Bad Traveler (22 page)

Chloe settled in for her midmorning nap about the time her employee arrived. Lindsay took care of customers and left her free to do kitchen work. Her parents arrived at lunchtime and took Chloe back to their house. All afternoon, Lindsay worked the till while Gwen manned the coffee machine, mixed dough, and baked. She closed at four, pleased with the day’s totals.

The nip in the air as she walked home wasn’t enough to spoil her mood. The dim rays of the setting sun made the snow glow. The streetlights reflected against the snow and icicles on tree branches, looking like leftover Christmas lights. Normally, she rushed home, anxious to see Chloe, but this afternoon, Cody took her to a special family story time at the library. He promised to have her back by six. Kyle was out of town with the Ravens, so she anticipated a quiet evening at home, watching the game and sharing pizza with her parents.

Taking advantage of the rare free time, she fired up her computer to check e-mail. Mixed in the normal spate of commercial messages, she read a few from far-flung friends. A new message arrived in the inbox from Chloe’s Gammy.
Babs must be home from vacation
. She opened the message, expecting to dash off a quick reply with the promise to send more pictures soon. This message had a long list of names in the subject line. Usually, Babs sent messages addressed to just her, as a nod to her privacy.
Weird
.

Hi, all. Sorry for the mass e-mail but I wanted to let everyone know I made it back from my cruise safely. I would have loved to have stayed longer and I’ll write a note with more details and some pictures if I can figure out how to attach them, but it’s just as well I got back when I did. As some of you already know, Cody went missing again. Pete said he chickened out about crab fishing before even getting to Alaska, and they parted ways three weeks ago. So once again, I’m on the case of the missing son. Not only do I have to catch up with everything I missed on vacations, but I have to sort this mess out, too. Let me know if you’ve seen him. I’m a worried mama bear.

All the best, Babs.

She stared at the screen, reading and rereading the nonsensical message. Her mind fixated on one thought. Why would Cody go crab fishing when he was on disability? She repeated that thought over and over. Thinking about the rest of the message unsettled her too much. Everything Cody had said was a pack of lies, and he had her daughter.

Time stopped. A door slammed somewhere in the distance. Footfalls echoed, and the aroma of hot tomato sauce and cheese reached her. Still she didn’t move. She couldn’t. A chair squeaked beside her. At the touch of cool fingers on her arm, she jumped.

“Mom?” This couldn’t be happening.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

She glanced around the kitchen. It was wavy like the reflection in a fun house mirror. This was all wrong. “What time is it? Where’s Chloe?”

“It’s about ten to six. Cody will be back with Chloe any minute now.”

“Somehow, I don’t think so.”

Dad pulled up a chair on her other side. “Honey? Is anything wrong?”

“I…I think he took her.”

Her parents shared a glance, and her mother patted her arm, offering false reassurance as her father spoke. “Yes, he took her to the library.”

“No. He took her. He kidnapped her.”

“I don’t think so, dear. He’s not all that bright, but I don’t think he’s dumb enough to take a child across state lines without permission.”

Tears burst forth, erupting from her eyes and dripping onto her cheeks, hands, and pants. After several inconsolable minutes, she squeaked out three words. “But I did. When I came here.”

Her mother mumbled words too soft to hear. She was in trouble. Big trouble.

Dad’s lips twisted the way they did when he was trying not to get angry. “First off, we still have a few minutes before Chloe is officially considered late.”

She glared at him. Why would he take his side and not hers?

“Secondly, what prompted this sudden concern?”

She shared the e-mail with her parents. Dad paced. Mom peppered her with questions about whether she had any other e-mail addresses where Cody might have sent a message, or if she’d checked her cell phone.

“I’m going to call the police.” Her father picked up the phone.

“While he does that, why don’t you e-mail Mrs. Nolan and let her know where Cody’s been. She must be worried, and once her mind’s at ease, she might be able to help us, too.”

“Do you think I should call her?”

