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Broom and Gloom: Squeaky Clean Mysteries, Book 9 Page 16
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I noticed some strange looks as I stepped out into the hallway. They must have seen me snoozing in class. Not very professional on my end, but I couldn’t do anything about it now.
Someone inched up beside me. “What happened to you?”
Evie. She stared at my face. Did I have lines on it from where I’d leaned against my spiral notebook? That would just be lovely.
“I fell asleep,” I muttered.
“I can tell.”
“I had a long night.”
“Gabby, you need to go to the bathroom.”
“No, I think I’m fine.”
She stopped me, a no-nonsense look in her eyes. “No, really. You need to go look in the mirror.”
My goodness, I must really look bad. I shrugged and veered from the hallway into the women’s restroom. A couple of women snickered as they passed me, and a feeling of dread crept into my psyche.
As soon as I saw myself in the mirror, I knew exactly what everyone was gawking at.
Someone had drawn a curlicue mustache on my upper lip.
“What?”
Evie frowned. “I think this is where I’m supposed to say something compassionate that makes you feel better.”
“Why would someone do this?” I continued, rubbing in vain at my new marker-mustache accessory.
“I told you there had been rumors.”
“About me and Dr. Stone?” I realized my voice was climbing and immediately lowered my volume before I drew a crowd. “Nothing happened!”
“I know that, but everyone else doesn’t. People get bitter over stuff like this. People who’ve gone to Harvard and feel like others get jobs over them because of how far you’re willing to go with someone higher up.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” I grabbed a paper towel, wet it, and began to scrub my face. “Great. This is permanent marker.”
“It sure is.”
I sighed and turned to Evie. “What am I going to do?”
“I’d suggest keeping your head up, going to your room, doing whatever you can to clean up, and then going back to class. Show everyone that what they think about you doesn’t matter. You know the truth. Isn’t that what we believe? That the truth will prevail?”
“That’s what I like to believe. It’s not always reality, however.”
“You’ve got this.” She paused. “That was kind of motivational and sympathetic, right?”
I let out a half sigh, half smile and nodded. I wished Evie’s lack of social skills was my biggest concern at the moment.
But it wasn’t. Not by a long shot.
I wished I felt as certain as she did.
***
I did exactly what Evie had advised. I could still see the faint outline of the mustache, and now my face was also red and raw from scrubbing. It was all just . . . peachy.
But I refused to let anyone know just how upset I felt about the whole incident. I kept my chin up and made sure I volunteered first to answer questions in the remaining sessions.
I did steal out of class early, and I escaped back to my room to make a phone call. While in one of the main sessions on DNA testing, I’d searched missing person reports for the past eight years. I hit the jackpot when I found a picture of a woman from Georgia named Georgia Clements who disappeared ten years ago. She looked like the same Georgia I was looking for.
I sat at the little walnut desk in my bedroom, and after a quick Internet search, I had the family’s phone number. I knew I had to handle this situation very delicately, and I prayed that I’d have the right words. Tact wasn’t always my strong suit.
I braced my elbows on the desktop and propped the phone to my ear as I listened to the call go through. A man answered on the fourth ring.
“I’m looking for Mr. Clements,” I started.
“Speaking.”
“Mr. Clements, my name is Gabby St. Claire. I’m investigating a case out here in Oklahoma, and I came across the information about your daughter, Georgia.”
“Georgia? Did you find her?” His voice turned urgent.
My heart lurched. I couldn’t tell the man that I suspected that his daughter might be a psycho. “I’m not sure. I don’t want to get your hopes up. But I wondered if I could ask you a few questions.”
“Of course. If it might help me find Georgia. Everyone else has given up on finding her. But not me and my wife. We still hold on to the hope that we’ll see her again one day.”
I swallowed hard, looking away from my reflection in the mirror in front of me. I feared I might see the hollow eyes of someone who understood his loss. Having a brother who was kidnapped when we were children had made a permanent stain on my life, even now that he was found. I’d never forget how difficult those days were. I’d never forget the questions that had haunted me through many sleepless nights.
I kept my voice soft. “I know this is difficult, but could you tell me a little bit about her? It was ten years ago, and I wasn’t able to find as much on the Internet about her disappearance as I’d hoped.”
“Things weren’t as viral back then as they are today, I suppose. What do you want to know?”
“Is it true that the last time you saw her, she was sixteen?”
“That’s right.” His voice caught. “She’d gotten in with the wrong crowd. She was doing some drugs and partying a lot. We felt like we were losing our little girl. We tried to tighten our boundaries—we gave her more rules, hoping that would reel her in. It seemed to do the opposite. She pushed even harder.”
I heard the grief in his voice, and my heart panged with compassion. “If this is too difficult for you—”
“No, I can do this.” He cleared his throat. “My wife and I woke up on the morning of March 9. We didn’t hear Georgia stirring, but that wasn’t unusual. We had to drag her out of bed for school every morning. We went into her room, but she was gone. Her bed was made. Clothes were missing.”
I closed my eyes, understanding the horrible feeling he’d experienced that day. “Did you think she was abducted?”
