Vanished: A Beautiful Mess Series Novel

by T. K. Leigh

  Alexander hated to admit it, but Agent Moretti was right. The crowd was on the edge of their proverbial seats, hanging on to each and every word Olivia spoke. They were able to see bits of themselves in her. Those who were mothers nodded in agreement, wiping their own cheeks, unable to imagine being in her shoes.

  “I was so nervous. I worried I would mess up, wouldn’t know what to do. I remember staring into the car seat, which I wasn’t even sure we had installed correctly, at this tiny human who depended on me for everything. I couldn’t believe the hospital would just let us take her home without some sort of test.” She paused, allowing the crowd to respond with polite chuckles. “I didn’t know if I was up to the task of being a mother. Well, as it turns out…” She glanced at Alexander, then back at the crowd. “I was.”

  A small smile crossed her face. “I’ve achieved a lot during my time here on this planet. I graduated at the top of my class in college. I’ve traveled and seen the world. I helped start a fitness center where, to this day, we try to improve the lifestyles of thousands of people. But all of that pales in comparison to what I believe is my greatest accomplishment, and that’s being Melanie’s mom.”

  She opened a folder on the podium and took out a large 8x10 photo of Melanie. She was smiling wide, displaying a few missing teeth. Brown curls cascaded down her shoulders, framing her face.

  “This is Melanie Sarah Burnham,” Olivia said with a strong voice, cutting through the audience. “She loves dogs, pancakes, and the Red Sox. She still believes in Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny. For her birthday this year, she asked everyone invited to her party to bring unwrapped toys she could donate to kids less fortunate who have never received birthday presents. A girl after my own heart, she saved a fawn with a broken leg that was found on our property. After searching for its mother, to no avail, she cared for and nursed the fawn back to health before releasing it back into the wild. And this was when she was only six years old.

  “She wants to be a veterinarian when she grows up. Or president. Or an astronaut. It changes every day.” A slight laughing rippled through, and Alexander glanced down at the assembled crowd. Some had trouble keeping their own emotions at bay. Chins trembled, lips pinched together, unbridled tears escaped watery eyes.

  “Before I had a baby, I would hear reports of a missing child and feel a pang of sympathy for what the family was going through, but I would move on and forget the face and name when a different story came on. That all changed after I had Melanie. Whenever I heard any story involving a child, all I could think was, ‘What would I do if that were Melanie?’” She paused, gripping the podium as she closed her eyes, drawing in a slow breath.

  “Never in a million years did I think I would be up here, begging for the public’s help to bring my baby home,” she choked out. “We’ve become the story that, years ago, I would listen to, then forget.” She shook her head, her words barely audible through the lump in her throat. “This time, I can’t forget. I’m living a nightmare. Every second that passes, I lose another sliver of hope that we’ll find her. I beg you. Look at this face.” She held up the photo of Melanie again. “Memorize the eyes. The nose. The smile. Please, help bring our baby back home.”

  Sobs wracked through her as she buried her head in her hands, her body trembling. Alexander pulled her into his arms, wishing he could erase her pain, that he could turn back the clock and prevent this from happening. He held her close, not wanting to let her go, as photographers captured her very public breakdown with the intention of showing it on the five o’clock news just to score higher ratings. He wanted to rip those cameras out of their hands. He hated that the press could be so insensitive they’d want to capitalize on what would be one of the most difficult moments of a person’s life. The media couldn’t possibly fathom what they were currently going through. Alexander doubted any of them even had a spouse, let alone a daughter. This was just another job to them. Go listen to another poor family talk about their missing daughter and beg for the public’s help in finding her. All they cared about was taking enough photos and shooting enough footage to make the boss happy before it was time to clock out.

  Colleen approached, pulling Olivia into her arms and ushering her away. Alexander gave her an appreciative smile before turning to the vast collection of microphones set up on the podium, scanning the crowd for anything that appeared suspicious, an occupational habit.

  Moretti had stationed what he referred to as “plainclothes agents” amongst the crowd to keep an eye on everything. Alexander could pick his “undercover” agents out of a lineup, and not just because he recognized them from the briefing room prior to the press conference. They were dressed all in black and wore dark sunglasses, despite the relative lack of sun. They stood out like a baby in a bar at last call.

  Refocusing his attention on the reason he stood in front of this crowd of relative strangers, Alexander gave them a solemn smile. “When I was seven, I put bubblegum in my best friend’s hair. When I was ten, I broke the window in my bedroom and lied about it. When I was sixteen, I stole my father’s shiny new sports car and took a girl to the movies. I told her I was a sophomore in college, not a sophomore in high school. You can imagine the sting of her hand across my face when she found that out.” The crowd chuckled.

  “When I was twenty, I killed a man.” The audience grew silent, their former light expressions turning serious, intrigued. “I didn’t know his name. I didn’t know if he had a wife, a family. All I knew was I had been given orders and my job was to carry them through to the end.” His voice remained even, calm, unwavering, as if speaking of something as mundane as the weather.

