Authors: John Michael Hileman
Jake stepped out of his cubicle just as the boy rounded the corner, stomping even more loudly. How was that not bothering anyone?! Jake put his hands up. "All right, slow down. Slow down."
The boy came to a stop. "You know," he said, catching his breath, "When I run, it makes my skin all tingly.” He held his arms out. "I love that feeling."
Jake gave him a stern look. "You can't be running around in here like that."
"
This is the best place to do it!” His eyes glowed. "Listen,” he said, pounding his sneakered feet against the hard wood floor. "It makes noise underneath, and off the walls too!"
Jake stared, dumbfounded, then looked around the office. "Can no one hear this?!" he asked, loudly.
Three cubicles down his co-worker, Amy, poked her head up over the divider. "Hear what?"
"
This!" said Jake, thrusting his hands toward the little boy. Jake leaped backwards. "Wh- whoa!”
Amy's brow rose sharply. "You okay, Jake?"
He dropped to the floor and looked under the dividers. The boy wasn’t there, only the feet of his co-workers. "What on earth...?” he muttered.
"
Jake?"
"
Yes?!" He said with a groan.
"
What are you doing?"
He got back to his feet and looked around. "I think I'm losing my mind."
Her head cocked to the side. "Well, if you find it, let me know. Maybe mine's sitting next to it.” She gave him a crooked smile. "Well, gotta get back to work.” And with that, she ducked back down behind her office wall.
He wished he could do the same, but there was something bizarre happening, and there was no ignoring it. Children didn't just vanish from a busy office, or show up out of the blue for that matter.
Jake heard the elevator ding and turned to see Debbie stepping though the doors. Next to her, with the broadest grin he had ever seen, was the little boy.
"
Deb!" he blurted.
She was still talking to the accountant who was standing outside the elevator, but she looked up and acknowledged him.
"
DEB!" he shouted again, and took off down the aisle.
She glanced again and gave him a look as if to say, whatever your game is, I'm not playing.
"
No, Deb! Hold the door!"
Both of them were looking at him now, but that didn't stop her from letting the elevator doors close.
Jake rounded the corner and stopped. "Really? Really, Deb?"
The accountant laughed.
Jake ignored him and ran to the stairwell. Bob's office was only two floors up. If he pushed it, he might be able to get up there as she was stepping out. He took the stairs two at a time, gripping the rail and swinging himself around at each turn. In seconds he was on the fourth floor, pushing through the door and down the hall. Debbie was just stepping out of the elevator, the doors stood open behind her. As Jake barreled down the hallway, she turned toward him. Her arms crossed on top of her belly, and a look of irritation formed on her face.
Jake slowed himself and thrust his hand between the closing elevator doors. The bumpers squeezed against his flesh, and the doors reversed direction.
"
I've never seen someone run up two floors to catch an elevator," she said. "You know it does go back down."
Jake scanned the inside, but the little boy was gone.
"
I have a lot of work today, Jake. I'm about to go on maternity leave..."
"
Do you believe in ghosts?" he said, still staring into the hollow innards of the elevator.
He could feel her eyes probing him, noticing the sweat on his temple, the tightness of his jaw, the intensity of his expression.
"
You're serious." Her voice broke when she said it.
He swallowed. "Something strange is going on. I could have sworn I saw a little blond boy in here with you."
"
You ran up two flights of stairs because you thought there was a little boy in the elevator with me?"
He turned toward her, realizing by her expression, that he had probably said too much already. If he didn't implement some damage control soon, he might find himself the subject of endless water cooler discussions, or worse, fired. It was too late to deny what he had said, and there was no way to shrug it off as a joke—his only hope was to allow her to shrug it off as a joke.
"
Do you believe ghosts can haunt a building?" he pressed.
"
Yeah.” Her eyes got big. "Ghosts of little blond boys are haunting Data Tech."
"
I’ve heard about some strange things around here: doors opening by themselves, shadows on the stairwell wall, noises coming from empty rooms..."
She pressed her lips together and glared.
"
Now ghosts on the elevator." He shot her an intense look. "Did you feel his presence?" He secretly hoped she would give him a straight answer, but knew her well enough to know she wouldn't.
"
You dope." She punched his arm. "I actually thought you were serious."
He grinned, and rubbed his arm.
"
You think it's funny scaring pregnant women?"
He shrugged sheepishly, "It's kinda funny."
"
I hope Bob buries you in leads."
Bob! Jake had completely forgotten his meeting with Bob! He took off down the hall, scooted through Deb's office, and knocked on Bob's door.
Bob's voice was muffled. "Come in, Jake."
Jake stepped into the office. Bob sat behind his desk motioning for Jake to have a seat. Where were the sales papers? Jake noted the somber look on Bob’s face, and fear clawed at his heart. This wasn’t a sales meeting. It was something far worse. Jake took a seat and attempted to mask his nervousness.
