Midnight Before Christmas (4 page)

“What was that? What did you say?”

Tommy shrugged. “One of the kids at school has a Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter. With the Super-Explosive Power Pack. You know, like on the TV show.”

“Oh, right,” Carl feigned. “Like on the show.”

“’Course, that’s Corey Chambers. He has everything.”

“Oh. I thought you had everything.”

Tommy shrugged. “Not like Corey Chambers does.”

Carl smiled sympathetically. The kid was talking to him!

They stepped up on the curb. A would-be Santa stood in front of the entrance, ringing his bell and trying to persuade shoppers to toss their spare change into his big red cauldron. Carl brushed by him quickly. He didn’t have any change to spare. The two electronic-eye doors slid open and he and Tommy entered the store.

Or tried, anyway. The place was jam-packed, so much so that they could barely make their way through the entry.

“What’s going on here?” Carl said.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Tommy explained.

“I know, but …” Carl tried to push his way forward, without much success. It was a madhouse. Bodies, carts, strollers blocked the aisles. People were tearing items off the shelves. Desperate expressions were plastered on the faces of adults as they struggled to reach the items they needed. There was kicking and shoving and a frequent exchange of very un-Christmas-like remarks. Pure pandemonium.

Tommy frowned. “We’ll never get a Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter. Let’s get out of here.”

“I’m not giving up that easily.” Carl pushed his way forward, knocking people out of the way, while Tommy trailed behind in his wake. Someone shoved up against him on the right, sending a shock wave of pain through his body, reminding him that the wound on his arm had still not been treated.

He grabbed the first person he saw wearing a Toys
“R”
Us name tag:
CHERRI.
She looked to be about fifteen. “Can you help me?”

“I’ll try, sir,” Cherri said, but her tone suggested that she was unlikely to put a lot of effort into the attempt. “What are you looking for?”

“We need a Mighty—Mighty—” He looked down. “What is it again, son?”

“Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter,” Tommy mumbled.

“That’s it. We need a Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter. The best one you’ve got.”

Cherri’s lips turned up at both ends and she began to laugh. “I’ll bet you would,” she said, laughing all the more. “You and everyone else in this store.”

“You mean you don’t have one? What kind of toy store is this?”

“Sir, the Dino-Fighter is the hit toy of the season. Everyone wants one, and we haven’t had any since early November. We don’t expect to have any until late January.”

“But that doesn’t do me any good. I need one now. For Christmas.”

“Sorry, sir. No can do.”

“Then we’ll go somewhere else.”

“You could go to every toy store in the country, sir, but the story will be the same. They just aren’t available.”

Carl felt trapped. Here it was, starting all over again. No matter what he did, no one would help, no one would give him a break. No matter what he tried, he always came out a failure.

“You don’t understand,” he said slowly. “I
must
have that toy.”

“I guess you don’t understand,” Cherri said, staring right back at him. Apparently the day’s work had hardened her. “We don’t have any!”

“Please,” Carl said, his voice rising in volume, “I need a Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter!”

All at once there was a break in the general pandemonium. A hush fell; the movement ceased.

One lone voice emerged from the back of the crowd. “You’ve got Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighters?”

Cherri held up her hands. “No, no,” she said quickly. “You misunder—”

But it was too late.

“They’ve got Dino-Fighters!” a woman cried. “Fred! Over here!
Dino-Fighters!”

If the store had been in chaos before, it was in Armageddon now. All at once, every warm body in the store bolted toward Cherri and Carl. They were screaming and pushing and fighting to get to the front. Cherri barricaded herself behind the customer service counter, but the horde continued surging forward. Their hands stretched over the counter, grasping at air.

“Do you have the Power Packs?” one voice demanded. “I want three!” shouted another. “I have to have
three
!”

“I’m telling you, we’re sold out!” Cherri said, but no one was listening. They were an unreasoning mob acting with a single purpose.

“Let’s get out of here,” Carl said, recognizing the futility of continuing this particular fight. He reached out his hand, but of course, Tommy didn’t take it. The two of them forced their way to the exits.

