Chapter sixteen, Martin Present. Martin turned on his phone for the first time
since yesterday. He had turned it off because he was sick of his wife
nagging him, and Martin needed some time to himself. He had gone to
play golf yesterday and then wound up at the strip club, where he proceeded
to get hammered. He didn't make a habit of going to the strip club,
but last night he had. He had slept in his car and powered
down his phone. Lisa had wanted him to go out to dinner with one
of the women from her book club. Martin and Lisa never went out with
other couples, so Martin was surprised when she had asked him. Martin was
also surprised that Lisa was in a book club. They had gotten into a
huge argument, with Martin whining and complaining about how he didn't want to go.
Lisa had said she was lonely, that she needed some companionship and a
normal lifestyle where she and Martin went out with other couples. Martin didn't understand
why his wife was asking him for this now, when they had been perfectly
content for years just the two of them. Lisa had told him how she
missed Jessica, and how she missed going out into the world, and how
all she wanted was to go have dinner with these two people, Dan and
Leslie something or other To shut her up, Martin agreed. He told his
wife he would be home at five to get ready for dinner. When that
time came, instead of going home, he had pointed the car north to
the Tiger Tail Strip Club on Route eighty five, just outside of town,
and by five PM was breast deep in some latina's stripper's chest. By two
am, when he was unceremoniously kicked out by the ship for brains bouncer,
he was too drunk to drive, so Martin slept in his car in the
parking lot. It was not his proudest moment, but it sure beat the
hell out of going to dinner with some book club lady and her fag husband.
Now he is pulling up to his street. The phone has just powered
on begins chirping incessantly. God damn it, what he says, muttering under
his breath and shaking the phone in his hand as if that will cease its
noise. Probably his wife, nagging bitch, he thinks, scrolling through his
mist calls. He has twenty seven. Most are from Lisa, but a
few are from his daughter Jessica. That's weird, he says out loud.
She never calls me, probably because she hates me. Martin checks the voicemail
application on his phone. Eighteen voicemail messages from his wife, none from Jessica.
Martin understands why his daughter hates him. He sees a lot of him
himself and his daughter, and that is probably why he tried to stay far
away from her her whole life. He had no intention of hanging around her
and drying out those worst parts of him in her. Besides, she had
her mother, Lisa hovered over that child like a helicopter. Martin had worked
too much in the beginning. Then, after he pulled off one of the
largest hedge fund pump and dump schemes in history, started laundering money and sent
a crooked senator to jail, he was too busy beginning his life over starting
anew He had to pretend to go to work at an investment firm. He
had been banned from the securities industry for good, but his wife was too
stupid to know that. Every day he would go to work at a men's
suit retail store in Walton County. He would sell run of the mill suits
to guys who couldn't even make a quarter of the money he used to make.
It was a menial job, but he needed something to pay the bills.
Martin knew Jessica saw right through him. The older she got, the
more bitter she seemed to become. He had let her down so many times
he was usually surprised she still talked to him at all. When she looked
at her father, she saw a loser. Martin could see it in her
eyes. His delusional wife carried on with life as if nothing had ever happened,
but Jessica did not. The day Jessica graduated from high school was one
of the best days of Martin's life. This was not because he was proud
of her accomplishments, but because it meant she would soon be leaving the house
for good, and Martin wouldn't have to worry about her evil glances in his
direction, or her eye rolls and underhanded comments. With Jessica gone, Martin
could have some semblance of his life back. The only other time he saw
Jessica was when she graduated from college. Even then, it was only to
take her out to dinner and to watch her except her diploma. His wife
went to visit their daughter at college, but every time she would go,
Martin would beg off, making up some excuse or another as to why he
could not accompany her. He never had anything to do, He just didn't
want to go. His daughter hated him, and Martin didn't like people who
hated him. He tried to avoid those people at all costs. So this
is why Martin is surprised. Looking at his phone, he finds the fact
that Jessica is voluntarily trying to get in touch with him very odd. Her
mother probably put her up to it, he thinks, as he deletes the
voicemails without listening to them. Oh well, he thinks, stepping out of
the car, I'll call her back in a little while. Right now,
I have to endure the wrath of Lisa. He fully expects his wife to
blast him the second he walks through the door. Martin is going to get
an earfull from her, and he is not sure he's up to it.
