Vanishing Day Page 20

  56

  Logan opened her eyes on a pale, grey world. She had no idea how she slept, but dawn had arrived. Slowly, greys began turning into greens and browns. Squirrels squabbled, blue jays called, robins warbled good morning.

  Was it? She supposed so. She hadn’t expected to live the night, and here she was. Stiff and very, very cold, but alive. Garrett must have given up the search. He had what he came for. She reached for her phone before remembering Garrett had that, too. She took inventory.

  Her clothes were still wet through and stuck to her body in several places, with bloody mud. But she didn’t feel faint so couldn’t have lost too much. Just superficial scratches she hoped. Her head throbbed.

  Slowly, she flexed her frozen fingers and moved her arms. When that proved successful, she attempted to stretch out her leg. A groan escaped her lips. Bad idea.

  Maybe she’d just sit here until her body warmed up. She tried rubbing the tops of her thighs to get the blood going, but that opened up some of the wounds when the flannel pulled away where it had stuck to her skin. What a mess.

  Her right knee was swollen to twice its size. She didn’t think her webbed knee brace thing would even fit over it now, or do any good if it did. She was pretty sure she must have torn through whatever was left of that meniscus, or done some new damage altogether. She wished she’d taken Anatomy in college. She liked knowing what she was dealing with.

  Gingerly, she put her hand up to the right side of her face, tentatively touching her cheek and brow bone. More dried blood from a cut over her eye. She was going to have a good shiner on that side. The rest of her seemed OK, just banged up.

  Well, no one was going to come rescue her. She’d just have to suck it up and crawl out. She looked around for a likely spot. Something relatively shallow, with trees to grab onto so she could haul herself up. There was a good candidate a few feet to her right.

  Taking a few deep breaths, she attempted to stand, but this brought on a whole new level of pain and she involuntarily fell back down.

  OK then.

  Logan gathered her courage to try again.

  “Hello down there!” an older woman’s voice called out, “Are you OK?”

  A pair of intelligent grey eyes set in a soft, wrinkled face peered down at her, over the tree root. Logan had never seen a more beautiful face.

  Parting some ferns, the woman looked down at Logan.

  “Oh my!” she said. “Wait right there! I’ll be right back. Don’t move!” she said, disappearing.

  Like she could go anywhere if she wanted to. Logan felt relief flood through her body. She settled back down to wait for the cavalry. She didn’t care how long it took. The woman had gone to get help and that’s all that mattered.

  Logan was surprised when the woman reappeared almost immediately, a few feet farther along the bank, in the more open area Logan had been trying to reach. Clad in a cheerful, bright blue running outfit with matching white stripes down the jacket and pants, she now had a companion. A huge Alaskan Malamute sat calmly by her side.

  Beautiful dog, but Logan wasn’t sure exactly how this helped.

  “What’s your name, sweetie?” the woman called down.

  “Logan,” she said, “Logan McKenna.”

  “I’m Edna, and this is Bear,” she smiled.

  Hearing his name, Bear lifted up his snout and licked his master’s hand. “Bear’s going to get you out.”

  Turning the huge dog around, she said, “Lucky for you we were doing a beach swim day and he has on his long lead.”

  She unlatched a silver, metal carabiner from Bear’s collar and reattached it to a thick, metal ring located on the blue nylon harness, unfurling a long, thick, white nylon rope. Bear and his owner matched. Next, the woman deftly tied a huge, complicated-looking knot on the other end, then tossed that end down to Logan.

  “Can you reach it?” she asked.

  Logan answered by grabbing the end.

  “Thank You!” she said.

  It took a few tries, but between the two of them—Bear pulling and Logan crawling—the strong animal managed to haul Logan out onto the path with only minimal damage...and cussing. She apologized to the woman for the language. She also knew she must look like something from the Night of the Living Dead.

  “Oh no, dearie,” she laughed. “Don’t you worry about that,” she said, hooking a surprisingly strong arm under Logan’s arm. “My Johnny served on a submarine. No one can out-cuss a sailor! That was Sunday School talk compared to him.”

