We’re not in the desert anymore.
11
Her Heart
∞
The way she always looked at me
beyond the hardened shell
to the vulnerable interior.
To the darkness.
She wasn’t afraid.
She embraced me, touched me there.
With her heart, her caring and love.
All her being.
The steady thud of her pulsing life
reverberating long after.
Driving me back to the light.
∞
Despite all attempts to remain positive, I’ve found myself losing hope.
After hearing Morgan’s terror in her screams and cries through that last phone call from Mark a month ago, we stopped all efforts to affect his business. He exercised his leverage over us, and we couldn’t risk him hurting Morgan any further. We couldn’t let him lay another finger on her or the unborn baby undoubtedly growing inside her.
Robert is back at work on the police force. His vacation that turned into a leave of absence came to an end not long after we stopped fighting back against Mark’s business. There were days before he made that decision in which we both just sat at the dining room table saying nothing, overwhelmed with the blank thoughts of having no idea where to find the woman we both love who needs us to rescue her.
I spend the hours of the days that Robert is at work poring over maps and notes about every single place I can think of where Mark has had some presence since I’ve known him. Robert’s office has turned into the control center of information about everything Mark. Robert even pulled boxes’ worth of his former research about Mark from storage, from back when he was looking for any evidence that would lead to Mark’s whereabouts and be sufficient proof to lock him up in prison.
From the outside we must look obsessed, and I guess in a way we are. The goals of our lives have shifted. Everything else has been put on hold. The only thing that matters is finding Morgan, and we will never give up.
At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself, though internally I’m starting to doubt my resolve.
Sleep hasn’t come easily to me since Morgan was taken away, but it’s been exceptionally hard to find rest at night these days. Morgan visits me in my nightmares, her screams resounding in my ears, thick blood covering her face, Mark’s hands all over her body. And then I see her belly, watching it grow unnaturally fast with time-lapsed speed until it’s the size of a basketball beneath her skin.
My mind never goes beyond that, though. I don’t actually see the baby or Morgan holding the tiny life in her arms with a proud smile on her face. There are no mental images of me with them, basking in the love and joy of having created such a miracle with the woman I love.
Everything inside me hurts just thinking about her and that baby and how far away I am from finding both of them.
Distraction. I need something to take my mind off her today. I’m in desperate need of reprieve.
I offer to make dinner tonight. It’s something I should have done weeks ago, but I was too used to devoting all my time to destroying Mark’s business and finding Morgan. I realize now that, if I’m truthful with myself, taking a couple hours out of my self-imposed exile in Robert’s office isn’t going to affect our search. We could spend every waking minute of the rest of our lives searching and still not find her.
I’m admittedly not the best cook, so Cindy made it easy for me. I’m tossing frozen stir-fry vegetables and pre-cooked grilled chicken around with oil in a fry pan while water heats up for instant rice in a pot on the stove. She already set out the teriyaki sauce and box of instant rice on the counter. When she started to raid the cupboards for plates and glasses for the table, I handed her a glass of wine and shooed her away despite her protests.
I glance back from the stove to see her sitting on the couch taking sips of the wine while reading a magazine, and I wonder if this is the first time she has taken a moment to truly relax in recent months.
I’ve just put the rice in the pot and covered it with a lid when I hear the front door open. Robert and I share a brief glance when he walks in, the lack of emotion on both of our faces making it clear that neither of us have had any breakthroughs today, which is about the same as every other day.
Robert takes the mail out of his jacket pocket and tosses it on the counter with his keys, badge, and gun before he realizes I’m standing in front of the stove tossing stir-fry.
“Taking up a new hobby?” he asks with a questioning look.
No, just losing my mind trying to find our girl. “Cindy needed a break,” I say back to him quietly.
He glances over at his wife who sets down her wine and magazine and approaches us. She pulls Robert into a hug, and as he hugs her back, I look away. When I hear them kiss, I busy myself with adding the teriyaki sauce to the stir-fry, trying to avoid the awkwardness. It’s still not entirely comfortable for me here in this atmosphere of family and love that somehow manages to persist in this space even though the house is missing a vital piece of the family. I vaguely remember that feeling with my parents before they were killed. It’s been almost completely absent in my life with Mark.
“How’s it coming, Leo?” Cindy asks. They’ve pulled apart, but she’s still holding on to Robert’s shoulder.
“Good. Almost ready,” I reply, motioning to the dining room table. “Why don’t you both take a seat?”
Cindy smiles brightly at me before pulling her husband by the arm toward the table. He somehow manages to snag the mail from the counter as she drags him. I can’t help internally laughing at his inability to just sit still and do nothing when he has two spare minutes.
They’re going through mail together as I’m setting the table. By the time I’m bringing the food over, there’s an unmistakable look of concern on Robert’s face.
I set the bowls of stir-fry and rice down in the center of the table, instantly forgetting about dinner and focusing my attention on Robert. “What is it?”
