9:00 PM

Sunday, December 24, 2006

Sam had been annoyed, if not downright angry, when her brother had left unexpectedly four hours ago. He'd received a phone call on his cell that he'd left the room to take. As if that hadn't infuriated her enough, his discreetness, he'd departed from the hotel with only a, "I'll be back in a bit!"

He obviously hadn't heard her, "Where are you going? We have to meet the police in an hour!" or he would have stopped for sure, she knew. Sam watched his retreating car speed from the Super 8 parking lot before turning with a sigh to her family.

Chris had picked up the phone forty-five minutes later.

"Mom?"

Sam turned from the window and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She accepted the phone and cradled it gingerly against her shoulder. "Hello?"
"Mrs. Redford, this is Detective Maddox, I was--"

She frantically raised her wrist to the light, checking the time. "My watch must be running behind, I'm terribly sorry, we'll be over in a--"

"Please, ma'am," with a heaved sigh, Sam quieted, though still frenzied in her attempts to apologize. "I have some news."

"Rachel?" Sam gasped, her heart lifting. "You found my baby girl?"

There was a long, drawn-out pause. Sam deflated but kept her hopes up for positive news. Maybe they're onto something. "No," he replied dejectedly. "I'm afraid that the news I must give you isn't pleasant. Your brother was shot in Kissimmee and the last we heard he was undergoing bullet removal surgery at Orlando General. Now, we'd still like to meet with you but I can understand if you'd like to attend to your brother's business first. By all means--"

Sam hung up and grabbed her coat, herding the kids into the car.

Now she was angry.

9:05 PM

Sunday, December 24, 2006

Alex checked his watch yet again as Lisa poked her meat with a sigh. Damn it, it's cold. The waitress returned and she held up her plate.

"Could you reheat this, please?" she murmured with a polite smile. The waitress frowned.

"Sure."

When she left, Jackson scowled at Alex. "Why are we waiting to eat?"

"Because Rachel's still in the bathroom."

"So?"

Alex just glared at him. Lisa cleared her throat. "I can go and get her, guys." She looked to Jackson for approval. He nodded, and she pushed away from the table.

Lisa rapped loudly on the door and waited. There was the sound of a quiet gasp, a clatter, and then a throat clearing. Lisa frowned at the door.

"Rach?"

There was a moment of silence, and then another strangled little choke. "Leese?"

"Can I come in?"

The door flew open and Lisa expected Rachel to go flying into her arms, but she had to step inside and peer at the wall before she could see the source of Rachel's frenzy.

The floor length mirror covering one of the walls had turned a light pink color in some places. Rachel was staring at it, then her shoes, then darting her eyes back up to meet Lisa's. Her hands were wrung in front of her.

Lisa couldn't help it. She covered her face for a moment, then bit her lip. It came out anyway. She laughed. Rachel glared at her.

"I can't get it off!" she squeaked angrily. "I don't even know why I did it!"

Lisa grabbed a paper towel and wet it. "Because," she said matter-of-factly. "You are way too much like myself and can't control yourself from writing on mirrors when you feel intimidated. Where did you get the lipstick?"

Rachel cast her eyes to the floor again. "Someone left it in one of the stalls."

Lisa sighed and studied the image in front of her. KIDNAPPER, I NEED HELP TABLE 12. "Shit. I hope this comes off. I used soap."

"You did this?" Rachel frowned.

Lisa nodded. "Yeah. Back on the plane. But, like I said, I used soap, and I said Jackson's seat had a bomb."

"I'm guessing it didn't work."
Lisa shook her head. "Nope. But you at least had a chance. Alex wouldn't have come in here."

Rachel bit her lip and looked away. Lisa cut her eyes at the girl and paused in her scrubbing at the mirror. "Rach?"

"I don't even know what I'm doing anymore," Rachel whispered, a fat tear rolling down her cheek. Lisa dropped the paper towel and contemplated her.

"What do you mean?"

"One minute I hate Alex. I want to kill him, I want to hurt him for what he's done, for what he's doing to me. I want to run away from him and never look back. But then the next, I'm completely in love with him again and would never dream of leaving his side. When I was writing this, I was angry, and I was afraid. I wanted somebody to help me escape and get me home. But then I looked down, and I saw this, and he stopped being the kidnapper in my mind. I loved him again, he was Dan again. When things are this way, it's even worse than if it were one solid way. Because I can't trust myself and feel like a phony."