  So that’s how she learned to tie that knot.

  “Thank you...” Logan managed, catching her breath. “What was your name again?”

  “Edna. Edna Gamble,” the woman said, untying the dog’s leash, letting it drag on the ground beside him. “I think if you drape your arm over my shoulders and lean on Bear here...Bear, Logan, Logan, Bear...there, now you’re properly introduced...we should be able to get you back to the house. We just started our walk. I’m just up ahead.”

  Edna continued as the strange trio proceeded, “Bear doesn’t really need a lead. He’s a good boy, but they have these rules, you know, in the Cove, for people whose dogs don’t behave.”

  Logan made agreeable noises. Ben felt the same way about Purgatory, but considering she’d been lunged at a few times by an aggressive Doberman mix in the neighborhood back home, she had to agree leash laws were a good idea.

  Once they were inside, Edna sat Logan down at the kitchen table, then went to the sink and ran some hot water. Edna’s home was filled with furniture from the 60s, all Danish Modern, upholstered in bright blues with cheerful, yellow throw pillows. Pictures of her husband in his uniform, their wedding portrait, and a series of graduation and baby pictures, presumably of children and grandchildren, filled one wall.

  Gently but firmly, Edna began wiping at the dried blood on Logan’s face, being careful not to break open any wounds and start the bleeding again.

  “What happened?” Edna asked.

  Logan said she was out hiking, didn’t realize it was getting dark, and slipped.

  Edna didn’t look like she bought that story but said nothing. A few minutes later, she leaned back to take a look at her handiwork.

  “Not bad, but that cut over your eye will need stitches, and we haven’t even started on the bottom half of you yet,” Edna said.

  Her rescuer wanted to call 911, but Logan said she was fine, just wanted to get back to the place she was staying. Edna didn’t have any dry clothes that would fit her, so she put a towel down on the front seat of her car to drive her back home as she was, torn, sticky, wet pajama bottoms and all. Logan said nothing was wrong with her that a good, long, hot shower wouldn’t fix. But she insisted on Logan eating something first.

  After forcing her to drink a very strong cup of coffee and an excellent, gooey peach-filled pastry, Edna finally agreed to drive her home. But only if she took her number, along with a baggie full of sterile gauze, Neosporin, and Band-aids—her own portable, mini-first aid kit. Next, she reached into the hall closet and pulled out a pair of crutches.

  “This should hold you until you get yourself to a doctor. Which you should do as soon as possible,” Edna scolded. “Tom used them last year after his hip surgery. They should be tall enough for you.”

  Logan thanked her again and promised to call if she needed Edna to drive her to urgent care. She wanted to go home and get into the shower, try ice on her knee first.

  The chase through the forest felt like miles in the dark last night, but Rita’s house was only a few blocks from Edna’s. Houses were scattered mainly along four or five streets, but Rita’s was on the back end of the community, at the edge of the forest. Two rights and a left—and they were there.

  Edna pulled into the driveway next to Logan’s rental car. Leaving the engine running, she got out and helped Logan up to the door,
which was wide open. Edna raised her eyebrows and gave her a piercing look, but said nothing. Everyone was entitled to their secrets.

  Sorry she lied again to this nice woman, Logan mumbled something about the lock on the doorknob not working...she’d have to tell Rita about it so she could get it fixed. Must have popped open after she shut it yesterday. Probably never fit right to begin with. Yes, she’d be sure and engage the deadbolt this time. She forgot yesterday.

  Logan knew that sounded lame, but she couldn’t think of a better explanation off the top of her head. She had no idea where Garrett was or what he might do. If she called the Oregon police, what evidence did she have that he, or anyone else, attacked and tried to kill her? He was long gone. He had the flash drive. Would he leave Lori alone now? Last she heard, Lori—or Lauren, as Garrett called her—was still in ICU. He couldn’t get to her there. She hoped. Besides, he had what he came for. His precious files.

