Girl in Trouble Page 13

  At breakfast, she'd tried talking him into another trip to the backyard, but he said he had an appointment. His eyes had darted back and forth, not paying much attention to her, like he was lost in thought.

  She picked out another book. They all looked old and boring—and she usually liked reading. Maybe they would sound more interesting if she wasn't locked in someone else's bedroom. She shoved the book back and went to the window.

  It was windy outside with a slight drizzle—the perfect fall day. It would be so much fun to run around in the grass, kicking up leaves. She and her friends loved piling up the leaves when they weren't too wet and throwing them at each other. It was also fun to hide in a pile and scare someone when they walked by.

  Ariana giggled, thinking of a few days earlier when she'd scared Emily real bad. Then they'd teamed up and ambushed some of the boys, covering them in leaves.

  What she wouldn't give to be able to go to school the next day. She'd even take two packs of homework if she could just show up and see her friends.

  She leaned her forehead against the cold glass and sighed. What did Lloyd have planned? Just for her to continue her existence like this, pretending to be his sister?

  Sadness washed through her at the thought of never returning to her old life. No, to her life. It wasn't old, it was where she belonged. Where she needed to be.

  There had to be a way out. Maybe she hadn't looked hard enough before. Or in the right places.

  Ariana walked around the perimeter of the room for what felt like the five-millionth time. Everything looked the same—sealed tight to keep her inside. She just had to look harder. Think more. Get creative.

  She'd learned about how to get out of the trunk of a car—kicking the lights and stuff. The details were fuzzy, but the point was that there was always something she could do. Overpowering Lloyd was out of the question, but what if she could outsmart him? She could find a way out that he'd never thought of.

  Sighing, she sat on the bed and glanced around, doing her best to think of something new. There had to be something she'd overlooked—that Lloyd had.

  But what?

  She studied the walls and the door. The lock was on the outside, but part of it was on this side. It was just a silver lump with a keyhole. Maybe she could find a way to unlock it. Sure, she didn't have the key, but that couldn't be the only way to get through. Everything in the room was ancient, and she'd seen old movies where people used bobby pins and paper clips to get through locks.

  What if that worked?

  Her mind raced, trying to figure out if she'd seen anything like that anywhere. Nothing came to mind, but she hadn't been looking, either. She would have to check the bathroom whenever Lloyd came back and let her go.

  In the meantime, she needed to go through every drawer, nook, and cranny in the bedroom. Even if she didn't find anything useful, she might get an idea of something else to try. With as often as he left her alone in the house, she had plenty of time to find an escape.

  Ariana opened the top drawer in the desk, but only saw blank stationary paper. Not even a pencil or a pen, much less paper clips. She moved to the top side drawer. Just erasers and some notepads. The next two drawers didn't hold anything useful, either.

  She went over to the dresser, hoping that might be her answer. Perhaps Jan had left a paper clip in a pocket and Lloyd hadn't noticed when washing the laundry. Ariana rifled through the clothes, not finding anything. Even checking all the pockets didn't yield a single stray item.

  The sound of gravel crunching under tires startled her. Lloyd was back and she had clothes strewn all over the room.

  Panic-stricken, Ariana rushed around the room, grabbing clothes. She'd barely folded two shirts when a car door slammed outside. Her heart raced as she tried to fold everything neatly. Her hands shook, making it even more difficult.

  The car alarm beeped outside.

  "Please don't come in here," Ariana begged as she folded a powder blue hoodie.

  Noises sounded downstairs, but it didn't sound like he was coming up. She breathed a sigh of relief and continued folding clothes as fast as she could.

  Just as she was putting away the final pair of pants, the deadbolt clicked.

  Ariana slammed the drawer, grabbed a random book, and jumped onto the bed. She opened it to the middle and noticed it was upside down. She flipped it upright.

  The door opened.

  She looked up, trying to act natural.

  Lloyd glanced around the room before landing his gaze on her. He played with the zipper on his coat, seeming to be in the same distracted mood as before. "You hungry?"

  "Yeah, but I really have to use the bathroom."

  "Sorry about being gone so long." He paused. "Something came up."

  "It's okay. Can I go?"

  He stepped aside, and Ariana ran past him, eager to see what she could find. She closed the bathroom door behind her and did her business. She turned on the water to make it sound like she was washing her hands, but she went through the drawers. She found a brush, a comb, some bars of soap, towels, her toothbrush, and toothpaste. Nothing useful.

  "Are you okay in there?" Lloyd called.

  She turned off the water and messed up the hand towel before opening the door. "Yep."

  "Okay. Let's eat. I picked something up on the way." He took her hand and led her to the kitchen. A couple bags from a fried chicken place sat on the table. "Grab some plates. I'll get the cups and some juice."

  Without a word, Ariana pulled a couple plates down. Then she opened the silverware drawer and put a couple forks on the plates. The butter knives caught her eye.

  Could she use one of those to work loose the lock?

  She glanced over at Lloyd. His face was blocked by the fridge door.

  Heart thundering, she reached for a knife and slid it into the sleeve of her shirt.

