The Twisted Window (16 page)

Once the receiver was in her hand and she had dropped a quarter into the coin slot, she suddenly realized that she did not know whom to call. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to the Carvers, at least until she could give a reason for their child's abduction. She had no idea why Brad had taken their daughter; all she knew about him was what he had chosen to tell her. She could not even be sure that his name was Brad Johnson, since she had never insisted on seeing identification. As things now stood, the boy she knew as Brad was in a position to walk out the door and disappear from her life at the first opportunity, leaving her with a kidnapped child in her possession and no explanation to offer as to why she had been taken.

Too much time was passing. Brad would be wondering what was keeping her, This might well be her final opportunity to put through a phone call. She had no guarantee they were really headed for Albuquerque or that Brad had a mother there who would be happy to see them. Once they were back in the car and he was again behind the wheel, she might never have another chance to make contact with anyone.

Making a hasty decision, she dialed information.

"I need a number in Albuquerque," she said. "The person's name is Brummer, Mrs. Gavin Brummer."

There was a pause while the operator checked the listings.

Then she said, "I don't have a listing for Gavin Brummer, but I do have one for a Laura Brummer on Locust Street."

"That could be the one," Tracy said. "Can you give me the number?"

She jotted it down on the edge of the telephone directory and dialed it as soon as the operator was off the line.

The phone was answered by a woman's voice, and the operator came on the line again, asking for money.

Tracy fumbled in her wallet for coins and fed them into the slot without bothering to count them.

"Hello," she said. "I'm not sure I'm calling the right number. I'm trying to reach a Mrs. Brummer who has a son named Brad Johnson."

"I'm Brad's mother," the woman said immediately. "What's happened? Has there been an accident?"

"No, Brad's fine," said Tracy. "The one I'm calling about is Mindy. You do have a little girl named Mindy, don't you?"

The silence that followed was longer than it should have been, considering the question required a one-word answer.

When Laura Drummer did speak again, her voice was flat and expressionless.

"My daughter was killed four months ago," she said.

CHAPTER 15

"She was killed!" Tracy repeated, unable to believe what she had heard.

"Four months ago," Laura Brummer said again. "Last December, on her second birthday, my precious baby was run over by a car."

"I'm so sorry," Tracy gasped, at a loss for words. "Brad told me—I mean, he really seems to believe she was kidnapped by her father!"

"Brad believes what he wants to believe," Brad's mother said tersely. "The way my psychologist tried to explain it to me, my son's way of coping with pain is by denial. Who are you, and how do you know Brad?"

"My name's Tracy Lloyd," said Tracy. "I met Brad this past week in Winfield, Texas."

"You met him where?" Laura Brummer sounded startled. "Brad told me he was going camping. He said he was going to be up in the Pecos, fishing."

"He drove to Texas to look for his sister," said Tracy. "He asked me if I'd help him, and I agreed. We found this blond little girl Brad told me was Mindy, and I managed to get myself hired as her baby-sitter." She drew a long breath and forced herself to plunge ahead. "We took her."

"You took her? You don't mean to tell me you've kidnapped some strange child!"

"Brad told me the child was Mindy," Tracy said miserably. "I've just discovered her name is Julianne Carver."

"Brad has Cricket!" Laura Brummer exclaimed incredulously. "That's my ex-husband's niece! Do you have her with you now? Where in heaven's name are you?"

"Yes, she's here with us," said Tracy. "We're in Rock Springs, New Mexico, at a place called Maria's Cafe."

"Why, you're only a couple of hours from Albuquerque!" said Brad's mother. "Where are you taking Cricket? Are you bringing her here?"

"I don't know," said Tracy. "That's what Brad's been saying, but then he's told me so many things that have turned out not to be true that I don't know what to believe anymore."

"You mustn't let him take off again!" Laura Brummer exclaimed. "I'll have somebody come out there right away to get you. I'd do it myself, but I'm too upset to drive safely. Brad's friend Jamie is here now. Let me check and see"—her voice grew muffled as she turned away from the phone—"Jamie, can you drive to Rock Springs and pick up Brad? Oh, thank goodness! I knew I could count on you, dear." She spoke into the receiver again. "Brad's been so disturbed lately, Jamie's the only one these days who can really get through to him. You make sure he doesn't leave before Jamie gets there."

"How can I hold him here if he doesn't want to stay?"

"You'll have to figure out something," Brad's mother said helplessly. "I'll call Gavin and ask him to deal with the Carvers. If they know their child is unharmed and will soon be returned to them, maybe they can be persuaded not to press charges. I simply can't believe this! What a nightmare!"

At that point, the operator came back on the line to ask Tracy to deposit more money. Since she had already emptied her coin purse, the conversation ended abruptly, with Mrs. Brummer's assurance that Jamie Hanson would leave for Rock Springs immediately.

After she had hung up the receiver, Tracy continued to stand by the telephone, unsure about what it was she ought to do next. All the possibilities that leapt into her mind were ridiculous: ordering something exotic that would take a long time to prepare and then dawdling over breakfast; taking Cricket into the ladies' room and setting up residence there where Brad couldn't get at them; finding some way to confiscate Brad's wallet so he would be unable to pay their bill and would not be allowed to leave the restaurant.

Conscious that she was in a state of mental hysteria, she made a concentrated effort to focus her mind upon more realistic alternatives. After a moment, she realized it had to be the car. Brad's car was the only means of transportation they had. If she could manage to put the Chevy out of commission, they would be stuck in Rock Springs until it could be repaired.