He doesn’t speak but turns over the blank white envelope in his hand, carefully running his finger under the sealed flap to open it without tearing it. He pulls out a single sheet of crisp white paper folded into thirds. Cindy stands up and moves behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest and leaning down with her head on his shoulder as he unfolds the paper.
I feel weak, like my knees want to give out on me. Pulling out my chair, I collapse into it and immediately put my head in my hands, elbows on the table, my heart racing beneath my ribcage.
I don’t want to see it. I don’t know if I can properly handle or process what that piece of paper says.
My eyes close. My breathing becomes deep and deliberate. The silence in the room is deafening, and when Cindy starts to cry, the dread I’ve been trying to ward off seeps throughout my body. I need to look at her, to understand her tears and pain. I open my eyes and see her, though I’m filled with utter confusion.
She’s smiling. She’s crying happy tears.
Robert looks in shock as he hands me the envelope and the letter together. I grasp on to them like they are the most precious objects in the world.
I read the words that I dread yet crave.
Family,
I’m okay. I’m being treated well. You don’t have to worry about me.
We’re having a baby. I heard the rapid heartbeat with my own ears, and it was the most beautiful sound. My belly’s starting to show, just a bit.
My love for this tiny life grows more each day even though I can’t see it. I feel its presence, though. So close, yet so far, but at least I’m not alone.
Missing you and thinking about you endlessly.
– M
It’s impossible to properly describe the range of emotions I feel in reading these words from the woman I love. I look up from the letter to Robert and Cindy with my lips parted in disbelief and tears in my eyes. I seem to have lost all motor control of my body, the envelope and le
tter slipping from my fingers and falling to the floor.
I move to quickly pick them up, not wanting a single crease to ruin the pristine condition of the only real words we’ve heard from Morgan since Mark took her from me over two months ago. When I pick up the envelope, I notice something fall out of it. For a moment I wonder if I’ve just imagined it, but when I glance around and find it on the tiled floor, I know it’s real.
It’s a small piece of a pine needle.
I sit back up in the chair and set the envelope and letter aside. I place the single piece of pine needle on the table in front of me.
“What the hell is that?” Robert asks. He stands up from his chair and moves behind me, leaning in to get a better look at my discovery.
“Some kind of pine needle. It fell out of the envelope.” I immediately grab the envelope and check it for any other surprises. The envelope is completely blank, and the inside is empty.
Robert pokes and prods at the pine needle, as curious as I am about what the hell it was doing with the letter in that envelope. “She’s telling us something,” Robert says, his face lighting up. “We need to find out what kind of tree this belongs to. We can rule out plenty of states with this, maybe even narrow it down to a region.”
Robert walks into the living room to grab a couple plastic evidence bags out of the cabinet. As he’s carefully plucking the pine needle from the table and placing it in the bag, I pick up the letter and read through it again, studying every single word and pulling at my memories of Morgan to piece together any other clues she may have given us.
Family. She addressed the letter to her family, not to her mom and dad. It can only mean one thing: she knows I’m here. She’s figured out that I’m working with Robert. I hope to God it gives her faith that we’re going to find her, no matter what it takes.
We’re having a baby. Mark may have thought otherwise, but in these words I know she’s talking to me. She’s letting me know I’m going to be a father whether I’m physically there with her or not. We created life together, pieces of both of us combining into someone new, borne out of love and unyielding loyalty.
So close, yet so far, but at least I’m not alone. She’s talking about the baby inside her, the child she will carry with her in the months to come just inches beneath her skin, but could she mean something more? From the moment we heard Jack went off the grid after Morgan was taken from me, I’ve figured Mark kept him around to play doctor for his unborn child and the mother who carries it. Maybe Jack’s become a larger part in her life, though. He could be giving her the support that we can’t provide while separated from her.
If there’s anyone else besides me and Morgan’s parents who I’d want looking after the woman I love and the baby I may never meet, it’s Jack.
Missing you and thinking about you endlessly. My fingers automatically move to the tattoo on my wrist, the almost complete black circle with a notch missing from the right side that represents my determination to break the endless cycle of Mark’s business ruining my family. I bring the tip of my pointer finger and thumb together with my other hand and connect it where the missing notch in the line is located, mimicking Morgan’s mirrored tattoo that she got with Mark’s supervision only days before she was taken from me. She changed the meaning of my tattoo. It stands for love and commitment now. It’s half the symbol of infinity, Morgan completing the other half, just like she completes me.
I smile and wipe the fresh tears from my eyes. I look up to see both Robert and Cindy watching me intently, Robert barely maintaining an even face while Cindy dabs at her eyes with a tissue.
“Jack’s with her,” I say reassuringly, setting the letter down on the table. “I think she’s telling us he’s taking care of her, and more than just for the baby. He’s there supporting her through this. She’s in good hands.”
Cindy nods at me, trying to smile but holding back a sob.
Robert looks deep in thought, staring blankly at the letter on the table before looking back up at me. “You’re sure we can trust him? You’re absolutely positive he hasn’t been working with Mark this whole time?”
