Charming Lily (17 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Charming Lily
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“You're thinking he's somewhere on the Trace or maybe out by Anna's Bottom, right? Lily, good as we are, and I say this with all modesty, we don't have a prayer of finding him in those woods. There's got to be around four hundred thousand acres, and it's all federal land now. I know that because I read it in the paper not too long ago. I have no idea how big Anna's Bottom is. I don't even know if you're allowed on the property. Are there parks there? Do you know? We might have a chance if he was at that wildlife preserve. A chance is being real generous. You know the one, Saint Something-Or-Other. I see the signs all the time, but the name eludes me at the moment. I think places like that are closed for the winter. It sounds logical that whoever snatched him took him to a place like that and turned him loose. No one goes to those places in the winter. Did Matt learn anything when he took our course?”
“Not much. For a while he thought it was a game. He knew we'd get him back safe and sound. However, sometimes Matt is like a sponge. He soaks stuff up, and you don't realize it until later when he regales you with the whole thing. I'm going to attempt to draw the building I saw. First thing in the morning, I'm going to go to the historical society and see if anyone recognizes the picture and, if we're lucky, can tell us where it is and how to get there. We're going to pack up and start searching as soon as we have something definite to go on. If you don't want to go with me, Sadie, it's okay. I'm taking Gracie and Buzz with me. I'm not sure about Dennis. He's a bit of a prairie flower when it comes to the outdoors. He might slow us down. What's really worrying me is if Matt really is out there, how long can he survive with no food or water? I'm just assuming he has no food or water. He doesn't know how to forage. Gracie did better than he'll do. It gets damn cold at night. Sadie, I'm worried, and I'm really starting to get scared.”
“You have every right to be scared, Lily. So am I. I think both of us are selling Matt short. I think he's going to be just fine. We could alert the rangers. Or don't they have rangers? At least the authorities.”
“Let's talk to Dennis about it first. I don't want to cause Matt or his company any problems later on.”
Lily's heart melted as Gracie got up, Matt's shoe tightly clamped between her teeth, and walked out the door. Such devotion. Lily hugged the other worn, smelly sneaker to her chest.
Human devotion, animal devotion. It was called love, pure and simple.
 
 
Matt woke and knew it was daylight because the forest wasn't as dark as it had been when he lay down hours ago to go to sleep. He wasn't cold, but he was hungry and had no idea what time it was. The moment he stood up, every single bone in his body protested. He did his best to hobble about as he struggled to get his bearings. He looked for a tree to climb, but they were all too high, with no low branches, nothing to get a foothold on. There was no way he could possibly get his bearings if he didn't know north from south or east from west. Maybe his best bet would be to go back the way he'd come, to the building where he had been held captive, but he'd run blindly because of the bats. How had his captors gotten to the house? By car or on foot? People with brains didn't build a brick building in the middle of nowhere without an access road. How had he gotten to the building? Was he driven? Did he walk? Did they carry him? He simply couldn't remember.
He made the decision to go back. He looked around for the path he'd taken to get to where he was. Anything he might have trampled had sprung upright thanks to the heavy morning dew. He felt a wave of panic start to overtake him. Common sense told him panic would get him nowhere. What would Lily do? Notch the trees, mark the path anyway she could. He longed for bread crumbs but knew if he had a fistful of them he would eat every single one. He wished there was a way to sit down to a golden yellow omelette with crisp bacon piled high on the side. At least four slices of thick Texas toast with warm, soft butter and a whole pot of strong, dark coffee. Maybe some jam for his toast, the kind his mother used to make from wild strawberries, the little red ones that were sweeter than sugar balls. He loved eating jam out of the jar when he finished breakfast. His sweet for the day. When he finally got his ass out of there that was the first thing he was going to eat. For the moment he would chew on a stick and pray to God it wasn't poisonous. Stick. He needed a stick to carry. “I will get out of this,” he muttered. “I swear to God, I am going to get out of this.”
Once or twice during the long morning he called out and didn't know why. Maybe to hear his own voice. There was never a response.
His blisters now had blisters; before long they would get infected. He knew it was way past lunchtime. He thought about food again. The second thing he would order to eat would be a thick ham sandwich with two slices of Swiss cheese with lots of mustard on good, fresh rye bread. Two bottles of Corona beer to wash it down and then a big, as in really big, slice of homemade apple pie, the kind with raisins and nuts in it. Two scoops of ice cream and a huge mug of coffee. He groaned as he chewed on his stick.
He continued to trudge along until he saw a bright shaft of light. His step quickened, and one of the Wellingtons slipped off his foot. In his life he'd never felt such exquisite relief. He took a moment to revel in the feeling. He saw the building then. The same building he'd been in yesterday. He'd managed to get back to the building. He hobbled over to the fallen log he'd sat on the day before. He pulled off the other boot and almost cried with relief.
What the hell was he supposed to do? Maybe if he went back inside the building and up to the second floor he could open one of the dormer windows and somehow get on the roof. If he could get to the roof, maybe he would be able to see over the top of the tree line to a road or a direction in which to go forward. He thought about the bats. Would they attack him?
He clenched his teeth, wishing there was someone close enough to kill.
 
