'Tis the Season: A Collection of Mimi's Christmas Books (57 page)

Jesse had noticed a disturbed fellow, dressed like a soldier, and an idea surfaced that wouldn’t go away. Moving quickly, he called his old army buddy, Captain Phil Reid, a man totally immersed in helping returning veterans who had trouble with the system.

Jesse begged Phil to check their files for an address for Jack Foster. It wasn’t until he came clean as to why he needed the information that Phil agreed to help. On one condition. That he came along to make sure Jack got treated properly.

“No problem, Phil. You’ll be able to handle the dude a lot better than myself. Right now, if he has Layla, all I want to do is hurt the sick son-of-a-bitch.”

“See, that’s why I need to be there. I’ll text you where to meet.”

A few minutes later, Jesse received the address, jumped in his truck and headed to the nearby street. As promised, he waited for Phil to pull up behind him and exit from the specialized van that accommodated his wheel chair.

Jesse leaned down so they could embrace like men who respected each other tend to do. Hands gripped and a side nudge that meant they were pleased to meet up.

“I checked your boy out. He’s a good one, Jesse. Jack Foster served two tours in Iraq, and not the easy missions either. This soldier won the Medal of Honor for bravery and he headed up some important missions. I mean, he stepped up, didn’t sit back letting others do the dirty work. His men liked and respected him. Too bad his latest injury seems to have dealt him a hard blow.”

“If he’s kidnapped Layla, I’ll deal him a hard blow.” Jesse clenched his fists, hope and fear warring inside like two antagonists both wanting to win.

“Let’s just see if he has her. Or if he’s hurt her. Then we can decide what happens next. One thing I can promise, from what I read in his file, this man has gone through hell.”

Jesse glared down at his friend riding beside him. He respected Phil, always had. From the days when they’d skateboarded as teens to when he’d visited his buddy in the V.A. Hospital after he’d retuned from active duty minus the ability to walk, Jesse had cared about and valued his friendship.

“Don’t talk to me about hell, Phil. Do you know what Layla’s mom has gone through? Belle’s just gotten on her feet after being ill for a long time and now she has this nightmare to deal with. I’m sorry but this takes precedence in my mind.”

“Sorry, Jesse. Of course, you’ve a reason to be pissed.”

“Darn right, I’m pissed. Look, Jack’s brother Terry was her husband. They lost him a couple of years ago. Now Jack seems to think she belongs to him. That she has to look after him. This sicko physically attacked her yesterday. I had to rip him off her. She was terrified. I’m talking to the point where her fear has forced her to move in with me.”

“Okay. I get it. The man’s unhinged. But you have to understand, Jesse. He’s just a lost soul. We can help him as long as he agrees to rehab.”

Not wanting to hear anymore, Jesse demanded. “What apartment is he in?” He moved in front of the wheel chair to the main entry, opened it and then hurried to push the elevator buttons.

“It’s suite three-zero-two.”

Once standing to the side of the door, jaw gritted and hands sore from being clenched, Jesse sent up a quick plea to those that watched over souls who needed heaven’s help.
Please!

Phil knocked. He grinned toward the peephole and waited. The chain stopped the door from fully opening. “What do you want?”

Phil answered, no hesitation at all. “Jack Foster? Hey man, came to pay a call and get you signed up with the Veterans association. Your file has finally gotten to the top of the pile.”

“Busy today. Can’t talk.” Jack’s uneasiness filtered through straight into Jesse’s worry.

“Sorry, dude. It’s important that we converse today. Can I come in?”

“No! I have chores. I’ll come and see you next week. Just leave your card.” Jack opened the door wide enough to thrust his hand out and that’s all Jesse needed. He gave a mighty shove and entered. The first room, dingy and overlooking a busy freeway, left a lot to be desired.

“Get out of here. You can’t come busting in like this.” Jack started toward him.

Jesse heard Phil try to calm the guy down while he pushed past, through another door and into a small bedroom. His heart beat hard, painfully hard, a rhythm that made him want to clutch it and squeeze.

