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Authors: Philip Cox

She's Not Coming Home (19 page)

BOOK: She's Not Coming Home
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Chapter Thirty-Eight

As Interstate 84
heads east out of Hartford CT, the speed limit is 65 miles per hour. Matt paid little attention to this as he took the Toyota further and further east. At the intersection with the 190 at Morey Pond, the speedometer showed eighty-five. The occasional vehicle he passed showed their annoyance by flashing their lights. He would flash his own when a slower moving vehicle was in front, and they all changed lanes without any delay. All throughout the journey he was expecting to come across a police car and get pulled over; now and again he saw a sign stating that speeds were being tracked by radar. He accepted that his licence number would be taken by a camera and he would incur a penalty, but he was prepared to accept that.

As he headed to the Cape, his mother’s words kept ringing in his ears.

‘Matt, listen. Something’s happened. It’s Nathan.’

Matt sat up. ‘Nathan? Why? What’s happened?’

‘We’d been into town. We got back an hour or so. I left him playing in the yard.’

‘Mom, what’s happened?’

His mother’s voice started to quiver as she spoke.

‘We can’t find him anywhere.’

‘What do you mean, you can’t find him?’ There was panic in his voice.

His mother tried to speak calmly: Matt could hear her controlling her voice. ‘I took him into town. Just after breakfast. He wanted to go to that little bookstore and see if there were any books on dinosaurs there. We got back here a little after ten. It was a nice morning. He asked if he could play in the yard a while. He still had his coat on, so I didn’t see any harm.’

‘Did you shut the gate?’

She sniffed. ‘Of course I did. And I left the front door open. He was playing with that large inflatable brontosaurus thing he has. I could hear him running about, making all the dinosaur noises. Then I realised I hadn’t heard him for a while. I called your father, and he -’

‘Mom, I’m coming back now. Tell me all this when I get back. I’ll be as quick as I can. In the meantime, call the police.’

‘I will. How long do you think you’ll be?’

‘Five, maybe six hours. I’ll be as quick as I can.’

‘Drive safely, Matt.’

‘I will.’

Four hours and one very brief comfort stop later, the Toyota’s wheels squealed as the car leapt over the Sagamore Bridge. Five minutes later, he sounded the horn outside his parents’ house. His father was out front, and opened the gate for him to drive in. His face was lined with worry.

‘Matt, I don’t -’ he said as Matt leapt out of the car.

‘It’s okay; where’s Mom?’

‘She – she’s in the house.’

Matt ran up the driveway and met his mother on the porch. She held out her arms and hugged him. Her eyes were red.

‘Matt, I’m so sorry. I -’

‘It’s okay, Mom.’ He sat her down in the porch. His father joined them. ‘Is there any more news?’ he asked them.

His father shook his head and opened his mouth to speak but his mother answered first.

‘No. We called the police. Glen Miller, the Sheriff, has been over. He took a description and said he would drive around and get back to us. We’ve heard nothing yet. Old Harry Dobbs took your father round also in his station wagon -’

‘Nothing. No sightings,’ said his father.

‘I stayed here, just in case he wandered off and found his way back.’ She sniffed again, and blew her nose. Matt nodded and rested his hand on her arm.

He looked up at his father. ‘Have you tried the neighbours?’

‘The two this side,’ – his father nodded over to the right – ‘are away on vacation. They left us a key in case of emergencies. I went in and had a look around, in the house and in the yard and garage. No sign there. The two – the two guys the other side are in, and they looked round their place as well.’

‘And here?’ Matt asked. ‘You’ve checked both floors, the attic, the basement?’

His father nodded. ‘All the closets and rooms. And the garage and den.’

Matt stood up. ‘Come with me as I drive around,’ he said to his father.

‘Right you are,’ Matthew Senior said, and followed his son down the steps to the Toyota.

‘I’ll have my cell phone right here,’ he called out to his mother as he climbed into the car. ‘Call me if anything…you know.’

Estelle swallowed and wiped her nose. She nodded and stood up as Matt reversed onto the street.