 
“This is Dennis Wagner, Meredith. I need to speak to Marcus. If he isn't there, tell me how I can reach him. Don't tell me you don't know if you want to keep your job. I called over a dozen times, and he hasn't responded. Nor has he answered his pager. Now where the hell is he?” He listened to Marcus's secretary's jittery voice and frowned.
“Marcus went to Maine? Now I've heard everything. Did he say when he would be back? He didn't say, he left you a
note
? Did he take his cell phone or pager? You don't know? Give me his home phone number, Meredith. I'll call Betsy. She isn't home either, she's at the Golden Door? Yes, give me that number. With both Marcus and me away, who's dealing with the media? Lou Sims. Okay, put me through to Lou. Yes, I have Mrs. Collins's number. Thank you, Meredith. If Marcus calls in, tell him to call me immediately.”
Dennis chewed on the end of a pencil as he waited for Lou Sims to come on the line. “Everything okay, Lou? Good. How are you doing with the media? Yeah, yeah, they are a pain in the ass. Just keep saying ‘no comment' until you're blue in the face. Sooner or later they'll let up. Do you know why Marcus went to Maine? What's wrong with his kids? As long as it isn't serious. Anything going on I should know about? You have my number, call me if anything happens. Otherwise, it's business as usual. I'm not doing much, just hanging out here till Matt gets back. Nah, don't believe that crap. Matt's a stand-up guy, he wouldn't leave his fiancée standing at the altar. I don't give a shit what Marcus Collins said. Who are you going to believe, Lou, Marcus or me?” He listened, and said, “So Marcus plays racquetball with Eric Savarone, so what? I play chess with some of our competitors once in a while. Hell, I think Matt had lunch not too long ago with Bill Gates. Don't get your jockeys in a wad over this unless you have something more concrete to go on. Ask Marcus when he gets back. Okay, call me if you hit any snags.”
Lily and Sadie both started to babble the moment Dennis clicked off his cell phone. Lily held out Matt's shoe as she pointed to Gracie, who was lying on the floor, Matt's other shoe between her paws. “We broke into that house. We're criminals, Dennis. We could go to jail.” Dennis waved away the words as though they were of no importance.
“Dennis, tell me again why we aren't calling the police and the park rangers? We're just three people, they have hundreds that could be out there searching for Matt. We're playing with his life here. These visions or whatever it is I'm experiencing aren't really helping us. He could die out there, Dennis.”
“It all has to do with the company, Lily. Matt and I talked about this so many times I know the drill by heart. He absolutely refused to have security guards, said he wasn't going to live his life like that. We talked about possible kidnappings and such and he said under no circumstances were we ever to pay ransom if something like that happened. You never call in the authorities unless you have no other choice. He meant it, too. The man's my boss and my friend. As much as I want to call the police, I always pull back because our other option is us. You've got his shoes, so we know he's alive. Okay, we
think
he's alive. You did a B&E and found his shoes and clothes. In your vision he had on boots and other clothes. He's alive, I know it. He's always trusted me to do what we agreed upon. I can't switch up now. Maybe if things get dicey and there's no other choice, then I'll do it. Until I'm satisfied in my own mind, it's the three of us. Now, draw me a picture of the building. Instead of going to the historical society in the morning, run down to the police station, give them some kind of story, and ask if they can recognize the building. I think Sadie should be the one to do it. The less visible you and I are, the better it will be. Do you agree?”
Lily nodded as she reached for a pencil and a sheet of paper from the fax machine. Sadie shrugged back into her jacket and waited patiently.
“I'll stop at one of those twenty-four-hour convenience stores to get what we need. We have enough gear for Dennis, don't we?” Lily nodded.
“I'm going to pack up our gear. Sadie and I agreed to leave early in the morning. Probably four-thirty or five. We can stow our stuff in the Rover tonight just in case someone is hanging around outside when we're ready to leave. Are you definitely coming with us?”
“I'm with you for whatever good I'll be. If you remember, I didn't do so well the time the company went out with you. Where are we going?”
“That depends on the information Sadie brings back. I can't sit here any longer doing nothing. The more days that go by, the worse it will get for Matt. He just isn't an outdoor person. That's not a bad thing. I'm not a computer person, and I don't think that's such a bad thing.”
“I wish we knew more about the people that own that store. That's a really fishy deal there. It kind of smacks you in the face if you know what I mean. I know it's late, but can you think of anyone we can call to ask questions about the owners of the store?”
“Only Mr. Sonner. He pretty much told me everything he knew when I saw him outside the store. He didn't seem to have any problem believing the store was closed for a death in the family. The only thing the least bit out of the ordinary was the comment he made about the store paying three salaries since they didn't do that much business. This is the only lead we have, so we have to run with it.”
“Marcus isn't around,” Dennis blurted.
Lily withdrew from the hall closet to stare at Dennis. “What does that mean?”
“He hasn't answered any of my calls. His secretary said he went to Maine where his kids are on a school ski trip. His wife is at a spa in California. I suppose it's logical for Marcus to be the one to go to Maine since he was the closest parent. Marcus prides himself on being the kind of executive that returns phone calls, chats, and does all that professional bullshit to get ahead. So, it's unlike him not to respond to his pager. I think he sleeps with the damn thing because he doesn't want to miss anything. I was thinking about calling Betsy when you gals walked in. I have a bad feeling where Marcus is concerned.”
Lily yanked at the sleeping bags. She unrolled them and then rerolled them, trying to make them smaller and not as bulky. “I don't suppose you have any long underwear, do you?” Dennis shook his head. “What do you think Betsy will tell you?”
“Probably nothing. Still, it won't hurt to call.”
“No, it won't hurt to call. Guess you're going to have to wear our underwear. Sadie's might fit you, but they'll be short in the leg so you'll have to pull your socks up high. Your feet are the first thing to get cold, then your rear end. Since you don't have hiking boots, you'll have to double up on your socks. It gets real cold early in the morning and again at night. You know about hypothermia, right?” Dennis nodded.
“How long do you think we'll be out there, Lily?”
“As long as it takes. Call Betsy. See what she has to say. Maybe it will make you feel better.”
“That's a lot of stuff you have there,” Dennis muttered, eyeing the mound of camping gear.
“What you pack for one day is the same as what you pack for thirty days. The same thing,” Lily said.

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