Innocence Taken (9 page)

"Please let me go. I can't take it right now."

"Nature..."

"Please, not now."

He let her go and moved back to his side of the cab. He was angry. He was disappointed, both in himself and in her.. Nature raised her head. She kept her gaze forward. She knew Westerly was mad at her, mad at her rejection. But, she wasn't ready, wasn't ready for what he wanted. She had felt it in his touch. She was still too raw from the last session. And, she missed Brad dearly. After wiping the tears from her face, she pulled the gear lever down into drive and merged back onto I-95.

Daytona was just over an hour away. According to the card given to Westerly by Officer Spangle, they had to go beyond it to Brevard County, to a city called Cocoa. That meant they would arrive in Cocoa at around eleven o'clock at night. Too late to check in with the police. The headlights of the camper lit the yellow reflectors in the center of the road. She started to count them silently to herself. It passed the time. Web kept his face pointed toward the window. He didn't finish the sandwich. When the silence was too much, she broke it.

"Web, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it,” he said more to the window than to her.

"Web, really ... I'm sorry."

"I said don't worry about it."

That was her cue to drop it. He didn't want to discuss it. Just like when he did not push her earlier, she was not going to push him now. They rode the rest of the way in silence.

The highway sign for SR 520 glowed in the brightness of the headlights. It indicated the turnoff was coming up. As predicted, their arrival time was ten minutes after eleven. She drove down the ramp and turned left. A Best Western was ahead on the right. She was tired. Deciding it was the best place to stop for the night, she pulled into the parking area. They would contact Spangle in the morning.

Westerly was out of the camper as soon as it stopped. He had yet to say anything since her break down and rejection of his comforts. At the moment, she was too tired to care. All she wanted was the warm comfort of a soft bed. He walked into to the lobby and checked in. When he came out, he indicated for Nature to drive around to the back. She pulled into the parking spot in front of their room and turned the engine off. Before Nature could get her door open, Web got out and moved to the back of the camper. He had both suitcases in hand and was walking to the stairs. They were on the second floor.

She stood up with a sigh. After making sure the camper was locked, even though she knew Web would not leave it unlocked, she followed him upstairs. The door to their room stood open. He was putting his suitcase on the bed closest to the door; hers was already on the farther bed. He reached inside and grabbed his toothbrush and paste. Pajamas followed, draped over his forearm when he moved to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Nature sighed again. Closing the door behind her, she walked over to her suitcase. She opened it, removed her own pajamas and hygiene items then sat on the bed to wait.

Web opened the door and stepped into the main area. Nature gazed at him then quickly dropped her eyes. She rose to her feet, keeping her gaze locked on the floor. She knew the pajamas he wore. She knew them intimately. She moved past him toward the bathroom. When she passed, they brushed against each other. Even though she did not have contact with skin, she felt the electricity coming off him. Her heart pounded. She practically ran into the bathroom, shutting the door quickly. Leaning against it, she tried to get herself under control.

She hated the fact that they worked together. She hated herself for giving Westerly Brad's clothes. She hated the fact that he looked so good in them. It made her regret leaving Sandy at home. At least with Sandy, she felt calm, in control. With Web, nothing inside was calm. Everything remained in constant turmoil.

The sink stood in front of her. She removed her gloves and grabbed the hot and cold knobs.. The zing of Web ran through her. She had forgotten he had touched it prior to her. She held them lightly, allowing his feelings to run through her. She felt his concern, his fears, his loss. Letting go, she rubbed her hands together. She wondered what it was that he had lost. Picking up a folded washcloth, she opened it and used it to touch anything else in the room. Once she finished with the toilet, brushed her teeth, and changed, she opened the door.

Westerly was lying under the covers on his side. His back faced her. He didn't move or acknowledge her as she pulled her own covers down and slid under them. She threw an arm above her head after she fell back onto the pillow. Staring up at the ceiling, she tried to figure out what he had lost. Eventually, sleep overcame her. Though it was not filled with the rest she had hoped for.

