Reid
Three hours. That’s how long it is until I’ll be sitting in front of cameras and completing a press conference from my loungeroom, pleading to those responsible for the disappearance of Morgan to let her come home. A lump forms in the back of my throat, causing me to swallow excessively in an attempt to dislodge it. A press conference isn’t going to work, so what’s the point of this?
Running my finger around the rim of the empty glass has my mind bogged down. How? Why? Where? When? I go over every memory I have from the moment Morgan left me that morning until now. How the fuck did this happen? Why is this happening to us? Where is she? When will I hold her again? Will I get to hold her again?
“Reid, honey. How are you doing?” Her hand rests on my shoulder, her tone low and nurturing.
“Kylee.” I shift in my seat until her eyes find mine.
“I’m sorry.” Her hand brushes my hair. “I know I’ve not been here for you … I … well, I’ve … It’s a shock, you know?”
I bob my head.
“I’m here now. We’re going to get through this; I promise we will.” Kylee’s eyes gleam with tears. Her chin quivers, but she smiles. A mother’s false smile. I’ve seen Morgan do this when concern is plaguing her, yet reassurance is necessary for the children.
“There’s nothing to worry about. Mumma’s here. I promise you everything will be okay.”
Morgan’s voice. I miss the sound of her voice.
“Morgan,” I call out. Her words are as clear as if she were standing beside me.
Kylee wraps her arms around my head and pulls me against her shirt. “I know. Shhh. I know.”
I don’t allow myself to shed a tear even though I want to rid myself of bucket loads. I don’t grant my panic a chance to consume me because it’s a pointless act. I’ve been there and done those things already. Last night, Maloney walked me through it; he got me to breathe again when it felt impossible to do so. Stay in control, Reid.
I squeeze my eyelids together tightly and pray for relief. I pray I won’t play horrible images in my head like a nightmare on repeat.
“Reid, it’s going to be okay. It will all be okay. I promise.” Kylee repeats this over and over. Her grip is tight. Her words echoing through her chest. Her heartbeat races in between them.
“Are you ready?” Ronald’s deep voice has Kylee pulling away. She runs her hand over the top of my head once more and then brushes my cheek with her fingertips.
“We’re family, Reid. Nobody gets left behind. We will find her.” And there’s that smile again. That fake-as-fuck smile. The one which shows she doesn’t believe this to be true; she just wills it to be.
“I know,” I mouth these words because sound doesn’t press them out.
“We’re going to see our grandbabies. Detective West said we can now, and John and Shirley are waiting. The kids are awake.”
Shit! John. I forgot to message him.
“I didn’t reply to John’s—”
“It’s okay. We’ve filled him in. He understands,” Ronald says this calmly.
What happened upstairs in Aleeha's bedroom to make them so focused and in control of the situation? Did they just need time to digest and process their shock?
“Hug them for me. Tell the kids I …” My throat strains, causing me to clear it. “Tell Brax and Aleeha—”
“We will.” Kylee’s eyes are soft, yet circled by black rings. Her hair is brushed, and her clothes are changed. She’s exhausted. Broken. Hurting. But living. One minute at a time. One hour at a time. One day at a time.
It’s how we will do this.
It’s how we will bring Morgan home.
“You're doing all you can, Reid. Don’t doubt yourself. Don’t think of the what ifs. Instead, turn to the right now, okay? Picture Morgan walking through the front door and she will.”
I nod.
“We’ll be back soon.”
“Okay.” It’s all I manage to reply.
Detective Dyson has a glint of pity in her eyes as she bobs her head just once in my direction. She has a computer bag slung from her shoulder and a set of car keys hanging from her finger. Lynette doesn’t say a word, nor does she glance back after she steps through the threshold of our home. Will I see her again? Or is her involvement now complete?
Gleaton is wearing jeans and a collared navy shirt when he arrives in a rush, entering the moment Dyson exits. “Reid.” He nods as he lays a folder on the kitchen counter I’m standing not far from.
I offer a half-hearted wave in response.
“One hour. I’ll be back in one hour. Constable Stratt is en route to the house; don’t let him leave before I get back.” West marches past Gleaton, leaving only those words behind in his haste. Prospect is hot on West’s heels.
I don’t have a chance to speak or ask questions before West is a flash of denim now gone. Why do I feel like I’m standing still, but the world is blurring and spinning around me?