  Alone

  Zoey rolled over and woke up when her hand hit the empty pillow next to her. The fight with Kellen filled her mind and her stomach twisted in tight knots.

  How could he do that to her in a time like this? When Ariana was missing? She needed him now more than ever.

  She reached for her phone, hoping for news about Ari. Nothing besides the now-typical flood of sympathetic texts, many from complete strangers. How they'd managed to find her number was beyond her.

  Zoey scrolled through them to make sure she hadn't missed anything important. It didn't look like it. She found her earlier texting conversation with her mom and sent her a text.

  Have you heard anything?

  No. Called the station earlier. Nothing new.

  Not even after the conference?

  They're going over leads.

  OK. Thx.

  She rolled over and closed her eyes. What was she supposed to do? It tore her apart that she couldn't do anything to help Ari. Nobody could until they found her.

  There had to be something she could do. Maybe one of the leads would pan out, but in the meantime, she would go crazy in her apartment. But what could she do?

  Fliers. They could hand those out—she could set up a big party like the one they'd had for Macy. It had seemed like the whole town had shown up. Their whole neighborhood had, plus a whole bunch of people she'd never seen. They'd canvassed the streets, getting the word out. It seemed like holding an actual paper made it more real for people than just seeing a picture on TV or the computer.

  Tears welled up.

  "I'm not going to be weak," she muttered and sat up. No, she would focus on setting up the flier party. She could order some of the police fliers to be printed at the nearest office supply store and then spread the word about the party. Thank God for social media. She could publish one post and tell all her friends to share it. Thousands would see it in minutes.

  Zoey downloaded the flier to her phone and placed an order for five thousand copies, paying for a rush job. She posted the info about handing out fliers and meeting at the park next to Mom's house. She tagged as many people
as she was allowed and then got into the shower.

  Even if no one else showed, she would hand out every one of those papers herself. But given how everyone had rallied around them, the more likely scenario was that she should've ordered more copies.

  Before getting in the shower, she called Kellen. After the second ring, it went to voicemail.

  He was ignoring her call.

  She tried again, but after the first ring, it went to voicemail.

  More tears threatened. She shook her head, refusing to give in to them.

  Instead, she sent Kellen a text.

  We need to talk.

  She gathered her clothes and checked her phone again. Kellen hadn't responded.

  I don't want space. Talk to me.

  Zoey got into the shower, her mind racing back and forth between Ariana, the fliers, and Kellen. When she got out, she still had no new texts or calls.

  She decided to give Kellen one last text.

  Everyone's gathering at the park to hand out fliers. Hope you'll be there.

  Her stomach rumbled, despite her having no appetite. She grabbed some fruit on the way out and hoped that would be enough.

  Setup

  Knock, knock.

  Alex saved his file. "Come in."

  Mom came in and gave him a sad smile. "Have you gotten any sleep?"

  "Some. There's no time to worry about it now."

  She rubbed his shoulders. "I know the feeling. I'm not getting enough myself. It feels like we're reliving Macy's disappearance all over again."

  "I don't know how you did it." He blew out a series of short breaths to calm himself. "Especially for so long."

  "You know, sometimes when I think back to it, I wonder how we did it, too." She paused. "It drove me to do some things I never thought I'd do."

  Alex turned around. "What do you mean?"

  Mom frowned. "The stress really gets to you. It affects the way you see everything. Just make sure you're taking care of yourself—sleeping enough, eating enough. It keeps your mind clear."

  "Easier said than done."

  "Don't I know it." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I didn't come in to talk about that. I wanted to let you know that people are gathering down at the park again to hand out fliers."

  "Again?"

  "Sorry. I can't stop thinking back to Macy. I'm just as scared." Tears filled her eyes.

  Pain gripped Alex. He jumped up and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned her head against his shoulder and sobbed. Alex rubbed her back, fighting his own tears. Mom's cries were too much for him. He thought of Ariana, and the floodgates opened. Together, he and his mom cried until she finally stepped back and wiped her eyes.

  "W-we should get to the park." She wiped mascara from under her eyes.

  Alex cleared his throat and nodded. "I'll be down there in a few minutes. I'm going to take a quick shower." He looked like crap.

  Mom nodded. "Sure, hon. I'm going to have to wash my face. I don't know what I was thinking, wearing makeup."

  "You're pretty without it."

  She kissed his cheek and headed out the door.

  Alex grabbed some clothes from the dresser—Mom had never gotten rid of his high school clothes. Luckily, they all fit. He'd put on some weight, but not much, apparently.

  Just as he stepped out of the room, his phone buzzed on the desk. He almost ignored it—but what if it was news about Ariana?

  He went over and dropped his clothes next to the phone. There was a text from his boss.

  Get over here now.

  Anger surged through Alex. How dare he? Not only was it Sunday—his one day off—but Darren knew Alex was dealing with Ariana's abduction.

  Alex replied to the text.

  Go to hell.

  His thumb hovered over the send button before deleting it.

  I'm about to go to a rally for my missing kid.

  No, you're on your way here.

  Why?!

  Because of what we just found in your locker.

  There was nothing in his locker besides extra clothes.

  What are you talking about?

  The thing you didn't want us to find.

