Wanted (30 page)

I clicked out and searched for a new link. I already knew most of that information. What I wanted to know, what I needed to know, had to be around here somewhere.

Suspect in Kidnapping now on 10 Most Wanted List

Wanted in connection with the recent alleged kidnapping of Adeline Battes and murder of Spenser Hanson in Syracuse, New York, Charles Hays has been added to the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Ten Most Wanted List. While the search for Adeline Battes continues, investigators have few indications as to the teenager’s whereabouts and consider her to be in extreme danger.

The FBI is offering a reward up to $100,000 for information that leads to the arrest and capture of Charles Hays, who has now been charged with felony theft, gross parole violation, and assault.

“We believe Hays could be anywhere in the United States and we are concerned for anyone who comes into contact with him or his associates,” said Junior Deputy Agent Adam Harpsten.

Hays was last seen on August 13 just before the disappearance of Adeline Battes. He has brown hair, green eyes and is 5’ 11’’. He weighs between 170 and 200lbs, and may be identified by a unique series of tattoos as pictured below. Hays may also have connections in Tennessee, Alabama, Texas and Georgia. He is considered armed and dangerous.

I almost wanted to laugh; that description didn’t even come close to doing him justice. But now he was one of the most wanted people in the country. There were probably professionals out there looking for him just for the reward alone. But I wished I knew more about criminology so I could have a better idea about how they were investigating. I told myself that if and when everything did sort itself out, I would have to look into taking some sort of criminal justice class as an elective, maybe buy some outdated law books.

Most of the articles were repetitive in nature, relaying the same information in different formats. Others were embarrassingly exaggerated, featuring bloated or outdated pictures of me from my childhood. Those articles were human interest in nature, not relaying any real information, just going on about what a tragedy it was.

From there they just continued to get more ridiculous. There were some articles that suggested Charlie Hays was part of a political conspiracy, concocted radio commentary from activists who thought I was being used for secret medical research because of my IQ test scores, an interview with a psychic who said I was already in the underworld.

“Wow, really?”

“I like the ones that say you were abducted by aliens,” said the voice in my ear.

My heart ricocheted in my chest. “Charlie!”

I threw my arms around him to embrace him, but he flinched instantly.

“Oh, sorry! Sorry!”

To my amazement, he laughed, or at least tried to. It was clear even that movement caused him considerable pain.

“If it were anybody else…” His broken hand reached out for me.

I finished the sentence for him. “You wouldn’t have so many problems.”

He smiled my favorite Charlie smile. “Just think ‘bout how boring life would be.”

“I don’t see your life being anything close to ordinary.”

An empty water bottle flew in our direction and landed on my head. Within moments, a barrage of candy wrappers and water bottles were soaring in the air like an army of flaming arrows.

Charlie gauged the attack and broke out laughing. “Hi, guys.”

“Jackass,” Yuri mumbled.

“Hey, Charlie! That was a crazy mess back there, man! There was like blood all over the place and everybody was yelling at everybody. If you were awake it would have been even louder, man! Hey, you want some candy? I found some candy—”

“How are you feeling?” Ben interrupted.

He leaned his head back, “Like I’ve been shanked.”

Ben smiled. “Makes me feel young again.”

Charlie tried to laugh but winced in pain. I immediately flicked him in the arm with my fingers.

“It’s not funny, Charlie. I didn’t think—I mean, with all of the blood and everything.” I couldn’t finish my sentence. Just remembering the small pond of crimson that had collected in the seat around him, the life that sustained him just draining, like it meant nothing, made me want to die on the inside. I had wanted to become some sort of statue or robot that never felt anything ever again.

He reached for me, pulling me close. I didn’t object. Instead, I nuzzled myself against his arm and breathed in the scent of him, wishing we were alone so that I could hold him closer.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I ain’t used to having somebody care ‘bout what happens to me.”

I kissed him quickly in the crook of his elbow so no one could see.

“He told me you were in there and I kept seeing all the stuff that ever happened in there. I didn’t think—”

“Goddamn right you didn’t think!” Reid called from ahead. “Could have gotten us all sent to Changi. I’m not going to a Singapore prison for your sorry ass—”

“Easy, kids.”

Charlie ignored them both, sliding down enough so that he could speak directly into my ear. “In the dark, Addie, I heard your voice. I think you’re ‘bout the only thing that kept me from going straight to Diyu, the real one.”

I clutched at him. “My stupidity almost got you killed, Charlie.”

He tensed in my hands. “No. That greedy, yellow-bellied, piece of crap Wallace is what almost got you killed—”

“Not me, Charlie! You!”

“Let us not get ahead of ourselves,” Ben said. “I don’t know about any of you, but until I get home, I will hardly be capable of very much brainstorming.”

Home? Is that where we were going? What exactly was home to someone like Ben Walden? A hundred different ideas came to my mind. Now that I knew Charlie was all right, I was beginning to concern myself with the logistics of the journey in front of us. We couldn’t have been flying for more than an hour or two, so that had to have put us behind half a day.

“Where are we going, anyway?” I asked Charlie.

He smiled at me. “They didn’t tell you?” He grinned at them.