The man reached the beach at nine in the morning. He loved Florida in October. The weather was great and the girls clad in almost nothing. He cruised up A1A, watching the people walk along the sidewalk. He had settled on Cocoa Beach because it was the home of
I Dream of Jeannie
and
The Cape,
both shows he used to watch, both no longer shown unless in reruns.

He knew most of the young ones would be in school. He thought about them sitting at their desks and wished he could sit with them. He wished he could take one under the bleachers and show her his pleasures. The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became. The last one had died before he could get the full pleasure out of her that he had wanted. The loss was okay though, she had not been The One. He was hunting for her now. He was sure he would find her this time.

He was at a traffic light, waiting for it to turn green. A group of older women, their silver hair shining bright in the sunlight, crossed the street in front of him. They looked like they had just come from the beach, probably walking to stay in shape. From the way some of them looked, he knew they needed to walk more.

Since his arrival, he had not seen anyone who might be the One. He was about to give up and head south, toward Miami, when a sweet young thing sped past the older ones. He watched as she stopped, turned back, and waved at her parents. They were in front of a nearby real estate business. She ran toward a park located down the road. He watched as she disappeared over the boardwalk onto the beach. She looked about eighteen or nineteen.

She's The One ... I know she is. She is, she is, she is.
He sang the catchy tune in his mind, even after the light turned green.

He merged into the left turn lane and entered the park. Pulling the van into a parking spot close to the exit, he got out and placed a magnetic sign of the side of the van before he started after the girl. On the boardwalk, he saw her walking south, kicking the waves, her shoes swinging in her hand. She was wonderful with her half shirt and short shorts. Her long brunette hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He knew she would eventually return this way. He would bide his time, no matter how long.

The girl turned north, heading toward the boardwalk. She was returning. The man reminded himself to breath normally. He waited. When she was close, he smiled. She smiled back. It was a sweet smile, full of beautiful innocence.

"New to the area?” he asked.

"We will be."

"We?"

"Me and my parents."

"Welcome. Where are you from?"

"Texas."

"What brought you all the way from Texas?"

"My dad got a job at the space center."

He leaned back against the railing for the steps. “Wow, that's cool.” Straightening, he asked, “Hey—can you help me with something?"

"Depends on what it is."

"I have to move a heavy trash can out of my vehicle and my helpers deserted me for breakfast. I could really use your help."

She looked around the parking lot. “Which one is it?"

He pointed to his van. The magnetic sign he had placed on its side before following her indicated he worked for the city trash service.

"You work here?"

"I confess ... I do."

She looked at his pullover shirt and shorts, lifting an eyebrow in doubt. “Is this a uniform?"

"It is when you work in Florida.” He knew she had no idea what the workers wore. She was new to the area.

After a quick glance across the street, toward the real estate place, she answered, “Okay."

He was elated. He led her to the back of the van and opened the doors. A large beat up oil drum was inside. He got in and attempted to move it. It wouldn't budge. He waved for her come in to assist. Again, she hesitated, but decided it was okay. Besides, it was broad daylight. No one would do anything at this time, not with other people walking by. She got in.

When she moved next to him, the man grabbed her hair and slammed her head into the drum. She slumped to the floor, unconscious. The man covered her with a blanket before dragging the barrel out of the van. He left it close to another. Getting behind the wheel, he reached out and removed the sign. Moments after the girl entered the vehicle, it was driving toward I-95, toward the cabin.

He knew he had to get out of the area quickly. The parents would be looking for her soon. He turned left onto SR 520. He drove past a hospital, a Wal-Mart, a mall, and a Best Western. He merged onto the highway, heading north. Before long, he knew he would stop and show the girl his pleasures. For now, he needed to put miles between him and the ones who threatened to take his prize away.

Nature heard the phone as it was set down on the cradle. She rolled over and saw Westerly sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in jeans and a light blue pullover. He had a card in his hand.