“No, I felt rather certain she’d run away. It fit with the train wreck we feared might be coming.” His voice trailed, and it was obvious the years hadn’t diminished his pain.
“What did you do?”
“First, we called her. Our messages went straight to voice mail. Then we called her friends. They claimed to know nothing. When she wasn’t home by dinner, we called the police. They did their best to find her, but she seemed to disappear without a trace.”
I opened my eyes again and tapped the hotel pen against the pad of paper left there as a courtesy by the housecleaning staff. “There were no leads?”
“No leads. There were a couple of people who thought they’d sighted her at a bus stop in Atlanta, another one in a grocery store near Nashville. But there was nothing firm. Georgia was like that. She was sneaky. She knew when to be quiet and blend in. She also knew how to be the life of the party.”
“That must have been extremely difficult.”
He let out a long, shaky breath. “It was. I feared she may have gotten involved in prostitution or drug running or any of those crazy things kids do trying to support themselves. They think making it on their own is so easy. But the cold, hard reality is that life is difficult, especially when you try to do it alone.”
“Just curious—what did Georgia want to do with her life? Was there any particular career she wanted?”
“She wanted to be a hairstylist.”
CHAPTER 22
I couldn’t stop thinking about my conversation with Mr. Clements. This had to be the same Georgia. Before I’d gotten off the phone with him, I’d told him that I was looking at someone who fit Georgia’s description. I also told him my lead was out of Lawton, Oklahoma, and promised to give him any updates. I already dreaded that potential phone call, though. Was it better not to know the truth when the truth was devastating and painful?
My own brother had been missing for years, so I had to say the
answer was no. It was better to know and deal with it than to always wonder. That didn’t make my job any easier, though.
I stood, stretched my legs, and then decided to grab a bite to eat. Maybe while having dinner I could figure out my next move. Sometimes time offered the best answers.
As soon as I stepped out of my room, I ran into Evie.
“I was coming to check on you,” she said. “What are you doing tonight?"
I shrugged. “Not sure.”
“Come eat with me. The conference is almost over, and then I can go back to being antisocial. In the meantime, I think you could use a listening ear as well.”
A listening ear did sound great, especially from someone with credentials like Evie. She was esteemed and intelligent. Strange and awkward. Dark and mysterious.
“Let me guess—you want to go to the cave place again?”
“It’s quickly become one of my favorites. Besides, we can walk there. I’d rather not fight this traffic in my car.”
“Why not?” I pulled my purse up higher. “Ready to go now?”
“Sure thing. We’ll get there before the crowds.”
We started walking down the plush hall together, and I filled her in on my conversation with Georgia’s dad.
We stepped outside, and the day was briskly cool. I couldn’t get used to the wind in the area. It seemed to cut through right to the bone.
The sidewalks were full with people just getting off work. The sun was low in the sky, casting an amber glow over the tops of the buildings.
It was hard to believe that in a couple of days I would leave Oklahoma and head back to Norfolk. For the first time since I had arrived, I was looking forward to the changes that would await me once I arrived back in Virginia. I could sense changes were coming—good changes. I was ready to do what was necessary to walk forward in faith. God had led me to the place where I was right now, and He certainly wasn’t going to leave me now.
Life was always changing, always fluid. I was ready to navigate my way downstream.
On the corner, I spotted the homeless-looking man preaching again. I wanted to turn and walk the other way, but I didn’t. His eerie words to me earlier continued to echo in my head. She’s watching you. Danger lurks close.
He was just crazy. That was all there was to it.
“Someone’s watching.” He turned to me, his eyes as wide and crazy as ever.
Evie took my arm and tried to steer me away. But the man wouldn’t be deterred.
“No one knows the day or the hour. Keep your eyes open to the evil around you.”
His words caused a chill to start at my heart and work its way outward, cracking with each frosty expansion.
Crazy. He was just crazy. He had no idea what he was talking about.
“You!” he said with a raspy conviction that made me pause.
I knew he was talking about me.
I turned and glanced at him, despite the fact that Evie tried to tug me away. “Yes?”
“You’re being watched.”
“By whom?”
He turned down the street and pointed. A brunette hurried away, looking back before quickening her steps.
Georgia?
“Come on!” I grabbed Evie, and we started running toward the woman.
As soon as we spotted her, the woman took off in a run.
“What are we doing?” Evie shouted.
“That’s the crazy lady I’ve been looking for. I can’t lose her!”
At the curb, the light turned green and cars cascaded from the side street. We stopped in our tracks. My muscles tightened as I watched the woman flee in the distance.
“Forget this,” I muttered. I darted into traffic, dodging cars. A truck slammed on brakes, and the driver shouted something out the window at me.
“What are you doing?”
I looked behind me and saw that Evie had followed. “I can’t let her get away. I just can’t.”
All those times when I’d felt like someone was watching me, and someone actually had been watching me.
I reached the sidewalk and pushed through the crowd waiting at the crosswalk for its signal to go. Several people gave me dirty looks, some looked like I was crazy, others had no idea what was going on because they were staring at their phones and oblivious.
