A Fresh Start (34 page)

Mrs. Doyle’s eyes turned hard and flinty. “Who says I’m unwell? I’m perfectly fine.” She tightened her boney fingers over Paige’s upper arm. “I’m his mother, I gave birth to him. Is it too much for him to spare me a little money?” Her grip tightened further.

Paige winced and tried pulling her arm from the grip. “Mrs. Doyle, you’re hurting me.”

“Mrs. Doyle, you’re hurting me,” she mimicked in a sickening high-pitch tone.

“Please, Mrs. Doyle.” Paige reached over and tried to pry Mrs. Doyle’s finger from her arm.

Mrs. Doyle dug her fingers deeper into Paige’s arm, refusing to let go. Then, without any warning, she gave Paige a rough shove and pushed her onto the road.

Paige crashed onto the floor, slamming her arm against the road.

She cradled her arm still in a daze on what had happened. She tried to get up into a sitting position, but someone jerked her head back and before she knew it, she was pressed back against the floor.

Amid the sun’s glare, she had to squint to take a better look of the dark shadow above her. Her eyes widened as she recognized the familiar face and felt his hand cupped over her mouth and nose.
 

She forgot all about the pain in her arm and starting flailing her hands around, trying to cause some form of damage on her attacker.

The same boney fingers that clung onto her arm now bounded her wrist against the floor. She wrung her body, twisting every which way, trying to pry herself free.

But she found herself getting distracted by a roll of nauseousness as a revoltingly sweet odor infiltrated her nose and lungs.

She coughed, but ended up breathing in more of the disgusting scent.

The already quiet street seemed to go still, and a numbing sensation took over her arms.

“Come on, we need to go.”
 

“My money.”

The voice sounded so far away.

Her vision swirled and she knew she was moving. She didn’t know how; she couldn’t really think, she couldn’t really see, and she definitely couldn’t move her limbs.

Some more murmurings went on, but she could no longer make out the words.

A weird sensation whirled in her head. It was as if her brain was spinning.

Then she felt herself falling again, but she didn’t hit the hard ground. Maybe she did, she wasn’t sure.
 

“Paige!”

Drew.
 

She exhaled and drew in a deep breath through her nose, trying to concentrate. That was when she heard the sickening sound of metal twisting. “Andrew,” she whispered, right before the numbing sensation took over.

Paige turned her head, her mind filled with the low droning in the background. She blinked, trying to keep her eyes open, but they were so dry and uncomfortable. Shutting them, she tried to concentrate on the simple act breathing.
 

She couldn’t remember what was going on. Her mind was swirling, something was terribly wrong with her.

She tried reaching for her forehead, but she couldn’t even move her fingers.

She drew in a deep breath and moaned softly as she felt a disgusting film over the inner layers of her throat. She swallowed and that brought about a gag reflex, propelling her body forward.

Then, it was as if her brain finally woke.

The memories came rushing back to her in a jumbled mess. Clearly her brain wasn’t functioning as well as it was supposed to.

Paige pulled out the images that appeared important.

The hotel. The letters in the drawers.

“Cole…” she mumbled. “You—”

“Shh, it’s okay. Here, drink this.”

She was pushed back against the chair, and she felt something at her lips. She tried to move, to turn her head, but she was so tired.

“Here.”

A trickle of water entered her mouth, cooling her parched tongue and quickly making its way down to her throat. She choked and coughed as it went down the wrong pipe, but the water kept on coming.

She tried fighting it, tried refusing to swallow whatever was being poured into her mouth, and the liquid soon overflowed.
 

A strong tug on her hair constricted her throat and she gagged on the continuous gush of water streaming into her mouth. She coughed, splattering the water, but without a moment of reprieve, the water flooding her mouth again.

Eventually, her body reflexes caved and she swallowed whatever the liquid was.

“There you go. This will make you feel better. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you like I always have.”

Almost immediately, the swirling in her head got worse. She panted, struggling to overcome the strange sensation overtaking her.

