Run Like Hell (12 page)

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Authors: Elena Andrews

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Teen & Young Adult, #Action & Adventure, #Survival Stories

BOOK: Run Like Hell
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“I never lied to you. Your dog wasn’t here when I left for school this morning. I guess my brother must’ve found him,” Ricky shrugs. “I swear, Morgan. I had nothing to do with your dog going missing.”

 

At the mention of his brother, I nervously glance around the house.

 

“He’s gone,” Ricky says. “He ran off earlier. I entered using the spare house key my mom hides under a rock by the front door. Brian doesn’t know about the spare key.”

 

“You didn’t want to let him in earlier?”

 

“No, he needed to calm down and I knew he’d leave soon. He always leaves when he’s upset.”

 

I can’t help wondering why Ricky and I have been thrown together in this crazy situation. We’d only met a day ago and already he’s protecting me from his older brother. He knew not to let his brother in the house. What would have happened to me if Brian had come in?

 

The throbbing in my skull isn’t ceasing. I want nothing more than to lie in my bed, snuggle with my dog, take a pain reliever, and sleep.

 

“Traci, let’s get out of here.” She follows me to the door.

 

“Wait!” Ricky yells and we halt. I can’t ignore the hint of desperation in his cry. “I have to find Caroline and you’re the key.”

 

Behind his black rimmed glasses is the face of fear.

 

“What do you mean I’m the key? And where is Caroline?” I question.

 

“Who’s Caroline?” Traci looks from me to Ricky, waiting for one of us to clue her in.

 

“Caroline is my brother’s ex-girlfriend. She’s been missing for several months. Morgan looks exactly like her.”

 

“What do you mean she’s missing? If she’s his ex, maybe she left town for a while. How old is she anyway?” Traci’s always so pragmatic.

 

“She’s twenty-one and lives at home. I know her. She’s kind and sweet. No one’s heard from her in months. She’d never leave for that long without telling someone where she was. Her parents reported her missing when she never returned home after a night out with her friends.”

 

Ricky’s emotional reaction indicates Caroline is someone he cares about. Looking around the shabby house – old, threadbare couch, a scrappy coffee table, and yellowed lamp shades – I wonder if Ricky is a latch-key kid. Is he at the mercy of his brother’s temper often?

 

Traci shoots me a skeptical look. “So, his brother is the guy who picked you up Saturday night and chased you through the woods? The same guy who stalked you and stole your dog? And now he ran off to who knows where? And, you look exactly like his missing ex-girlfriend?”

 

I nod my head yes and Traci’s expression changes from confusion to exasperation.

 

“Morgan! Why haven’t you called the police? What are you waiting for? You want to go missing too?”

 

I slump onto the worn couch. My head is pounding and I can’t deal with my best friend yelling at me.

 

“Don’t sit down, Morgan!” she continues. “This is his house! He could be returning soon. We have to get out of here.”

 

She stands in front of me and tugs on my arms, trying to pull me to my feet. Obediently, I stand and she pulls me toward the door.

 

“Morgan, if we find my brother he’ll lead us to Caroline. I know he has her.”

 

“Then why haven’t the police arrested him, or questioned him?” Traci challenges.

 

“Because they don’t have any evidence to tie him to her disappearance. They did question him, but couldn’t hold him on suspicion.” He then appeals to me, “Listen, will you at least think about it? Morgan, you’re not safe either. He could come after you as well. It’s what I’ve been trying to warn you about.”

 

“Why are we discussing this?” Traci interjects. “We should discuss this with the police, not amongst ourselves. How are we supposed to solve a missing person’s case? This is crazy, Morgan, you realize it is, right?” She sighs and shakes her head when I don’t respond. “Please, let’s leave now or are you going to stay to discuss this crazy plan of his?”

 

I’m relieved to have Tiger back, but I’m not safe. What if I was the lucky one who got away? What if Brian stalks other girls and harms them? I can’t live knowing I did nothing to prevent him from hurting other people.

 

“Fine,” my gaze locks with Ricky’s, “but I need to go home and rest. And we have to do this tonight because my parents are coming home tomorrow.”

 

“Tonight?” His eyes widen in surprise.

