The Registry (11 page)
She held Whitney as she peered out the door, watching the scene play out on the ground below. Andrew was raising what looked like a bat and swinging it down with full force. Each blow created a sick crushing sound. Andrew was talking to himself with intensity.
“You think you’re going to kill me?”
Blood was flying onto Andrew’s clothes and the back of the truck with each swing of the bat. He looked wild. Whitney cried and looked away, but Mia couldn’t take her eyes off Andrew. With each smack of the bat, he grew more intense. After a few minutes, it was difficult to tell if Scott had ever had a face. Mia couldn’t take any more and screamed for Andrew to stop.
Dazed, he looked up and saw the girls. It was clear they were the farthest thing from his mind. His breathing was rapid.
It dawned on Mia that this killing wasn’t a protective measure. It was revenge for Scott’s assault on Andrew. However, no matter the rationale, Mia was grateful. She let go of Whitney and climbed out of the truck. She glanced at what was left of Scott. There was no possible way he was alive. Andrew’s breathing began to slow down to a normal pace. He tossed the bat on the ground and started to walk toward the small building. He looked insane as the blood dripped down his face.
Mia stood speechless. She noticed the weapon wasn’t a baseball bat but a tree branch. It made the killing seem even more ruthless somehow. She looked at the body and knew it couldn’t be left here like this. She wasn’t sure whether it was safer to hide Scott in the corn or put him back in the truck. Either way, sitting here wasn’t going to do much.
“Whitney, grab some fertilizer bags and empty them. We’re going to need to move this,” Mia said, still not taking her eyes off the corpse.
Technology leads to an oversimplified life. Postservice it is important that you use only government-approved devices.
—The Boy’s Guide to Service
A
gain, let me offer my condolences. We will have your wife home before the day is over.” Leonard, the senior regional agent, was apologizing again. “And as for Agent Jeffries’s conduct toward you earlier, he meant no disrespect.”
“Calm down, you’ll give yourself a heart attack.” Grant smiled into the rearview mirror and gave Agent Jeffries, who was cradling his arm in a sling, a wink, much to the agent’s chagrin. Grant tapped the dashboard as Leonard drove. “Remember, boys, I am in charge, and I doubt we’ll find her tonight. She’s already been gone for almost forty-eight hours. The longer she’s gone, the harder she’ll be to find.”
“Sir, you have our full team at your disposal for anything you need. We are confident she couldn’t have gone far,” replied Leonard.
The SUV slowed to a stop along the interstate. The four men piled out of the car. Jeffries and the other low-level agent did not look happy about taking orders from Grant. Grant didn’t really want their help anyway. He was happy to do this on his own. He just wanted their resources, and he didn’t mind showing off his skill set.
Leonard was an older man, tall and thin with no hair. He was also used to giving orders, not taking them.
“The car was found abandoned about twenty-five feet into the crops,” said Leonard as he signaled for the group to start walking.
Giddy, Grant rubbed his hands together as he made his way through the corn. Part of him hoped she had gotten farther away and would make the hunt more difficult. The tracks in the crops led straight to the car. Grant circled the vehicle.
“You think she drove it in here by accident?” one of the agents asked.
Grant didn’t bother to respond. He kept circling the car, looking in through the windows, at the ground, and at the crushed cornstalks.
“My my, a worthy adversary. I must say I am surprised,” Grant said.
“So she ran the car off the road. Since she didn’t know how to drive, I can’t believe she kept it on the road long,” Jeffries said.
“I’m satisfied,” Grant said as he started walking back toward their vehicle. The three agents followed close in tow.
“Don’t you want to look a little more? You didn’t even go into the car,” Jeffries said, not impressed with Grant at all.
“I saw everything I need to see,” replied Grant curtly.
“I’m going to call in and have a forensic team sent down here; maybe they can tell us something.” Leonard reached for his phone.
“You would waste your department’s money,” Grant said. “But suit yourself.”
“Well, why don’t you just tell us what you figured out?” Jeffries asked. He did little to hide the smugness in his tone.
