Con Riley's jaw dropped an inch after Callie finished telling him, Chief Collig and Special Agent Simon how she intended to, with their help, find Hallie. The young FBI agent brows had rose in some disbelief and Chief Collig, being a typical old-world male, had a grudging look of commendation for a girl 'who didn't know how to spell the word, "dead"'.
Elle, the other lady, listened with practiced coolness.
"Get the map of Porters' Bay." Agent Simon Lee spoke first, addressing all of them gathered around Callie's hospital bed. "We have to figure out the directions to figure out where it should lead us."
***
His brother looked like he was dissolving into the sheets. Frank knew it took time for the anesthesia to work its way out of Joe's system but he seriously wondered if Joe was even trying to fight. Every second seemed like an eternity to wait and in his mind, he saw himself still holding on to Joe who was bleeding, soaking Frank's shirt with his crimson life.
The doctor had explicitly said everything was in Joe's court now. Frank had no doubt that his family would be sleeping in the ICU ward visitors' lounge for many days to come as they each take turns to watch over Joe. Frank had always wanted his brother to come back to Bayport to reunite with them out of his own free will, which was why even though he nagged at Joe over the phone, he never forced or threatened. But if he had known returning would bring Joe to such a tragic fate, he would have strapped Joe to his work desk in Chicago and never let Joe come back.
"So you see, Hallie will be fine. The question now, little brother, is whether you want to see her smiling at you, smearing chocolate ice-cream on your face. If you do, then please… please…"
He inhaled in deeply, sucking back his tears.
"Whatever you do, baby bro, please come back to us."
***
Callie sat behind the Toyota- the same make and model as the one that Richard Thompson used solely for his nefarious activity. The police had a rough idea of where they should go as she translated her own style of coordinates into proper directions but she insisted on going along since she was the one who best knew how to get to Hallie. The doctor wanted her to rest but she felt she had rested enough.
The sun was up- the longest night of their lives was over.
When the kidnapper had brought her to the cabin to tease her by bringing her so close to Hallie and then, pulling her away again, she had pressed her brain cells for the simplest and most ingenious idea to be able to find her way back to Hallie if she got rescued first. Call it women's intuition, she really did felt like they would all be counting on her to find Hallie when the kidnapper had slammed the lid of the car's trunk down on her. Now, she only hoped that being in the darkness had not messed up her sense of direction.
What she had done was simple. After gaining her sense of orientation, she merely started counting and corresponded the numbers with the direction the car turned. Each time the car turned, she would start counting from one again, remembering which number she stopped counting at before. So she had coordinates like two-hundred and five, turn left. Four-hundred and eighty two, turn right. It was tough to remember because the turns were so many but she persevered on and didn't allow herself to become flustered.
There was a long list of custom-made coordinates to commit to memory and perhaps knowing that a young life depended on her made her brain worked extra hard. She was very sure of herself and when the police translated her directions into proper, possible routes starting from the farmhouse, they hit an end point somewhere in the surrounding woods.
109, 110, 111, 112…
"Left… turn left here. There are marks of tires! We're on the right track!!!" She tapped Special Agent Simon's shoulder urgently. He backed up a little and turned to his left. The forest wasn't dense but it was splayed with confusing tracks and trails. If Callie's estimation of the car's speed was wrong or she had miscounted or her memory of the corresponding directions they had to take were jumbled up, then they would have to make time-wasting detours and start all over again.
God should be kind now and let them hit jackpot on first attempt. Hallie must be feeling so lonely and hungry…
And they would have to bring her home to her mommy… and especially her daddy.
"As you say, madam." Simon followed the trail they were on and cast an admiring glance at her from the rearview mirror. Callie caught him stealing a fleeting look at serious Elle who was sitting beside her in the backseat, clasping her hand in a show of solidarity. In spite of her anxiety and desperate hope that she was bringing all of them to the right place, she couldn't help but wondered if a romance was brewing soon.
At least for the boyish FBI agent.
"What do I do now?" Simon asked, driving straight, looking a little worried now that he had been driving for quite some time without further instructions from Callie.
"It's straight ahead about… about five minutes…. 60 times 5… yup… 300. 5 minutes."
"You have a remarkable memory, Callie…"
"And you can stop flirting and concentrate. We're looking for a little girl here!" Elle shot him a reproach. Callie clamped her mouth shut, seeing Agent Simon bristling for a while. He kept quiet and drove the rest of the way when suddenly, Elle stuck her head out of the window and exclaimed.
"I see a cabin peeking out from the trees over there…. Hurry! You're driving slower than my grandmother!"
"Hey! I have to drive at the estimated speed of forty miles an hour!" Simon countered defensively but sped up all the same. The sudden surge in speed threw the girls back against their seat.
"Do you know how to drive?! She's injured here! What if you reopen her wound?" Elle spat and Callie prayed that the obvious attraction Simon had for Elle could prevent him from killing the insufferable girl.
"I'm fine, Elle…" Callie spoke softly, trying to calm her friend down. Elle seethed at the driver and checked Callie's bandaged briefly before she was reassured that Callie was all right.
"I can't win, can I? Too slow, too fast. Make up your mind, Miss!" Simon hissed sharply but kept his eyes on the road. Callie caught sight of the pond and tapped his shoulder.
"Pull up here…"
"I know! I'm not stupid!" Simon, now a bundle of self-conscious nerves after his Elle-torment, braked to a halt and climbed of the car. Behind them in another car, Con Riley with his team of three other policemen pulled up and quickly exited to offer Simon back-up.