God Please!
The words shrieked in his head and he had to clench his jaw to stop from letting the screams spew out his mouth.

The unmade twin-sized bed in the corner drew him but it lay empty. He spun around, searching every corner of the room hoping to see some hint that Layla was either here or had been.

Dammit! There was nothing.

Dragging his feet, Jesse stepped into the other room where Phil had Jack sitting at the kitchen table and obviously schmoozing him about joining the specialized VA group Phil headed up.

Jesse, a good judge of character when it came to men, held back and watched rather than rushing up to grab the guy and beat the living bejesus outta him the way his instincts encouraged.

As soon as Phil spotted Jesse hovering, he asked the necessary question, “So you haven’t seen your little niece today, have you Jack?”

“I already told you, no. And what the hell is
he
doing here?”

Phil ignored the question, plowing straight ahead. “Were you home all day?”

“Ahhh yeah! I haven’t left the apartment.”

Nervous-looking, maybe from his medical complications, Jack’s foot tapped as if in time to music only he heard. His uniform shirt and tie, newly ironed and spiffed up, looked quite presentable but it didn’t calm Jesse’s apprehension. In fact, it made it worse. Why did a man who swore he hadn’t left his apartment look so well dressed?

“If you’ve been home all day, why are you wearing your uniform?” Jesse cut into the conversation, his voice a lot harder than Phil’s. The tone upset the man being interrogated.

“I don’t have to answer to you guys. Get the hell outta my apartment.”

Now if Jack would have put some expression into the words, screamed them instead of speaking low, Jesse might have recognized innocence and justified anger but all this speech did was make the hairs on the back of his neck dance in dread.

Dammit all to hell, what was he missing. Something! But what?

Jesse checked his watch and knew he’d been away from Belle for more than an hour. If she were alone without anyone to keep her calm, she’d be a mess, even worse than her brother-in-law. Again, Jesse zeroed in on Jack.

Sensing the other’s edginess, knowing with everything in him that they were right about this man absconding with Layla, Jesse decided to take another approach.

“Belle is crying, Jack. Her heart’s about to burst from fear of what Layla could be suffering right now. The horrible mind-pictures of who could have stolen her baby are making her real sick. It’s ripping her to shreds and you know she hasn’t been well lately.” While delivering this speech, Jesse watched closely and saw the regret on Jack’s face as if he were wearing a huge neon sign on his forehead.

Guilt
and
regret!

Holy hell! The closet!
He spun around, ran into the bedroom and searched for the entrance. Jack’s frenzied holler followed him. “No! Don’t!”

Sure enough, there was Layla. Curled into a tiny ball on a fuzzy brown blanket, she lay with her eyes closed and her body limp.

Shaking, adrenaline pumping, scared out of his mind, Jesse knelt down and put his face next to the lips of the tiny sprite. He felt her breath and every prayer he’d been whispering turn into a moan of pure gratitude.

Jack and Phil had trailed him and were holding back while Jesse lifted her to his chest and cuddled the precious weight.

“She’s sleeping,” Jack moaned. “Don’t wake her up. Poor baby’s tired.”

“She’s not sleeping normally, Jack. What did you give her?”

Jesse couldn’t wring the jerk’s neck with Layla in his arms. Instead his eyes warned Phil to take over.

“Hey buddy, you have to tell us what you gave her. We need to know if she’s in danger, so we can help her.”

Jack’s stare swung from Phil to Jesse and then back again. “What are you talking about? It’s only a mild sleeping pill. I’d never hurt Layla. She’s Terry’s child.”

“Calm down, man. We didn’t mean anything.”

“Listen to me. I loved my brother and I love his family—my family.” By now, Jack had seemed to deflate. He sunk to the floor, wracked with tears. “I only wanted her and Belle to live with me. I needed them to keep the blackness away. Don’t you see? They’re the only ones who love me.”

