Gone in a Flash (17 page)

‘Alicia should clean up her own room! I have to clean mine myself.’

‘Ha! You’ve never cleaned your room in your whole life! That’s why no one goes in there except you! We’re afraid we’d get lost!’ Bess said. ‘Besides, Alicia’s room is never a mess. This happened when those men took her.’

Both girls stopped for a minute and looked around. ‘Jeez,’ Megan finally said. ‘How sick would that be? Wake up to someone in your room and then they drag you out?’ She shuddered and crossed her arms over her chest.

Not noticing what Megan was doing, Bess ended up in the same position, arms across her chest, just thinking about the scene. Finally, she shook herself. ‘Let’s clean it up. There’s no way she should come home to this.’

‘Right,’ Megan said, and actually began to make things right.

All in all, it took them forty-five minutes to go the two miles to their house, go in and get Alicia’s clothes, straighten her room, and go the two miles back to the station. Most of that time was spent on the road.

‘But I do know what this is about, sorta,’ Alicia said to her audience.

Luna, who had joined us late, said, ‘What’s that?’

‘That satchel, Mom, that you gave me? There was something in the lining. I cut it out and it was a flash drive—’ She looked around at nothing but blank stares, mine included. I’d heard the phrase, but I didn’t know what it meant. I know very few things about computers: how to turn them on, how to turn them off, how to get a Windows screen, and how to retrieve email. I don’t peruse Facebook. I don’t Twitter. I don’t Snipe or Snope or whatever. I don’t have a website, and I’m not even sure what one is. I write romance novels. My editor emails me changes. I email them back. That is my entire source of knowledge about a computer.

Graham said, ‘It’s a doohickey you stick in a port – a hole in the computer – that has information on it. Usually a download from another computer. That means—’

‘I think we all understand download, son,’ said the chief, ‘but thanks for the mini-lesson. So, Ms Brooks, what was on that flash thing?’

‘Flash drive. And I don’t know. The sketch artist showed up and I just left it on my desk, and then forgot about it, what with all that was going on.’

‘So it’s still there?’ the chief asked. ‘In your room?’

‘I don’t know. That Mr Brown person kinda worked it out. That it was on my desk. They may be going to the house—’

Willis and I both jumped up. ‘The girls!’ we said in unison.

We were answered by voices from the doorway. ‘What about us?’ Bess said, and, ‘You talking about us?’ Megan said.

Willis and I sank back in our seats. ‘Took you long enough,’ Graham said.

‘You know we don’t drive stick!’ Megan said.

Graham stood up. ‘What did you do to my car?’ he demanded.

‘I drove it!’ Bess said. ‘It just took a while.’

The girls had only been driving for a few months – Alicia, the oldest, for six months, Megan for four, and Bess, who’s sixteenth birthday we celebrated less than a month ago, not even a month. One thing I was adamant about was that the girls learn to drive a stick shift. I don’t think any driver – especially a female – should be out in the world and not know how to drive just about any vehicle she might encounter. I might have a little difficulty with an eighteen wheeler, but I think I could probably get it from point A to point B. To me, it’s a safety precaution. But as so often happens, I just hadn’t gotten around to teaching my girls – yet. Looked like there would be lessons while Graham and his car were here. Because, God forbid, I wasn’t about to let them near my Audi.

‘I swear if you stripped the gears or messed up anything—’

‘Sit down, young man,’ the chief said. ‘Don’t threaten your sisters, at least not in my presence. I don’t want to have to arrest you.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Graham said, sitting back down. Alicia’s hand was on his arm, stroking it. Oh, boy, did we need to talk.

‘Lieutenant Luna, you wanna go to their house and see if the flash thing is still there?’ the chief asked.

Four voices said, ‘Drive,’ in what would have been a round if we’d sung it.

‘Yes, sir,’ Luna said.

‘Oh, and Luna, I got a call from the chief of D’s in Austin. He’s sending a couple of detectives over this way. Should be here shortly.’

‘What are we supposed to do with them?’ Luna asked, frowning.

‘Keep ’em fed and watered, I suppose,’ the chief said.

As Luna headed for the door to the room, the chief said, ‘Don’t you need to get a key?’

‘I have one,’ she said. ‘We’re neighbors.’

‘The door’s unlocked anyway,’ Megan said.

I looked at Willis. ‘Maybe we should stop doing that,’ I said. ‘Leaving the doors unlocked.’