“He’s a good man. He was genuine when he said he wanted to help me and Morgan escape. He said…” Synapses start firing rapidly in my brain. A trigger goes off within me, connecting my current train of thought with the discovery in the envelope. My eyes go wide. “He said he had a place in the mountains where he could hide us, somewhere Mark didn’t know about. But what if Mark did? Or what if Jack suggested it knowing that he told me about the place? Maybe he wanted us to find them there.”
Excitement and purpose overtake Robert’s entire expression. “Where is this place? What do you know about?”
I think for a moment, and that’s all the time it takes for my heart to sink back down to where it was before the arrival of Morgan’s letter. “Nothing. He didn’t tell me anything about it, only that it’s in the mountains. I didn’t even think at the time to ask him for details. I was more concerned about getting Morgan away from Mark first.”
“It’s okay,” Robert says encouragingly. “It’s something. We can have the pine needle and the letter analyzed. In the meantime, I want you to rack your brain for any places you can think of where Jack might have a hidden house in the mountains.” Robert carefully folds up the letter and places it with the envelope in the second evidence bag. He takes both bags with him and grabs his keys, badge, and gun from the counter. “I’m going to get these to the lab. Let’s talk in my office when I get back, Leo. I want to see if we can come up with any leads before the end of the night.”
The confidence and enthusiasm spilling out of Robert absorbs into me across the room. For the first time in weeks, I’m feeling the effects of optimism in my blood and some of the life returning to me. I feel Morgan’s love and hope in the words she wrote to me and her parents and in the clues she managed to pass along to us.
She’s given me reason to move forward, and I will embrace it and never let it go.
The light is within my grasp again, and I won’t lose sight of it.
I won’t lose her or our baby.
12
Her Fortitude
∞
Beauty.
It is her, inside and out.
Strength.
It fuels her, radiates from her, becomes her.
Determination.
To have the will to survive.
To strive for love in the face of evil.
To embrace life with purpose.
With fortitude.
To endure.
∞
I’ve been staring at these maps for almost a day, marking cities where Mark and I met up with Jack or where I knew Jack had been from the stories he loved to tell of his travels. I’ve been running through both my own notes and Robert’s notes of timelines of events in Mark’s business, highlighting anything that I know involved Jack. I’ve tried putting all the pieces together in my brain, but I’ve come up with nothing so far, and I’m fucking frustrated by it.
Leaning back in the chair, I run my hands through my hair and squeeze my eyes shut. When I open them and look up to the rough pattern on the white ceiling, I hope that when my eyes return to the papers in front of me something will jump out and give me some insight into Jack’s mind. Where the hell would he have a hidden house in the mountains?
I haven’t ruled out anywhere yet. The entire country–hell, the entire world–could be possibilities. He could have picked any state, any city, or it could be completely off the map, somewhere so remote that it would be impossible to find even with satellite imagery.
A soft knock at the door to the office steals my attention. Cindy peeks in hesitantly. “Sorry to interrupt.”
I sit up in the chair and turn around to face her. “No, it’s fine. Come in.”
As she walks in, she smiles briefly at me sitting in her husband’s chair before scanning her eyes across the papers and maps spread out on the desk with the laptop buried beneath them. She carries
a coffee mug with her, the steam rising from it enticingly. “I thought you could use some coffee, though I’m not sure where you’ll put it with all this.”
I gratefully accept the mug from her, holding it between my hands and absorbing its warmth as I take a few sips and make a place for it on the desk. “Thank you. This is just what I needed right now.”
“Good.” Cindy smiles and steps back, absorbing the view of the desk once more. It looks like she has a million questions. She’s on the verge of spilling them out, but she almost seems afraid to speak.
I can’t watch her stand there and not be concerned. “Are you okay?”
She nods slightly and takes a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m fine. It’s just…” She steps back another foot to the wall, putting her hands back to its surface and leaning against it. “What was it like all that time without your family? Back when you were with him.”
It’s hard not to show in my expression how much her question throws me off. It’s not really something I want to think about or answer, so I counter her question with another question. “You’re worried about what Morgan’s going through?”
She nods hesitantly. “I’m afraid she feels alone and unloved. I know you say this Jack person is with her and that he can be trusted, but that’s not like having family there with her. He’s not you, or me, or Robert. She doesn’t have us there to support her, and God only knows what Mark is doing to her on a daily basis.”
Tears start to fall down Cindy’s cheeks as she speaks, though overall she’s maintaining control of her emotions heroically given the nature of this conversation.
I try to give her a reassuring smile and reinforce it with words. “She knows we’re looking for her and that we’d be there for her if we could. Jack will take good care of her in our absence.”
I glance to the wall and catch a glimpse of a framed photo of the Whitford family smiling together on a beach. I don’t know why, but seeing Morgan so happy in that picture makes the raw honesty come out of me, for better or worse.
Beyond Revenge (The Ransom Series) Page 8