I gasp twice, the tears flow down my face. “Okay, thank you.” I want to reach across the counter to kiss her.
As I turn and reach into my purse once more, she calls after me, “Oh and have a good time at Disney.” I wave my hand at her before diving it into my purse for my phone.
“Call Mom. Message Isaac.” I mumble to myself. No, I can’t message Isaac. He said he’d leave his cell at the gym which would give us extra time if they try to track him down. I can’t leave a message for him on it.
I can’t find my phone, then I remember—it’s connected in the center console of the car. I run the last few yards of the hallway way and punch the exit button with the side of my fist. Bouncing on my toes, waiting for the excruciating slowness of the automatic door mechanism to whirr into action. Finally, it opens and I scurry down the stone steps to the car.
My mind is a whirlwind of abstract thoughts. Why has Mom picked Hope up? Why didn’t the school call me?
I’m confused by this until I beep open the car and pick up my phone—there’s no service to my cell.
What’s going on? I pay the bill every month, there’s never been an issue? I power the phone off, unable to wait until it’s up and running, and speed off toward the dentist. Maybe the service will reconnect when the phone re-boots.
I regulate my breathing and slow my speed to the legal limit. The last thing I need is to be pulled over.
Two blocks have whizzed by, before my phone powers up again. I press my thumb on the screen and make repetitive glances towards it but there’s still no service. I feel like the universe is against me right now.
I slow the car when I reach the dentist and scour the parking lot for Mom and Dad’s car. Although I can’t see it, it doesn’t mean they aren’t here.
Dumping the car on the street, in a spot which may earn me a ticket but hopefully not a towaway, I run into the building.
The reception room is heaving, as ever low-cost dentists are hard to find, and I elbow my way with profuse apologies to the front of the line.
“Sorry. I’m so sorry. Has my daughter been here today? Hope. Hope Carter,” I fire out at the receptionist.
She looks at me blankly for what is a ridiculous amount of time, then finally consults the appointment screen. “No, she’s booked in tomorrow at three.”
I take a deep breath to stop me from reaching over and taking hold of her thorax. “Yes, but has she been in today?”
The other receptionist casts her eyes at the screen and takes over the inquiry. “Yes, she came in earlier but went when we advised it was the wrong day.”
“Okay. Thank you,” I shout as I stumble through the waiting room and onto the sidewalk.
I haven’t got time for this shit, Isaac will have left the gym and will expect to meet me at our designated place. If I’m not there, he’ll panic. I don’t know how to make up time.
I power up the phone. One bar of signal strength appears at the top and then it lights with messages from Mom telling me she’s taken Hope home, ready to pick up whenever I’m ready.
Against Isaac’s instructions, I call him, biting my fingernails waiting for him to pick up and hoping he hasn’t left the gym, and his phone, already.
27
Isaac
My heart thumps against my rib cage as I climb in my car. With eyes fixed on my rearview mirror, as I pull off, I try to keep calm. Carlos kept me at the gym longer than I intended to stay and it makes me suspicious. Cate calling me as I was about to dump my phone in an unused locker makes me crazy.
I un-mute the phone.
“Isaac.” Cate’s voice frantic. “What happened?”
“I was still at the gym. I’m in the car now.”
“I’m going to be late. Hope wasn’t at school, Mom’s taken her to her place. I’ve got to go across town now to pick her up.”
Shit. Everything about today is screaming like an air-raid siren; get the fuck out of Dodge.
“Okay don’t worry I’m leaving now. I’ll meet you at your Mom’s,” I say calmly.
Shit. I look at the phone. I’ll ditch it once we’re safe.
The gym is only ten minutes from Cate’s parent’s home, and I quickly call Juan on my way there.
“Hey. Shit’s not right around here.”
“I know,” he says, sounding as if he’s walking while talking.
“You need to leave the gym now.”
“Already have. Diego’s bringing the car now.”
“What happened when I left?”
“Carlos came back in shouting orders. He’s told me to pick you up from your apartment. Take you to the club tonight.”
“Okay. That’s good. He doesn’t know then. We’re setting off early, so don’t hang around.”
“Yes, boss.”
I cut off the call, taking my foot immediately off the gas, when I round the corner and see a van parked outside Cate’s parents’ house. It looks out of place.
Shit. Hope’s supposedly in there.
Despite my meticulous planning and my belief Carlos had no brains, it looks like I screwed up. Okay, he might not have the most diverse vocabulary or any notion what it’s like to go to school. But he has a strategic mind which picks up on signs and stashes them away until he can make sense of them. And that’s what he’s done with me.
Maybe I was too late. I let him get under my skin. If I’d made my departure straight after the fight, on my own, I might have made it.
Or maybe Cate and Hope should have disappeared first.
Now, I don’t give a shit whether I make this and maybe I never did. But I have to make sure Cate and Hope do.
I park around the corner, pull on my ball cap and zip my hoodie to mask any visible tattoos. Then, with hands stuffed in my pockets, I walk with a fast gait to the back of the block and leap softly over the neighbor’s fence.
Skulking close to the fence, I approach the side of Cate’s parents’ house and drop to a squat with my back lent against the wall.