Mom twisted her mouth and looked at the ceiling. Gwen knew for a fact no answers lay hidden there. “Not yet. We need to keep the phone line free in case Cody just got held up and is trying to call you.”

“The police are on their way. I told them we have a potential Amber Alert.”

***

They sat in the kitchen, pizza and basketball forgotten as six came and went, punctuated by the chiming of the grandfather clock in the living room.

The police officer gathered information and promised to put out a notice, but since Gwen lacked documents giving her full custody, they warned her he could get pretty far so long as he could prove paternity. She mentally slapped herself for giving Cody a copy of Chloe’s birth certificate, a document necessary to get her on his alleged health insurance.
How far will he go?
He could take her to Mexico, and she’d never see her daughter again, feel her arms wrapped around her neck, nor hear her laugh.

She dashed off a quick note to Mrs. Nolan, stating Cody had taken off with Chloe and listed all possible contact numbers. In stunned silence, she waited.

Her father went to the other room, to sit down and try to catch a little sleep so he could man the phone later in the night. Her mom brought her a cup of tea. “We’ll get her back, honey. We have to.”

Mom’s words rang empty, and her heart hurt in ways she never could have imagined. Life without Chloe was meaningless and unimaginable. Images of Chloe flooded her mind. Her tiny fingers at birth, her fluttering eyelashes. Her wonder at seeing snow fall for the first time, her slurping noises and precious coos.

Another memory intruded on her thoughts of Chloe. When she and Cody had first started dating, he set up a private e-mail account for them to share notes. The password was couscous. She thought the clandestine notes were cute at first, but later suspected this was a way he kept track of new affairs before deciding which to pursue. She tried her father’s pacing technique. After the tenth or so lap across the kitchen floor, she remembered the account name.

Her fingers shook as she typed in the necessary information to access the account. The page looked like a bulletin board, covered with notes, and right in the middle sat one intended for her.

Chloe’s coming with me. Indiana is too cold. Join us. Love, Cody
.

A scream rattled from deep inside her body and exploded through her windpipe. Dad held her against his chest and called the police. When he hung up, she pushed him away then ran upstairs to grab a change of clothes and a backpack. If Chloe was in Arizona, she would be, too, one way or another. She couldn’t sit. She needed movement.

“I’m taking the car to the airport. I’m getting to Arizona tonight!”

Her father tried to stop her.

“I’ll drive.” Mom grabbed the car keys. “You might need my higher credit-card limit.” In the car, she offered intermittent reassurances and solutions for every problem. When Gwen muttered that she’d lose her business, Mom suggested staying open limited hours for coffee sales and as long as the cookie dough held out. That way, she could keep her part-time employee and, hopefully, cover her rent without going in the red and spread the word to the community. She promised that both she and her father would keep their cell phones on even during their classes—something they considered abominable, but necessary. Lastly, she assured her they would get some lawyers on their side without concern for cost.

***

Gwen cringed as she handed over her credit card to the curt airline employee, who found her a seat on a flight leaving for Atlanta. Four digits was a lot, but losing Chloe forever would be worse. With luck, she could be on the last flight of the day to Phoenix and arrive there by dawn. The alternative was unacceptable.

Grateful for the nearly nonexistent line at security, she sprinted through the small airport as fast as possible to reach her flight. Before takeoff, she called Mom with the flight numbers and asked her to share that with Mrs. Nolan if she called. Strapping the seat belt, she remembered her ginger drops for motion sickness were at home.
Be strong. Get through this
. Nothing mattered except Chloe.

The flight attendant asked everyone to turn off cell phones and other electronic devices. Kyle usually called after each road game.
Kyle!
Her heart fell even lower. She couldn’t tell him something like this on a phone message. If only he were with her, holding her in his arms, tending to her like he had on that flight months ago. Better yet, he’d develop some brilliant strategy and enact his plan without a trace of the panic and fear driving her every move.

The crowded plane lifted off the runway. The pilot announced that between here and Atlanta, a large storm front had stalled out. “Sorry, folks, we won’t be able to turn off the seat-belt light any time soon, and beverage service may be delayed or unavailable on this flight.”