There have been times since we’ve lived in Black Cat Ridge when we’ve locked our doors, like right after our friends and neighbors the Lesters, Bess’s birth parents, were murdered, or when we were being stalked that time. Oh, and when Willis disappeared once, and that time Bess was kidnapped, but we always end up forgetting to lock up within a month or two of such incidents. Basically, all in all, Black Cat Ridge is a safe community. But then again, we do seem to attract the unsavory element to our door. Best it was locked when they came a’calling.

‘We got it!’ Mr Brown was saying into the phone.

‘Then get back here immediately!’ the heavily accented voice on the other end of the line said, and hung up.

Mr Brown started up the Toyota and put it in gear. ‘We’re off to Houston,’ he said to Mr Jones.

‘OK,’ Mr Jones said. ‘Can we get something to eat first?’

Mr Brown rolled his eyes. ‘We are in a stolen car, Mr Jones,’ he said, pronouncing each word succinctly. ‘It would not be a good idea to stop by a restaurant or even a drive-thru in a stolen car. Do you see my point?’

‘Oh, yeah, you’re right,’ Mr Jones said. ‘Maybe once we’re on the road?’

‘We’ll see,’ Mr Brown said, and got on the highway to Codderville that would eventually lead to Interstate 10, that would take them all the way to Houston.

Clarissa Mayfair hated her partner. Absolutely hated him. Davis DeWitt felt the same way about her. Theirs was a match made in hell, or, to be more exact, in the homicide division of the Austin Police Department. The two had been assigned the homicide case of James Unger, the man who was pushed off the roof of the Driscoll Hotel parking garage. After several days of absolutely nothing, they got a lead that, unfortunately, led them out of town to a jerkwater place called Black Cat Ridge, located somewhere along the twisting, winding rope of a river called the Colorado.

They knew the river well – it flowed through Austin, in the guise of Lake Austin on the west end, and Lady Bird Lake in the center of town, bisecting the city, resulting in the common destination of south of the river and/or north of the river. A lot of the festivities in the city were located on, by, or near the river, or the Lady Bird Lake part of the river. The fourth of July fireworks were fired from a barge in the middle of the lake/river, the Austin City Limits TV show’s annual ACL Fest was held on the banks of the river, the annual trail of lights was near the river, and the largest Christmas tree on earth has a view of the river, making the Colorado River an important part of the Austin lifestyle.

But driving for two hours to this Podunk town somewhere near the river they both loved, in each other’s company, was not going to be fun. Actually, neither of them could think of something they’d rather not do more than spend two to three hours in a car with each other. Their mutual dislike had nothing to do with looks. They were both pleasant-looking people – Mayfair a petite blonde with green eyes and large breasts; DeWitt a large, dark-haired man with washboard abs and dark blue eyes. No, it had to do with personalities. And theirs didn’t mesh. Within the first hour of meeting him, Mayfair was blessed with a peek at DeWitt’s washboard abs when he pulled up his shirt and said, ‘Look!’ From that moment onward she thought he was vain and slightly stupid. When she replied to his offer of a peek at his abs with the response, ‘Cover yourself up, you dumb fuck,’ he considered her rude, aggressive, and not very nice.

Nothing had happened in the eighteen months since to change the opinions of either.

The first hour of the drive went something like this:

Clarissa Mayfair: ‘You wanna drive, or should I?’

Davis DeWitt: ‘I’ll drive.’

Clarissa Mayfair: ‘OK.’

The second hour went more like this:

Davis DeWitt: ‘Is that it?’

Clarissa Mayfair: ‘Yeah. Turn left.’

Davis DeWitt: ‘Fuck! I
am
turning left!’

Clarissa Mayfair: ‘Don’t start with me!’

Which brought them to the parking lot of the Black Cat Ridge police department.

Inside, the Pugh family had just finished up and were heading for the front door of the station. They met the detectives from Austin on their way out.

‘You the chief ?’ DeWitt asked Donaldson.

‘Yeah. You the guys from Austin?’

‘Yeah,’ DeWitt answered. ‘This the family?’

‘Yeah,’ Donaldson said.

‘We’re leaving,’ Willis said.

‘We need to talk to y’all,’ Mayfair said.

‘Not now! My daughter has been through hell and back and we’re taking her home to get some rest. We’ll call you when she’s up to being questioned. Again,’ Willis said, and walked his family past the Austin detectives.

‘Hey, now!’ DeWitt started, but Chief Donaldson put a restraining hand on his arm.

‘Let ’em go,’ he said. ‘The girl’s exhausted. She needs to rest. Come on into my office and I’ll tell you what we know so far. Then, if you still need to, you can go talk to Alicia when she’s rested.’