  Logan didn’t want to tell Lori that her husband had the flash drive. She’d gone to great lengths to keep it safe, and Logan felt like she’d failed to protect it. She wondered if Lori was out of the ICU yet. Bonnie said the doctors were keeping her just far enough under not to pull her tubes out, but not in an induced coma exactly. That far under would do permanent brain damage.

  And Shannon. What was going to happen with that adorable little girl?

  She thought about calling Detective Andrews, but he would just ask why she hadn’t called earlier. Why had she hung onto the flash drive for several days, instead of turning it over to the police? She didn’t have a good answer for that. And now, she lost it. She couldn’t even prove it existed.

  Good job, Logan.

  What she had was Zip. Nada. Nyet.

  Exhausted beyond belief, Logan hopped down the hall towards the shower.

  57

  Cruising north on the 101 through Lincoln City, Garrett itched to step on the gas, but didn’t want to get pulled over. The bar rush was over, but you never knew. He passed Wells Fargo as he was leaving town. Five and a half hours to Seattle, maybe only five without traffic through Portland, and he’d be home. He adjusted his rear view mirror and checked for cops. All clear. The streets were deserted.

  He didn’t like leaving loose ends, but really, what was the McKenna woman going to do? Now that he had the flash drive, she didn’t have anything on him. He checked for security cameras before he went in through the window. There were none. The only way into Little Whale Cove was through a gate, which had a camera aimed at the pass through, but that was easy. He just left his car in guest parking near the guard shack, which was unmanned that time of night, and walked in. Piece of cake.

  Forty minutes after leaving Lincoln City, he pulled into Spirit Mountain Casino for gas. He bought a hat and some dry shoes at the 24-hour gift shop, tossing Logan’s phone in the dumpster on the way out. His pants and shirt were OK. He’d go home, shower, be in the office by 9:30 a.m. If his luck held.

  He had the flash drive. That was the most important thing. When he got home, he’d have to go through it one document at a time, to see what she stole. Maybe it wasn’t too bad. Whatever it was, he’d manage it. Everything was going to be OK.

  Taking his phone out of airplane mode...he hadn’t wanted it to ring while he was crawling into someone’s bedroom ...Garrett plugged it into the car charger and tapped on the voice mail icon. There were 23 voicemails waiting. The first few were from his assistant, Patricia, panicked at the police search. He started skipping through. Were they all from her? He didn’t even listen to the rest of the last one, which sounded like her quitting. He scrolled past to the next number, not one he recognized. The message was short and clear.

  “10:00 p.m. Ruth’s Chris. Don’t be late,” the voice said.

  Garrett glanced at the clock on the dashboard.

  Shit.

  It was 3 o’clock in the morning. 10:00 p.m. had long since slid on by. Garrett banged his hand on the steering wheel. He felt sick. Just then the phone jangled in the plastic cupholder. Garrett looked down. Unknown caller. He tried to pull himself together.

  “Hello?”

  “Mr. Delaney, I am disappointed.”

  In me, in the universe, in the fact that the police were crawling all over my office, and probably at least some of your financial records ...??

  The caller did not clarify. Or explain why he was up and not sounding a bit sleepy at 3:00 a.m.

  “A man should take better care of his family, Mr. Delaney, and his business. As I’m sure you are aware, there was an unfortunate fire in your building earlier this evening. I’m afraid all the offices on your floor were destroyed.”

  A fire?

  No. He was not aware. He’d been kind of busy this evening. This was unreal.

  “Since your services will no longer be required, my associate is waiting for you at your home, to make sure the terms of our agreement are satisfied. Our business is at an end.”

  The thought of walking into his home, where that ugly, little man waited, smirking, probably sitting in Garrett’s good chair, turned his stomach. In one day it was gone. All of it! His business, his money and, if he went back home, probably his life! Well, he just wouldn’t go back. He rolled this new idea around in his head for a minute.

  The hell with them! The police, Mr. Yoshimoto’s gopher, all of them! The juggling, the kowtowing, the obsequious crawling to the client he should never have taken on. All of it needed to go. He could see that now. What he needed was a simpler life.

