by James Hunt
It was hard to tell her first reaction when she finally saw him. Neither party moved for a moment, and it was Kelly who took the first step forward. She crossed her arms as she approached and wiped her nose on her shoulder. Once they were finally within a foot of one another she looked everywhere but his face. “What are you doing here?”
Jake removed his hat, giving his hands something to do. “Lost a deputy today at Lena’s house. Kaley was taken.”
The guarded reserve slowly melted. “Oh my God.” Kelly shook her head, pressing her palm into her forehead. “This is unbelievable. First Reese, now this?” A thick wad of phlegm rattled her nose when she took a sharp breath. Her face scrunched up in the anticipation of grief, but it was short lived. “I’ve tried calling you.” She scuffed the floor with her shoe, her head down.
Another hospital worker walked past, and Jake looked around. The hallway was growing busier, so he pulled her into a separate room and shut the door. The empty hospital bed and quiet of the room allowed both of them to speak their minds freely. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. It’s been a little busy lately.” That wasn’t the truth, but now wasn’t the time to say it. Despite the grief she was experiencing, he knew that deep down Kelly had already started planning their wedding together, a life the two of them would share, their kids’ names, but he never wanted any of that. Not with her at least. “I have Longwood working Reese’s case, and he’ll be reaching out to you soon if he hasn’t already.”
“He called this morning.” Kelly wiped her cheek. “To tell me about the body.” Jake’s silent gaze triggered another response. “I didn’t tell him anything about us. I haven’t told anyone.” The words were stale with resentment.
“I didn’t think you would.” Though Jake suppressed the sigh of relief. “Do you remember anything different about him the days before he disappeared, anything he might have said or done?”
Kelly shook her head, shrugging. “Nothing out of the ordinary. He complained about the overtime, how sore he was.”
“Did he ever mention anyone he worked with? Anything else he was doing for the oil company?”
“Longwood already asked me all this stuff.” Kelly waved her hands and took a step back, irritated. “There wasn’t anything he was doing that wasn’t… Reese.” She slowly circled and then rested her back against the wall. Her head hung low between her shoulders, and her eyes were closed. But when she lifted her head the lines on her forehead creased. “He smelled different.”
“What do you mean?” Jake asked.
“I mean he’d always smelled bad when he came home. All oil and sweat. But it was different the last time I saw him. It was a harsher smell. Like he’d bathed himself in chemicals.” Kelly fisted the tissues. “He talked a lot of shit about his boss. Some new hard-ass they appointed rig manager. Reese said he didn’t have any business on the rig, but that it was above his pay grade.”
“Scott Ambers?” Jake asked.
“Yeah, that was him.”
The bastard just keeps turning up like a bad penny. Jake nodded absentmindedly and then approached her with her back still against the wall. “Look, we need to keep our distance for a while. You need to process what’s happened, and I need to focus on finding my niece.”
Fresh tears rolled down her face. “I can’t do this, Jake.” Her shoulders shook, and she buried her nose in the cluster of tissues. “Somebody killed my husband. The same husband I’ve been cheating on for the last four months. I mean just look at me. I’m a fucking mess.” And without a word she buried her face into his chest, wrapping her arms around him.
At first Jake didn’t reciprocate the embrace, but the longer she lingered, the more his resolve eroded. He placed his arms around her and when she looked up at him the tears had disappeared, but her cheeks were still wet. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled his mouth toward hers.
It was only for a moment, but the moment was too long. Jake pulled back. “Christ, Kelly.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and that was all it took for her to break down.
Kelly reached for the door but turned around before she left. “Go to hell, Jake!”
The door slammed and a rush of wind blasted Jake in the face. He didn’t know why he followed her in such a hurry, but when he stepped into the hallway calling after her he was pissed that he did. “Kelly, I—”
Deputy Longwood was at the morgue door, and Kelly had already jogged to the end of the hall and burst out through the double doors. Longwood did a double take at Kelly’s exit then turned back to Jake. “Everything okay, Sheriff?”
A flush of heat spread in Jake’s chest and crawled up his neck. “Fine. You going to take another look at the Coleman body?” He hoped the switch to work chat would end any suspicions, but Longwood wouldn’t drop it.
“What were you speaking to Kelly about?”
“She was upset about her husband is all.” Jake pointed to the morgue door and started his exit down the hallway. “Let me know what you find, Deputy.” When Jake walked into the parking lot and climbed behind the wheel of his truck he punched the dash in three quick jabs. His hand throbbed, and he started the car, hoping Kelly could keep quiet long enough for him to clean his mess up.
13
32 Hours Left
Ken adjusted his tie in the mirror of his office. His face was still flush, and the makeup artist had done what she could to hide the cut from Lena’s assault, but it was still visible. He brushed his fingers through his thick head of hair when his eyes caught Scott in the edge of the mirror. He sat in the corner, looking up toward the only window the portable provided. His phone buzzed, and he pressed it to his ear. He held it there for a moment, and then without a word he lowered it. What he was still doing here for the press conference, Ken didn’t know, but his presence didn’t help to ease the bundle of nerves still tangled in the pit of his stomach.
