Chapter 248

Kingsport, Tennessee

Earlier in the evening, Eric Dean, the father of Alice and Terri, the two kidnapped girls, slammed the phone down after yet another conversation with the police. Turning to his sister, he snarled out, "I think that damn detective still halfway believes that the girls have run off with some boys, or as he says, 'Left home of their own accord.' He's also implied that I've done something to make them run away. I'm beginning to think he's spending more time investigating me than he is trying to find Alice and Terri. I told him I was about ready to call the FBI and get them involved, but he says that isn't necessary and if it becomes necessary, he will call them. The patrolman that took the report seemed to have ten times the sense this damn detective – this Bryant person – has. Bryant says he can't put them on the Amber Alert signs on the Interstate because we don't positively know the white van was involved.

"When the patrolman took the report, he immediately got on his radio and put out a lookout for the van, then went into minute detail about the girls. Anybody could recognize them by the descriptions he put into his report. Then he scanned in their pictures to go with that. They need to promote him to detective, and bust this Bryant guy back to patrolman. I think the asshole is just plain lazy, or else he thinks I'm some kind of pedophile. He keeps telling me that most teenagers show up within a couple of days, and he keeps asking about any boys I've seen the girls with lately. I keep telling him they don't have any boyfriends and don't mess around with any boys at all, but it's obvious he thinks I haven't been paying attention to what my daughters have been doing. Hell, I don't know what he thinks. He's all over the board, and acts like he's trying to get out of finding my girls."

Eric had been pacing while he vented, and now sat down heavily on the couch by his sister. "Angie, they've been gone more than twenty-four hours. No telling what's happened to them by now. That detective all but said I would have gotten a tag number of the van I saw if there had actually been one. I asked to talk to the Chief, but they told me he was out of town at a convention. They shuffled me off to some Captain that did nothing but brag on the detective."

Angela slid over and hugged her brother, putting her head on his shoulder as he hugged her back, her tears wetting his shirt while his trickled down his cheeks, unnoticed. She took a deep breath. "I should have watched them until they got into your house. I just never thought..."

"Oh, hell, Angie, that's ridiculous, and it's past time for you to quit blaming yourself. This is a good neighborhood, and Terri is fourteen, for crying out loud. They only had to walk from three doors down. Not to say anything about both of them being responsible enough to stay by themselves, anyway. But you still keep them every day until I get home. I just know that white van was involved. Why in the hell didn't I look at the tag?"

"You didn't know that anything was wrong, so you need to stop blaming yourself, too."

"I just barely heard a scream, or I heard what I thought might be a scream. When I got outside, I saw the van turn the corner. I felt as if something was wrong, but I didn't even know whether the girls had left your house, yet. I feel so damn helpless in this. I can't lose my girls. They're all I have left of my marriage – all I have left of Naomi."

"I know. I know," she said, trying to keep from sobbing.

"I'm sorry, Angie; you don't even have that. How long has he been gone now – ten years?"

"Yeah. It will be eleven next month. At least with the life insurance Carl insisted on, and the money I got from the lawsuit, I'm doing okay. But those bastards got off easy. If they had just kept up the maintenance on that crane, he would never have been killed."

"He was a good guy, but he would have wanted you to remarry. It isn't fair for you to be alone."

She tried to chuckle, but it didn't sound much like one. "Right, as if you should talk. I haven't noticed you dating anyone since Naomi died having Alice."

"Oh, don't start that again. I have my girls to raise. They keep me busy. Maybe one of these days..." There was silence for a moment, before he quietly added, "Well, I did have my girls to raise..."

"Don't talk like that. They'll be back. I just know they will."

The two sat quietly for a time. Angie started to say something, but her voice broke. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "Is there anyone we haven't called?"

He thought for a moment. "Well, you know I've talked to the Principal and their teachers. We took their phones and called everyone who had called them or they had called. I've gone to personally talk with their best friends and their parents." After a moment, he continued with, "I'll have to give that detective some credit, since he's also talked to most of the girls I've talked to. So I guess he did use the information we gave him. That patrolman told us that the department had a policy of not taking a report on a missing adult until forty-eight hours had passed, but that didn't apply to kids. It's apparent the detective thinks it should, though. I signed that release so they could tap our phones just in case the girls were kidnapped for ransom, but we all know that isn't the case. A politician's kids maybe ... yeah, or someone who is wealthy, but a pharmacist's – no way."

Eric let out a long sigh as he leaned back, the two still holding each other. "If they're not back by morning, I'm going to call the FBI, regardless of what the detective says. My girls haven't just run off somewhere. And no matter what that asshole thinks, there aren't any boys involved. Well, not any boys they were dating, anyway – I have no idea who was in that van. Boys or men, I'm ready to kill somebody if they've taken my girls."