Oh crap
. Looking across the person beside her, she watched as lightning flashed from cloud to cloud. Soon, they entered the clouds. Moments later, the plane plunged as the first round of violent turbulence erupted.
Be brave. She needs you
. The churning in her stomach threatened to erupt.
No!
She would not die tonight and abandon Chloe.

From somewhere behind her, a child screamed out. The sound of retching reached her ears before the acrid smell of vomit assaulted her nostrils. Her fingernails dug into the soft palms of her balled-up hands. She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth with as much force as she could muster. Her skin burned. Sweat formed along her hairline, rolling down her cheeks.
Think of Chloe
. The plane shimmied and shook. She grabbed the airsick bag and clutched it until the plane taxied into the terminal.

Running from one gate to the next, she paused long enough to splash cool water on her face. In line to buy an overpriced bottle of ginger ale, she heard, “Last call for passenger Jones. Passenger Jones, please come to Gate 37 immediately.”
Yes!
She abandoned the bottle and ran to her Phoenix-bound flight. In her seat, she tried calling Kyle, but got voice mail, so she turned off her phone before the flight attendant asked.

As the plane rattled and shook during takeoff, her stomach knotted. Crammed into a middle seat, she could not get enough cool air to blow on her face. Her head pounded. She thought of Chloe, the poor little girl struggling to sleep without her mommy nearby. She had to see her daughter. Tonight.

The pilot announced clear skies ahead and turned off the fasten-seat-belt sign. The cabin air cooled down, and slowly, she felt her overheated skin returning to normal. Her stomach unclenched. Inhaling and exhaling to a slow count of four, she closed her eyes and conjured an image of Chloe’s rosebud lips and dark eyelashes. The world seemed a better place when she opened her eyes. The inflight magazine and
Skymall
gave her something to look at as she sipped the ginger ale delivered by the flight attendant. The calm lasted until someone a few rows away opened a tuna sandwich.

The smell assaulted her nostrils, and her stomach clenched. She raced down the aisle, feeling greener by the second as she passed by passengers eating greasy french fries, stir fry, and hot dogs. A baby needed a diaper change. Two people stood ahead of her in line to use the lavatory. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She was clammy and burning up. Then everything went black.

Her eyes opened in a small, brightly lit room, surrounded by beeping machines. She was sticky but better, and on terra firma.

A woman in blue scrubs bustled toward her. “Good. You’re awake. The fluids are working.”

An IV cord interfered when she tried to shield her eyes. “What? Where?”

The nurse checked her pulse and offered a placating smile. “You were dehydrated and passed out. I hope you didn’t have a connecting flight.”

“Where am I?”

“First aid in Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport. We were the closest airport.”

“Chloe!” The IV cord stretched so much when she sat up, the needle pulled against her skin. “I’ve got to get my daughter!”

“Whoa, there. I need to keep you for observation. Can I call Chloe for you? We had no idea who to contact.”

“She’s my daughter. She’s been kidnapped. How do we get me out of here?” The nurse took pity on her. A police officer recorded her information and promised to spread the word to the local authorities before she was released from the infirmary and reunited with her meager belongings at six in the morning local time. She updated her parents and gave them the name of a hotel. They mentioned Kyle had called last night when he couldn’t reach her by cell. They told him about Chloe and passed on his promise to call her in the morning.

He didn’t pick up, so she left a message. She was about to retrieve her own messages when the phone rang with a local Phoenix number.

“Yo, Gwennie, saw you checked our e-mail.”

“I want to hear her. Tell me she’s all right.” She fought the impulse to panic as she tried to flag down a cab. “I have to know that she’s alive.”

“Yeah, well she’s sleeping right now. She’s been crying like crazy, and I didn’t know what to do. We went to Mom’s. What type of formula do you get her? Mom said not to give her any more plain milk.”

“You stole my daughter, and now you’re calling for my advice?” Passersby sidestepped her.
Calm down
. No cab would stop for her if she looked and smelled this bad and shouted like a raving lunatic.