 

“Yes, tonight. It’s now or never.” My steely gaze confirms my seriousness. Traci shakes her head in amazement and holds her hands in the air like she wants no involvement with our vigilante plan.

 

We exchange cell phone numbers and agree to talk at eight. During the ride home, Traci attempts to talk me out of my decision. I can’t argue with her. All her points make perfect sense. Yes, I’ve endured enough over the past several days. No, I don’t need to sustain any more injuries. Yes, my parents will be furious if they knew about my decision.

 

But I can’t ignore my own instinct. Tonight’s plans are something I have to do. Tiger whines softly from the back seat and lays his head in his paws.

 

“Oh, no. Now what?” Traci indicates to the police car parked outside my house.

 

Rory’s Jaguar is no longer in the shop and is parked in the driveway. Did Brian come to my house after he fled his house? He was furious with me earlier and I could imagine him vandalizing my house as payback.

 

“Want me to wait here?” Traci asks as she drops me off.

 

“No, I’ve put you through enough. Rory’s home. We’ll be fine. Thank you, Traci.” I lean over and give her a hug. She hugs me back. We never manage to stay mad at one another.

 

“Morgan, I’m not mad at you. I’m only worried. You’ve been through so much. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

 

Her light eyes plead with me but I’ve made my decision. “I need to do this tonight. Tomorrow everything will be back to normal, I promise.” Traci shakes her head mutely. “Will you keep your phone on you tonight, in case I need to call you?” I know it’s asking too much from her, after everything she’s already done for me. But she’s the only backup I have.

 

Traci nods and wishes me luck. Tiger and I enter the house as she drives away. As I close the door I’m met with Rory’s laughter vibrating throughout the house. Tiger bounds ahead and I hear my aunt cry his name in surprise. When I enter the living room I find Officer Whitman seated on the sofa beside Rory. They stop laughing at the same time and stare at me. I’m obviously interrupting something.

 

“Morgan, where’d you find Tiger?” Rory ruffles his fur and enjoys his wet kisses.

 

“My friend found him running around the neighborhood. I picked him up at his house,” I lie. No way am I telling the truth. The truth has become increasingly complicated. Tiger retreats to the kitchen and I can hear him munching on his dry food and lapping at his water bowl.

 

“Everything okay here?” I ask the officer.

 

“Todd stopped by to visit after his shift,” Rory smiles sheepishly.

 

Good for her. Officer Whitman seems like a nice guy and he and my aunt would make an attractive couple. Watching them smile at each other reminds me to call Jack. I’m about to excuse myself from the room when I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a nearby mirror. My eyes are drawn to the lump on my head, disguised under my hair. I then study my face and remember Ricky’s pleas for help. Do I really resemble Caroline?

 

“Officer Whitman, may I ask you a question?” I don’t want to raise their suspicions, but since a police officer is sitting in my living room, I might as well ask. He tears his eyes off Rory and looks at me expectantly. “Are you familiar with a missing person’s case of a twenty-one year old woman named Caroline? I believe she disappeared several weeks ago.” His eyebrows rise when I mention her name.

 

“I’m familiar with her case. Why do you ask?”

 

“Do the police have any suspects?” A curious expression crosses Rory’s face when her gaze fixes on my fingers twisting a silver ring on my hand.

 

“I can’t reveal details of the investigation. Why such interest in the case?” He leans back against the sofa. His blue eyes narrow suspiciously. Caution, Morgan. Think before you speak. He’s trained to ask questions and observe body language. My fingers still on the ring and my hands drop limply to my sides.

 

“Oh, a friend mentioned the case and since you’re here at the house I thought I’d ask. Isn’t it true most missing person’s cases are linked to the victim’s significant other? Did she have a boyfriend the police investigated?” Rory’s eyebrows raise and she crosses her arms, now looking suspicious.

 

“Well,” Officer Whitman hesitates, “she did have an ex-boyfriend but we didn’t have anything to link him to her disappearance.”

 

Rory uncrosses her arms and places a hand on top of his. Her slight touch distracts him and he turns his attention away from me. “Perhaps we shouldn’t be discussing this,” she advises.

 

She glares at me.
Go Away
.

 

Message received.