They returned to Carl’s pickup. Carl jumped behind the wheel, while Tommy resumed his previous sullen posture in the passenger seat, staring out the window.

“I’m … um… sorry about that, son,” Carl said finally.

“It’s okay,” Tommy said. This time he didn’t even bother to shrug. “It’s no big deal. I knew you couldn’t get a Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter.”

Of course not, Carl thought. His brain boiled with rage. Of course not. Not your stupid, useless, impotent father. He can’t do anything right. He fails at everything. That’s what she’s told you, isn’t it? That’s what she’s made you believe.

He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, driving much too fast. He’d had it with that woman, that ugly woman and all the venom she spewed, even to his own son. She’d poisoned his mind for good. There was nothing he could do, he realized now. No way he could bring Tommy back. No way he could make his son his again.

“Let’s get something to eat,” Carl said, pulling back onto I-35.

“Everything good’ll be closed,” Tommy mumbled.

“I know a place,” Carl replied. And he did, too. He knew a perfect place. Especially for today.

There were no more options open to him, he realized. No way to make things like they were before. There was only one opportunity before him now. Only one choice.

They would go for lunch, Carl resolved. They would go out together one last time.

And then he would remove the boy from his mother’s evil grasp for good.

“H
OW COULD YOU LET
him take away my Tommy?” Bonnie shrieked.

The caregiver tried to remain calm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know—”

“You should’ve known!”

“No one told me anything, ma’am. I can assure you that if they had—”

“I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses!”

Megan laid her hand on Bonnie’s shoulder, trying to calm her and subtly signal her to cool off. The situation was dire enough already. They needed to keep their heads together and figure out what to do next.

Megan’s heart also went out to the poor caregiver, the dark-haired woman who had drawn the thankless duty of administering the short staff on Christmas Eve. She could never have anticipated that she would be thrust in the middle of a horrible domestic crisis.

Bonnie looked a wreck; her face was streaked with tears and ruined makeup. Megan knew fear was eating away at her, fears she hadn’t even expressed but were haunting her just the same.

“How could you let that man take my son? I left specific instructions that he not be allowed anywhere near my Tommy. There is a copy of the divorce decree in the files!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t know any of that.”

“So you just let anyone stroll in and walk away with the children?”

“Of course not, ma’am. He wasn’t just anyone. He was Tommy’s father. Tommy confirmed that. And he had identification. Plus he showed us a lot of very official-looking papers.”

“He used to be a cop!” Bonnie shouted. “He has a glove box full of official-looking papers.”

Megan took a step forward, hoping that Bonnie would catch her breath and let someone else take the lead for a bit. The caregiver was behaving admirably; even under fire she was staying cool. But Megan knew that wouldn’t last forever.

“There’s no point in beating this dead horse,” Megan said in a quiet but firm voice. “He has Tommy. We need to figure out where they’ve gone. Did you by any chance notice what kind of car he was driving?”

Concentration lines etched the caregiver’s face. “I think it was blue. No, wait. Red.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think so. Yes. Red.”

“What kind of car?”

She frowned. “Gee, I’m really not good with cars.”

“Two-door or four?”

“Four. No, two. Actually—come to think of it, he may have been driving a pickup.”

“I don’t suppose you noticed the license plate?”

The caregiver shook her head.

“He drove a red pickup when we were married,” Bonnie said softly. “It was a heap, but he seemed to like it. He probably still has it.”

“That’s something, then.” Megan turned back to the caregiver. “Did he say where he was taking Tommy?”

“Not exactly. But he did say something about buying a Christmas present.”

Bonnie frowned. “Him and everyone else on earth today.”

“And I think he mentioned getting something to eat.”

“Did he say where they might go?” Megan asked.

“He asked Tommy where he wanted to go.”

Megan leaned in anxiously. “And what did Tommy say?”

“He didn’t. Didn’t answer. You know, he didn’t really seem all that happy about going.”

Bonnie’s eyes flew open, her face livid. “Then why in the name of—”

Megan stopped her from finishing the sentence. “Excuse me. I’d like to speak to my client.” She tugged Bonnie toward the front door. “Thank you for your help, ma’am. We’ll get back to you soon.”