But how did one go about sabotaging an automobile? She knew next to nothing about a car's inner workings. With so many parts that could be tampered with, there had to be some simple way of making one inoperable. Maybe she could slash the tires or put water in the gas tank. Or perhaps she could simply open the hood and disconnect all the wires she saw, twisting them into such a tangle that sorting them out and reattaching them would take hours.

Tracy glanced at her watch. Twelve minutes had passed since she had left the dining room. If she didn't return by the time the food arrived at the table, it was very probable Brad would come looking for her.

Whatever she ended up doing would have to be done quickly. Ignoring the curious glance of the girl behind the cash register, she opened the door and went back outside. Ducking as she passed the front window so as to avoid being seen by the occupants of the dining room, she hurried around the side of the building and entered the parking lot in which they had left the car. The vehicles that had been in the lot when they had arrived there were just as they had been, but the space next to the Plymouth was empty.

Brad's Chevy was gone.

For a long moment, Tracy stood staring at the vacant spot where the car had been. Were Brad's delusions contagious? Had she, too, lost her senses? Had they really parked in this spot, and, if so, where was the car?

Slowly, she walked over to the Plymouth and placed the flat of her hand against one of its dented fenders. The feel of the sun-warmed metal beneath her palm renewed her sense of reality. She was not hallucinating, nor was she dreaming. There could be only one rational explanation for the car's disappearance. The obvious answer, of course, was that it had been stolen.

The incredible coincidence of having such an improbable event occur at this particular time and place was so beyond belief that it was all she could do to accept the fact that it had happened. Then, it suddenly struck her that this solved her problem! She would not have to take any further steps to prevent Brad from leaving Rock Springs. He had no way of taking them anywhere until somebody came from Albuquerque to collect them.

Her relief was so great, she felt as though she had been administered a tranquilizing drug. Leaving the lot, she completed her circle of the building and reentered the restaurant. Once inside, she headed directly for the dining room and started back toward the booth where she had left Brad and Cricket.

Her view of the table was blocked by a waitress with a tray. It was not until Tracy had reached the table that the girl stepped aside to reveal the fact that, rather than serving food as Tracy had assumed she was doing, she was actually in the process of clearing away uneaten breakfasts—two plates of French toast, a bowl of cereal, and several glasses of juice and mugs of coffee.

The booth itself was empty.

The moment of shock that Tracy had experienced in the parking lot was minor in comparison with what she felt now. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" the waitress exclaimed, glancing up in surprise. "I thought you'd left with the others."

"Where are the people who were sitting here?" Tracy asked her.

"The young man and the little girl left about five minutes ago. I thought you were all one party and you were leaving with them. I'll have your plate reheated for you right away."

"I was part of their party," said Tracy. "I didn't expect them to leave like this. Did the boy say anything to indicate where they were going?"

The waitress shook her head.

"I thought it seemed pretty strange, ordering all this food and then nobody staying to eat it. I brought it in, and the young man got up and went over to the doorway as though he were looking for somebody out in the hall. He stood there a minute and then came back and put some money on the table. Then he and the little girl went out the back way, through the kitchen. I thought you must have gone out to the car and they were meeting you there."

"I see," Tracy said.

She did see, all too well.

"Don't you want to sit down and—"

"No, thank you. Not right now."

Gripping the edge of the table, Tracy made a violent effort not to give way to the wave of faintness that was threatening to overpower her. She had the horrible feeling that if she allowed herself to sit down her legs might turn to rubber and she would never again get up.

After a moment, she turned and went back out to the entrance hall. She crossed to the desk and took a dollar bill out of her wallet. "I need some change," she said to the cashier. "I have to make another call."

Back at the telephone, she went momentarily blank on Laura Brummer's number, until she remembered she had written it on the edge of the phone book. Dropping a coin into the slot, she dialed the necessary eleven digits. There was a pause and a click, and her ears were greeted by the impersonal staccato buzz of the busy signal.

When she hung up the receiver, there was a loud clink as her quarter fell through and came tumbling out into the dish beneath the coin return. Picking it up, Tracy held it, wondering what to do. She knew what her next call should be, and she dreaded the thought of it. Finally, bracing herself for the horrendous scene that was sure to be forthcoming, she dropped the quarter back into the slot and dialed zero.

The operator came on the line. "Can I help you?"

If only you could, Tracy thought. If only anyone could! Aloud, she said, "I want to place a collect call to Winfield, Texas."

This time, the phone did ring and was answered immediately.

"I have a collect call for anyone at this number from Tracy Lloyd," said the operator. "Will you accept the charges?"

"Of course!" Aunt Rene gave a gasp. "Tracy? Thank God, it's you! We've been so worried! Are you all right!"

"Yes," Tracy said. "I'm fine. I'm sorry I worried you."

"Where are you?"

"In New Mexico."

"Cory!" Her aunt's voice went momentarily distant as she turned away from the telephone. "Gory, it's Tracy! She's safe in New Mexico!" An instant later, she was back. "We've been worried sick, dear. What's happened? Is the little Carver girl with you?"

"She was, but she's not anymore," Tracy told her. "Brad has taken Cricket off somewhere in the car."

"Brad? You mean, the boy who broke into the Carvers' house was Brad? The way Doug Carver described him, we thought it was some maniac. Doug said a boy with a gun threatened to kill him. We've been out of our minds, we've been so frightened for your safety."

"I'm fine," Tracy said again. "And Cricket's fine too. No matter where he's taken her, I'm sure Brad won't hurt her. I heard on the radio there's a warrant out for our arrest."

"We tried to tell them you weren't involved," said Aunt Rene. "We knew you were taken by force, just the way the child was. Doug Carver wouldn't listen though. He insisted on telling the police you were part of it also. Nothing your uncle or I could say seemed to make a bit of difference to anybody."