He needs to eat something he ate at the buffet at the strip club last
night, but something didn't agree with him. Maybe his wife can make him
something, he thinks as he turns the key in the lock and hesitantly opens
the door. He hears nothing. He pokes his head into the hallway.
Still nothing. Maybe she's out, Martin thinks to himself. He says,
how did I get so lucky, and does a little skip into the kitchen.
Maybe he's off the hook this time. He whistles a salsa tune to
himself. Martin deposits the mail on the table and thumbs through the letters,
most of it junk mail. After a few minutes, he pulls out bread,
turkey, and mayo to make a sandwich. He is slapping together the
ingredients and is taking his first huge bite when he hears it, a muffled
cry and what sounds like a chair scraping against tile. Martin stops to listen,
the sandwich falling to the counter. He hears it again. It sounds
like someone is crying. Softly. Going around the corner into the hallway,
Martin determines the noises coming from the small hall closet next to the laundry room,
Lisa. He calls out, walking slowly toward the closet, He stops
as the muffled noises become louder. It sounds like there is someone in there.
The closet is tiny and used to store rain boots, cleaning supplies,
and other lesser needed gadgets. Martin can't remember the last time he went into
the closet. His wife is in charge of the cleaning. He calls out
her name again and places his hand on the doorknob. He wiggles the doorknob
and the muffled sounds intensify. Martin turns the doorknobs slowly, opening the door.
Or what he sees before him makes his heart hammer in his chest.
It is his daughter, Jessica, tied to one of the kitchen chairs.
Her hands are wrapped around her back, held together with zip ties. Her
ankles are also held together with duct tape. Over her mouth is another piece
of duct tape, and her eyes are wide with fear. She has peeded
herself. Martin can see the wet stain on her pants and can smell the
stale urine. Her hair is straggly around her face, and Jessica struggles against
her restraints, wiggling her body that causes the chair to scrape against the tile
floor. Martin yells, Oh my god, Jessica and kneels down to rip
the duct tape off of her mouth. Dad, Jessica yells, she is
crying now, tears falling down her face. She tries to get the words
out over her sobs. They got me, they tied me up. I
don't know where they went who, Martin asked, panicking, Who did this?
I don't know. Jessica is crying harder. They were speaking Spanish,
two guys. Martin inspects the zip ties on her wrists and ankles. He
may need more than scissors to undo them. Where is your mother, Martin
asked. I think she's dead. Oh my god, Martin says again,
Oh my god, are you hurt? Martin asked, inspecting Jessica's head and
arms. They punched me a couple times, but other than that, I'm
okay. Martin sees the beginning of a purple bruise forming by her left temple.
He touches it gingerly. Jessica yanks her head away in pain. We
have to get out of here, Dad, What are we going to do?
I don't know, honey, but I'll think of something. Martin looks
around for something to use to untie Jessica. When he hears the phone ringing
in the kitchen, stay right there, I'm going to call nine one one.
Martin heads out into the hallway, running to retrieve his phone. When
he rounds the corner into the kitchen and his heart drops. Standing in his
kitchen are two Latino men. One has on a black ski mask and one
a black bandana that covers his nose and his mouth. In the second man's
hand is a gun held down by his side. The minute he sees Martin,
he holds the gun up and begins yelling in Spanish. He motions to
the other man to grab him. Martin's stunned, holds both hands up to
the sky and whimpers, don't shoot. He yells, don't shoot. I'll
give you anything you want. The first man grabs Martin's arms, pulling them
behind his back. He then yanks his head back by his hair, turning
Martin around to face the hallway walk. The intruder says, shoving Martin into
the hall, they pass Jessica in the closet. Martin tries to turn his
head to look into the closet at her, but the man has such a
tight grip on his head that he can't move it. Martin stares straight ahead,
feeling the sharp grip of the man's hand against his scalp and around his
wrists. The second man follows them, still yelling in Spanish, gun trained
at Martin's back go The second man yells, finally speaking English with a heavy
accent. Martin is paraded out the back door and pushed down the cement steps.
