.
“Ugh,” she groaned. “There goes my brilliant idea.”
Before Jack could say anything, footsteps pounded on the porch, the front door banged open and Jase bounced in. “Jacky!” the six-year-old exclaimed, then stood still for a moment and wrinkled up his forehead. “You don’t look good.”
“Jeez, thanks, buddy.” Jack laughed. Then he opened his arms and his little brother flung himself into them.
Jase gave Natalie a shy glance and then examined Jack’s face up close. “What happened to you?”
Jack didn’t want to lie, nor did he want to explain, so he employed distraction—which generally worked remarkably well with Jase. “Jase, this is Natalie. Natalie, Jase.”
“Hi Jase.” Natalie offered a friendly smile.
Then Jack’s mom came through the door, a small backpack covered in graphics of smiling cars hanging from her hand. “Jase, please come and get your backpack. I shouldn’t have to carry it in for you.”
Jase extracted himself from his brother’s arms and trudged over to his mom with a huge exaggerated sigh. He took the backpack and half-carried, half-dragged it toward the kitchen. The way it swung from the straps evidenced that the pack wasn’t very heavy.
Jack’s mom shook her head, bemused. “Not sure what this is all about,” she muttered to Jack and Natalie. Then she followed her younger son into the kitchen. “How about a snack?”
Jase’s enthusiastic reply made Jack chuckle and he caught Natalie with her hand over her mouth stifling a giggle. “He’s cute.”
“He’s all right,” Jack admitted. “Most of the time.”
Natalie’s gaze dropped to Emma’s laptop and her face fell. “I guess this is a bust.”
“I’m pretty sure it’ll reset in like a half hour. Do you have any other guesses?”
Natalie rolled her eyes. “We could be here a long time doing that. Maybe I should just talk to her parents.”
Jack wondered what kind of strained conversation that would be.
“What about your friend? The one who can learn about things by touching them? Could he figure out the password by touching Emma’s computer?” Natalie’s eyes were round and hopeful, with a glint of excitement.
Jack pressed his lips together, thinking. “Mmm, it’s a great idea, but I have a feeling he’d only learn things about Emma, not the computer.” As he watched the light fade from Natalie’s eyes, he hurried to add, “But I’m no expert in his ability. Let me ask him.” He picked up his phone and began typing a text. “I’m just going to tell him our problem. He’s got some pretty crazy computer skills too.” Jack wasn’t sure he wanted Wes around Natalie, but he couldn’t stand the thought of her trying to get information from people who were distraught over their missing daughter.
Natalie scooted so her back rested on the couch and clasped her hands in her lap.
“Wes is a gamer,” Jack explained. “When he’s not playing his bass guitar, he’s usually in front of the—” He was cut off by his text tone and looked down at his phone. “Awesome. He’s coming over.”
Jack’s mom entered the room and set a large dish of apple slices in front of Jack and Natalie. “Here’s caramel dip, if you’d like.” She set a plastic container next to the apples.
“Everybody wants caramel dip, Mom,” a small voice called from the kitchen.
Jack and Natalie both laughed. “Take it from the expert,” Jack’s mom said with a grin.
What Jack thought might be an awkward period of time actually passed quickly as he and Natalie chatted about mundane things like which apples were the best and whether caramel apples were better with or without nuts. Their bowl was nearly empty when they heard the hollow clump of feet on the wooden porch followed by a knock on the door.
Jack popped up from the couch. “That’s probably Wes.”
“Whoa,” Wes exclaimed when Jack swung the door open. He took a close look at Jack’s face. “Gnarly.”
“Yeah, it’s awesome,” Jack grumbled as he let his friend in. Then with a stern warning look he murmured: “Be cool.”
“As a cucumber.” Wes grinned in return. Jack made introductions as Wes set a laptop down next to Emma’s and began to unwind a cord.
“So we’re going with technology,” Jack observed.
