Read Megan's Cure Online

Authors: Robert B. Lowe

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Medical, #Thrillers

Megan's Cure (7 page)

BOOK: Megan's Cure
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Chapter 13

 
 

“SHE OKAY.
 
SHE say she okay,” said Billy
Kim.
 
This time, Mary Kim was looking Chief Davidson in the eye, nodding in agreement to what her cousin was saying.

 

Davidson was back at the square dining table in their trailer.
 
It was two days after his initial visit.
 
He had come to update Mary on the ongoing attempt to find her daughter.
 
He was embarrassed because he had little to tell her.
 
Megan and her abductor had simply vanished.

 

Now, they were telling him they had talked to Megan.
 
And they seemed almost unconcerned about her, as if she had gone to sleep over at a friend’s house instead of disappearing from a schoolyard after talking to a strange man no one could identify.

 

“She okay.
 
She okay,” said Mary Kim, nodding again and mimicking her cousin.
 

 

“Let me get this straight,” said Davidson.
 
“She called you, Billy, on your cell phone?”

 

Billy nodded.

 

“Where was she calling from?” said Davidson.
 
“What state?”

 

Billy looked at Mary.
 
He hesitated.
 
Finally, he said, “Tennessee.”

 

“Okay,” said Davidson.
 
“Now, tell me again exactly what she said.
 
Did she talk to you or Mary? ”

 

“Mostly Mary,” said Billy.
 
“I hand her the phone.”
 
He mimicked handing a telephone to Mary.
 
Billy said something in Chinese to Mary.
 
Mary answered back.

 

“She say…Megan say not to worry,” said Billy.
 
“She say she with good person.
 
He take care her.”

 


Who
is this guy?” said Davidson, getting irritated now.
 

Why
did she go with him?
 
Do
you
know him?
 
What the
hell
is all this about?”

 

The pair had another exchange.
 
Back and forth.
 
Again.

 

“We…we not know,” said Billy.
 
“She…Megan not tell us.
 
Just…just everything okay.
 
We not worry.
 
You not worry.
 
She be back…maybe in few days.”

 

Both Billy and Mary were looking away from him as Billy talked, unable to look Davidson in the eye.
 
He knew they weren’t telling him everything.
 
And, they were embarrassed at having to lie to him.
 
But whatever was going on, they didn’t seem truly worried about Megan anymore.
 
It was as if the matter was settled.
 
But why were they keeping something from him?
 
It didn’t make sense.

 

“Listen Billy…Mary,” said Davidson.
 
“You know I’m not the INS, right?
 
I don’t care about immigration status…how either of you got into this country.
 
I’m only worried about Megan.”

 

 
Bingo.
 
He saw Mary shift uncomfortably when he mentioned the INS.
 
The pair exchanged glances.
 
But if he thought he was being reassuring, Davidson now saw that just bringing up the topic of immigration had had the opposite effect.
 
They now sat in complete silence.
 
Interview over.
 

 

“Christ,” he thought to himself.
 
“Now, what do I do now?
 
What is this?
 
Kidnapping?
 
Child abduction?
 
False alarm?”

 

Davidson had been in touch with the FBI since the day of Megan’s disappearance.
 
That was new for him.
 
Coming from such a small department, he’d had little cause to talk to the feds in the past.
 
He knew they were supposed to get involved in kidnappings, but their reaction had been to ask him more and more questions.
 
It was as if they didn’t trust someone from a Podunk town to get anything right.

 

He wondered if their reaction would have been different if Megan came from a family of wealthy suburbanites?
 
They kept asking him if he was certain it was a kidnapping.
 
How did he know for sure?
 
Was there a note?
 
It was as if they were too busy and didn’t have time for this.
 
He got the impression if he found Megan dead in a ditch they’d be relieved.
 

 

“Murder?” the feds probably would say.
 
“Not our jurisdiction.”
 

 

Well, now he knew Megan had crossed over the Alabama state line.
 
She had been taken away in the middle of the school day by an unauthorized person who wasn’t a family member.
 
Davidson didn’t know much else.
 
Megan might have had the whole phone conversation with her mother while a gun was at her head.
 
He would try again to get the feds to take charge.
 
It was interstate now, not just a local matter anymore.
 
He couldn’t very well try to track her down in Tennessee.

 

Maybe someone else could let it drop.
 
Davidson knew he couldn’t.
 
The little girl was from his town. Her school was a half mile from the station.
 
If he did nothing and Megan turned up hurt – or even dead – he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.
 
He wouldn’t feel right until he saw Megan Kim back at home – safe.

 

When he got up to leave the trailer, Davidson gave Billy Kim a withering glare.
 
They were messing with him and he didn’t like it.
 
He puffed himself up to full size, which felt huge next to Billy who was the size of a scrawny teenager.
 
He wanted Billy to know this wasn’t over and Davidson wasn’t happy.
 

 

He snatched his notebook off the table and stomped out of the trailer and down the stairs without saying ‘goodbye’.
 
When he got to the cruiser, he turned around with his hand on the door handle for a last look.

 

The little kid was at the rail of the landing watching Davidson.
 
They stared at each other for a moment.
 