Evie kept up with me as my feet pounded the pavement. I wasn’t a fast runner, but I was gaining ground on Georgia. Every time she glanced over her shoulder at me, she temporarily slowed only to sprint again.
She veered off the sidewalk and climbed into a sedan. A feeling of defeat started to grow in my gut.
On foot, I had a fighting chance. But there was no way I could get my car in time to continue tracking her. By the time I got to the garage, Georgia would be long gone. Short of throwing myself on top of the car hood, there was little I could do to stop her.
A surge of frustration rose in me, and I wanted to kick something.
As the car squealed away from the curb, the driver cast a glance at me. I swung my fist in the air in frustration.
“What now?” Evie asked, panting for breath.
“I wish I knew.”
Just then, another car pulled up to the sidewalk. “You guys need a ride?”
I stared at the face of Sherman. Evie and I glanced at each other.
“How fortuitous,” she muttered.
Without wasting any more time, we hopped in the back of his twenty-year-old luxury sedan, also known as a boat on wheels.
“Follow that red sedan!” I told him, pointing straight ahead. Thankfully, I could still see it, but I wasn’t sure for how much longer that would be true.
I had to give Sherman credit—he put the pedal to the metal and took off down the busy downtown street. The light ahead of us turned yellow.
Please don’t slow down, I pleaded silently.
To my delight, he accelerated. To my relief, no one got hurt in the process. Thank God.
The red car turned to the right at the next block. We had to gain some time and distance here. But in the middle of rush hour, it was difficult. There were too many pedestrians, too much traffic. It made no sense if we hurt someone else on our way to rescue another person.
But my adrenaline was pumping through my blood, and I was so close to answers, I could practically taste them.
“What were you doing? You just happened to be driving past?” Evie asked, clinging to the bench seat in front of her.
“Just taking an evening drive.” He glanced at Evie and flinched. “What? There’s nothing weird about that.”
“Whatever.” She shrugged.
My eyes were fixated on the light ahead. It turned red, and there were two cars in front of us. Anxiety built in me. I was so close. So close.
Was she going to slip away now?
“Breathe. Just breathe, Gabby,” Evie said.
I shook my head. “I just can’t believe this. I feel so helpless.”
I tapped my foot impatiently, digging my hands into the vinyl upholstery of the seat.
The light turned green, and the cars in front us couldn’t move fast enough. “Go, go, go!”
Finally, we surged forward. I blinked in surprise when I saw the red sedan stopped at the next light. There was hope!
Just as we got closer, the light turned. The road led out of downtown and onto a highway headed south, toward Lawton.
I had to admit—Sherman surprised me. He was pretty good at the whole car chase thing.
I thought Evie was impressed by it. She seemed to have a new respect in her eyes as Sherman wove in and out of traffic, trying to keep up with the red sedan.
“Do we want her to know we’re following her? Or are we trying to be more subtle?” he asked.
I chewed on the thought for a minute. “Subtle,” I decided. I needed to see where she was going.
Thirty minutes later, we still stayed behind her. Did she not realize that we’d gotten in the sedan and followed her? There was a chance she’d missed that. I mean, who
would be able to anticipate such great timing? I couldn’t have planned it better if I’d tried.
Around us, the landscape grew barren. The sun set in the distance, smearing orange and pink across the sky. It would have been a breathtaking scene if we weren’t in pursuit of a dangerous, psychotic criminal.
“Where is she going?”
“Toward the Wichita Mountains, it looks like,” Sherman said.
“There are mountains out here? I need to study my geography more.” I’d always pictured Oklahoma as flat. Maybe that was because I’d watched the movie Oklahoma too many times.
“The Wichita range is beautiful and made of red-and-black igneous rocks, light-colored sedimentary rocks, and boulder conglomerates,” Sherman said. “It’s also dangerous and rugged. They aren’t my favorite roads to be driving on at night.”
The tension in my shoulders pulled harder. What exactly was going on here?
Sure enough, in the distance, the ground rose. Mountains. I sucked in a deep breath at the beauty of it all.
“So, who is this person we’re following?” Sherman asked as we settled into a subtle pace.
“I think she may have abducted someone,” I said.
His eyes widened, and he pushed his glasses up on his nose. “I see. I’ve always wanted to do field work. Mostly, I’m stuck behind a computer.”
“I prefer field work,” Evie said. “Not because it allows me to interact with people, but because being inside all day makes me feel suffocated.”
Sherman glanced in the rearview mirror. “How about you?”
“I prefer working period,” I mumbled.
“What?”
I shook my head, not in the mood to explain. “Never mind.”
We rounded a bend in the road, and suddenly the red sedan was gone. The highway was empty in front of us.
“What?” Sherman muttered.
“The car couldn’t have just disappeared,” Evie said.
“So where did she go?” I asked, leaning forward.
“Uh, guys . . .” Sherman said, just as the car lurched. “We have bigger problems.”
“What’s that?" Evie asked.
“We’re almost out of gas.”