Run to Me (3 page)

Reece looked around him. ‘Will it be better than this?’

‘Absolutely. There’ll be nice beds, decent clothes and plenty to eat.’

‘Will we get to stay together?’ Corey murmured.

The man considered
this. ‘You boys have been through a lot together, huh?’

The younger two nodded.

‘Well then, we can’t let anyone separate you, can we? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you stay together.’

At their glowing smiles, Westgate straightened. ‘Now go and get your things so we can get out of here.’

‘Don’t worry about clothes,’ the woman added. ‘Just grab anything special that’s yours.’

Corey and Reece
raced into the bedroom. Zack stood his ground, gazing at Westgate.

‘Nothing you want to take with you, son?’

He shook his head.

At his unflinching scrutiny, Westgate winked. ‘Didn’t I tell you I’d get you out of here?’

Zack stared back. Why didn’t he feel the excitement the others did? Was it something he could see in these people they couldn’t? Or was it all the broken promises that had gone
before?

The younger boys charged back into the room, Reece in his treasured Red Sox sweatshirt, its pockets bulging with baseball cards – the only things his mom hadn’t hocked before she’d OD’ed. Corey clutched Ali, the Kermit-green alligator his dad had given him before he’d walked out that final time.

Taking Zack’s hands, they followed their rescuers out into the night.

They drove for an hour, ending up in a quiet neighbourhood where street lights illuminated tidy yards and people walked poodles and golden retrievers.

‘It’s too late to drive to the shelter tonight,’ Westgate said as he and Ms Knowles led them up the path to a two-storey house. ‘We’ll sleep here and head off first thing in the morning.’

‘Don’t worry, there are plenty of beds upstairs
so you can all share a room,’ the woman added.

Through the front door was an open area – dining table on the left, darkened living room off to the right, between them stairs to the second floor.

‘Here you are, boys. Make yourselves comfortable,’ the woman said. When the younger two simply clung to Zack’s arms, the woman bent down and fluffed Corey’s hair. ‘Aren’t you just the cutest thing? Look
at these curls!’

He squirmed with delight. ‘What’s your name?’

‘You mean my first name? It’s Vanessa. You can call me that instead if you like.’

‘Me too?’ Reece added.

‘Well sure.’ She pointed at Westgate. ‘And his name is Phil.’

‘What about him?’ Zack nodded to a figure he could just make out in the shadows of the living room. He sensed more than saw that the man was watching them.

‘That’s
Mr Tragg,’ Westgate answered. ‘He isn’t part of our child-caring team so best not to bother him.’

‘If he’s not one of you then why’s he here?’

‘He helps out in other ways.’

Vanessa clapped her palms together. ‘So who wants a sandwich? We have peanut butter, bologna, cheese, ham . . .’

Her voice sounded phoney-cheerful to Zack but it worked well enough on Reece and Corey. They let go of his
hands for the first time since leaving the Learys’ and stood staring up at her all goo-goo eyed. As they told her what they wanted, Zack looked around.

Another strange house. How he hated this feeling. He’d been in so many these last three years. Smells were the worst. Even when they weren’t bad they were creepy and somehow they always brought on his dreams.

The nightmare was always the same
– a remnant from the one time he’d visited a pound. Only in his dream it wasn’t dogs in the cages, it was boys. And when the attendant came and hauled him out, dragged him outside to the idling truck – the one with the hose that ran from the tail pipe up into the little box at the back – that’s when he woke, gasping and choking and drenched in sweat.

He’d had his own home once upon a time. And
if not a full family at least a mom. But unlike Reece and Corey – and most other foster kids he had met – his mother hadn’t been forced to give him up. His mother hadn’t been an addict or a drunk. She simply hadn’t wanted him any more.

Oh, she’d said she did, but that was a lie. If it was true, she’d never have agreed to marry Paul. She’d have told him to go fuck
himself when he said he didn’t
want her bastard, that he wanted to start a family of his own. But no, she caved in, put her own son in foster care – swearing up and down she’d come back and get him some day – then went off and got herself killed in a car crash. The only good thing about it all was that Paul died, too.

‘Now before you eat I want you all to have a nice hot bath and put on the pyjamas I laid out for you.’ Vanessa
was herding them towards the staircase. ‘Throw your clothes in the big plastic bag. We’ve got new ones for you and you’ll get them tomorrow. The bathroom’s upstairs on the right. Go on up and I’ll call you when your sandwiches are ready.’

