Lost (32 page)

“Walter, I don’t know what’s gotten into
you! But I like it!” Cindy reached over and took her husband’s hand.

For almost
three years, his wife had hinted that she would love a pair of diamond
earrings. The ones he could afford were tiny, and his wife deserved more.
Walter didn’t like to think of himself as cheap. He
was
frugal, careful
with his money. If something happened to him, he didn’t want his wife saddled
with debt. But now—

He shook the
thought out of his head, and watched his wife admire herself in the store
window. He’d made love to his wife right there in their kitchen. He kissed her
like her love could sustain him, and then he’d told her to get cleaned up. He
had a surprise for her.

When he drove
into Miller’s Crossing and parked, she’d just looked at him. He hated shopping,
but he was a man on a mission. He went right into the jewelry store and picked
out a pair of two carat diamond earrings. Each stud was one beautiful, flawless
carat. Cindy had just stared at him, but he took out his “emergency” credit
card, handed it to the clerk, took the tiny beribboned bag she handed him and
gave it to his wife.

“I should have
bought these for you a long time ago,” he told her.

She wordlessly
took the bag and tore through the tissue paper. She lifted out the small box
and opened it up. She inhaled deeply and brought her hand to her mouth.

“Oh, Walt.
They’re beautiful.” She asked him to hold the bag, and she put them on right
there as they stood on the sidewalk.

They aren’t
half as beautiful as you
,
Walt thought to himself. And they weren’t.

His wife was a
fourth grade teacher, and she loved to regale him with stories of her students.
They would laugh over their tiny dining room table, each one silently sad that
they didn’t have children of their own to share the laughter with. Over the
years, they’d talked about adoption, but for some reason, they’d just never
pursued it. Now, more than anything, Walt wished Cindy had someone. He wished
that he could have given her a piece of himself, so if something happened to
him, she wouldn’t be alone. They were still young enough to adopt from some
other countries. If he came home, maybe he would ask her if she wanted to
pursue it.

But for now, he
looked at his wife. He saw the sparkle in her soft hazel eyes, her trim body,
and easy ways. Whatever happened, he would remember this moment. He would
remember her smile and the feel of her hands on his face as she kissed him.

“Come on,
handsome. Let’s go get some lunch.” She put her arm through his, and they
walked off to find something to eat.

“Dad! You suck!” Nathan laughed as Ethan
missed any ball that was shot at his face.

“These balls
are coming awfully fast.” He swung and missed again.

Nathan laughed,
and Ethan committed each of his son’s features to memory.

“How much
longer are we gonna do this?” Ethan swung and connected this time.

“Last time. Now
concentrate, Dad!”

Nathan had
asked to go to the batting cages. Ethan knew that on the field was one place
his son felt confident. The early teen years were no fun—Ethan remembered that
much. And he was glad the boy felt at home some place. For Ethan, that
confidence hadn’t come until much later—the first time he’d put on his uniform.

And here he was
plotting what could very well be a suicide mission. He hoped with everything he
was that he would be at his son’s 15th birthday in September.

He wanted to
savor the moment, but he also knew if he and Walter had any chance of
surviving, he had to get ready.

Ethan’s turn at
bat was up, and he stood tall for a moment. He sensed something was in the air.
He could feel it, and it wasn’t good. He knew it, just as sure as he knew he
loved his son.

Tonight, the
shit’s gonna hit the fan.

He had to feed. He was hungry, and that
hunger was making him weak. The Woman was coming. He could sense it, he could
feel it, and he needed to be ready.

The movie was
still playing in his mind, but the images were starting to come together. He
had remembered the boy’s name, and he clung to that. It was proof that he
belonged with her and these children.

But first, The
Woman had to be dealt with. He wasn’t a killer. He knew that much. He wasn’t
like her, but if he had to, he had decided that he would kill The Woman.

Or if it came
to it, he would die trying to protect the family.

“Sit!” I fussed at Maggie. Her hair was
a tangled mess, and I was trying to comb it after her shower.

Jessie’s hair
was already clean and braided, courtesy of Karie. Karie was getting dressed.
Jessie was sitting on her bunk, looking at one of Karie’s
Glamour
magazines.
And here I was.

Maggie was on
the floor, and I was sitting in one of the small chairs that belonged with the
little table I had found for the girls’ room. She kept trying to edge away,
anxious to get dressed and head out to the carnival.

“Mommy! Who
cares? I can just wear a hat,” Maggie fussed at me.

“Margaret
Klevan!” I pulled out her real name, and she immediately stilled, knowing I
only did that when I was really annoyed. “Sit! Your hair is a tangled mess, and
it’s only going to get worse if you wear a hat. So sit down for five minutes,
and let me comb your hair!”

“Okay, Mommy.
Sorry.” And she sat still.

I could see
Jessie’s shoulders shaking with laughter, and I cleared my throat. She looked
up, and I pointed the comb at her and raised my eyebrow. She stopped laughing.

“Oh… Karie, you
look pretty,” Jessie told her. Anything the older girl did was met with awe
from Jessie. She adored Karie and never missed a chance to tell her.

“Thanks.” Karie
smiled at Jessie.

And Karie did
look very pretty. She had long hair that Bee straightened for her a few times a
year, and she had pulled it back into a low ponytail. She had on a pair of
bright yellow shorts that I’m pretty sure only she and her mother could pull
off. She’d paired a pretty, green, sleeveless blouse with it. I would have
looked like a leprechaun, but on Karie it looked high fashion. No wonder Jessie
looked up to her.

“You ready?”
Karie asked Jessie.

Jessie bounced
off the bed, looking cute in her navy shorts and white sleeveless blouse,
similar to the one Karie wore.