He loses his balance, the man's hands coming loose, and Martin falls
to the ground in a heap. He tries to scramble to his feet,
but the man is too quick. He grabs Martin again and pushes him toward
the pool, pushing aside the outdoor patio table and chairs as he makes his
way towards the shallow end. Martin finally catches a glimpse of the pool and
sees the body of a woman floating near the deep end, faced down.
There is blood in the pool, swirling through the water and turning it a
pinkish red color. The blood is coming from a hole at the top of
the woman's head, her body already bloated from death. Martin recognizes his wife's
white linen pants and blouse and the gold Roluc's watch. He gave her a
long time ago, Lisa. He cries out and feels the biles start to
rise up in his throat as he begins to vomit. The first man shoves
Martin to his knees beside the pool and pushes his head into the water.
Martin's head is yanked back up. He splutters and gas for air, shaking
his head back and forth before it is plunged in again. This time,
the intruder leaves his head under the water for longer. Martin squirms, but
the man's grip is tight. When he is set up for air again,
he screams, what do you want? Martin is wretching and shivering, sucking
in droplets of water with every shallow breath he takes. You're dead now,
the man says, into his ear, his breath hot next to Martin's face.
You owe money to the senator that was years ago, Martin says.
The senator is in jail, he's out. The man pushes Martin's head down
until he is staring straight into the water, and we kill you now,
just like your wife. She was good to fuck and kill. He says
something in Spanish to the other man, and they both laugh. Wait.
Martin struggles against the man's grasp. The Senator is out of jail. How
did he find me? No more questions, the man barks. Lisa Walker
floats down to the shallow end, pulled along by the small waves he is
making throughout the pool. Martin can smell the dead flesh on her riding away.
He watches as she slowly floats, her stiff arms and legs sticking out
from her torso, the blood pulling around her head. Martin trembles as he
imagines that fate for himself. He is desperate and knows he must do something.
The next time the man pulls his head up out of the water,
he gurgles unintelligible words into his ear. Kay, the man yells, annoyed,
shut up. The man with the gun growls he has remained silent up
until this point. I have the money, Martin screams, wriggling around to
face the man who is holding him. He finds himself with the gun in
his face, the man holding it screaming in Spanish. The man with the
gun presses the barrel into Martin's cheek, and Martin screams, attempting to back
away, while still on his knees. I swear, Martin is crying,
now, gulping in air. I have your money. Tell us where it
is, the first man says, his eyes flashing interest. Mart and swallows,
the gun still pressing against his face. It's millions, but I don't
have it here. Where is it, the first man says, forcefully,
I have to take you to it. Martin said, his eyes pleading with
the men. It's not with me. It's with my daughter. Only she
can access it. But I have it, I swear. The first man
signals to the second man, who pulls the gun away from Martin's face slightly.
Get her, the man says, motioning for the second one to go
into the house to retrieve Jessica. He continues speaking in Spanish until the second
one understands and takes off for the back door to the house. No,
Martin calls out, stopping the second man in his tracks. No, not
her, not Jessica asa ace to eha, the second man yells, becoming
impatient. The first man translates, slamming the gun into Martin's face again,
isn't that your daughter? Martin looks up, Yes, it is. I
mean no, it is but she doesn't have your money. She is not
the one you're looking for. The men paused. Confused, Martin continues,
the one you want is my first daughter, Nicole, Chapter seventeen. Ryan
passed Nicole plodded along through the darkness, the bows in her hair bobbing up
and down. They walk through the woods, leaves crunching underfoot. Ryan offered
to carry the four year old the half mile to the convenience store, but
the little girl refused. She placed one tiny foot in front of the other,
her mouth set in a determined line, eyes focused straight ahead the bear
her father gave her swinging in her hand. Ryan and Nicole walked in silence,
the lights of Nichole's house slowly fading behind them. After a few minutes,
Ryan asked the little girl if she was scared. No, she stated,
matter of factly, I'm not. You're very brave, Ryan said,
glancing down at the little girl, whose hand was in his. The girl
shrugged, carefully sidestepping a muddy puddle. Well, Ryan continued, soon,
you'll be with a nice family, just for a little while. Is that
okay? The girl looked up at him and nodded. My mommy explained to
me all that. She told me I have to be brave and that I
would see mommy and Daddy again soon. That's right, Ryan said, squeezing
Nikole's hand. That's right. Ryan was carrying the little Duffel bag she had
brought with her over his shoulder. The bag was yellow and blue and had
a picture of Bell dancing with the Beast on its side. Beauty and the
Beast was written in cursive on the opposite side of the bag, with Disney's
trademark in a circle at the end. He slung the bag over his shoulder
and continued, Do you like Beauty and the Beast, Nicole, he asked.