Wes nodded. He opened the laptop he’d brought and powered it up. “What I pick up from objects is usually emotion based.” He plugged one end of the cord into Emma’s computer and the other into his. “Think about any names, numbers or words she might use for a password.”
Jack perched on the arm of the couch next to Wes and watched as a program opened. His friend leaned forward and tapped a few keys. “Okay, shoot,” Wes said to Natalie. “Numbers first.” Once he’d entered everything Natalie could think of, he sat back on the couch and looked from Jack to Natalie. “Now we wait. So dude, tell me you kicked the other guy’s butt.”
Jack shook his head. “Never had a chance. I was ambushed.” He told an abbreviated version of the story, not wanting to dwell on the subject—especially in front of Natalie.
“So your ex saw you and Jack together and didn’t like it?”
Natalie nodded. “I guess. He… he never seemed like that kind of guy, though.”
When his mom entered the room, Jack was grateful for the interruption. “You didn’t notice your father pull in, did you?” She stepped to the window to look for herself. “Elder Whitehead is on the phone.”
Jack swallowed hard. Shera’s father. Calling his dad. “No,” he managed. “Haven’t seen him.”
Wes’s eyes were big as saucers and he held up his hand for Jack to high-five. “Way to go, dude.”
A flush worked its way up Jack’s neck. He didn’t return his friend’s gesture. “He’s a sect elder. He could be calling about anything.” But Jack’s thoughts were exactly the opposite. His dad’s ability—telepathy—was seldom requested. Mental communication required the other party to also possess telepathic ability, and the capability was extremely rare. He also doubted Elder Whitehead was calling from Petoskey because he needed his car fixed. Scrambling to change the subject, Jack pointed to the computer screen. “How’s the progress?”
“Do you think he’s calling about your position?” Natalie asked.
“Nah, I haven’t done anything yet,” Jack replied as his heart beat double-time. He couldn’t remember Elder Whitehead ever calling their house.
“Position?” Wes snickered. “Wouldn’t that be up to you and Shera?”
Jack stood and flicked his friend
on the back of his head. “Shut up.”
“Ow!” Wes stopped laughing but still wore a mischievous grin. “C’mon man, how could I pass that up?”
Natalie swiveled her head from Wes to Jack and then back to Wes. “What’re you guys talking about?”
“Jack’s position,” Wes stressed the word. “As son-in-law.”
“Wait.” Natalie leaned forward so she could meet Jack’s eyes. “You’re engaged?”
“No. No,” he repeated again, more firmly. His cheeks burned. “It’s just…” He struggled for a way around the subject, coming up blank. “He might want to arrange it.”
“Arrange an engagement? People still do that?” Natalie blurted out. “I mean… uh… I know they still do… some places.” Spots of pink appeared on her cheeks. “I just didn’t think… around here.”
An uncomfortable silence filled the small room.
Wes craned his neck and gazed up at Jack with raised eyebrows. Jack stood with his arms crossed over his chest and glared at his friend. Wes furrowed his brow with a slight shrug as if to say ‘what did I do?’ and Jack shook his head.
Then Wes’s laptop chimed. “Bingo. We’re in,” he announced.
Everyone was quick to focus on the computers.
“Okay, let’s see if I can find Emma’s family history project.” Natalie scooted to the edge of the couch and began searching the documents folder.
Wes disconnected the USB cable and wound it around his hand. Then he powered off his machine. “What was all that?” he murmured as Jack followed him out the door. “I thought you were just ‘working together.’ ” He put air quotes on the phrase.
“We are.”
“So what’s the big deal?”
“I don’t know. It was embarrassing.”
Wes looked at him doubtfully. “Whatever, dude.” He turned to go, then stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Do you think you’ll make it to practice tonight?”
“Uhh…” Jack moved his shoulders. They didn’t feel too bad. “Yeah, I think so.” Missing a practice would only give Tommy another reason to be displeased with Jack. And even though the singer tended to stress him out at times, jamming with the band was Jack’s best pressure outlet, and he currently had plenty of pent-up tension he’d like to get rid of.
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