‘What was he wearing?’ Matt asked as they headed towards town.

‘A - a grey overcoat with a hood.’

‘Yes,’ said Matt grimly. ‘I know the one.’

Matt drove slowly along Route 6A, continually checking his side of the road. His father checked the other. Normally Matt hated driving with his father, as he would always remind Matt how long he had been driving, and point out the things Matt was doing wrong: going too fast, going too slow, too near the centre line, watch out for the truck fifty feet ahead. This time he was silent, a sure sign how worried he was.

‘I’ll go as far as Main Street,’ Matt said. ‘No way could he have gotten even that far. Then I’ll do the same in the other direction.’

In town, he turned right onto Liberty Street, right again onto Main, then took Tupper Road back up to the 6A.  As they approached his parents’ house, they saw a police car parked outside. His mother was talking to a figure in uniform.

‘That’s Glen, the sheriff,’ said his father.

‘Glen Miller?’ asked Matt.

‘U-huh.’ Any other time, his father would have cracked a joke.

As Matt drew up, the sheriff’s car pulled away. He wound down the window. ‘Any news?’ he asked his mother.

Arms folded, she shook her head. ‘He said there’ve been no sightings. His department are continuing to look, and it’s been reported to the State Police Missing Persons -’

‘Missing Persons Unit,’ Matt finished her sentence. ‘Seems I know the drill. Look, we’re going to take a ride in the other direction.’

‘Okay,’ she mouthed, and shivered.

Matt released the brake and pulled away. As he waited to cross the eastbound lane, a bright red SUV turned into the next door driveway. The driver waved and stopped.

‘That’s Jerry Looper,’ Matthew Senior muttered. ‘One of the – the guys next door.’

Jerry wound down his window. ‘What’s going on, Matt?’ he asked Matthew Senior. ‘I saw all the police here just now.’

Senior looked over at his son, then back to Jerry. ‘You were out when I called earlier. Marty checked the house for me. Nathan, our grandson, Matt’s boy,’ - he indicated over to Matt – ‘has gone missing. Has been gone – well, almost six hours.’

‘Damn,’ said Jerry. ‘I saw him around that time ago.’

Matt got out of the car and spoke to Jerry over the Toyota roof. ‘When? Where?’

‘He was talking to a woman -’

‘A woman? What did she look like?’

‘I don’t know – thirties, tallish, I guess. Black hair, long, I think. The boy seemed to know her well.’

‘How so?’

‘Well, they were talking a lot out here. She was playing with that big blow-up thing he had. A dinosaur, was it? Then he got into the car with her. Dinosaur as well.’

‘What was the car?’

‘It was like this – a Chrysler. A convertible. May have been a Crossfire. Silver.’

Matt slammed his fist down on the Toyota roof. ‘I knew it! The fucking bitch!’

‘Matt – what is it?’ his mother asked as she approached.

Matt leaned in the car. ‘Dad, get out. I have to go.’

‘What do you mean? To go where?’

‘To get my son back. I know whose car that is.’

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The previous night
, Ryan Wilson manoeuvred the metallic blue Audi R8 GT Spyder off the Interstate and onto the final leg of the journey home. Even for a mid-week night, the traffic was lighter than normal, and the journey from his workplace at Logan had taken just under an hour. If only it had been like that last Friday, he reflected: at the end of the week, it had for some time been his and Gail’s tradition to unwind with a candlelit meal at home, plenty of wine, both at the table and in bed where they would finish the bottle watching a movie. It was their practice to alternate whose choice of movie they watched; the first week Gail would choose a romcom maybe, or some kind of chick flick, the next week Ryan would choose. Then the night would become less restful: it was not uncommon for their session to last past three o’clock Saturday morning. Last Friday was different. Last Friday it was Ryan’s turn to choose the movie.  He was a fan of classic black and white movies, and that week they watched
The Third Man
. Not Gail’s type of picture; in fact during the scene where Harry Lime played by Orson Welles is hiding from Joseph Cotten’s Holly Martin and his hiding place is given away by Lime’s cat, Ryan nudged Gail to watch the image of the cat nudging Lime’s shoe. Getting no response, he looked down and saw Gail flat on her back sound asleep. He completed the rest of the movie alone, and then fell asleep himself.