Lisa screwed her face up in concentration and thought before she spoke. "Sometimes, Rachel, I think—I don't really think that anybody knows what they want. Not immediately. Give it time, give him a chance. Life is too short to wander around in that indecisiveness, but you won't know either way until you stop being afraid of what he could be and forget what he is. I didn't know Alec or Dan, but I knew Alex. He was sweet, a little odd, I'll admit, but overall, all he really wants is to be loved. He loves you, Rachel. I can tell. I think that's why he's so possessive, so controlling. He's too afraid of losing you again."

Rachel sighed, wiping her eyes. "It's hard, though, because I want to see my family so badly. Its so hard to choose, Leese, you have no idea." Her face fell as soon as she said it, and Lisa saw that Rachel had realized her mistake.

"I do have an idea," Lisa pointed out, though Rachel obviously had discovered that. "I can't see my dad, and trust me, Rachel, if I had a choice, I'd be home. But I have to take the next best alternative, and that's Jackson."

"Do you love him?"

Lisa was shocked by Rachel's change in direction, and she froze for a moment as she fully absorbed what the girl was asking her. As she searched for an answer, she stuttered, "Do—do I love him?"

"Yeah."

Do I love Jackson?

He's hurt me.

Tried to kill me.

I said I loved him, but do I?

He's keeping me from home.

But I let my guard down with him.

And I can trust him.

"Yes," Lisa murmured, not even to Rachel but to herself. "I think so. I think I love him. I hardly know him, but I love him."

Rachel nodded, as if she understood. She did understand, Lisa realized. She knew what it was like to have lover and enemy rolled into one convenient package.

Lisa liked her. She liked what they had in common, and she liked having her around. "I think, though, Rachel, we'll eventually be allowed to see our families. Jackson promised me a call to my dad later, and I know that once we build up our levels of trust with the two, they'll let us see them. Provided that our parents don't go running to the police. Because Jackson and Alex would sooner let us go than get caught."

"I don't think Alex would," Rachel admitted. "I don't think he would leave me."

"For Jackson it's safer to leave me," Lisa told her, feeling a bit sad. "I'm a national fugitive at the moment. They have my dad, but Jackson's planning something so I can help him, I know it. He won't let him rot in prison. Jackson can be an asshole, but he's not that cruel."

"But I'm just a hostage," Rachel sighed. "If they find us somehow—which isn't likely, even with the clue I gave my sister—I'll just be brought back to counseling for a year."

There was a loud rapping on the door and Lisa's gaze snapped back to the mirror. She glanced nervously at Rachel, who was staring at the paper towel at the floor, her chest heaving in panicked gasps.

"The mirror," she whispered frantically. "What if that's one of them?"

"Rachel!" Alex shouted. "Come on!"

"Let's just leave," Lisa muttered to her. "If we step out soon enough and block the view with our bodies, we have a chance of him not seeing it. But if he gets impatient enough and comes in, we're screwed."

"We?"

Lisa smiled encouragingly at her. "He doesn't have to know it was you."

Rachel nodded and they hurried to the door. Lisa opened it first and grinned cheerfully at Alex. He wore a mask of intolerance and annoyance.

"All better," she chirped. "Rachel was having a little female trouble but she's doing--"

It ended then. Alex glanced past Lisa and although his gaze didn't linger on it at first, he looked back and his eyes narrowed upon the mirror. He grabbed Lisa's shoulder and forced her out of the doorway. Rachel backed away.

"Go sit down, Lisa," he ordered, his voice low but menacing.

"It's not her fault, Alex," Lisa hissed nervously. "She didn't do it. I did."

He glared at her. "I wasn't born yesterday. Things will be a lot easier, now, if you leave."

"I'm not leaving." She refused to let Rachel be succumbed again to this sort of emotional abuse.

Jackson appeared behind Lisa and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Come on. It'll be fine. Don't make a scene."

"I'm not making a scene," she whined. "But I'm not going to let Alex 'deal with her' because I don't want to see her hurt again!"

"I'm not going to hurt her," Alex growled.

"Lisa," Jackson was pulling her backwards.

"Don't touch her!" Lisa called as she was forced back to the table.