The little girl looked up at him. Face grave Belle is my favorite
character. I love her yellow dress. Nicole's face was so somber, her
tone so serious that Ryan had to laugh. I like the Beast, he
admitted to her. The girl scrunched up her face and wrinkled her nose.
But he's so hairy, she said. Ryan only nodded in return and pointed
up to the lights of the convenience store ahead of them. See those lights,
he asked her. That's where we're going. We're almost there. Nicole
tightened her grip on his hand as she walked. When they reached the convenience
store, Ryan looked around for his colleague. Derek was supposed to drop off
another car for Ryan. Then Derek was to be picked up by Sam after
he collected Martin and Lisa. They switched cars and marshalls frequently in case of
a tail. Ryan didn't see him, so he asked Nicole if she wanted
a snack, ice cream, or cookies for the drive. Nicole asked if
they had carrots. What a funny little girl, Ryan thought, suppressing a
smile. If he had been offered cookies at four years old, he definitely
would have taken them. Ryan walked to the back of the convenience store where
the refrigerated food was kept. He spotted a snack pack of carrots. He
also grabbed a package of string cheese and an apple juice. He paid for
the food and handed it to Nicole. She thanked him. Who are we
waiting for? She asked, chewing thoughtfully on a baby carrot my friend,
Derek, Ryan responded, he's bringing us a car so we can drive you
to your new home. Nicole chewed, staring out the glass door of the
store. Soon, Ryan saw headlights swing around and flash into the convenience store
windows. Both he and Nicole put up their hands to block the glare.
Derek parked the car in the last parking spot and headed toward the store.
He wore all black clothing and a hood covered his head. Ryan thought this
was a good move on Derek's part, seeing as he was completely bald and
therefore memorable. Ryan ushered Nicole out of the store, where they met Derek
on the curb. They nodded to each other, and Derek clapped Ryan on
the back. Derek handed Ryan the keys to the black car. She's all
yours, he said, all gassed up too. Should be able to get
you to Tennessee before having to stop. Thanks, Ryan said, nervously,
hopping from one foot to the other. He still got excited and nervous with
these draw offs and exchanges. The adrenaline pumped through his veins like a jolt
every time. Nicole dropped his hand and stuck it out in front of her
toward Derek. Hi, I'm Nicole, she said, gazing up at him.
Derek Afrod, who is this kid? He said, nudging Ryan and
bending down to bounce on his haunches at Nicole's level. I'm Derek, he
said, shaking her hand. He stood up and looked at Ryan again.
Funny kid, cute too. Ryan ushered Nicole into the back seat, placing
her duffel bag and juice beside her with an arm's reach. Better get going,
he said to Derek, closing the back door of the car. They're
all ready for you, Derek said, expecting you good, Ryan responded,
opening the driver's side door. Sam will be here soon. Derek had taken
a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pocket and waved them in
the air, as if to say he'd be all right waiting. Ryan nodded
one more time and got behind the wheel. As he pulled out of the
parking lot, Derek gave one last wave. Ryan turned right onto the inner
State as the bright lights faded once again behind them. He looked back at
Nicole, who was staring out of the window. You okay, kiddo,
he asked her, thinking that it felt strange to call her kiddo when she
acted more like an adult than he was. Yes, she replied, taking
a sip of her juice through the white straw sticking out of the box.