Once they were outside, Bonnie whirled on her. “Why did you stop me from—”

“Because it wasn’t doing us any good. Us or Tommy. And we don’t have time for it.” She took Bonnie’s hand and squeezed it. “I know how distraught you are. It’s affecting your judgment.”

Bonnie’s head fell. “You’re right.” She inhaled deeply. “What do we do now?”

“First we call the police.”

“Of course. I didn’t even think—”

“Then we start cruising all the malls and toy stores and shopping centers. I know it’s a long shot, but if you remember your ex-husband’s pickup, it’s just possible you’ll spot it.”

Bonnie shook her head slowly from side to side. Tears welled up in her eyes. “We won’t be quick enough. We won’t find him in time.”

Megan tried to use a gentle tone. “Bonnie, I think you should prepare yourself for the possibility that Tommy might not be with you for Christmas. I know that’s tough, but—”

Tears spilled down Bonnie’s face. “You don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice broken. “You don’t understand.”

Megan tried. “You’re afraid he’ll kidnap Tommy. Take him away somewhere.”

“More than that.” Her voice dropped. “You remember what I said before. How Carl feels. How selfish he is. How he thinks if he can’t have Tommy, no one can.”

Megan’s throat suddenly went dry. “Are you saying—?”

Bonnie nodded, shaking tears down her cheeks. “He’ll kill him,” she whispered. “I know he will.”

“But he’s the boy’s father! How can you think that?”

Bonnie looked up, her face red and ruined. “Because he’s tried before.”

Carl stared across the car at his son, so young, so tiny, so fragile. So easily hurt.

He pulled his eyes to the front. First things first. He had promised this boy lunch. So lunch it would be.

The sky was even darker than before. It was going to snow today; he was sure of it. Best to get inside beforehand.

He took the Western exit and wove through the heavy traffic. There was an Asian restaurant, The Snow Pea, just a short hop from the Cowboy Hall of Fame. It would be the perfect place for lunch.

He pulled his pickup into the parking lot and turned off the ignition. “How’s this look, champ?”

Tommy glanced up at the front of the restaurant and shrugged. “Whatever.”

“You like Chinese, don’t you? Stir-fry?”

“Fine.”

“If there’s something else you’d rather have—”

“No. This is fine.” He opened the car door and slithered out of the car. Carl followed.

The restaurant was decked out in glittery silver and gold tinsel. There was a Christmas tree in the corner with presents (probably empty) artfully arranged beneath. Muzaked carols played through overhead speakers. What was that one? Carl gritted his teeth. “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” He was learning to hate that song.

They found a table and ordered. Carl went for the lo mein noodles; Tommy finally selected the spicy chicken with peanuts. They got Cokes from the dispenser and sat down.

“This probably isn’t very Christmassy,” Carl said. “We’ll do better tonight.”

Tommy looked up. “I thought I was spending tonight with Mommy. And Frank.”

“Is that what you want?”

“That’s what she told me we were going to do.”

“Uh-huh. And what did she tell you I was going to do on Christmas Eve?”

His son looked at him blankly.

Carl’s hand tightened around his fork. Damn that woman and her poison. Damn her and her lies. Damn her and what she had done to this family.

He had hoped they could at least get through Christmas, at least spend the day together, before Tommy went back to his mother. But now he saw that was impossible. The woman had done her venomous work too thoroughly. He had no time, no alternatives, no choices left to him.

He would prove to her that he wasn’t a total loser, that he could accomplish something. This time he would finish the job. He would finish what he had tried to do before. He would prove to his ex-wife that he wasn’t a failure at everything.

Then the conversation would be over. Permanently.

“H
E WAS ALWAYS ABUSIVE
,” Bonnie said in a hoarse whisper. Her hands drummed nervously against the passenger door of Megan’s Toyota. “Verbally. He could be so cruel. And when he lost his temper … well … sometimes he hit me. Hit me hard. But that was nothing compared to what happened toward the end.”

Megan kept her eyes on the road. “What happened?”

“He was getting into trouble with his superiors on the police force. Drinking too much. Basically, he was destroying his life, and he knew it. So he took it out on us.”