"Did you call Spangle?"

"Yea."

"Is he going to meet us somewhere?"

"The Denny's."

"Did he give you directions?” She knew it was a stupid question. She didn't care.

"Yeah.."

"I don't usually do breakfast before a session."

"I do."

Westerly pulled up his pant leg and strapped a small revolver to his calf. Nature understood. No cop, no matter how far they were from home, went anywhere without a weapon of some kind. It was second nature to them, especially if they were on the job as long as Web was. It was the same with her, she never went anywhere without at least two pairs of gloves.

She flipped back the covers, picked out some clothes, and got ready faster than usual. Once the dirty clothes were put away, she moved to open the door leading outside. Westerly was there first. He opened it, standing off to the side to allow her to pass. She smiled, He remain aloof, professional. He made sure not to touch her. Her smile faded.

Nature went down the stairs to the camper.. To show her defiance at his behavior, and hide the hurt, she opened her own door and got in before he could reach it. He shrugged his shoulders, walked to the driver's side, and sat down behind the wheel. He stuck his hand out for the keys held forgotten in her gloved hand. She gave them to him. The engine purred to life.. He backed the camper out and exited onto SR 520, heading toward the beaches.

They stopped for the red light at the intersection of SR520 and SR 3. The Denny's was just up the road on the right. The camper was in the center lane of a three-lane roadway. Both had their attention focused on getting into the right lane as soon as the light changed. They ignored the oncoming traffic. If they had been looking, they would have seen a plain brown van drive past, a lone occupant sitting inside.

Westerly cut the driver of a BMW convertible off immediately after the light changed. A well-manicured finger rose to meet the occasion. Nature smiled. It had been a long time since she'd received such a gesture. The last time was with Brad.

He turned the camper into the entrance of the diner and parked next to a deputy's car. The car was unoccupied. They went inside. The waitress came up to them, reaching for menus.

"Two?"

"Actually, we're meeting someone."

Deputy Spangler raised a hand in greeting, waving them over. The waitress glanced over her shoulder, toward where they looked. She faced them again. “I see your party is already here. This way please.” She led them to the booth, placed menus in front of them, and took their beverage orders. Spangle had waited for them. She returned with their coffee, promising to return when they were ready to order the rest.

When she was gone, Spangle said, “You made good time."

"We pretty much drove straight through,” Westerly said.

"When do you want to get started?"

"Whenever you're ready.” Westerly picked up his cup and sipped. He grimaced. Setting it down, he added three packets of sugar, stirred it, sipped again and decided it needed more.

"After we eat,” Spangle said, picking up the menu. “I know I asked you to start right away but, with this job, one never knows what will happen next, or when the next meal will be. A good breakfast is the best way to start the day"

Nature remained quiet. She dreaded what was coming. The sessions always took a lot out of her. Leaving the menu on the table, not interested on what lay inside, she sipped her coffee. She drank it black.

The waitress returned with a wave from Spangle and took their orders. After dropping the orders off with the cook, she refilled their cups.

Nature watched her walk away before turning her attention to the officer across the table, at Spangle. “Have you found anything more?"

"I'm afraid not. I do have what you requested in my car. I left it there to reduce the risk of others handling it."

"Thank you."

The waitress appeared a short time later with two complete breakfast bowls in hand, meat lovers style. She set them in front of the men. Nature tried not to smell the food; it made her sick. She tried not to listen to the noise in the diner. She tried not to dwell on the feelings running through the cup. Feelings from the waitress: her loves, her concerns about her child, her worries about paying her bills, everything about her.. Even though gloves protected her hands, her lips still touched the cup when she drank.

"Nature, you okay?"

Nature opened her eyes at the calling of her name. She saw empty dishes on the table. She must have phased out, for how long she was uncertain. Westerly watched her, his eyes filled with concern. Spangle glanced in her direction. He did not maintain contact. He did not know what to think of the situation. Nature knew he would feel that way again, soon.