‘This is highly unorthodox,’ Mayfair said.

To which her partner replied, ‘Shut up.’

Which elicited a ‘Don’t you talk to me like that!’ from Mayfair.

The exchange continued, letting Chief Donaldson know the flavor of their relationship.

We got home, all stuffed in Graham’s Celica, sans seatbelts. All the other cars were still in the driveway as they were when we’d left the house with Luna. Once we got everyone out and into the house, Alicia said, ‘I want a shower.’

Bess and Megan took an arm each and Megan said, ‘We’ll go up with you.’ Alicia let them lead her upstairs.

Willis and I looked at each other, then at our son. What the hell were we supposed to do now?

Willis said, ‘Son, sit down.’

‘Dad, now’s not the time.’

‘I can’t think of a better time,’ Willis said. ‘Please sit down.’

Graham reluctantly sat on the sofa. I sat down next to him, while Willis took to his big comfy chair, like the king of the house on his throne.

‘Son, we’ve known for some time how you and Alicia felt about each other—’

‘How could you?’ Graham said jumping up. ‘I didn’t know—’

I pulled him back down to the sofa. ‘It’s OK, honey,’ I said. ‘She didn’t know either. But the rest of us could see it.’

Graham turned pink around the ears. Willis went on, ‘That’s all well and good, boy. I’m glad you two care about each other, but there’s a problem here. You two can’t get physical—’

‘Jeez, Dad!’

‘I’m just saying, Graham. She’s sixteen, you’re eighteen. There’s a law.’

More than Graham’s ears were pink this time. ‘I’m not gonna do anything,’ he said, his voice barely a whisper.

‘You’re right,’ Willis said, ‘you’re not. And to make absolutely sure, Alicia will sleep with your mom in our bedroom, and you and I will be upstairs. You in your room, me in Alicia’s.’

‘Oh my God! You don’t trust me?’ Graham said, on his feet yet again. I pulled him back down.

‘It’s not that I
dis
trust you, per se,’ Willis said, ‘it’s that I don’t trust your hormones. And I don’t trust hers. This will just be until you go back to college.’

‘I’m not going back,’ Graham said.

‘Now wait just a goddamn minute!’ Willis said, jumping to his feet.

It was going to be a long night.

Mr Brown exited the freeway at a town called Columbus. It was eight o’clock in the evening and for the last forty miles Mr Jones’s belly had been rumbling loud enough for Mr Brown to hear it over the engine noise of the stolen Toyota. Only a short way from the freeway they found a restaurant, Jane’s, that was still open. The restaurant had a dinner buffet that was closed, but they were told they could order off the menu.

‘I’m really hungry,’ Mr Jones said.

‘I know,’ Mr Brown said.

‘I think I’m gonna get the chicken fried steak. You think the chicken fried steak would be good here?’ Mr Jones asked.

‘I really wouldn’t know. Ask the waitress.’

Mr Jones waited until the waitress came for their drink order. After ordering a Diet Coke, Mr Jones asked her, ‘How’s the chicken fried steak here?’

‘Best in Texas,’ she said in a deadpan voice.

That was when Mr Jones noticed that in the description on the menu of the chicken fried steak, it said, ‘Best in Texas.’ Duh! If he’d only seen that he wouldn’t have had to ask! ‘OK, then, I’ll have the chicken fried steak, cream gravy on the side, mashed potatoes with some brown gravy, and the house salad with ranch dressing. Oh, and the sweet potato pie here?’ he said, pointing at the dessert section of the menu. ‘How’s that?’

‘Gone,’ she said. ‘Big lunch crowd today.’

‘Oh. Whatja got left?’

‘Chess pie, seven-layer chocolate cake, and banana pudding,’ she said.

‘You wanna split something?’ Mr Jones asked Mr Brown.

Mr Brown, clenching his fists under the table, said, ‘No.’

‘I guess I’ll have the chess pie. It any good?’ he asked the waitress.

‘Best in Texas,’ she said. Turning to Mr Brown she said, ‘You?’

‘BLT and a Coke,’ he said.

The waitress gave him a disgusted look and headed toward the kitchen.

‘Y
ou wanna ring the doorbell?’ DeWitt asked his partner.

‘No, you go ahead,’ Mayfair answered.

Davis DeWitt rang the Pughs’ doorbell.

It was seven o’clock at night and, like peace officers everywhere, if they had to miss dinner,
everybody
had to miss dinner.