Bob took his glasses off and set them on his desk. "Jake, as you know, money has been tight, and we've all been working hard to make up the difference.” He looked Jake in the eye. Then looked away. "But we just haven't been able to pull out of this downward trend." Bob's defeated expression spoke volumes. This wasn't about the ping pong table or the cafeteria incentives. Jake was about to lose his job.
"
I'm sorry it's come to this. You're a hard worker, Jake." He paused. "Truth is, you’re a great programmer, but I need great sales guys. I need guys who can squeeze blood from a stone."
Jake stared out the window. He didn't believe his day could get any worse—but he couldn't have been more wrong.
"
I have to let you go until things pick up."
There it was. He knew the words were coming, but they stung anyway. Four years he’d spent building a career in software development, and now what was he going to do? There was nothing in Sunbury. Data Tech was the only software company in the area. And he didn't have the resources to move to a larger city. His credit was maxed. How would he ever match his current salary working at a retail outlet? A smothering heaviness settled on his chest.
"
I'm sorry, Jake. It's beyond my control."
Jake looked at his lap, then at Bob. "If things turn around, can you give me a call?"
"
You'll be the first one."
Jake stood up and offered his hand. Their eyes met as they shook, and Jake hid the fact that his world was crumbling around him.
Chapter 5
The cramped downtown apartment was alive with activity, but Holly Paris was utterly alone. Everything that mattered to her in the world was gone. Six years ago, she couldn't have imagined her life with a child in it. But now, she couldn't imagine living without one.
Her little boy was the only person in this whole God-forsaken world who saw her as more than white trailer trash. There was no judgment behind his beautiful green eyes. There was no condemnation in the creases of his lips. And there was no expression of pity. That was the look she hated most. Poor pitiful Holly—can't get her life together. It was the same look the slightly overweight blond FBI agent was giving her now as she spoke with a neighbor in the doorway. Holly scratched her wrist compulsively. She’d hated this world before Gabe entered it. Now the horror of living without his hugs and his smile was more than she could bear.
The officer she knew as McConnell came out of the kitchen and whispered something into the ear of the agent. The agent nodded, checked her notepad, then looked at Holly while still speaking to the neighbor in the doorway. "Thank you, Mr. Jackson. If you see or hear anything, you have my number.”
The man produced a set of uneven yellow teeth that still seemed bright against his dark leathery skin. "Yes, Ma’am, I do. And I'll let you know, because I'm like that. I'm a law abiding citizen. You ask people. They tell you.”
"
You're free to go, Mr. Jackson.”
The old black man bowed several times in jerky motions, then backed his way out of the apartment. Holly wished she could do the same. She dreaded the attention she was getting. There was no way she could have covered all her tracks; they were bound to stumble onto something she didn't want them to see. Then it wouldn't matter if they found her son, because the same people who came as rescuers would turn on her without hesitation and rip her child from her desperate hands. They wouldn't see how much she needed her son, or how much he needed her. They would only see an unfit mother and a child in need of protective services. It was all rules and regulations with these so-called "civil servants." Her thumbnail dug into the already torn skin on her wrist. She never should have called them. She should have handled this herself.
Sergeant McConnell turned toward her. "Holly, this is Special Agent Grant. She is here to help you get your son back. Please give her your full cooperation.”
Agent Grant slid aside the flipped tips of her retro bob hairstyle, and produced a smile. Her hazel eyes didn’t feel as piercing and judgmental as Holly had expected, but she was still not comforted. She was beyond comforting. The shock of losing her son had left her a hollow shell.
"
Agent is so formal. Please, call me Angela.” She offered her hand. "I know you're scared, but I need you to be brave.”
Holly nodded.
"
As you know, your son is not the first to be taken. Sergeant McConnell told me you've been watching the news.”
Holly swallowed.
"
You have to get that out of your mind. Each of these cases has been different, and you're already off to a good start. You called us right away, and we were able to respond quickly. We've learned some things about how this kidnapper works and are going to do everything we can.” She looked Holly in the eye. "I believe we can get him. Do you understand this?”
Holly scratched her wrist and nodded.
Agent Grant took a seat in a kitchen chair that had been moved into the living room, looked at her watch, and waved to one of the officers waiting patiently behind her. He placed a laptop on the black formica coffee table between them, turned it toward Holly, and stepped back.
"
I'm going to ask you to do something now, Holly, something hard. You don't have to do it. But, if you do, you could help us get your son back. You do want to get your son back, right?"
A shiver caused Holly's body to quake.
Agent Grant looked up at the officer. He pulled out a plastic evidence bag with a large piece of brown paper bag in it. He laid it on the coffee table and slid it across. Glued to the paper bag was a photo from an ink jet printer. It was a picture of children's blocks, two sets of two numbers stacked on four sets of three numbers.
Holly's eyes widened. "What’s this?”