"Hon, you need to get some sleep. You didn't even go near the bed last night."

"And you did?"

"Well, no, but you..."

"I'll sleep when my girls are home."

Idaho Springs

Dinner had been in the dining room tonight. It had almost been under candlelight, but Courtney had chickened out, worrying that she might scare Bridget off if the meal looked too romantic. As they sat, "I put your second steak on and set the timer for when to turn it," she told her husband.

Courtney reached to grasp Bridget's hand, then her husband's. "Something we've done since we moved out here," Courtney remarked. "I hope you don't mind."

They all bowed their heads. After Matt's short prayer, Courtney continued. "My father was a police officer and was killed on duty many years ago. I told you what I did because I became so obsessed with worry for Matt. But his job is a lot safer now, and well, like I said, I can't live without him." Courtney saw unshed tears sparkling Bridget's eyes. "I'm sorry if we embarrassed you."

But Bridget was shaking her head. "No. No. It isn't that. My dad ... always said grace before we ate. It just brought back memories and feelings of good times now gone. Please don't even consider stopping on my account."

When the timer dinged, Bridget came to her feet. "I'll turn the steak."

Matt raised an eyebrow when Bridget was out of the room.

"She's the one, Matt," Courtney whispered. "She's sharp as can be, and she's a really good person, besides. Not to mention that she seems to have some great boobs hidden under that thick top. I think she's been cold so long, that she feels as if she has to dress warmly. I'll push the thermostat up a couple of degrees tomorrow and see if I can get her into something that will show her figure off more."

Before Matt could answer, they heard Bridget coming back. Courtney winked at her husband and resumed eating.

Matt sat listening to the two women chat as he quickly put his first steak away. A few minutes later, his appetite somewhat assuaged, he smiled at his wife as she put another steak and baked potato on his plate.

"I told you we ate a lot," Courtney commented as she returned to her seat.

"But both of you seem to be the perfect weight..."

"Yeah, that's because..." and the block reared its head, a flash of nausea passing through Courtney to warn her that she was nearing a dangerous subject. "Uh, we have good ... genes, I guess," she finished with a verbal stumble. She covered it by coughing into her hand and quickly taking a sip of her drink.

Bridget smiled, but wondered what Courtney had started to say. "I've never had a problem with my weight like some of my friends did, but I've always exercised and paid attention to my Dad when he talked about healthy foods. Even so, smoking wound up killing him."

They chatted for a few minutes while they finished their food, then Bridget helped Courtney with serving the dessert. When they were all eating, Matt looked over at Bridget. "Okay, you two, my curiosity is killing me. The full story. Why do we have a house guest? Not that I object," he quickly added, "but take pity on me; I'm just a man."

"Matt, I'll tell you her story later..." Courtney began, glaring at her husband.

"No. No. Matt certainly deserves to know," Bridget responded. Her dessert finished, she put her spoon down.

"Well, let's move to the living room so we can relax while Bridget tells her story. Why don't you go on in, Bridget, while I bring us some coffee. Want to help me, Hon?" she said to her husband.

As Bridget started toward the living room, Courtney and Matt went to the kitchen. The coffee was ready, so Courtney put a tray on the table while Matt went to the refrigerator to get cream. Courtney put the coffee carafe on the tray with a sugar bowl and spoons, then several packets of sweetener. When Matt added the cream pitcher, Courtney hissed out, "You're scaring her. I told you that she's the one..."

"She could be anybody," Matt interrupted. "Admittedly, she checked out fine, but that just means she hasn't been arrested. She could be a nut, for all I know..."

"She isn't a nut," his wife injected, beginning to be irritated at her husband. "She's sweet as can be. Life has just backed up and shit on her. Her mother died when she was born, her uncle was killed in the army, her boyfriend was killed on his motorcycle, and her father just succumbed to lung cancer. She doesn't have anything, because she had to quit her job to take care of her father. She even sold her car and the furniture out of their apartment to help pay for her father's funeral. She still owes something over two thousand dollars for that.

"She was trying to hitchhike to Reno where she has a couple of cousins, but they're married and she doesn't know their new names." Courtney grabbed her husband's neck and pulled his face down to hers, pushing her slightly open mouth to his for several moments, trying to make the kiss good enough to distract him.

Pulling back, she continued, "Baby, I can feel you, just like Diana said I could." Before he could object, she went quickly on. "It's getting stronger all the time. When I got out of the van at the gas station, I thought of you and immediately knew which direction you were from me. Matt, you have no idea how that makes me feel."