How long until we get there? A long time? I want to try
to get some sleep. Ryan felt around on the passenger seat for the small
pillow and blanket that Derek had thrown in the car. Nicole accepted the pillow
and blanket, and, tucking her legs under herself Indian style, placed the
pillow on the armrest and dutifully closed her eyes. The bear had its own
seat next to Nicole, sitting upright, arms outstretched. Ryan was grateful he
couldn't see the bear from his bandage point behind the wheel. Ryan glanced back
to make sure she was okay, and turned the radio on to the lowest
volume. Simon and Garfuncle seemed appropriate for a little girl trying to sleep.
He thought. Sounds of Silence was about as close as he was going to
get to playing her a lullaby. He drove through the night, stopping at
an all night McDonald's for coffee, whispering loudly into the speaker at the drive
through so as not to wake her. The drive through girl who handed him
his coffee peered into the back seat, and, noticing Nicole sleeping there,
asked Ryan if she was his daughter. Ryan just thanked her for the coffee
and gave her an extra dollar as a tip. Nicole slept through the hours,
only stirring once or twice. One time. She talked in her sleep,
gibberish. Rine couldn't comprehend. Her eyelids fluttered as she dreamed, and
her little fists curled into balls, then released, over and over. Ryan
drove the speed limit, no less, no more. It was important in
these situations not to draw attention to one's self for any sort of offense.
Ryan considered himself a good driver in general, but when he was on the
job, he was perfect. He was alert and awake, anxious to get
nic Cold to the desired destination. He finally reached it a few states back.
The scenery had changed, trees and bushes became shrubs and cacti. The
weather had changed too. The cold, black night had given way to a
beautiful sunrise. The expansive desert allowed him the perfect view of the yellow and
gold, pink and purple sky that seemed to burst in front of him.
The sun shimmered on the horizon, not hot yet, but wavy and flaming,
as if to warn of its impending heat. It was still quiet in
those early morning hours, semi trucks his only companions on the road. Ryan
excitedly pushed the gas, hovering at one mile over the speed limit until he
released his foot again. When the exit sign came into view, Nicole yawned
and opened her eyes, sat up still in the dress from the night before.
Where are we, she asked, sleepily, rubbing her eyes. Almost
there, Ryan replied, turning the car onto the dirt road off the interstate.
Were almost there, he repeated. Nicole looked around her and placed her
tiny hands on the car window. Ryan adjusted the rear view mirror so he
could see her better. She watched the scenery go by, so vastly different
from where she had been more than twenty four hours ago. She crossed her
legs at the angles and a smile played at the corner of her mouth.
As he turned the car onto the last dirt road, surrounded by cacti and
shrubbery, Nicole pointed to a particularly large cactus, jabbing her finger against the
glass and exclaiming with one small ooh. Ryan smiled and pulled up in front
of the trailer. Before he could exit the car. The door to the
trailer swung wide open, and two people walked down the rickety wooden steps.
The woman wore a bandanna in her hair, her loose fitting white dress swirling
around her calves. Her blonde hair shone in the sun, and she was
barefoot. The man wore a Phoenix cardinal's baseball cap, jeans, and held
a rag in his hands. They stopped where the stairs ended and both looked
on expectantly, holding up hands to their foreheads to block out the sun.
They peered into the car excitedly. Ryan got out and walked around to the
back door of the her. He opened the door and helped Nicole out,
reaching around her and taking her duffel bag out as well. Nicole looked around
her for a minute and then faced the man and the woman standing by the
trailer. Both smiled back at her. Harry hung back at the foot of
the stairs, playing with the rag in his hands. He nervously wiped his
hands on his jeans and adjusted his baseball cap. He looked from his wife
to the little girl with the pink bows in her hair standing before them.
Hannah opened her arms wide and beaming, addressed Nicole. We've been waiting for
you, honey, she said. Welcome to Peach Springs.