The tie refused to cooperate, and Ken yanked it off in frustration. “Could I have a minute, please?” Without a word the man lumbered to the door and left, which momentarily let in the dull roar of the press corps outside.
Ken crumpled the tie in his fist and closed his eyes. He felt his left hand shaking. He closed his eyes and took a breath. When he opened his eyes his hand steadied. Slowly, he wrapped the tie around his neck once more. With his tie complete he took one more slow breath, and reached for the door handle. “Here we go.”
Sunlight and camera flashes blasted his vision as he descended the portable’s steps and made his way to the podium, which sprouted a half-dozen microphones. “Good afternoon. I’ll start off with a brief statement, and then we can move on to questions.” He cleared his throat and quickly glanced down at the paper. It was already memorized, but he needed the extra moment to steady his thoughts. “New Energy Incorporated is deeply saddened by the events that transpired last night. It is the foundation of our company’s beliefs that the will of the people be heard, but it must come in the form of peaceful demonstrations and engaging political debate. New Energy in absolutely no way condoned any of the rioting last night by those who opposed or were unhappy with the results of the vote regarding bill forty-five C. With the violence that consumed Barta, one thing is clear: the people do not want this legislation to pass. New Energy remains steadfast in our stance to ensure those voices that oppose this bill are heard.”
Ken cleared his throat again. “And we would like to extend our deepest condolences to State Representative Lena Hayes in the disappearance of her daughter. Whoever is behind this atrocity should turn themselves in, and New Energy Incorporated will do everything within our power to aid law enforcement for the quick and speedy recovery of that young girl. Thank you. I’ll now take questions.”
Hands shot in the air along with a roar of shouts as the reporters jockeyed for attention. Ken pointed to a balding man in a shirt and tie. “Does New Energy have a comment on the body of Reese Coleman, who was found on your property just hours before the vote?”
“Because the investig
ation into Mr. Coleman’s death is ongoing, we are not allowed to comment on that issue at this time. We’re doing everything we can to help Sheriff Cooley and his department and will follow their lead on how they would like us to approach the matter publicly. Yes, you in the front.”
The woman wore a white blouse with a blue blazer. Her bright-red nails accentuated her grip on the recorder in her hand. “The bill still has to pass the state assembly and be signed into law by the governor, who has already publicly supported the bill. Has New Energy reached out to any of the remaining state legislators?”
“We’re committed to, just as we have always been committed to, the advancement of this state through economic development and working with local community leaders to better the lives of their citizens. We still believe that this bill will hinder those relationships and stunt this state’s growth to a crawl. In regards to what the governor and the other state legislators will do, it is up to them and their constituents.”
Ken fielded at least a dozen more questions, and with every answer he felt more comfortable back on the main stage. The job fit him like an old glove, his fingers stretching out the material that had grown snug after years in mothballs. And the ease in which he slid back into the role made him sick. “That’s all the time I have, but again I just want to encourage everyone to do what they can to help find Kaley Hayes so she’s returned to her family safely and quickly. Thank you.”
Ken ducked back into the portable, and security handled the press’s departure. The moment the door closed he ripped the tie from his neck and flung it on the ground. He unbuttoned his collar and let the heat from the afternoon sun escape from inside his shirt. He reached for the trash can and hunched over, dry heaving.
Eventually vomit flooded his mouth, and he tossed what was left of the small breakfast he’d eaten that morning. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and collapsed into his chair at the desk. Lies always tasted the same, no matter how hard he tried to spin them, though he didn’t remember it being this hard.
The picture of his wife and son faced him, and he reached for it, clutching the frame tightly as he saw his reflection in the glass over their faces. The sight gave him a surge of strength, which he needed the moment Scott walked in.
“Press is packing up.” Scott pointed to Ken’s attire. “You’ll want to change.”
“I’ll be out in a minute.” Wordlessly, Scott returned outside, and Ken set the picture of his family back on his desk. He rubbed his fingers together. They were slick with sweat, and whatever Scott Ambers had planned for him was sure to make them dirty.
News crews dotted the side of the street, clustering at both Lena’s office and the police station. Amidst the cameras and reporters were construction crews and National Guard soldiers called in to help keep the peace. Lena watched a soldier on the back of a Humvee, where he was stationed behind one of the big guns she’d only seen in television and the movies.
The pair of squad cars that escorted both her and Mark into town flashed their lights and honked their sirens whenever the swarming locusts of news crews crossed their path, but the reporters barked their questions through the glass, their arms and hands smacking into the side of the police cruiser as their cameramen tried to capture a clip of Lena’s face.
Brakes squealed as the car came to a stop, and the officers stepped out of the car, clearing a path toward Lena’s front office door, which was surrounded by clusters of bullet holes from the riots the day before as well as the assassination attempt two of the oil workers nearly pulled off before the vote on her bill.
Lena drew in a breath before one of the deputies opened her car door, and when she stepped out the muffled questions of the reporters turned into a deafening roar.
“Mrs. Hayes, do you believe that your daughter’s abduction has to do with your involvement in the bill that was passed last night?”
“What demands has the kidnapper made?”