  Stop being vague.

  The drugs, stupid!

  He stared at the last text, trying to make sense of it.

  Get down here now before I call the cops.

  Alex swore. Had one of his idiot coworkers stuck something in his locker since he never locked it? There was nothing worth stealing, so he never bothered. He needed to get to the rally.

  Are you coming? I don't *want* to call the cops.

  But he couldn't help find Ariana if he was behind bars. He needed to sort this out right away, and then come back to the rally.

  On my way now.

  Good.

  How could this be happening? Why now? Alex stormed around the room, looking for his keys. They'd fallen between his desk and dresser. He stuffed them in his pocket and stomped downstairs.

  Mom and Dad were putting their shoes and coats on.

  "What's wrong?" Dad asked.

  "I have to go talk to my boss."

  "Now?" he exclaimed. "Doesn't he know—?"

  "He knows, but I could get fired if I don't go." Actually, Alex didn't care about getting canned. He would deal with the jerk later, but he didn't want to tell his parents Darren had all but threatened him with jail time. "I'll be back to hand out fliers, I swear." He might not be able to get back, but he would do his best.

  "You want me to call him?" Mom asked.

  "No," Alex said too quickly. "That would only make things worse. I'm an adult. I'll handle this."

  "Well, if you need anything, you have our numbers."

  Alex gave a quick nod and slid on his boots. "Thanks." He rushed out the door, got into his beater, and floored it.

  As he drove, his mind raced with theories. He knew of more than a handful of coworkers who did various illegal drugs. Any one of them could've put them in accidentally if they were high. He couldn't think of one who had it out for him, though.

  Then just as he turned off the freeway, it hit him.

  What if Flynn had been behind it?

  The mysterious message had promised Alex he would pay for interfering.

  Fired

  Alex stormed into Darren's office. "If you're going to accuse me of something, do it to my face."

  Darren glanced up and narrowed his squinty eyes. "There's marijuana in your locker, Mercer."

  "You suggesting I put it there? And by the way, it's legal, so calling the cops wouldn't do you a lot of good." Alex wanted to punch Darren for making him drive all the way to work for nothing.

  "Do you have a medical condition I don't know about?" Darren asked. He fidgeted with a pen.

  "Nope, because it's not mine."

  "Who does it belong to?" Darren slid off his dress jacket and rose from his expensive, plush chair.

  "Uh, how about anyone? Half the crew is into a lot worse than weed."

  "Everyone who works here has your locker combo?" He arched a manicured brow that earned him countless jokes behind his back, and stared Alex down.

  "I leave it unlocked!"

  "It was locked when I checked it today." Darren looked away and frowned.

  "Clearly, whoever planted it locked it." Alex clenched his jaw.

  "Are you saying you're being set up?" Darren's voice was so low Alex almost couldn't hear him.

  Alex studied him. His confident boss was uncharacteristically unsure. Alex took a deep breath. "It sure looks that way. How'd you find out about this, anyway?"

  Darren licked his lips and kept his gaze low. "Doesn't matter."

  Alex slammed his fists on the desk. "It matters!"

  Darren jumped and finally looked at Alex. "A threat."

  Fury tore through Alex. Probably the same person harassing him. "From who?"

  "It was anonymous."

  "They threatened you?"

  "My family. Consider this a layoff. I don't want to do this
, but…" His voice trailed off. He reached under his desk, pulled out a cardboard box, and handed it to Alex. "Let's clear out your things."

  "Why'd you have me waste my time to come down here? You could've fired me over the phone!"

  "It's part of the deal. You have to take your things home. I'm not going to turn you in. Just clear out your locker. I'll give you a good referral if you need one."

  Alex stared at him, unable to find words. He shook his head, stormed to the lockers, and crammed his clothes and spare boots into the box. He stormed out of the building and threw the box in the back of his car. He couldn't think straight and didn't want to face the long drive back to his parents' place in the mood he was in. He peeled away, sending rocks spraying through the employee parking lot.

  He went home to check on the apartment. The paint was still peeling and the floor still stained from previous renters. Everything was just as he'd left it. He grabbed a few clothes and took them out to his car, throwing them into the box.

  Alex turned on the music and took a deep breath. He needed—wanted—to get to the park and hand out fliers, but in the mood he was in, he'd only reinforce everyone's preconceived notions of him. He'd likely punch someone. He should've hit Darren. The dill weed deserved it.

  He went to the bar—he'd only have one drink to calm his nerves. Then he'd be able to drive, and he would at least feel a little better.

  Inside, Cole greeted him with a surprised expression. "Didn't expect to see you here."

  "Me, neither," Alex grumbled and sat on a stool. "Get me a beer, would you?"

  "Sure thing." He grabbed one, removed the cap, and slid it over.

  Alex drank most of it in one swig.

  "Any news on your daughter?" Cole asked.

  "Nope." Alex finished it off.

  "Want another?"

  Alex shook his head, dug out a bill from his pocket, and set it on the counter. "I just need to think."

  "So you came all the way here?" Cole leaned on the counter.

  "I was in the neighborhood. Boss made me come in to fire me in person."

  "Fire you? For what?"