Then, the kid pulled down his diaper – it was one of those with elastic on the sides – until it slid down to his ankles.
 
He stood with his hands straight down, his face a still portrait of concentration.
 

 

Then, a pale yellow stream of urine shot out of his tiny penis and arced down, splashing on the red dirt four feet below him.

 

Both the kid and the police chief watched in fascination as the flow continued.
 
Davidson felt a pang of envy, realizing it now took him at least a full minute to empty his bladder and often an extremely slow 15 seconds just to get things started.
 
He often felt compelled to apologize to those waiting behind him in crowded restrooms.

 

The kid finished and pulled his diaper back into position.
 
He resumed his frantic work on the pacifier as he caught Davidson’s eye.
 
Then he turned and ran back into the trailer, slamming the door behind him.

 

Chapter 14

 
 

WHEN HE WAS a boy, Walter Novak visited his grandmother every summer.
 
With his mother and baby sister, they would make the long drive down I-95 from Philadelphia through Washington D.C. and Virginia until they reached North Carolina.

 

From there, they would head west, passing through Raleigh and then taking the smaller state highways through towns like Carthage and Troy.
 
Novak always wondered who had plucked the names from ancient Roman and Greek history and given them to these North Carolina towns.
 
Had this explorer left a Pompeii or a Babylonia somewhere behind him?

 

Finally, they arrived at Badin Lake, a reservoir an hour outside Charlotte.
 
He would know they were getting close just by the smell.
 
After leaving the main highway, they rolled down the windows and let in the scent of the pine forest mixed with the earthy aroma of leaves and debris rotting slowly into topsoil.

 

His grandmother’s lake house was an “A” frame with a steeply pitched roof and a wood balcony that sliced the façade in half.
 
Sliding glass doors on top offered a commanding view of the lake from the upper great room, an expansive wood-paneled space where he and his cousins had played games for hours.
 

 

A short walkway led from the house to the lake and a pier that ran out more than 200 feet.
 
In the summers, a waterskiing boat had been tied up at the end, usually next to a canoe or two.
 
Novak had learned to sail on the small Sunfish that was overloaded with more than two in it.
 
A red line painted across the pier near the end signaled where it was deep enough to safely dive into the lake.
 
Novak had launched thousands of human cannon ball jumps from that pier during his summer visits.

 

He wasn’t sure who technically owned the lake house now.
 
But, he knew the cousin who lived outside Charlotte and took care of it.
 
When Novak called him the night before he left California for New Orleans, his cousin was happy to let him borrow it for a week.
 
He gave Novak the combination for the lockbox that held the key.

 

The sun was setting when they arrived.
 
It only took a few minutes to move all their gear in as well as the groceries he’d purchased on the way in.
 
Novak could feel himself unwind as soon as he walked inside the house.
 
It felt like the first time in three days.
 
He knew it was the familiarity of the place where he had spent so many endless summer days when he was young.
 
He thought they would be safe here for a day or two.
 
They needed to rest.
 
He had to relax.
 
He needed time to think.

 

 
He unlocked the glass door and stepped out on the balcony overlooking the water.
 
The sun was a blazing red ball hovering over the horizon.
 
The glare from the water was blinding and they both used their hands to shade their eyes as they looked out.

 

“There should be canoes on the property somewhere,” he said, nodding toward the pier below them that was bare.
 
“Do you swim?”

 

“Yes,” said Megan disdain clear in her voice.
 
Novak wondered if the bit of attitude had anything to do with the fact that she was routinely trouncing him in their gin rummy games after two days.
 
He didn’t know.
 
Maybe it just came with all girls her age.
 
He knew little about kids.

 

He left her on the deck and went back inside to get working on their hamburgers.

 

His cousin had provided the information he needed to turn on the wireless Internet connection in the house.
 
When he had gone for Megan, his only plan had been to take her away from her home where he was certain she was in serious danger.
 
But now what?
 
He wasn’t even sure who was coming for her.
 
What were his next steps? He needed more information.

 

Who was hunting them and what resources did they have?
 
Did he need to fear the police who wouldn’t understand the danger and protect Megan?
 
He had watched for any news about Megan on the radio and in the newspapers he glanced at when they stopped for gas and meals.
 
Nothing.
 

 

He had to contact Roxanne at work and find out what had happened there.
 
Had they asked about him?
 
Maybe something in the databases at work could help him put more of the pieces together.
 
They might be watching for him to log into the computer system.
 
And they could be monitoring anyone who might help him.
 

 

No matter.
 
He had to chance it.
 
He couldn’t fly blind.
 
They couldn’t stay on the run forever.

 

Megan came back into the room.
 
She sniffed at the meat sizzling in the frying pan.
 
She was carrying a fishing pole.
 
It was a short one.
 
Maybe five feet long.

 

“Do you fish?” asked Novak suddenly remembering lazy summer afternoons drifting in a canoe a few yards from shore and waiting for the red and white floats to be pulled below the surface by a hungry catfish or small-mouthed bass.

 

Megan pointed the pole toward the far corner of the room, closed one eye and peered down it as if looking down the barrel of a rifle.

 

“My family,” she said.
 
“We are fishing experts.”

 
BOOK: Megan's Cure
4.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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