Elle laid a restraining hand on Callie's lap when Callie was about to open the door.
"No, Cal. The road is very uneven. You stay in the car and wait for us…"
"But… I…"
"Simon and I can handle this. Please… if you fall down and injure yourself further, your fiancé will kill me."
Callie stared at the rocky ground and nodded. Elle smiled at her grimly before exiting from the car, breaking into a slow jog to catch up with the agent who had readied his gun for any sudden eventualities.
She gazed out of the car window, praying silently that there were no more hurdles to climb. That Hallie was still alive.
Three policemen waited outside in a ready position while Con Riley, Agent Simon and Elle disappeared into the dilapidated cabin after checking it from the outside- their actions laced with excitement from what they saw through the window. Callie, unable to wait anymore, threw her car door open and stepped out unsteadily. She stumbled a few treacherous steps forward and almost fell as a sharp pain shot through up her leg. Grabbing her left thigh, she stopped moving for a while, letting the immobilizing pain pass.
The door to the cabin opened. Simon and Con Riley stepped out with a grin on each of their face and a covered cage in Con's hand. Behind them, held close to Elle's bosom, was a little girl with grimy golden hair. The cries of a child pierced through the peace of the forest and Callie's body shook before she broke down into tears of relief as she straightened herself the best she could. Elle bounced the crying Hallie, trying to shush her while she walked over to Callie, smiling a little helplessly. Callie stretched her hands out to hold Hallie and Elle gratefully passed the child in her arms, supporting her at the same time so she wouldn't fall.
"It's heartless of him to leave her all alone here… with a snake." Con Riley lifted up the cage, his face wrinkled up in disgust. "Kind of made me think the fate that befallen him is too easy."
Callie soothed Hallie's hair as the child cried on her shoulder, breathing irregularly through her hiccups. But she was calmed down somewhat because Callie was a familiar, comforting figure and she finally knew she was safe.
"Thanks, Callie. You've been a great help." Elle commended her, a look of respect flashed across her eyes. Callie smiled at her and nodded.
"I'm just doing what I can. Now… Hallie…" She looked into the lavender eyes which were swollen with tears and kissed her soon-to-be niece's forehead.
The sun blazed brightly high up in the sky. Right then, Callie didn't mind the summer heat at all.
"Do you want to see mommy and daddy?"
***
Vanessa stood by the entrance of Bayport Hospital with Greg and Andrea. Laura and Fenton were in the ICU ward, looking over their son but they were excited by the news too and wanted to bring it to Joe. They desperately wished that Joe could hear them in his sub-consciousness, giving him concrete reasons to live for.
She waited for the sight of the police car which would bring Hallie home to her. There was no perfect jubilation in her heart though- she was more than happy, more than elated, but it was marred by the fact that Joe could not share that moment. He had risked his life for his daughter and now, Hallie was coming home safe and he couldn't be there to hold her in his arms.
And what did she do? She stayed behind in Bayport, praying and waiting by the phone. Sure, she went with Fenton to question the difficult Kathyrn Jones but that was all. Surely Joe deserved to be there more than her?
Let the bad luck be on me, not on Hallie and not on Joe.
The sirens of the police car grew louder out of nothingness and her heart skipped a beat. Her daughter- she was finally going to see her daughter, touch her and hug her. Greg drew her closer, sharing in her joy.
The car pulled up in front of the hospital porch and there were people loitering about, wondering what would transpire. Would an injured criminal be hauled by the Bayport's finest inside the hospital with his hands cuffed? Or would it be a crying victim of violence, hailing rants of injustice?
Vanessa knew. She knew her daughter was coming home. A glorious homecoming.
When the door opened, Vanessa's hands flew to her mouth and she broke down immediately. All the tensed up paranoia of ill-luck, all those nights spent worrying- they all didn't matter. What mattered most was this wailing little girl, having struggled out of the Con Riley's gentle grip, was running over to her; screaming for her.
"Mommy!!! Mommy!!!!"
Vanessa knelt down and stretched out her hands. Hallie crashed into her and she held her little girl close to her bosom, vowing silently never to let her go again. She kissed the grimy hair and cheeks repeatedly, whispering words of love and assurance. Hallie was still crying and there was nothing worse than hearing fear and innocence lost in a child's voice, especially her own child.
"It's ok, baby. Mommy's here… mommy will never, ever lose you again…"
Never.
***
"Joe… they are on their way to bring Hallie here as we speak. Callie's way of finding Hallie worked. She also wants to remind you that she has a terrific memory and scores to settle with you for all the pranks you pulled on her before. Hallie's coming back, Joe. And she'll want to see her daddy… that's you… . I know you can hear me...I know you can…C'mon bro… fight!" Frank gripped his brother left hand as he soothed Joe's creaseless forehead. He was so exhausted- his eyelids were painful and his muscles ached but he could not sleep. He had to watch over Joe and, if Death should come, the skeletal hands would have to go through him first.
The sight of Joe lying there debilitated was not something Frank could take with his characteristic coolness. Many times, looking upon his brother, Frank thought he would lose it. If the monitor was not showing a running, jagged line, he would have thought he was holding onto the hand of a corpse.
Suddenly, the whine of the monitoring equipment's alarm pierced through the sacred silence of the ICU ward. Frank shot a look on the greenish monitor and dropped Joe's hand abruptly, dashing out of the room, yelling at the top of his lungs desperately for a doctor.