  Time to clear the decks! He had the cash. He had the passports. Only the Logan woman knew he’d been out here, but she didn’t know where he was now, or where he was going. If she managed to survive the night, and identified him, the police would assume he’d return to Seattle. They’d be looking for him there. But there was nothing left for him in Seattle.

  He could go to Mexico. Start a new life. Open a little bait shop. Maybe run a charter boat. Give sailing lessons. Their last vacation he landed a big marlin. He was good at fishing.

  Garrett got back on the road. All he needed now was his family. That’s all he needed. He could see that now. Lauren would come to her senses. Lauren, Shannon...they could all be together again, just like it was before all this got so crazy. Lauren loved him. He knew he’d messed up. He’d show her he was going straight. No more big money schemes. He was going to be a good husband.

  He grabbed his phone, pulled up GPS, and in the destination box, entered Tijuana, Mexico. All he needed to fix his life was his wife and daughter. This was going to work.

  Hell, they’re on the way!

  58

  Lori felt herself floating, drifting up towards consciousness. There was light, some muffled sounds. She still couldn’t feel anything. It was like she didn’t have a body. It was exhausting. Too much effort to fight her way to the surface.

  She drifted in and out through ribbons of memories. She was back in Seattle. Before Jasper, before she and Shannon escaped.

  She had 15 minutes before Neal came looking for her. Fifteen minutes to make the call. The only reason she was alone now was because she told him she had a parent conference with Shannon’s pre-school teacher. Instead, she was meeting with the people from House of Ruth. When she called the number the nurse gave her, they told her what to do. All she had to do was call. When she was ready.

  She decided to wait until summer vacation. After Shannon was out of pre-school. The House of Ruth people had it all worked out. They’d obviously done this before. Her contact told her to make sure she had no appointments, work or personal, for the week she was leaving. That way no one would miss her right away and start looking for her.

  This was not going to be a problem. Garrett made her quit her job years ago, and she had no plans with friends to cancel. Garrett had seen to that. Because of his increasing pressure, she gradually drifted away from all her friends. The only person she saw now
was her mom, and not very often. Her mom knew Garrett was jealous. She wouldn’t think it unusual if she didn’t call for a week or so.

  The bottom line was no one would miss her or come looking for her for weeks. Still, her neighbor, Rae McCluskey, may wonder. She was usually out gardening in the mornings and always said hello. Gave Shannon holiday cookies last Christmas, which Garrett made her throw away. She lied to Rae and told her they were delicious. They’d avoided her ever since. She was embarrassed. The woman had been kind. What must she have thought of her?

  Lori’s mind wandered again. She began to feel her body, although it was still too heavy to move. She tried to lift an arm and failed. The memories continued to flow, stronger now.

  Vanishing Day finally arrived! Her heart raced. She felt so alive!

  Early morning, the smell of coffee in her to-go cup. Windows rolled up. Hum of traffic on the highway. Shannon asleep on the seat next to her. Still slightly giddy with the success of their escape. She’d lowered the passenger seat as flat as it would go and tucked pillows and coats around her daughter to make her comfortable.

  That’s why she left. Shannon. Shannon laughing. Shannon beginning to lose that look of tight worry around her eyes. Her new job, her new friends, her nice neighbor.

  Lori moaned.

  The last night at the new house came pounding back. A sledgehammer of memories. Opening the door, seeing him there, fighting, Garrett going for Shannon, her leaping on his back ... his fist coming straight at her face ... blinding pain ... falling.

  Where was Shannon? What happened to Shannon?! She had to get up and find Shannon! But her body wouldn’t move.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Except for the background harmony of blips and hisses, the ICU was quiet. Rhonda expertly moved through her routines, checked her patient’s vitals, fluid and oxygen levels. Right now, her patient was resting peacefully. Nine days ago, she regained consciousness, but the doctors had to give her something stronger to keep her from pulling out her tubes. She kept trying to get out of bed. The team finally agreed to use physical restraints in case she woke when no one was there and tried again.