From Pharaoh's Hand (5 page)

             
“Just a little longer, honey.  You can do it.”

             
              “I’m so tired -- so tired.”

             
“Two, three, four,” the doctor began.

             
              “Oh...ohh...”

             
“Seven, eight, nine, and ten.  Good job, Carolyn.  The head is out!”  And then everything grew quiet.

             
              “What is it?” John asked.  The concern was etched in his forehead.

             
The doctor was strangely silent.  Instead another contraction hit, and Carolyn could not hold back.  She pushed the baby out, and then fell heavily back to bed.

             
“Is it a boy?” she remembered asking.

             
     “It’s a girl,” the doctor answered quietly, still not revealing the cause for his concern.  John was so horrified when he left the head of the bed.  His little girl was blue.  The umbilical cord had been wrapped around her neck, and the doctor was deftly working to revive the infant. 

             
“Why isn’t she crying?  What’s wrong with her?  Oh God, someone please say something.”

             
Finally after doing infant CPR, the doctor noted a pulse.  He held the baby up by its ankles and smacked her bottom --a practice he had long abandoned.  The baby coughed hard and inhaled sharply.  A loud wail erupted in the birthing room, and everyone else exhaled a collective sigh of relief. 
I was so scared for my little Beth.

             
Satisfied that the infant was going to be okay, the doctor wrapped her in a warm towel and placed her on Carolyn’s belly.

             
“Ready to meet your daughter, Mrs. Merriweather?”

             
              “She’s so beautiful.”

             
John was wiping tears of joy from his eyes and managed to find his voice.

             
              “You sure make beautiful babies, Mrs. M.”

             
“You’re not too shabby yourself, big guy,” she had said.

     
So long ago, and yet it seemed like yesterday.  Carolyn had had seventeen years of joy, seventeen years of smiles and infectious giggles to warm her heart.
 
But now Beth was missing.  And there was this blog that opened the door to a world of fears that was new for Carolyn. Her chin dropped to her chest with a pitiful groan and her body erupting in deep sobs just as John entered the room.

             
“Honey,” he began softly and placed a hand on her shoulder, “the police are here now.

Chapter 4

Led into Captivity

“
And there rose up a new king in Egypt.” Exodus 1:8

              Checkout time was approaching.  Beth showered and changed clothes and brushed her teeth, then promptly gagged and dry heaved. The first order of business would be to get something into her stomach.  Then she could walk to the bus stop. The continental breakfast in the lobby had already shut down, so she settled for the Waffle House next door.
  
She left the room keys on the television set and pulled the door to behind her. 

             
She walked to the lobby and out the doors unnoticed; the clerk was too busy with paperwork from the night before to even look up. Beth crossed the parking lot and walked over to the Waffle House.  There were several cars in the parking lot. She recognized the two-tone GMC from the day before.
Maybe he stopped by here to sober up before his trip home.
She wondered if he had hit it big at the tracks like he thought he would. She could not imagine what fun lay in throwing away everything on such a risky enterprise. But then wasn’t that exactly what she had done? Rolled the dice and lost.  Big time.  Beth swallowed the hard lump in her throat and entered the building.

             
As soon as she smelled the fresh coffee and greasy bacon frying, she began to feel the nausea welling up in her throat. It was beginning to irritate her. She wondered how many months she would have to endure it. She wondered about a lot of things. Would her parents let her raise the baby? Was adoption an option? Could she give her baby away to strangers?

             
Chris would have to be told; her father would insist on it. She didn’t want Chris marrying her out of obligation. She wasn’t even sure she was ready to be married, but ready or not, she was going to be a mother. Another wave of nausea hit her, and she raced to the ladies’ room to dry heave again.

             
When she came out of the restroom, she was so addled that she ran smack into someone.

             
     “Oh. I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t looking.”

             
“No problem, little missy,” the dirty white man grinned. “Sure is a fine day ain't it?”

             
      “Yeah it is,” she replied and hurried to a table that was sandwiched between two families. A tall and bony waitress with black circles under her eyes and a pencil stuck behind her ear made her way to the table and took her order.

    
Chocolate milk sounded good to Beth, and grilled cheese, and maybe she would try some oatmeal as well. She was not sure how any of it would set on her stomach, but she was ravenous by this time.

             
Catfish Bones, a.k.a, Phineas Jones, exited the men’s room and made his way to a bar stool at the counter. He kept turning his head her way, as if wondering if she recognized him from the day before. After he was seated, he looked over his shoulder again. It was her. He was certain.
Wonder what that lil filly is doing here? Someone just passin’ through should be long gone by now. Did she suspect something? Was she one of those undercover agents he had heard about? They trained ‘em mighty young these days. No one would imagine that little slip of a girl to be a DEA officer. That would make the perfect cover. I better watch myself.
             

     “
Give me a coffee, black, hash browns smothered and covered, and three scrambled eggs with toast.”