I can hear voices inside. Two different men.
Bouncing up, I flick my head so I can peer through the window. Cate’s dad lies on the floor with a pool of blood around his head.
I sink back down. “Fuck, fuck,” I hiss.
Once again, I poke my head over the window ledge and this time can see Cate’s Mom slumped in the chair with her hands taped behind her back. One of Carlos’s henchman, Mario, looks wired to fuck.
This will not go well.
I need to find Hope while these guys are occupied with Cate’s mom and dad. Making sure she’s safe before I make a move on them.
Scooting around to the front of the house, I scan everywhere before slipping over the fence and on to the porch. I cup my hand to my face and stare through the sheers at the window. The TV blares out a kiddy program and Hope sits in front of it playing with toys. I breathe a sigh of relief.
There’s a small gap in the lower sash, so carefully I push it up, halt when it squeaks, adjust the line of resistance and push again.
I squeeze my head through the gap.
“Hope,” I whisper across to her.
At first, she doesn’t hear me but I don’t want to draw unwanted attention to myself or to her. I push on the drapes and a shaft of light streaks onto her face. She rubs her eyes and then looks directly at me, taking a few seconds to register I’m a familiar face.
With a finger to my mouth, I whisper, “Shush. Come here.”
I pull back my hand as she comes to the window. She’s about to say something, when I stuff my hand back through and cover her mouth, carefully pulling her through the gap.
She wriggles but I hold her tight to my side, running quickly across the road to my car. I beep it open and put her in the back.
“Hope, we need to go to your mom, okay?”
She nods her head, her lips sucked into her mouth in fright.
“There’s nothing to be scared of, Sweet Pea. You’re safe in here.”
“Okay-y-y,” she sobs.
I push back her hair from her forehead. “You’re all right but I need you to tell me how many men were in the house?”
She shakes her head with a frightened expression on her face.
“Did you see anybody in there with grandma and grandpa?”
“No,” she whispers, her head drooping.
It’s a relief, but it also means my next move may not be as straightforward as I would like.
“Hope, I need you to be a big girl for me now.” She raises her head and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “I need you to promise to stay here. I’ll be real quick.”
“Okay,” she sniffles.
I close the door, deactivate the alarm in the car, and lock it.
Walking around the corner, I’m about to sneak onto the property when I hear the air blast from a silencer. I’ve not heard the sound many times in my life but enough to know what it means. I can see figures behind the sheer drape at the glazed front door. These hitmen don’t take rear exits because all they know is how to instill fear.
Quickly, I rush back across the street and crouch at the side of the car. Hope looks across at me through the window and giggles. She thinks I’m playing a game.
I creep around to the driver’s side and slink in. These guys know this car and I cross everything wishing they carry on.
As soon as they pull off, I check Hope is still buckled in and push my foot on the gas, turning the steering wheel with the heel of my palm. I need to take us as far away as possible from the direction those guys are heading.
I call Cate’s cell, but it’s unable to connect.
“What the hell,” I mumble under my breath, hoping for the best and expecting the worse.
Calling Juan instead, “Where are you, man?”
“Picking Eduardo up.”
“Okay. We’ve got a situation here. I need you to stay and manage it.”
“What do you need me to do?”
I glance in the rearview mirror and spot Hope staring at me. I take the phone from the holder and place it to my ear. “I’m gonna call 911 and I need you to watch what happens. The address is 303 Holder Parade. Tell Diego and Eduardo I’ll see them tonight.”
“Sure boss.”
“Fuck.” I briefly look in the mirror at Hope’s reaction to my cuss and almost miss Cate’s car flash by in the opposite direction.
I stamp on the brakes and hurl the car around, the four-wheel-drive traction powering me off again toward the direction of danger.
Quickly, I call 911, and anonymously report a gunshot and guys making off in a van.
Throwing the phone onto my seat, I speed up behind Cate’s Porsche.
Shit, I need not have bought her a fast car, like everything in Cate’s life she’s mastered it well. And there’s no way she can see her parents, especially if staying here puts her and Hope in more danger.
I pull up as close to her bumper as I dare, until I see her glance repeatedly in the rearview mirror. I pull back, expecting her to stomp on the brakes.
28
Cate
With relief oozing out of every pore, I clamber out of the car and fling my arms Isaac as he rounds the hood. But there’s something not right, deep in his eyes.
I don’t ask if everything is okay because I want to believe it is.
He places both hands on my waist and pushes me away. I search his eyes but can still only see that same expression. I swallow hard on a rising feeling of dread.
Quickly, I glance through the window to the back seat and a rush of relief fizzes up. Hope looks bored; sat in the car rocking in her seat, wanting us to go.
“Get in,” a soft edge to his words and not the usual authoritative tone.
“What do you mean? I thought we’re going in my car.”
He shakes his head. “No. It’s not safe.”
That sounds like someone knows. Someone who shouldn’t.
“Isaac?” My bottom lip quivers. “I like this car.”
“Not anymore you don’t.”
I slip into the passenger seat while Isaac strides around to the driver’s side.