“What’s going on?” I need answers.
Silence. Complete silence. Not even the hand on the clock recording the seconds can be heard.
“We’re doing our job. We’re going to find your wife.” Gleaton stands close to me when he finally answers. The smell of burning woodfire fills my nose. His cologne is strong. His expression is relaxed. His eyes are bright; he’s bushy-tailed. Did he sleep?
“Max.” I hear Gleaton say as he strolls towards the lounge room.
“He’s asleep on the chair.”
“Good. Max will need it. He’s stationed with you until the end.” Gleaton peeks at a thick gold watch secured to his wrist, and then to the mobile phone cupped in his hand. “Coffee, Reid?”
“Nope.” The thought of food or drink turns my stomach. Why is Max with me until the end? And when will this end?
“Can I see my children? I miss them.” Surely, I'm free to come and go as I please now I've been cleared.
“Sure, but if I were you, I'd keep time away to short intervals given the threats our caller has made and the fact he seems unstable. Twenty minutes, maybe?"
I'm shocked.
"Take your mobile phone, okay?"
I jump forward. I’m not sure why—maybe because I never expected Gleaton to say yes. “Really?” Did I just hear him right?
Gleaton nods when he says, “Twenty minutes, okay?"
“What if another call comes in?”
The corner of his lips lifts upwards. “The trace is in place. All calls will record immediately, and when they come through the landline, we can divert them to your mobile. A short visit is fine; your kids need to see their dad.”
My mouth drops wide as a glimpse of relief sears through my veins. “When did that happen? You said it could take longer?”
“West just sent confirmation.”
“Thank God.”
The grass cushions my feet, making it seem as if I’m hopping between clusters of clouds. I’m weightless. I don’t knock. I don’t speak. I fling the door open and run until I see the lounge area.
“Daddy, Daddy.”
My sweet Aleeha’s voice is music to my ears. She leaps from a bean bag chair and bounds toward me. Her face is filled with happiness at first glance, but as she closes in her sadness is obvious.
“Is Mummy home?” she questions as I kneel, and she collides with my chest. I hug her with every bit of strength my arms have.
“No, sweetheart, not yet. Soon,” I whisper against her cheek.
“I want Mummy. Can we go and get her from ...” She pauses. “Daddy, where is my mummy?” Her beautiful eyes search mine.
“Grandma and Grandad are here. That’s exciting, right?” My question is delivered with the hope of a needed distraction.
Her bottom lip sinks. “I want Mummy.”
“I know you do. Soon, baby girl. Soon.” The skin on her arms is soft as I rub my hands up and down them. Her cheeks look stained from what I assume is dried tears, and her cheeks are reddened.
“Can Brax and me, can we come home now, Daddy?” Her voice is sweet, as sweet as the familiar strawberry smell of her detangling hairspray filling the room. She must have taken it with her.
I sigh. I wish they could.
“Brax is outside with his grandad. They’re passing and kicking the football.” Shirley is standing behind Aleeha when I look up. Her hair rollers are still in, even though she’s dressed in one of her flowery day dresses.
“Is he okay?”
“No. Brax isn't up for talking, but he’s hanging in there.”
I nod.
“Come here, muffin.” Lifting Aleeha to my hip has contentment holding my heart. Her little chin tucks around my neck. Her long drawn-out breaths provide warmth to my skin. “Let’s go see Brax.”
Aleeha nods against me.
Standing on the back porch, I spot Brax in his bright yellow football jersey immediately. His right leg swings back and connects with the ball. The loud thump that accompanies his kick causes me to smile. “Brax,” I call. He doesn’t look in my direction or acknowledge I’m standing there. My smile disappears as I sigh.
Kylee sits on a lawn chair with her eyes turned upwards. A flying football sails in the direction of Ronald. It’s a peaceful and serene morning. For me, though, hell hovers. It hangs like a storm about to smother the earth with strikes of electricity.
“Brax, Dad’s here.” Kylee stands from the chair.
“Brax,” I call. He doesn’t follow my voice to find me. Instead, he keeps his head turned away.
Aleeha drops from my hip to her feet, nestling close against my side. I keep my arm wrapped around her as if she might get swallowed whole if I don’t.
“Mate. I’m here.” I try again to gain Brax’s attention.
I don’t. He catches the football Ronald kicked high, then drags his feet in the opposite direction to me until he stands to face the farthest fence.