Grant was happy to accept his invitation. He stopped in the midst of the corn and turned toward his audience. All three of them were uncomfortable in their black suits, the standard RAG uniform, but Grant was dressed sensibly. He had opted for a lime-green polo with navy blue shorts, casual yet cool. He enjoyed making them sweat, but not nearly as much as he enjoyed showing off.
“One person was in this car when it was dropped. The door that was open in the field was the driver’s-side door. Since we know there are two girls traveling together, the car was a dump. The gas gauge was on empty. But those girls were smart enough to try to hide it. We know they were heading south, and this car was deserted a long time ago. Even if she were walking, she would have made it past our radius by now, so I’d stop the roadblocks.”
“Sir, it is policy not to release a picture to the public until an abductor has been identified. We can’t put it out there that she just ran away. It’s not worth the backlash of other girls thinking they could run. So, without the roadblocks there’s no way to get the word out,” Leonard said.
“Tell me something, are you married?” Grant asked. “Or at the least, do you know anything about women?”
All three agents stared at Grant, confused.
“Two little girls who have just ventured into the big, bad world are not going to leave each other’s side. At least not at this point in the game. So, why would one of them get out of the car while the other drove into the corn?”
“Maybe one was scared of the bugs and muck in the fields,” Jeffries said.
“More scared than she would be sitting on the side of a highway alone?” Grant asked.
Nobody responded.
“Gentlemen, I think these young ladies have some help. I think they both waited on the road while someone junked the car for them.”
“You got all this from some bent cornstalk by one of the doors?” Jeffries said. “I’m just not buying it.”
“That and the fact that the seat was slid all the way back.” Grant did a jogging backward motion, trying to make light of the other’s stupidity. “Neither of those girls would have been able to reach the pedals. Furthermore, the car’s owner, Mr. Morrissey, is not tall enough to have the seat set that far back. Someone taller set it that way.”
Grant did not wait for a response. He skipped to the SUV and slid into the front seat. With some hesitation, the other agents got inside.
“Alert the closest agents. Tell them to look out for three individuals. We need to head back to the Morrissey farmhouse. I think David has some explaining to do,” Grant ordered.
Grant’s devilish eyes flashed as the car turned around and headed north. His thoughts raced with pleasure at the prospect of getting information out of the old man. He hoped he might be required to use force.
Married life is luxurious. Wives are surrounded by love and affection and need only worry themselves with pleasing their husbands. If a wife commits herself to that goal, she will never have a care in the world.
—The Registry Guide for Girls
F
or the first time in days, Mia became aware of how bad she smelled. She was sure it was from the sweat and travel and not just the stink of the manure. She rolled the fertilizer body bag all the way to the back of the truck, picked up her and Whitney’s bags, and jumped down, slamming the back door.
She did her best to clean up the scene of the crime, but the trickles of blood were still visible on the gravel of the parking lot. It would have been easier if she had some help. She gave Whitney a dirty look but was faced with her back. There was nothing to do about it now; there was no point in dwelling on it. She walked toward Whitney, who was sitting on a log, looking out over the landscape. Mia dropped the bags and had a seat.
“I didn’t sign up for this, people dying.” Whitney’s voice quivered.
“Better him than us. He wasn’t a good person.” Mia was unsure how to comfort her. “We knew we’d run into problems.”
“Did you know Andrew could do that? I never thought he was scary,” Whitney said.
Mia bit her lip. She didn’t want to worry about a split in her team. Whitney was not familiar with violence. She regretted not telling Whitney about Corinna’s article when she had the chance; maybe then she would have understood the situation better. She decided if she told her now, the story would seem forced and Whitney might not believe her.
Mia looked down and noticed the blood all over her shirt and hands, which was also mixed with bits of fertilizer. She assumed she made a convincing boy now.
“Did you bring a change of clothes?” Mia asked as she stood. “We need to change. You’re almost as gross as I am.”