“What’s going through your mind at this moment?”
“Are there any new leads in your daughter’s case?”
“What would you tell the person who took your daughter if they were here right now?”
Lena stopped. She turned to the reporter who’d asked the last question, his microphone extended away from his body as far as his arm would reach, bending over the police line that was set around her office door. A quiet hush fell over the crowd, and Lena took a step forward, her eyes locked onto the reporter who’d spoken up. “My daughter is innocent in all of this. I will find her. And I will take whatever measures are needed to make that happen.”
A brief silence followed, interrupted only by the quick snap of pictures, but the moment Lena pivoted back to her path to the office, the dam burst, and every reporter restarted the machine-gunfire pace of questions.
Once inside, Janine, Lena’s assistant, wrapped her arms around Lena, squeezing tight. “How are you holding up?” She pulled back, her large brown doe eyes expressing genuine concern.
“I’m fine.” Lena brushed a few strands of hair that had broken free from her ponytail out of her face. “Have all of the families arrived?”
Janine nodded. “Most of them. I have them set up in the second office.”
“Give me a minute, and I’ll be in shortly.” Lena forced a smile, which seemed to ease Janine’s distress, and the assistant disappeared. Mark lingered by the door, and Lena walked over to the boxes of old case files from the suit against New Energy. Those stacks represented two years of her life, and it made her think of what Mark had said. “I know how hard it was for you.” She turned around to look at him. “You were practically a single parent for the past two years.”
Mark arched his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side. “I may have over exaggerated a few things.” He smirked, the laugh lines of his face crinkling, and it made her feel better. He twirled the gold band of his wedding ring as he walked over. He kept his head down until he was less than an inch away, so close she could feel him without actually touching him. “What you’ve done, and whatever you choose to do, has always been the right thing.” He lifted his head, his eyes red and glassy. “There isn’t anyone that could have fought against those people for so long and gotten this far.”
When he kissed her the crowd of families in the other room was the farthest thing from her mind. She reciprocated the kiss and pressed fiercely into his lips then rested her cheek on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about before.”
“Me too.” Mark gently squeezed the back of her neck and then kissed her forehead. He stepped away, slowly, heading toward the back room to where Janine had disappeared. “I’ll be in there waiting for you when you’re ready.”
Once he was gone Lena turned back to the boxes stacked near her desk. She opened one and removed one of the dozens of files inside. She flipped to the section that outlined the medical conditions of the children that had grown ill. Liver failure, heart congestion, weakening immune system, immediate transplant needed for patient survival. Lena set it aside and opened the next file, which was more of the same, as was the file below that one, and the next one, all the way to the box’s bottom.
In the next room were the faces to all of that paperwork, faces that Lena had promised justice to. She wasn’t sure if they’d understand as parents—if she were in their position she wasn’t sure if she’d understand herself. But hypotheticals weren’t going to bring Kaley back.
After a long deep breath, Lena opened the door into the next room, where every face turned to her in silent anticipation. The sullen faces of the mothers and fathers parted as Lena stepped through to the other side of the office. A few hands grazed her arm in condolence as she passed, but no words were spoken.
Dark circles pulled tired faces down like anchors. Countless nights in hospital chairs with the sight of their sick kids had caused lines of stress and made them weary, tired, and beaten. The win from the vote last night was the first piece of good news that any of them had received since before their children were diagno
sed. And what she was about to tell them would smother that small piece of hope before it even had a chance to thaw the pain that had frozen them for the past two years.
“Thank you all for coming.” Lena’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “I know it was short notice, and I understand that each of you have your own issues to deal with, but I wanted you to hear this from me personally.”
“We’re praying for you, Lena.” Katie Speath raised her head, her once-brown hair turned gray, and her cheeks weathered and gaunt well beyond her forty years. “And for Kaley.” A series of nods and soft hums echoed her sentiment.
Guilt made Lena’s stomach churn, and she bowed her head. “I appreciate that.” She lowered her eyes and saw the dirt at the tip of her boots. The sight triggered a flash of the kidnapper’s footprints in her house. “And it’s one of the reasons that I called everyone in here today.”
Color drained from Lena’s cheeks as she lifted her head. Her knees wanted to buckle, but she managed to stay upright, using the desk to her right for support. “I know how much all of you sacrificed to help get me elected, and I want you to understand how much respect and admiration I have for each of you.” Her mouth went dry, as if a piece of cotton had rolled on her tongue. When she swallowed it was hard and gritty.
The dozens of bodies in her office shifted uneasily now. Arms crossed over chests protectively, and the once-softened expressions of condolence had shifted into hard stares of treachery.
“Whoever took my daughter left behind a note with demands. It said that if I wanted Kaley back, then I’d have to end my support for the oil regulation bill in the next thirty-six hours. If I don’t, they’re going to kill her.” Lena’s voice wavered, and she pressed her leg harder into the side of the desk for support, bracing for the inevitable backlash.
Her years as a lawyer, but even more so her years as an addict, taught her that people were fine about “feeling” a certain way about someone until the moment that feeling turned into something real, something that affected their life in a material way, then self-preservation took over.