Still watching the road ahead, he reached down to the front passenger seat and felt the package he had left on the seat. He smiled; even though it was not a Friday, they could still make up for last week. He was away for the weekend on a fishing trip to Pigeon Cove, and they both worked late Monday and Tuesday, with an early start the next morning. Not so tonight.

He looked up at their building as he pulled into the lot. The light was on in one of their apartment windows. Fantastic: Gail said she might be home first. Ready, waiting and willing. He locked the car, walked across the lot in a dignified manner, then, package in hand, ran up the stairs to their apartment.

*****

Gail was standing with her back to the door and swung round when it opened. ‘So there you are,’ she said. ‘I thought you’d forgotten.’

‘You thought I’d forgotten?’ he replied.

He took off his coat and dropped it and the package on a chair. He walked over to Gail. She was wearing a cream dress. Coming to just below her knees, it accentuated every curve on her body.  The colour showed up the rich tan on her legs and arms. He liked this: he was not sure whether it was natural, still showing six weeks after the last vacation; or artificial, spray or otherwise. Either way, he didn’t care. He stepped over to her and put his arms around her narrow waist.

‘Thought I’d forgotten?’ he repeated. ‘What do you think?’ he added as his mouth brushed against hers.

She put her arms around his neck and opened her mouth slightly. Their lips, and then their tongues fought. He lowered his hands down to her behind and held it tightly, pulling her closer to him. Through his clothes she could feel him ready for her.

He reached further down and lifted her dress up. Gail gasped and began to nuzzle his face and chin as he felt for the elastic of her panties.

‘Wait a second, buster,’ she said, pulling away slightly. His hands returned to her back, letting the dress drop back into place.

‘What’s in there?’ she asked, looking over at the package he dropped onto the chair.

He laughed, let her go, and reached over to the chair. Picked up the brown grocery bag and pulled out the contents.

Gail grinned and licked her lips as he pulled out a set of handcuffs, covered in black fur.

*****

It was much later that evening. Both fully spent and dripping with sweat, they collapsed onto the bed. Gail sat up and ran both hands through her black hair, clearing it from her face.

He turned onto his back and ran a hand over his sweaty chest.

‘Man,’ he exclaimed, reaching over to the cigarette pack and lighter by the side of the bed. He lit up and offered one to Gail. Lit hers with the end of his.

Gail moved her head around as she reached up to massage her own neck.

‘You okay baby?’ he asked, reaching up and stroking her back.

She nodded, took a drag and rested the cigarette on the ashtray her side of the bed. Sat there a second or two, then swung over so she was sitting astride him.

‘But next time,’ she purred, leaning forward, ‘
you
can wear these.’ She shook the handcuffs which were still connected to the bed frame.

He nodded and laughed.

‘Now,’ she said as she climbed off him, ‘the first thing we need is a towel.’ She walked into the bathroom and picked up two hand towels. Threw one at him, and then walked naked out into the living room. He rubbed himself with the towel and then lay back again, looking up at the ceiling. Then he could hear Gail shout out from the living room.

He sat up and called out, ‘What is it?’

She returned to the bedroom holding her cell phone. ‘Goddam it. How could I be so...?’

‘Be so what?’

She sat down on the bed, staring at the phone.

‘I’d forgotten; I’d put my cell onto silent.’

He sat up a bit more. ‘Yeah; so what?’

Gail looked over at him, holding her phone out to him.

‘I’ve just checked my messages. Ryan called earlier. From home, asking where the hell I was. I’d forgotten we’d arranged to both get home early tonight, for a meal together.’

She tossed the phone onto the bed. She stared down at the bed, breathing heavily, trying to control her emotions.

Danny Clark leaned back against the bed, a serious expression on his face.

BOOK: She's Not Coming Home
3.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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