Whitney didn’t stir; instead she just stared off. Mia did not feel like dealing with this right now. She rose and started walking toward the parking lot.
“Put it out of your mind. He’s dead,” she said to Whitney.
Whitney gave Mia a scowl, but she did stand up. As the girls made their way toward the building, a shock of lightning lit up the sky and the rain came pouring down. It fell with such force that Mia thought it would take off her skin, as well as the grime. Neither of them attempted to get out of the storm, using the weather to bathe instead. Mia scrubbed her arm and watched the mud and blood slide to the ground.
Even Whitney seemed to relax a little with the shower. After both girls felt cleaner, they moved back under the trees.
“Now what?” Whitney asked.
“Now we wait for Andrew.”
“Is he still in there?” asked Whitney.
“I think so. I didn’t see him come out.”
“Shouldn’t we get out of here?”
“Not without him.”
“I think we need to leave; he is dangerous. This is a bad idea; we’ll be better off on our own. Let’s go,” Whitney said urgently.
“Not without him.” Mia wasn’t about to change her stance.
“Did you see what I just saw? How he killed that man? What’s to stop him from hurting us?” Whitney choked back tears.
“He was protecting us. He is the best shot we have at Mexico and I am not going to abandon him.” Mia’s voice was stern.
“He was not protecting us. He killed that guy because he wanted to; it was just our luck we benefited from it, too.”
“He was going to hurt you. Andrew saved you; aren’t you grateful?”
Whitney stared at the ground before she spoke. “This is too much for me to handle. I’m glad I’m okay, but I’ve never seen someone in such a rage before. He is dangerous. And that rage wasn’t because I was about to be violated, it was because that man hurt Andrew.”
“Well, it wasn’t directed at us, and I’m not leaving him.”
“Fine.” Whitney threw her arms up, still not seeing Mia’s side.
Mia didn’t think Andrew would hurt either of them, but she did realize he was capable of doing so. Corinna popped back up in her mind. She wished Andrew would have beaten William the same way he had taken care of the trucker; then maybe her sister would be alive and traveling with them. Whitney didn’t understand those feelings yet.
“If you won’t leave him, at least go and get him.” Whitney nudged Mia.
“No. We’ll wait awhile. I think he might need some space.”
Mia saw the fear and concern on Whitney’s face. She realized why she couldn’t comfort her friend. Mia was not afraid or concerned. Scott’s death was incidental to her plans. She shuddered when the cold thought crossed her mind. Her desire to escape was costing her her humanity.
Your time in service will prove your worth as a human being. The harder you fight, the more worthy you are of calling yourself a citizen of this wondrous nation and reaping her rewards.
—The Boy’s Guide to Service
A
ndrew splashed the cold water over his face. He opened his eyes and saw that the sink was turning pink with Scott’s blood. He gripped the edge of the basin so tightly he thought he might crack the porcelain off. The anger was building up again. Andrew felt it rushing to the surface. How could he have been so stupid?
Mia and Whitney were having an effect on him. Seeing their friendship was clouding his judgment; it was making him too trusting. He never should have fallen asleep. It was his fault the girls were almost attacked. He put his hand to the back of his head; they weren’t the only ones who were facing threats. He felt a big bump under his mess of hair, but it didn’t seem like the skin was broken. The only blood on his body was from the trucker.
His thoughts turned back to Scott and how Andrew had let the hatred spew out of his body as he beat the man over and over again with the branch. The sickening crack of Scott’s skull replayed in Andrew’s ear till he couldn’t take it. Andrew ran to the toilet and his stomach heaved. When its contents left his body he let himself slide to the floor. His mind started to clear.
His only goal was to keep Mia and Whitney safe, and he was failing. Not only were they close to danger, but it was because of Andrew. He was getting too close to them. He needed to push all personal concerns away. Keeping his distance was what would keep them all safe. Mia and Whitney trusted each other, and he had wanted to experience trust too, mistakenly putting it in Scott. He needed to do a better job protecting the girls, and that could be accomplished by their staying strangers.