“Shh…Get some rest.”

Her head fell to the side as her lids got heavier.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t fight the darkness.

“It’s okay now. Everything will be perfect from now on.”

Another wave of nausea hit her, but this time, it wasn’t from whatever she’d inhaled or drank.

Justin rubbed the towel against his hair and hung it over his neck.
 

“Breaking news.”

He turned to the television he’d left on.

“A brutal murder had occurred in Cheyenne.”

He froze, his hand still holding on to the ends of the towel.

Crimes happened all the time, he wasn’t surprise to hear that, but that news immediately made his stomach turn.

“The victim’s face had been smashed in, and the body was dumped behind Plain’s Hotel. Neither the police nor the hotel management had confirmed if the victim was a guest in the hotel.”

A coincidence.

Still, no harm checking it out. They had to head down to the police department anyway.
 

He pulled the towel from his neck and hung it up. He put on a T-shirt and went over to Paige’s room. Her bed was made, her handbag and phone still on the small desk, but she wasn’t inside.

“Andrew?” He looked up and waited for a reply, but there wasn’t a single sound coming from the attic.

Frowning, he jogged down the stairs and strode through the living room and into the kitchen. Neither Paige nor Andrew was in the house.

He went out the front door and onto the streets, wondering where they had gone.
 

“Justin!”

Justin turned and saw Andrew limping over. “What happened to you?” Justin asked, sprinting over.

“Cole got her. Your mom helped.”

“What?” His head swiveled left and right, scanning the area for any sign of Paige or foul play.
It can’t be.
He was just speaking to her.
 

“She’s gone.” Andrew dropped to the ground and pulled off his mangled prosthetic.
 

Justin couldn’t speak. His words, whatever they were, got choked off in his throat. He could barely breathe.

Snap out of it,
he told himself. “What happened?”
 

He threw Andrew's arm over his shoulders and helped him back into the house while Andrew told him about the boy and the letter.
 

“What happened to your leg?”

“That bastard reversed the car into me when I tried going after her. He went over my prosthetic.” Once in the house, Andrew pointed up the stairs. “I left my phone in the attic. Call Shawn. I saw the license plate. Ask him to run it. With any luck, we might get him before he changes his plate.”

Justin did as he was told. By the time he got back downstairs, he was done talking to Shawn. “He says he’ll run a check and get back to us. You all right here?” He shifted the car keys in his hand. “You need me to get someone?”

“Where are you going?”

“After her.”

“How? The car is gone, no point driving around aimlessly.”

Justin ran his hand through his hair. “We can’t just sit here and wait.”

“Find your mom. She was with him just now, but he drove off without her.”

“Cole? You saw him with your own eyes.”

“He was already in the car, I didn’t actually see him. Why?”

The gnawing feeling over the news report remained. “Someone was murdered, body dumped behind the hotel Cole was staying in. It seems too much of a coincidence,” he said. “The car you saw, was it the rented black sedan?”

“No.”

Justin nodded and headed out.

“Where are you going?”

“Find my mom. If she’s still in town, I know where she is.” Justin jogged out to his car and pulled out of his house while calling Mr. Seymour. He didn’t bother explaining. He merely told Mr. Seymour to drop by and began his search for his mom.

A fifteen minutes drive toward the other end of town got him in front of an old house with dullish gray-blue paint that had only turned darker after years of neglect.

He hopped out of his car and crossed the lawn overgrown with grass.

Pounding on the moss green door, he hollered, “Mom!” His fist continued hammering the door. “Mom!” If he had to knock it down, he would. “Mom! Open up, I know you’re in there. Mom!”
 

Justin looked down at the lock on the door. It was an old-school, extremely easy to break kind of lock. He took a step back, raised his feet, and gave it a good kick, aiming as close to the knob as possible.

He could hear the sound of wood cracking, but the door remained in place. He raised his leg again and gave it another two kicks. On the third kick, the wood splintered and the door flew back.