“Give him time.” John’s deep voice comes from behind me. “He’ll be okay.” I feel his hand on my shoulder.
“Yeah.” I sigh.
“Daddy, I missed you last night,” Aleeha whispers.
“I missed you, too. Soon we’ll all be home together, just the four of us, how it should be.” I crouch so I can press my lips to her delicate cheek, leaving a tender kiss. I can only imagine what this must be like for them as children.
“Daddy?”
“Yes.” I watch as Aleeha’s narrow eyes widen.
“Shirley let us have choc-chip pancakes for breakfast.” A cheeky grin washes over her lightly freckled face.
“You’re fortunate,” I reply, searching for Brax. He’s back to where he was before I showed up and interrupted his game with my presence. Brax is angry and he wants to show me how much by his actions. I just wish he’d talk to me.
“I added the chips into the pancake mixture. I ate a handful of them. Shirley said it’s okay to eat chocolate for breakfast because you’re allowed to do that when you’re staying at someone’s house and not at home. You’re allowed to, aren’t you, Dad?”
I wish he’d talk to me.
“Aren’t you, Dad?”
“Sorry. What did you say?” I turn my attention back to Aleeha.
“Shirley said it’s okay to eat a handful of chocolate chips for breakfast because you’re allowed to do that when you’re staying at someone’s house and not at home. You’re allowed to, aren’t you, Dad?” Her head drops toward the ground, so I take my finger and gently lift her chin so our eyes connect.
“Of course you’re allowed to, and when Mummy gets home, we can make these wonderful choc-chip pancakes for her. She’ll love them.” I get closer to her face until our noses touch. “Guess what?”
“What?” she says, quietly.
“I think it’ll be okay for you to eat two handfuls of choc chips for breakfast.”
Her smile beams and a glimmer of happiness fills her expression. “Okay, Daddy.”
“Aleeha,” Kylee calls out to her.
“Yes, Grandma?”
“Can you come here, sweetheart? I want to show Grandad just how tall you are beside me now.”
And just like that, Aleeha leaves my side.
Sitting on the porch has me scanning the clean-cut backyard. The gardens are in full bloom. The freshly painted rustic green gazebo, the one I helped John do a few weeks ago, looks as good as it did the day we painted it. I wish I could go back to three weeks ago and see what I see now. Morgan and I were having troubles, and if we’d just taken some time away together, we could have found a way to work it out. Maybe she wouldn’t have stayed back at work. Perhaps she wouldn’t have been taken.
“Reid, can we talk?”
I crook my neck to be met by Shirley’s kind eyes.
“Sure.”
“Inside will be best.”
“Okay.”
John passes the both of us on the way in, a mug extended from his hand. “Coffee for Ronald,” he says in passing.
“We’ll be outside soon,” Shirley says to John, even though he’s no longer in view.
As Shirley sits at the small square table situated just off the kitchen, I take a moment to scan the room. Everything is still the same as it was the last time I was here. Figurines, photographs, and knick-knacks fill the shelving on the wall. The large gold-framed wedding picture of John and Shirley some thirty years ago hangs on the wall.
“Reid, what are the police doing over there? This situation is getting too much now. Do they know anything?”
I sigh as I take a seat across from Shirley and drop my head.
Vibration. There are lots of vibrations against my leg.
I forgot to turn my phone’s volume back on.
“Hang on.” I reach into my pocket, retrieving my mobile.
Private Number flashes across the screen.
“Oh shit. Shirley, say nothing. It could be …” I can’t even say it out loud, mainly because I’m fearful, and because Shirley’s expression fills with worry.
“Hello.” I hold my breath.
“You’re not where you’re supposed to be.”
“I am.”
“No. You’re not.”
“Please. Don’t hurt Morgan. I’m going home now.”
“Smoke and mirrors. Illusion. What can be seen is never unseen, but what you don't see is the clue. Do you even know what’s under your nose, Reid? Am I visible? Or am I not?”
“I don’t understand.” My blood whizz’s through my head before it constricts my heart.
“The day my hand shakes yours, and it will, just know that it hurt Morgan. Tarnished her and marked her. That it was the last to ever touch her skin. Not yours. Mine. My hands will be responsible for extinguishing her soul and I will walk beside you one day. Until then, enjoy the nightmares.”
The line goes dead.
“Oh fuck. Shirley, I have to go.”