  “I felt no guilt or remorse for what I did. It was necessary for the greater good…our freedom. I couldn’t tell you how many people I killed during my enlistment in the navy. I’ve made quite a few enemies over the past twenty years of my life. I’ve taken lives, destroyed families, all for what I thought to be a noble cause…ensuring our safety from foreign and domestic threats. Now, I fear that someone I’ve wronged has decided to get back at me the only way they know how…by hurting me where it counts.”

  He drew in a breath, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, he scanned the crowd, unable to make out any distinct faces through the camera lights and black dots obscuring his vision.

  “I wish I could stand here and tell you I’m a good person who doesn’t deserve this, but I can’t. I probably do deserve this…”

  Out of the corner of his eye, a short figure wearing a tattered overcoat caught his attention, a ghost of his past. Despite the faded Burberry scarf covering her signature red hair, he knew who it was this time. It wasn’t just someone who looked familiar. She had come back.

  It took everything he had not to jump off the platform and run to her. His gut shouted at him that she was the missing piece of this huge, convoluted puzzle he couldn’t put together.

  As she walked through the crowd, she kept her eyes downcast, only looking up every so often to avoid running into anyone. Most people barely even noticed her, and those who did seemed to turn their noses up in repulsion, as if she didn’t belong there.

  Alexander felt a nudge and snapped his head to his left, seeing Moretti furrowing his brow at him. He gave the agent a reassuring look and returned his attention to the crowd.

  “I may deserve this,” he continued, glancing at Moretti briefly, then facing front once more, “but Melanie doesn’t. Melanie is everything I’m not. She’s caring. Kind. She gives and gives until she has nothing left. I’ve woken up every day since she was born wondering what I did in my life to deserve a daughter as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. This morning, I’ve been forced to do quite a bit of soul-searching. I know I’m not a good man. I’ve done bad things for what I believed to be good reasons. I’ve ignored friends and family who needed me because I was too busy working. I’ve been selfish. But Melanie has done nothing wrong, apart from the unfortunate circumstance of having my DNA running thro
ugh her. If whoever took her did so because of something I’ve done, your issue is with me, not Melanie. Please…”

  He scanned the crowd, his eyes locking with Rayne’s. He felt compelled to speak directly to her for reasons he couldn’t quite explain.

  “It’s cold. It’s wet. They’re forecasting a Nor’easter to hit us tomorrow evening, dropping over a foot of snow. All I can think is that my little girl is somewhere out in the cold. I beg all of you. If you know anything that could help, no matter how small or insignificant you think it is, please call the tip line the FBI agent provided earlier. We can’t find Melanie without you.”

  Silence rang out as Alexander narrowed his gaze at Rayne. Peering into her haunting eyes, his suspicions mounted with every passing second that she might know something. Just as he opened his mouth to speak one last time, so did she, her voice strong and tenacious, at complete odds with the frail and broken woman looking back at him.

  “I took her!”

  Everyone turned toward her, photographers snapping photos incessantly as FBI agents sprang into action. Rayne straightened her back, her chin held high, paying no attention to the commotion around her.

  Alexander glanced at Olivia, who seemed just as surprised as he did, despite her earlier speculation. They never expected someone they considered to be almost family at one time to do something so harmful, so hateful, so devastating. Rayne, of all people, should have understood how soul-wrenching and torturous it was to be in a state of constant purgatory, not knowing whether or not your loved one was still alive, every minute that passed with no answers another coal on the fire.

  “Rayne?” Alexander asked, his voice almost inaudible as he stepped away from the podium. “Why did you take her? Where is she?”

  “I thought it was the only way!” Rayne answered, her voice frantic. Her eyes grew wide, her expression agitated. There was a wildness about her that was completely at odds with the calm, lively woman Alexander remembered her to be when she was still part of their lives.

  “What do you mean?” He stepped toward the stairs, hearing Moretti issuing orders to his agents in the crowd who were having difficulty reaching her through the blockade of reporters and their equipment.

  Shaking her head violently, she let out a loud sob. “I’ve been so angry and it just hurt too much. It took finally meeting someone who had been hurt like me to realize that this needed to happen, that you needed to feel my pain, too! I can’t—”

  With a flash, a deafening boom filled the air, a brilliant blaze rushing over the crowd before everything went dark.

  Part Two

  Honor

  Honor: /noun/ Chastity or purity in a woman.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Three Years Ago

  “I CAN ASSURE YOU, gentlemen,” Alexander said to the two men clad in dark suits sitting across from him. “I am personally involved in every job the company takes on. Even though I may assign another highly-trained agent to oversee the operation, I always make sure I’m fully apprised of all the details, regardless of how small.” He smiled his million-dollar smile at them.