Reece and Corey took off at once.

Zack stood his ground. ‘How’d you guys know to have all this stuff here? How’d you know to have pyjamas and clothes and beds
all ready for us?’

The woman’s smile didn’t light up her eyes. ‘This is what’s called a safe house. We use it as a temporary shelter for lots of children so we always have clothes and other things on hand. Now why don’t you go up and look after your brothers?’

‘Isn’t that your job?’

The smile vanished.

‘Now, listen here, buddy.’ Westgate stepped forward.

‘Yeah, I’m going; don’t blow a gasket.’

The tub was half-filled when Zack reached the bathroom. Corey and Reece, their clothes strewn from one end of the room to the other, were seated inside it, madly frothing the water with their hands to create more bubbles.

What were they so damn happy about? Didn’t they realise there was every chance they’d end up in a place just as bad as, if not worse than, the Learys’? No, probably not, since
the Learys’ was the only foster home they had known.

Zack began picking up their clothes and shoving them into the
rubbish bag. ‘Knock it off, will ya? You’re getting water all over the place!’ He’d worked his way across the floor before noticing the others now seemed
too
quiet. He straightened and turned.

A stranger stood in the doorway. Bigger than Westgate with pock-marked skin and dark flat
eyes. This had to be Tragg, the guy from the living room.

Zack side-stepped in front of the tub.

The man moved past him without a word, lifted the toilet seat, unzipped his pants and started to pee. Looking over, he smiled at the three of them frozen and staring. Their silence only amused him further and he let out a laugh.

‘Zack?’ Corey’s voice quavered a little.

‘Just stay there.’

Tragg
shook himself, zipped up his pants and turned to face them. From the breast pocket of his shirt he pulled out a box of Junior Mints and opened the lid.

Again amusement tugged at his lips. ‘Want some candy, little boys?’ Then he shook out a mint, tossed it in his mouth and left the room laughing.

Zack exhaled the breath he’d been holding.

‘He’s creepy,’ Corey whispered.

‘Yeah, and ugly.’ Reece
made a face in imitation and Corey gave a nervous giggle.

‘Hey, don’t make fun of Hatchet Face; you might hurt his feelings.’ Zack pulled an even uglier face and the next thing the boys were laughing again.

Reece and Corey seemed to have forgotten their run-in with Tragg by the time they all sat down to dinner. It helped, Zack was sure, that the man had once again retreated to the living room
and was nowhere in sight. But the incident had left him
vaguely unsettled, and more than ever he wanted to learn all he could about these people.

‘What time are we leaving in the morning?’ he said.

Vanessa stood, pouring them each some milk. ‘Well, we’re not exactly sure we’ll be leaving tomorrow. It depends.’

‘On what?’

‘On whether the shelter has room for you. At the moment they’re full.’

‘There’s more than one place that could take us though, isn’t there? They can’t all be full.’

Before she could answer, a hand shot over Zack’s shoulder and snatched half the sandwich off his plate. The sharp scent of mint was suddenly in the air.

He looked up to find Tragg standing over him.

‘Kid’s right. There ought to be room at each place for one of them. Easiest thing is to just split ’em
up.’

As protests erupted from Corey and Reece, the man pushed the sandwich wedge in his mouth, chewed and swallowed it, holding Zack’s gaze the entire time.

Vanessa had finished settling the others by the time Tragg walked back into the living room. ‘Don’t worry, Zack. If we have to stay here an extra day you’ll have plenty to eat and lots to do.’

Zack nodded, grabbed his milk and took a big
gulp.

Westgate’s voice murmured up the stairwell. ‘Come on, admit it. I wasn’t bad. Even I believed the lines I was feeding them. Honestly, I missed my calling, I could’ve been an actor.’

‘You’re as conceited as one, I’ll give you that,’ Vanessa replied.

Zack inched closer to the top of the stairs. Reece and Corey were asleep in one of the bedrooms behind him. He hadn’t yet told them of
his fears, of his growing conviction that something was wrong and these people weren’t who they said they were. Before he did, he had to be sure.

Using the banister for cover, he knelt and peered down into the living room. Vanessa was perched on Westgate’s lap, one arm draped around his neck, a wine glass in her other hand.