“Mommy, hurry!”
Maggie pleaded with me, afraid they would leave her.

“See. That’s
what you get. Now everyone’s waiting on you.” I had just about combed out the
rat’s nest in the back of her head. “And there! Now get dressed.”

I had laid out
a pair of shorts and a T-shirt for her, and she shimmied into them. “Can I wear
my Crocs?”

“Sure.” I’m
sure Jessie wouldn’t approve. “They’re downstairs.”

She ran off.

I put the brush
back on the table and leaned back.

KIDS!

“This is your last chance,” Ethan told
his friend, as they once again sat in the back of Flo’s Diner.

Ethan had
dropped off Nathan and gone home to change. He put on a pair of old, broken-in
jeans and a black T-shirt. He wanted to be able to move quickly if needed. A
pair of reliable cross trainers completed the look. He’d hugged his son tightly
as he dropped him off, and Nathan did the same. He knew his dad, and he knew
that he wasn’t going to get any further details, so he accepted the hug and
waved good-bye to his father as he ran inside.

Walt had
enjoyed a wonderful lunch with his wife. They’d ordered a bottle of wine, and
he brought up the subject of adoption. She asked him if he was sure, and he
said that if she wanted to adopt, he would do anything he had to do to make it
happen for her. Tears filled her eyes, and he prayed there was nothing else to
them. He prayed she was simply happy that perhaps their dream of having a child
would come true. He hoped with all he was that she didn’t know what he and
Ethan were about to do.

And there, in
Flo’s Diner, Walt and his best friend of more than two decades were sitting,
plotting.

“Shut up.” Walt
was firm. “I should be at their lake house in about 45 minutes. I’ll call when
I get there.”

“Promise me
you’ll be careful.” Ethan looked at his friend. “Don’t be stupid. If you see
something, call, and then call the local PD if needed.”

“Same goes to
you, my friend. Don’t be a hero.”

Two old
friends—they’d seen a lot together, done a lot together. They ate their burgers
in silence. They were as ready as they could be. After they paid the check and
walked outside, Ethan grabbed Walter by the arm.

“Stay home,” he
told his old friend.

Walter searched
Ethan’s face, saw the fear, and held fast. “No. It’s you and me.
We’re
gonna do this.”

Ethan dropped
his hand from Walter’s arm and ran his hands over his face. “And what if I’m
wrong? What then? What if this is all just some crazy animal shit? What if I’ve
lost it?”

Walter smiled a
sad smile and said, “I trust you. I trust your gut. You’ve gotten us out of
more trouble just because you listened to it. If she doesn’t show up tonight,
we’ll go back tomorrow, and the next night and the next. We’re right, Ethan.
You know we are.”

Ethan gave
Walter an equally sad smile. “That’s the longest speech you’ve ever made. You
know that?”

Walter just
shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. See you soon.”

Ethan prayed
Walter was right.

“Just eat something
here
,” I told
the kids. “Carnival food is nasty.”

“Mom, sorry…
you are so wrong,” Carey told me.

“But I have
corn dogs here! I bought some at the store the other day.”

“You can’t
compete with a carnival corn dog, Mrs. J,” Ant told me.

“Fine! If you
guys get belly aches, I don’t want to hear it. And if you puke on one of those
rides… same thing.”

I gave Sam the
money I got for them, and he put it in his wallet.

“I don’t like
leaving you here alone, Mom—especially without a car.” Sam looked concerned.

The kids had
been trying to get me to come with them for the past 10 minutes.

“I’ll be fine.
I want to get the coleslaw shredded and make the vinaigrette. Then I’m just
going to watch some TV and relax. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure? You
should come with us, Mom. It’ll be fun.” Sam tried one more time.

“Sam. Go. I’m
fine. What’s gonna happen?”

Ethan sat in his beat up, old Chevy
truck and watched the Klevan house. So far, all was quiet. He popped the tab on
his Diet Coke. And then something happened. The air shifted. Birds and bugs had
been buzzing, and now nothing. He sat up, putting the soda in the drink holder.

He rolled up
his window and got out of the truck. The air was heavy, and despite it being a
warm night, Ethan shivered.

When he was
younger, his dad would come home drunk once in awhile. His mom would put him to
bed and tell him to stay in his room, and then she would lock the door on her
way out. Ethan could feel the anger—a cloud of evil seemed to settle over the
house. He would hear his dad yelling and his mom crying as the slaps rang out.
Ethan would cover his ears with his pillow, praying that his dad would just go
away.

He felt that
same evil as he stepped out of the truck. It seemed just a little bit darker
outside, and the air a little more pungent. And the silence was deafening.

He crept up the
driveway and crouched low. He looked around and ran for the side of the house.
He peeked in the window and could see much of the first floor. It was dark. He
saw only stillness. He watched for a moment, praying he was wrong. He prayed,
for just a moment, that maybe he was insane, maybe all of this was just his
imagination—that whoever broke into this family’s house was just some kid.

“Deep breath,
Ethan,” he coached himself. “Deep breath.”

And suddenly,
the back door just vanished.

He blinked.
Still no door. Moonlight filtered in from the hole the ruined door created, and
he strained to see. The kitchen counter blocked part of his view, but not
enough that he didn’t see her step into the kitchen.

Ethan would
never forget that face.

Her hair was
shorter now, cut into what he knew was a stylish bob—Melissa had the same hair
cut. And her eyes still glowed silver. She looked around, and he was once again
struck by her beauty.

And yet, he’d
seen what she was, what she could do, and he didn’t let it sway him. She was
out of breath, he could see her chest rise and fall, and the anger emanating
from her was palpable, real. He said a silent prayer, and then crept around the
back.