“Our bags, they’re in the trunk,” I say, as he ducks his head to lower into the seat. He goes to retrieve the bags, hitching them into the back of his SUV, coming back with a cooler bag which he stuffs into his door pocket.
“Drinks for the journey,” he explains.
I turn to face my daughter and ask her, “You excited, Sweet Pea?” I try to make my voice as light as possible, not wanting to scare her.
“Where are we going Momma?” she asks.
“We’re…” Isaac grabs hold of my knee, squeezing it until it hurts. I stop talking mid-sentence and turn to him, screwing up my face in a silent question.
He purses his lips and makes small shakes of his head.
“We’re… We’re going somewhere you’ve never been before.” I look at Isaac for approval and without smiling he nods his head.
“Oh, it sounds awful,” she replies, stopping her rocking as Isaac speeds up the car and instead, she places a finger on the window as if trying to touch everything flashing by.
I shuffle in my seat my head fogged with a slew of thoughts. None of this makes sense, I know we agreed to keep everything between ourselves but now we’re finally executing the plan it’s crazy not to tell Hope where we’re going.
A glance in the side mirror and I spot Hope yawning. It’s a good sign; if she sleeps, I can at least ask Isaac what the hell is going on.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” he eventually says. Hope’s head rocking in her seat.
“I feel sick, Isaac. I had an awful fright back there. I messed up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I put the dentist appointment in the wrong day.”
He snaps his head across to me. “There’s nothing you can do about it now. We should be back on plan soon.”
He passes over a bottle of juice from the cooler bag. “Here, drink this. It’s an electrolyte drink. It’ll help with the shock.”
I sigh a big breath; the tears welling in my eyes about to spill over. Then, I glug the juice, the bitter aftertaste of sweeteners makes me wince.
He reaches across and gives my hand a big squeeze. “It will be fine. Grab the blanket from the parcel shelf and have a nap. You’ll feel better after a sleep.”
Despite the urge not to, I recline the back of the seat and let the motion of the car and the hum of the tires on the asphalt, lull me to sleep. Knowing Isaac is here to protect me and Hope is asleep in the back.
Sometime later, my head rocks against the car window and the heat from the sun wakes me in a sweat. I reach for the back of my neck, and rub out a painful crick.
Yawning, I ask Isaac. “How far did we get?” Scrabbling at the side for the seat recline button to bring me upright.
Without looking across at me, he wrings his hands on the steering wheel. “Almost there.”
I hitch my body around to look through to Hope, who is fast asleep, clutching Mr Rat. I smile and turn back to the view through the windshield at ruddy-brown earth marked with an occasional scrub bush and cactus.
“Isaac, where are we?”
I study the scene from the side window and still nothing but desert.
A black SUV rushes by, making our car quiver. It flicks on its hazard lights and I suck in a frightened breath. Isaac lifts one hand off the steering wheel in a friendly enough wave and it carries on speeding away from us.
“Isaac?” I ask, trying not to let panic overcome my voice.
“We’re almost there,” he repeats.
“Where?”
He doesn’t answer, his jaw muscles tensing as he continues to look ahead.
“What time is it?” I ask, trying to make out if the clock on the dash actually reads eight pm. I can smell the salty notes of the ocean. We must be on the I-5.
Then I look back at the clock. The retro design making my fuzzy brain twitch.
“Did we get stuck in traffic?” I ask.
We should be beyond Los Angeles by now, but we’re obviously not, as the road is so close to the ocean I can glimpse its turquoise hue now and then.
He shakes his head. Silently.
This is looking uniquely Mexican. But it can’t be so. We must have gone too far and are heading back south. Or maybe it’s not the coast. Maybe I was mistaken. It’s a reservoir or river.
“Isaac. Are we in Arizona? We’re supposed to be going to Oregon. It’s cool in Oregon. I brought sweaters,” I say, stupidly rambling.
“You don’t need sweaters here.”
I snap my head from him back to the ocean. On my right-hand side.
And the sun. Is hovering over the ocean.
The cogs in my mind click into gear.
“Isaac. Where are we going?”
“Home.”
Then suddenly the relevance of the clock design registers and I look around at my seat, the dash, and the black hood stretching before us. This isn’t the car we set off in. This isn’t Isaac’s car.
“Isaac?” I ask, not know which specific question to ask first.
Suddenly, he swerves the car off the tarmac onto a pot-riddled track and the air bumps out of my lungs, preventing me from asking anything else.
The black SUV ahead, is on the same track, kicking up dust. As the track becomes more stable, I can see through the diminishing dirt-cloud a large set of metal gates. They’re flanked by a high, red-plastered wall, topped with clay pantiles.
The gates open and the SUV ambles passed them, with us following closely behind.
As we speed through, I clock two men dressed in checked shirts and sombrero’s holding open the gates and when I spin around, I watch them close us in. Rifles slung on belts around their shoulders.
I want to ask questions, but my heart is pounding so fast and loud, I can’t find the composure to mouth a single word.
Isaac glances across at me and it’s at that point I comprehend there’s something wrong. Something has de-railed our plans for a happy ever after.
He drives through a grove of trees, growing out of cracked earth, until my eyes are drawn to a large ranch which looms before us.
Bad Ink Page 19