7
Again feeling tired, hungry, and helpless, Gracie twisted in her makeshift bed. No longer as afraid now that she'd talked to Harry, Gracie was confident that her mom and Harry would soon be able to find her and capture the man. And the picture…she happily reached for it where it now lay across her pillow next to her.
But, she began to reconsider, why shouldn't she be able to do something to help in the meantime? Puzzled as to what she could do to get away, her brain began to function as she remembered the bobby pin in her pocket. "I should have thought of that before," she said to no one in particular. Having already taught herself how to pick locks by watching her mother, she grabbed the single bobby pin in her short's pocket with ease. She had already twisted into a position where she could take anything she needed from her pocket, though there wasn't anything else left to take.
She held it up with a triumphant gleam. Gently, Gracie poked the lock of the handcuffs until she heard a soft click, and… "Yes," she whispered excitedly. Freeing her arm, she shook it loose to get rid of the cutting sensation she had been experiencing and realized she could do something to get away if she hurried.
Gracie knew it had to be quiet, so as to not wake the man, even though he was upstairs and the door was shut, so she quietly crept to where a large basin stood in the corner. Looking up at the only window, though it was locked and covered well with thick and crusty white paper and duct tape, she tried to push the basin over underneath it. As it scraped the floor, however, she realized it was making too much noise, so she tried putting her arms around the basin and lifting it to under the window.
Frowning, Gracie realized neither way would work. So instead she lifted a few lightweight boxes from another corner and put them down in front of the window. She grinned at her own handiwork as she climbed on top of them, first making sure they were steady and then tried to peer through the window. The pre-teen lightly ripped the paper so only a small slit was open, then lifted the taped down paper to see for herself that it was very late, probably past midnight, she guessed.
Seeing the handle of the window locked and bolted, she knew there wouldn't be any way to escape that way. But the man had underestimated Gracie. With Harry for a father and Laura for a mother, he had really no idea what he had gotten himself into by taking her.
Feeling the boxes begin to totter under her, Gracie unsteadily gripped the window ledge. Before the boxes could collapse and wake the man, alerting him to her movements, Gracie climbed down, tossed the boxes back into their heap, and raced back to her bed. When she heard no noises, she realized it was probably safe, but wanting to be very careful and resourceful, she took no chances. The girl waited another few minutes, managing not to let her eyes droop too much as she laid on her cot, then got up again to explore possibilities.
After a few minutes of searching, something caught Gracie's eye, something that she knew, as she smiled a wide smile, a trademark of her mother, would help her to plan a smart escape that the man wouldn't even know about.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sean sat at his grungy kitchen table, unable to sleep, plagued by feelings of doubt and guilt, shame and agony. Sleep was a luxury that he no longer enjoyed since Maryn's death and it had become a regular occurrence to instead sit in a dark place to think. The man was barely able to keep a handle on his need for revenge on Harry. In his mind, the guilt weighing down his soul would be lifted when Harry had suffered and paid for Maryn's death. Her precious, sweet life ripped out from under her because of a stupid mistake on his part, taking in a young boy who he'd thought seemed harmless.
Maryn had been the only thing to keep him on the straight and narrow. Before his daughter's birth, he'd been working in the bar, drinking, fighting, blaming everyone and everything for his misfortune…not caring whether he lived or died. But in one night, everything changed, the tables turned, and he met Brighid. Finding a new energy in her carefree ways, Sean began to find small reasons to change. And when Brighid told him of her pregnancy, while she was upset, he was overjoyed. It was just what he needed to change…a new life that was a fresh start.
After giving birth to a baby girl they named Maryn, he and Brighid struggled to be the perfect parents to her, trying to avoid making the same mistakes their parents had made with them. Before long, however, she was unable to handle the pressures and left him with only a one-year-old and a small salary to live on. He refused to be bitter. Instead, he decided again that he could do better, if not for himself, then for his sweet daughter. Out of that need, his bed-and-breakfast was formed in his own house, furnished with creamy white walls with apple borders, wicker furniture, and a cozy atmosphere to please customers.
But, in the very instant he'd found Harry kneeling above her as she bled to death on her bedroom floor…he'd become a bitter old man with a sickness and a thirst for revenge. Finding the house empty, he missed the simple hugs and kisses, the little face created in the likeness of her mother, the unconditional adoration and love…how his heart ached for the little girl that would forever remain a memory. Pausing from staring into the only picture the wretched boy had left him of Maryn to let a thick cough escape his throat, Sean narrowed his eyes angrily.
Downstairs was a tool, a very powerful one, indeed, an innocent little girl like Maryn that belonged to Harry. It was brilliant, he thought, as he stared past the window and curtains without seeing them. How Harry hadn't known he had a daughter, and yet Sean had figured it out…and now her life was in his hands as Maryn's had been in the boy's.