  This was the part of owning the private security firm Alexander loathed…wining and dining potential and current clients. He had seen his father in action over the years, always the charmer. The man had loved the satisfaction of knowing he could land a multi-million dollar contract, then plan some sort of clandestine operation that would go off without a hitch…all before he had his morning coffee. Because of his father’s training and tenacity, the company he built was the most well-respected and sought-after private security firm in the country, if not the world. Alexander had agents on various assignments in practically every state and across the globe…some for private individuals, others as government military contractors. He had hoped the days of the hard sell would be behind him. He didn’t feel the need to sit here and give the same sales pitch these guys had probably heard over and over again. The company’s record spoke for itself.

  “And that’s why we always come to you first, Mr. Burnham,” one of the men answered. “With your brother taking on a leadership role within the company, we just want to make sure nothing’s changed. No offense, but he doesn’t exactly have the same background as you or your father.”

  “That may be true.” Alexander took the tumbler in his hand, bringing the expensive scotch to his lips. If he had to sit and give these men the same song and dance, at least he could reward himself for his pain and suffering with some good scotch. “But I can assure you, even though Tyler may not have been a SEAL, like me, or an operative for the CIA, like my old man, he still has a military background. He may not have run the beaches of Coronado, but there’s no one else I’d trust to help run my father’s company. Even though I have men with that specialized training it appears you think necessary who have been working for the firm for decades, I still value my brother’s skill set above them. He has something the military can’t teach you. A great instinct.”

  “We didn’t mean any offense,” the other gentleman said.

  “None taken.”

  “We just aren’t too familiar with your brother.”

  “And you weren’t familiar with me, either, when I took over the company after my father’s death, yet here you still are, even thirteen years later.”

  “That may be true; however—”

  “Gentlemen, I hope you don’t think it rude of me to say, but—” A buzzing on the table interrupted him. He glanced at his phone to see a blocked call coming through. Returning his attention to the two men who were his father’s first clients when he started the company, Alexander continued. “I have ten-figure contracts with the U.S. government. Your fifty thousand dollar job isn’t going to make sure I can pay my employees for one more day. I’ll forever be grateful to you for taking a chance on my father and his vision, but you know damn well there’s no one who will do a better job. You can stop with all these baseless concerns and just let us handle your security detail like we always have, or you can go find someone else and hope they’ll provide the same services for that small of a fee.” His gaze burned through them. “I’ll let you talk it over while I take this call.”

  He got up from the table and stepped away. Rubbing his temples, he headed into the bar area of the restaurant and took a breath.

  “Burnham here,” he answered, keeping his eyes trained on the men at the table. While what he said was true, that this contract was small peanuts compared to most of the jobs the company had been hired on, Alexander didn’t want to lose them as clients. He wanted people to still respect the company, even with his brother joining him at the helm.

  “Alex,” a voice practically shouted from what sounded like a construction zone. The connection was sketchy, the banging of hammers amplified over everything else.

  “Who’s this?” he asked, covering his free ear to try to hear better.

  “It’s Landon.”

  “Landon?” He shook his head, as if he were imagining things. “I thought you were overseas. I ran into Rayne a few weeks back and she said she wasn’t expecting you home for at least four more months.”

  “I am,” he replied, then paused.

  Alexander sensed something had to be wrong if Landon called him out of the blue like this. They hadn’t spoken in months, maybe even a year. Alexander knew how difficult it was to find time to make a call while on deployment, particularly if Landon was on a classified mission, which he probably was, considering he was still on active duty with the SEALs. Whatever the reason for the phone call, Alexander had a feeling it was important.

  “I need your help.”

  “My help?” Alexander raised his eyebrows, intrigued.

  “I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important,” Landon declared in a hurried tone. “There’s this girl—”

  “A girl?” He couldn’t mask his disbelief. “You call me after we haven’t spoken in who knows how long to talk about a girl? What’s going on in…wherever you are?”

  “It’s not what
you think. It’s just…” There was a heavy sigh. “We need to do something about what’s happening.” His tone was frantic, the urgency with which he spoke increasing with each word. “There’s just so many of them. For every one reported, there are at least a hundred who go unreported.”

  Alexander listened, his mind spinning. He scanned the restaurant, but he wasn’t really paying attention to his surroundings. For all he knew, he could have been right next to Landon. He had known him since they reported to BUD/S training. They connected immediately. Being put through the most rigorous mental and physical training did that. There were times they both wanted to quit, but they refused to let each other ring that bell. In the field, they had run operations together seamlessly. Alexander could always tell just by looking at him or listening to the tone of his voice when something was serious. This was another one of those times.

  “Slow down, buddy. You’re not making any sense. What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve tried to get the military to do something about it, but they keep saying the rules of engagement forbid us from intervening.”

  “And the same would apply to me as a government contractor, so I—”

  “Your company has provided security and staff for shelters and refugee camps in the past, right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I’ll take the job,” Landon interrupted.

  “What?”

  “Every time we talk, you keep begging me to leave the navy and come work for you. If you do this for me, you have my word. I’ll go into the reserves, effective immediately, and work for you. Hell, I’ll even spearhead this.”

  “Spearhead what exactly? What precisely are you asking me to commit my company to?”