“Whoa. What’s going on?” An obese man wearing a white singlet stained with red and brown patches pushed his head off the couch, his words in a complete slur.

Empty beer bottles and cans took up all the space on the coffee table and around the couch. Beyond the area of the man’s reach, clothes that seemed like they hadn’t been washed for months lay scattered across the whole place, explaining the foul, stale air trapped within the house.

Justin cast a quick glance over at the man, his lower jaw twisting to the side.
 

The old drunk could hardly get his brain together to sit upright.

Ignoring the drunk, Justin strode right into the kitchen, then up the stairs. “Mom!”

He was halfway up the stairs when he saw his mom stepping out of a room with a dirty brown duffle bag.

The moment she saw him, she skidded to a stop and ran back into the bedroom.

Justin sprinted up the steps and shoved against the door that his mother was about to slam in his face. He easily pushing the door and his mom back.

“Where is she?” he demanded, grabbing his mother’s wrist.

“Let me go!” she screamed and kicked.

Her feet themselves didn’t cause much impact, but the heels she had on was sending sharp jolts of pain up his leg.
 

“Stop it.” He tightened his grip and jerked her roughly. “Where is she?”

Again, she pounded and kicked at him, screaming at the top of her lungs.

He didn’t have time or the patience to entertain her.

Clenching his jaws, he subdued her thrashing hands and spun her around. He pressed his palm on her back, right between her shoulders, keeping her face and body up against the wall. Using one of his legs, he pinned down her calves and asked again, “Where is she?”

His mom tried pushing herself off the wall, but he wasn’t going to let her go until she gave him the answer he needed.
 

“Where is she?” he raised his voice, increasing the pressure on her back.

“I am your mom! Women come and go, why do you care?”

He took in a deep breath. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know! He paid me my money and I ran when I saw her brother.”

“Who is that guy?”

“I didn’t catch the name.”

“Where did you meet him?”

“I went down to Cheyenne for some drinks. He came up to me and offered me some quick cash. I won’t have taken it if you’ve just given me some.”

“Don’t try to pin this on me. You would’ve taken it even if I gave you all the money you wanted. You’ll do anything to get another drink.” He controlled his breathing through his nose and continued. “How did he find you?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

“How does he contact you?”

“He calls me.”

Justin let go of his mom and wrestled her handbag from her. Taking out her cell phone, he threw her bag onto the bed.

“Where are you taking my phone?”

He took out his wallet from his pocket and pulled out five hundred dollars. He flung the money onto the bed. “Get a new one. And listen, you’re not my mom anymore; you gave up that right many years ago. Don’t
 
call me again, and don’t show up in front of me ever again.”

He left the house even as his mom continued screaming who-knows-what at him. He was only interested in the phone he was holding. He went to the call list and tried dialing the last call received, but the phone was switched off.

Driving back home, he was surprise to find the Seymours and Jane in his house. They all turned to him, staring at him as if he’d fall apart anytime.

Clearly, they had all been updated.

He told them what just happened and saw Jane’s brows drawing closer. “Do you know something?”

“Before your mom came back, she was creating quite a stir in Cheyenne. Quite a lot of Pine folks hang out in the bar. Apparently she went back and was complaining about how you turned her away.”

“Who did you hear this from?”

“Keith.”

Justin nodded. “That explains.”

“Have you told Shawn to run the number?” Andrew asked.

“Yeah. It’s a burner cell with the last signal bouncing off Pine Bluffs. He thinks the phone’s been discarded, but he’ll keep track of it. He’ll let us know if the signal comes back on.”
 

“And the license plate?”

“A rented car registered to Cole’s name. The rental company said the tracking system on the car isn’t working.”

Dead ends, dead ends, and more dead ends.

Justin took in a deep breath, running his tongue under his teeth. “Do you have a picture of Cole?”

“Facebook. Paige had a facebook account, she didn’t delete it. I have her old laptop back at her house.”