‘You weren’t bad yourself,’ the man said. ‘Reading them stories, getting
them water, fussing over that stupid stuffed animal. I’ve never seen your nurturing side. Getting in touch with the mommy within, are you?’

‘Fuck off, Nolan.’

Vanessa pushed off from Westgate’s lap and crossed to the window. Nolan? Why had she called him that? Hadn’t she said his first name was Phil?

The man said something Zack didn’t catch and Vanessa responded.

‘Neighbourhood snitch told
us the kids were in foster care so it seemed the best way to get our hands on them.’

‘But how did Tragg organise things so fast?’

‘Lazaro’s got a man inside the department. The IDs, forms, the kids’ records, even the complaints about their careers . . . Everything he gave us was legit.’ She turned to him grinning. ‘And the best thing is, the Learys will never follow it up ’cause they’re guilty
as sin and never gave a shit to begin with.’

‘What about the kids’ real parents?’

‘What parents? Ballinger’s dad split before he was born and his mother’s dead. The other two are in a similar boat. There’s nothing to worry about, Nolan. I’m telling you.’

‘In theory at least.’

Zack was feeling sicker by the minute. Again the woman had used the name Nolan. He didn’t understand all they were
saying, but one thing was clear – these people didn’t sound like social workers.

Vanessa threw a hand up and stepped to the table to refill her glass. ‘If you’re that concerned, I suggest you tell Lazaro you changed your mind.’

‘Tell your uncle I want to pull out?’ The man laughed. ‘Like he’d really let me walk away now. Besides, I don’t want to. I’d just like to know what happens from here.’

‘As soon as it’s safe, we’ll take the three of them back to the warehouse. Tragg’s got someone casing the place and they’ll let him know.’

‘As soon as it’s safe?’

‘Some snoopy neighbour heard the commotion and called the cops. They’ve been crawling all over the place ever since.’

‘Well, how do you know
they
haven’t found the bag?’

‘’Cause they weren’t looking for it. A few specks of blood
is all they’ll find. Tragg got rid of the body when he left.’

Body? Zack clutched the slats with a white-knuckled grip. These definitely weren’t social workers.

Breathing hard, he pushed to his feet, then stood frozen. He’d heard enough – more than he wanted to! – but he just couldn’t tear himself away.

‘Boy, your pal Tragg sure fucked up.’ Nolan had lowered his voice a notch. ‘How does he
end up killing Giles
before
finding out where he stashed the money?’

‘It wasn’t intentional. He was working at getting the info out of him and things got out of hand.’

‘And the kids were there. They saw all this?’

‘We don’t know if they witnessed the killing but they were definitely there when Giles went in. They were spotted running out the back of the building.’

Zack fought to comprehend
what he was hearing. A building? Someplace they had all been together?

‘One of Tragg’s men followed them home,’ the woman went on, ‘but there were too many people around to grab them.’

‘So Tragg thinks the money’s still there in the warehouse.’

‘He’s had his eye on Giles for a while, thinks he’s been skimming from Lazaro for ages.’ The woman raised her glass in a toast. ‘And right now those
three snotty-nosed brats could be our only hope of getting it back.’

A punch of realisation left Zack gasping. The abandoned warehouse! Where he’d gone two days ago scavenging for scrap. Where Corey and Reece had suddenly appeared, having followed him in. Yes, they’d been there. Yes, they’d all seen a man come in carrying a sports bag. Yet none of them had seen where he’d hidden it. And when
these people found out they didn’t know . . .

Slowly he backed away from the stairs. He had to wake the others. They had to get out of here! They’d put on the clothes Vanessa had left for them and after the grown-ups were all asleep –

Fingers clamped around his throat, shoving him back. He hit the wall and clutched at the hand now sliding him upwards by his neck. Tragg’s minty breath enveloped
his face as his feet left the floor.

‘Well, well, who’s the Nosy Parker, eh?’

The fingers tightened. Zack gasped for breath. He pressed his bare soles against the wall, trying to take the weight off his throat. The hand held him firm.

‘Hearing some interesting tidbits, are we?’ Tragg leaned closer. ‘Should’ve heard them earlier, reading your file. Eight foster homes in less than three years
– that’s gotta be some kinda record. Why is it nobody wants you, eh? Not even Mommy.’