Jesse’s anger deflated somewhat as his knees gave out, but not completely. It wasn’t easy seeing a man he’d normally want to respect sink so low but Jesse had to remember that this guy wasn’t well. Jack’s head was all screwy and he needed help, not hatred… and certainly not pity.

Phil slipped from his chair and sunk to the floor next to Jack, gathering him close. “Hey bud, let
me
help you instead. Belle and Layla need a healthy brother and uncle to welcome home and right now you need some medical and psychological attention to be that guy again.”

Jack’s hand squeezed his mouth and he rubbed hard as if trying to stop from speaking his thoughts out loud. Jesse knew he’d never forget his words and maybe one day, he could forgive the man for the nightmare of the last few hours.

“I was terrified to be alone. And Yaya still smiled at me. I’d made up my mind that either I spent time with her or I’d give up and give in to those incessant voices urging death as my best choice. I chose Yaya.”

Jesse backed away, cuddling Layla. Blanketed in brown fuzz and sleeping peacefully, she looked like a little angel. His heartfelt message of appreciation, obvious in the nod of his head and the mouthed ‘thank you’ he sent Phil’s way, covered his goodbyes.

Once in the truck, Layla snuggled in the back, strapped in as best Jesse could without a proper car-seat, he searched for his phone. Not finding it anywhere on his person, he realized he’d left it behind. It must have slipped out of his pocket when he leaned over to pick up the babe. For one split second, he thought to go back… and instantly knew he couldn’t. Getting Layla to her shattered mom took precedence right now to even breathing.

Chapter Nineteen

Belle didn’t know why Officer Todd asked her the same questions over and then over again. Some he’d repeat exactly and others he’d couched in different terms but Belle wasn’t stupid.

Scared and sick at heart, yes, but her faculties were kicking in with a clearness that surprised her. It was all about giving them the help they needed to find her Yaya.

“I’ve told you, she didn’t like being out of my sight. Especially in the stores where there were a lot of strangers. I have no idea why she would wander away.”

The uniformed officer who had been assigned to Belle’s case, a younger man with his shirt sleeves rolled up his tie pulled loose, ticked off something on the page in front of him. His desk, piled high on both sides with files and papers and coffee mugs stained from cold coffee, looked as if it hadn’t seen a duster or a wet cloth in months, if ever. But the man sitting behind it had a heart. If it hadn’t been for the softness around his smile, she’d have screamed her frustration and swiped the desk clean in the festering rage from her failure to keep Yaya safe.

“Her sweater was purple with a white pompom attached to the hood.”

“Before, you said it was a hoodie?”

Argrr!
“I said it was a hoodie, yes, because it was made in a hoodie style. But I knitted it for her from wool. So even though I used the hoodie pattern, it was also a sweater.” Belle felt like she was explaining the facts of life to a grown male who should know better. “Does this
matter
? You’ve asked me that already.”

“Sorry Mrs. Foster. We have to make sure and get every detail correct. I understand that you’re frustrated but know that while we’re here going over the details, there are officers all over the city of Seattle looking for Layla.”

Belle gripped her fingers yet again and ignored the aching knuckles and raw cuticles. “I’m sorry, Officer Todd. It’s just that she’s such a baby. I told you, she’s scared of men. If a strange man has taken her, she’ll be terrified. She’ll wet herself…”Bell, overcome once again, helped herself from the same box of tissues he’d passed her way numerous times already.

The door to the cell-like room opened and the same woman who had brought her here advanced with a sheaf of papers in her hand. The two officers held a whispered conference and the woman left the room, sending a commiserating smile Belle’s way.

“Sorry, Mrs. Foster. Look, don’t upset yourself with wild scenarios. Let’s continue with the questions. “You say she was born on February 7th, 2010?”

“Yes. She’s almost four.”

Officer Todd held one of the new files sheets. “Did she know her father? You told us he was killed in Iraq?”

“Yes, a week before her first birthday. No, she never knew him.”

“Do you have pictures of him around the house, maybe in a uniform?”

“Yes, there’s one in my bedroom. She likes to look at it and ask questions about her daddy.”