“Do I look like ‘information’?” Yuri crossed his arms over his chest and went back to staring out the window.

Charlie ignored them and turned his attention back to me. “In the wine country, there’s a little town that makes everybody fall in love with it.” His voice was a whisper in my ear again. I shivered and clutched at him.

“Oh, really?”

He nodded briskly. “Yup. Everybody’s got their own place nearby, but we usually just bother Ben at his house.”

I was skeptical. “Where exactly is this place, anyway?”

“Northern California. You know a lot of other ‘wine countries’?” He was mocking me, but I didn’t care. It was just good to hear his voice again.

I rolled my eyes. “For all I knew, you were taking me to a cave in the middle of Italy.”

“Hmm.” He stroked his chin. “That ain’t a bad idea, either.”

I only faked my annoyance but Charlie could see that I was near giddy with excitement. California was only one of the many places I had wanted to travel. And while these weren’t fantastic circumstances, I was glad I would get to see a little piece of it, anyway.

Polo couldn’t stand it any longer. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Hey, Ben? Ben? Is Elise making pancakes for dinner today? Because that would be really great.”

“Who is Elise?” I mouthed the words to Charlie.

“Ben’s old lady.”

I nodded, but it took a moment for the fact to really register. It had never occurred to me that someone like Ben Walden could have a significant other, or at least not in the traditional sense. Vaguely I pictured Bonnie and Clyde and The Lonely Heart Killers. Considering his occupation, what sort of relationship did they really have? I began to wonder what life was like for her: did she spend her nights worrying about the day Ben was shot and killed by a rival? Did she practice alibis for him in case the FBI came looking for him?

Then it occurred to me that maybe she was constantly prepared for all of those things. If she was with Ben, didn’t she have to be? A life half-lived, waiting for some terrible secret phone call or news report on the television that would reveal her other half would spend the rest of his life in prison?

I looked at Charlie for some comfort but he was resting with his eyes closed. A fear rushed through me. I couldn’t even be near him without being afraid of losing him.

“Charlie? Charlie?” I shook him.

He opened a single eye. “Yup?”

I sighed. “Nothing. Just making sure.”

“Don’t worry, Vicious.” He rested his broken hand on top of mine. “I ain’t going anywhere.”

While he napped, I periodically iced his hand and torso, which didn’t seem to bother him enough to do anything but try and bat away the ice pack. Every so often I would hear his breath increase or see his nostrils flare, and in those moments, when it became obvious he was dreaming, I would rest myself against him and hear him mutter only one word continuously, “Addie.”

“You should rest, Addie,” Ben said to me at one point. “Singapore is fifteen hours behind California. Essentially we just time traveled.”

The sun was continuously coming up and we only seemed to catch up with it when we maneuvered with the tangled effort of many to get Charlie off the plane and on top of the landing ramp. Not having walked in the better half of a day, his legs were like rubber. Reid was equally dead on his feet, but at least had napped while the plane was on auto-pilot. He made short calls, after which a small army of men came out of an unmarked building to help not only Charlie, but to load fuel and other gizmos into the plane as well.

“I really like all the attention,” Charlie joked when we rode in a large black SUV. If I had to guess, I would have said they were Ben’s vehicle of choice. I really couldn’t do much complaining though—sitting in the backseat with Charlie was significantly better than lying in the cargo seat.

“Don’t get used to it,” I warned, “because if you worry me like this again, I’ll just kill you myself.”

From the passenger seat, Ben laughed. “Ah yes, you and Elise should get along splendidly.” As we drove deeper into the countryside, Ben’s voice seem to change, his posture slackened and he removed his bifocals, resting his head against the neck rest. He seemed to be a different person as we approached this place he called home.

At first we passed a slew of homes and buildings typical of any American town. It was only after a few miles that the allure of the region genuinely took over when the housing developments and condos faded into hills and scenic horse farms. Just beyond them I could see the mountains making the land feel timely and unkempt. Even the bustles of late blooming wildflowers that grew untouched in the occasional field couldn’t seem to be tamed.

Every so often we would see the old-world attempt at an advertisement for a local vineyard at an intersection, followed by signs that were decorated with balloons pointing the way to someone’s wedding or party. I tried to take in as many details of the land as possible. I rolled down the window and took in the perfumed orchards, the incomprehensible freshness of the air; even the sky seemed different from home.

At first I didn’t see the house when we began rolling down the dirt road. It looked like something Gatsby would have purchased if he had lived on this coast. It was the sort of mammoth I envisioned when I first read
Wuthering Heights
, only instead of a stone template or gothic features, this place was a combination of some old world villa and a vision of modernization.

It sat on acres of land, much further than my eyes could calculate by themselves. As we traveled along the road I could see orchards maintained by figures in the distance. The trees themselves seemed to surround everything.

The house itself mainly consisted of large windows encased by semi-circle divides, which created a balcony structure along the entire upper level. Where there were no windows, there was a rich cream color that brightened the folds of the exterior walls. The structure was sorted into three separate sections—perfectly centered among themselves. I understood how it was easy for everyone to just stay together.