Gracie was hauntingly similar to Maryn in so many ways, but so different in others. The features and colors were all wrong, but the attitudes and personalities…if he had wanted, perhaps, he could have replaced Maryn's memory with Gracie's, just to keep her and take her away from the father she'd never known. But it wasn't that easy, he reminded himself, and besides, the object of the game was to make them suffer by doing the same thing Harry had done, not to keep the child locked away forever.
Without removing his eyes from the laughing picture, Sean reached for his cordless phone. He could feel the need pulling at him from the inside, the need to get under Harry's skin, the need to push, push, push until those tiny shoves sent him over the edge. But he resisted the temptation to call again so soon. He wanted to spread things out, give the frantic parents time to feel the panic rising as if it would suffocate them like a hand squeezing the last choking breath from the throat of a victim. So instead, he resisted the urge and forced his hand back down to the table, slamming it and holding it with the other. He'd slowly get to Harry by making him wait, not by rushing things. So he settled back into his chair, reclining uneasily as he made the decision to wait until he could do real damage.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The silence enveloped him as he sat in his missing child's empty room. As it became too much for him to handle, having only learned he was a father hours ago, inside him somewhere something urged him to get up, stop the wishful thinking, and use the talent that had come so naturally long before to find Gracie. Harry was still numb, however, with all the new discoveries and memories and people…he didn't know if he had either the strength or the determination to start again as of that very instant. Maybe he ought to simply shrug it off until morning, or let it go and call the police.
But the fathering instinct bubbled up, caught him, and pulled him under, forcing him to disregard any other option than getting Gracie back right away, safely in her mother's arms, and maybe, with time, his own. He found himself going down the stairway until he again came upon Laura, obviously tired, her eyes drooping as a worried expression played on her face. Clearing his throat to alert her gently to his presence, he said, "I've considered all the options and I think the best for you right now is to go upstairs to your bedroom and catch a few hours worth of sleep."
When she would have protested, he interrupted saying, "I want to ask you a few questions, but then I want you to get some sleep. You'll need the strength when we're able to find her."
Yawning and almost convinced enough to give in for a few short minutes, Laura nodded. "I've heard that if a kidnapped child isn't found within the twelve hours, the chances of finding him or her decrease significantly," she murmured as an afterthought, a fear lurking in her mind. "I've never had a child's kidnapping to solve before, and starting with my own offspring's isn't my idea of learning on the job," Laura said dryly.
"Ransom."
Her eyes darted from where they lay to focus on him. Realization dawned on her as she remembered. "Ransom," she commented.
"Mel Gibson, Rene Russo, Buena Vista Home Entertainment, 1996."
As absurd as it was, Laura could almost feel a sense of relief flooding over her to know that the movie lover in him was still intact. With the tense situation, she hadn't even noticed he'd stayed away from all movie titles.
"A man's son is kidnapped and held while the father does everything in his power to get him back."
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she said nothing. Then, "What did you want to know?"
"What time did you realize Gracie was missing?" he asked.
"About one or two in the afternoon."
When she didn't volunteer anymore information, he prompted, "What was happening?"
Sighing, she said, "We were getting ready to go out for an early dinner because I'd given Patricia, our cook, the night off, and my meal was a failure. I got Luke from upstairs and we went outside to meet Gracie by the car. She wasn't anywhere in sight."
His mind's eye recreated the scene as to how it might have gone, with Sean simply pulling her out of her own yard or having an accomplice, most likely very close to him, do it. "He called me somewhere in between seven and eight that night," he said. A thought crossed his mind suddenly. Perhaps the time in between when Gracie had disappeared and when Sean had first called him had something to do with where he was holding her, how close or how far away that was.
Abruptly, he put the thought on the back burner and turned back to see whether Laura was still sitting as wearily as before on the edge of the couch. "Go get some sleep. I'll wake you in a few hours," he said as he directed her towards the stairs.
"My daughter is missing, and you think I can sleep?" she asked sharply.
Knowing that she was feeling guilty for wanting to do so, he prodded, "If anything happens, I'll wake you immediately, but there's no reason for you not to get some sleep. Besides, it's past," he stopped to glance at his watch again, "it's past two a.m., and at least one of us ought to get some sleep."
"I'm going upstairs for one hour, but then I'm coming back down and I'll be wanting you to update me," she startled to rattle off, but was cut off by the deep stare of his blue eyes into her own. Relaxing the tension from her shoulders, she felt the full weight of her arms down to her fingertips.
A short while later, Laura entered her bedroom, her sanctuary, and tried to decide whether or not to change into more comfortable clothing. Setting the alarm and flipping the reading lamp light on, Laura reached into her top drawer of the pine dresser and pulled out an oversized T-shirt that she seemed to shrink in. Slipping that over her head and then putting a pair of comfortable gray sweat pants on underneath, Laura slipped between the covers of her bed.
As tired as she was, however, she figured that sleep wouldn't be coming easily. Laura tried to focus on whatever else came to mind, but nothing else except the memories would come. Already tired from resistance and wear, sleep overtook her body, and her mind whisked her away again to the memories she'd been dreading all night long.