          “
You got it, sir. Comin’ right up,” the skinny waitress replied.

             
He turned on his bar stool to face Elizabeth and seeing she was within earshot, he fished a bit. 

     “
You, little lady, you from around here?” Elizabeth looked up, surprised that he had spoken. She looked around. The place was full of customers. No harm in answering him. He was just making small talk.

             
“Not too far from here. I stayed at the Horseshoe a little too long last night. Missed the casino ride back.”

     “
Oh is that so? You have any luck over there?”

             
“Nope. Not a bit. Just kept trying to win my money back,” she lied. “How about you?”

     “I, uh, come to town occasionally to do a bit of gambling on the dogs,” he lied right back.

             
“You have any luck last night?” she asked.

   “
I didn’t do too bad for an old geezer. Was out rather late myself. Just headed back home. Thought I’d grab a bite first.”

             
“Didn’t I see you over there at the Shell yesterday?” Elizabeth asked, but soon regretted it. By the look on his face, he remembered her too, and was not pleased.

     “
Uh...yep...me and Carnel is track buddies. He didn’t hit a lick all night. Was all broke up about it too.”

          “
Sounds like he has my kind of luck.”

     
Elizabeth played with the oatmeal, stirring it in small circles. They had brought the man’s food by now, and he had turned back to his plate and was putting the food away.
If he comes to Memphis to gamble with that Carnel, then why was he having to follow him to the track? And what was he doing putting horse feed in the back of Carnel’s car?
She remembered seeing a couple of horse farms advertised along the way to Memphis. “Tennessee Walking Horses For Sale, Pine Hill Stables,” one sign had read near the Brownsville exit.  Maybe Carnel did raise horses.

             
Elizabeth choked down as much of the breakfast as she could stand. She placed a tip on the table and headed for the register, taking her chocolate milk with her. She asked for a to-go cup as the waitress rang up her check.

             
“I’m a headed your way if you need a ride, missy. Don’t mind a little company.”

             
              “That’s ok. I’m going to catch a bus back.”

             
“Well, yore welcome to ride with me, if you ain’t skeered of a good ol’ boy like me.”

          “
Thanks just the same, but I’m not quite ready to leave town.” Elizabeth paid the ticket and headed back to the restrooms.  The man’s body odor had sent her morning sickness into overdrive.

             
Catfish paid his tab and headed out to the truck to do a bit of thinking. He put a dollar into the newspaper machine and drew out a paper. The robbery had made front page. He quickly scanned the article.  No suspects, no leads. “Police frantic to find leads and suspects before the trail goes cold,” he mumbled.
She saw me with Frankie last night. If Frankie’s body is found, there will be an investigation. The girl can put me in Memphis at the time of the robbery.  She’s a loose end. Even if she’s not DEA, she’s seen me. 
He would wait for her to come out from the Waffle House.  He would just have to make sure she never made it the bus station. There were plenty of places back home to hide a body. He had not come this far and gotten in this deep to spend the rest of his life in the penitentiary. Such a shame. She was such a pretty young thing too. Maybe he would carry her up in the hills a few days and have some fun with her first.

             
Catfish cranked the old truck and started the heater. It was another mild day in the 50’s, but his blood and bones were ice cold. He was too old to make these runs. He was going to retire and build a brick and mortar home with indoor plumbing soon. Soon, if everything went well. Everything must go as planned; the future depended upon it. He had too much at stake to turn back now.

             
“An Amber alert has just been issued for the states of Tennessee, Kentucky, Arkansas, Alabama, Mississippi, and Georgia. The missing child is 17-year-old Elizabeth Morgan Merriweather, from Jackson, Tennessee, last seen on her job at Wal-Mart on Vann Drive yesterday evening around 7 p.m.  She is 5’5, blonde-haired, blue eyed, and was believed to be wearing blue jeans, a blue top, and white Nike tennis shoes. Police believe she may be a runaway as no sign of foul play has been found at this time.”

             
So she was a runaway. She didn’t run far. Spent the night in Memphis. Not too smart a cookie is she. This should be easy enough. But the cops are looking for her. It does draw some attention away from the robbery, though. Two hours from now, we’ll be in the clear. They will never find her. 

             
Elizabeth had not come out of Waffle House. He was parked right in front of the building. She had not even returned from the restrooms. He would act quickly, corner her in the little hallway, and have a little discussion about her predicament. She would go with him, he was sure of it. He would promise her safe harbor. He would promise her whatever she wanted. But she would go with him.

             
Catfish left the engine running and went inside. He made his way back to the restrooms unnoticed by the busy waitress. Beth was exiting when he grabbed her arm, pushed her against a wall, and blocked her passage. The restrooms were around a corner. No one could see. He would just have to back off if someone rounded the corner. Beth gasped in surprise, then fear overtook her.

     “
What do you want?”

          “
You’re that runaway from Jackson aren’t you? I just heard it on my radio,” he spoke in low tones.

     “
What? How...”