 

“Well, thanks anyways Officer Whitman.” I’d love to remind her that this is my house and if she wants to cuddle with her new police-officer-friend then perhaps she should go home and snuggle with him there. “I’ll be in upstairs, Aunt Rory.” I smile sweetly at her and give them their privacy.

 

Climbing the stairs makes my calf throb and tingle. Once in my room, I pop two pain relievers and chase them with a glass of water. My bed looks so comfortable and inviting. A nap beckons. Tiger enters my room and I pat the mattress, indicating for him to join me on the bed.

 

Rory and Officer Whitman were so enthralled with one another they hadn’t noticed the golf ball size lump on the side of my head. On my cell phone, I quickly search the web for signs of a concussion. My fainting spell earlier and my sudden tiredness have me concerned. I can’t risk a visit to the emergency room tonight.

 

Jack. I close the web search and dial his number. He answers on the first ring.

 

“Morgan, I’m so sorry. I should have texted you, or called.” His deep voice is comforting and I’ve missed talking to him.

 

“I’ve been worried about you. How’s your ankle?”

 

He’s quiet. I imagine him lying in bed, listening to his iPod – ignoring his cell phone. When he’s upset, he shuts himself off from the world, including me.

 

He sighs, “I’m benched for the rest of the season.”

 

His voice is laced with disappointment. Nothing I say will sway his mood. I can only be supportive.

 

“I’m coming over.” A night of snuggling and watching a movie should cheer him up. Jack is more important than the plans I’ve made with Ricky.

 

“Nah, you don’t have to.”

 

His moodiness doesn’t discourage me. “Jack, I’ll be right over. We can hang out and relax. Besides, I miss you.” The sound of his breath exhaling and his long pause prepare me for his next words.

 

“Morgan, I know you mean well but I prefer to be alone tonight. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

 

Arguing with him in the past never got me anywhere. I’ll give him the space he needs. If he’s miserable tomorrow I’ll go to his house after school and hang out with him.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” I murmur and we hang up.

 

Lying in bed, I study the small glow-in-the-dark stars stuck on my ceiling. Years ago, Jack and I stood on my bed and pressed them against the ivory paint in a circular pattern. The stars always remind me of him. He’ll come around tomorrow, I assure myself. My eyelids slowly close as I’m lulled to sleep by the steady rise and fall of Tiger’s breathing as he rests beside me.

 

Later, the ring of my cell phone jars me awake.

 

“Morgan, it’s Ricky. Can we meet now? This is the only time I can sneak out of the house.”

 

The yellow digits on my alarm clock read seven-thirty. The lump on my head is still tender but after the long nap I’m refreshed. We agree to meet in fifteen minutes at a nearby park, walking distance from my house. Hastily, I change into black leggings and a long-sleeved, black t-shirt and dark purple hoodie.

 

Downstairs, I’m surprised to hear Officer Whitman’s laughter in the kitchen. A delicious aroma wafts throughout the house and my stomach rumbles as a reminder of how little I’ve eaten over the past few days.

 

“Morgan, where have you been?” Rory asks as I enter the kitchen.

 

She’s sautéing chicken breasts on the stove. I head to the cupboard to raid Mom’s stash of protein bars and drop one in my pocket.

 

“I’ve been in my room.” I pause and grab a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’m taking Tiger on a walk and also meeting up with a friend. I’m not sure when I’ll be home.”

 

Rory cocks an eyebrow at me but refrains from challenging me in front of her new friend. Officer Whitman casually leans against the counter, his eyes on Rory the whole time. She begins to chop onions and green peppers. He readily takes the knife and cutting board from her and offers to prep the veggies. A pot of boiling water bubbles nearby, beckoning the box of fettuccine Rory tears open.

 

“I’ll save you some leftovers,” she responds as she dumps the pasta in the boiling water.

 

“Thanks, Rory. Dinner smells delicious. You two enjoy your evening,” I call over my shoulder as I leave the kitchen. In the doorway I pause, “It was nice seeing you again, Officer Whitman.” He comments to Rory how nice I am as I leash Tiger in the foyer. My attempt at impressing him works. And from the way his gaze lingers on Rory, she’s impressed him as well.

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