Lex

“You did what? I screeched.

She raised her hands in defense and began to explain. “Lex, you’re young and impressionable. You need someone to look after you that has your best interest at heart. That person isn’t--”

“It obviously isn’t you,” I barked. “I can’t believe you went and talked to him.”

For once in my life I was attracted to someone who didn’t seem like a controlling prick, and she was determined to sabotage the relationship before it got started. I felt like my legs had been knocked out from underneath me.

“Settle down,” she said. “Just hear me out.”

I glared at her, still in disbelief that she had done what she had done. “Young? Impressionable? I’m not thirteen, don’t treat me like I am. You didn’t say anything shitty, did you?”

“I just told him to leave you alone.”

“Leave me alone? That’s your call to make? You’re deciding who I can and can’t see now?”

“So, you’re seeing him?” She tossed her purse on the floor and crossed her arms. “Have you two--”

“Anything that we’ve done, are doing, or plan to do is none of your business, mother.”

“I’m sure he’s good for someone, but that someone isn’t you,” she said, lowering her tone. “You need to be able to see that.”

I couldn’t believe it. Eight o’clock in the morning and my day was going to shit. She had no right to talk to Adam. My guess was that she did it because she was jealous.

I cocked my hip and shot her a look. “What? Did you go talk to him because you’re jealous? Because you want him to want you?”

Her eyes shot wide. “Are you kidding me?”

“No. I’m not. I’m serious.”

“He’s a tattooed meathead that--”

“He wasn’t a tattooed meathead when he was here a few weeks ago. You were going on and on about him. He’s so nice. He’s so handsome. You’re a hypocrite. You’re going to apologize to him.”

“No, I won’t.”

“I’ll leave. I swear. If you get between us, I’ll leave.”

“You don’t have anywhere to go,” she coughed.

“Try me,” I said. “I mean it. Apologize to him, and don’t put your nose in my relationship business again.”

“Lex. Seriously,” she pleaded. “This is textbook stuff. You’re attaching yourself to him because he saved you from those--”

“Jesus, mother. Really? Do you have that little faith in me?” I flopped down on the couch and buried my face in my hands. After a few deep breaths, I continued. “I haven’t attached myself to him. I find him attractive because he’s nice, and he treats me like he cares about me. It has nothing to do with him saving me.”

“He doesn’t care about you,” she said.

“And you know this how? You don’t even know him. You were neighbors. You weren’t even friends. And you hadn’t seen him for ten years when you went and asked him to find me. Think about it, mother. You asked him to find me, and he did. Why? Because he’s nice. Would some asshole do what he did? I don’t think so.”

She sighed and sat down beside me. “I just don’t think he’s--”

“Have some faith in me, and give him a chance. But don’t wreck something that has the potential of being good for me.”

She looked at me. “Do you really like him?”

I nodded. “I do.”

“And you don’t think he’s just doing this to, you know. To--”

“To get in my pants?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “For sex.”

“No,” I said adamantly. “I don’t.”

She gazed down at the floor and let out a sigh. After a long pause, she looked up. “Okay.”

“So, you’ll apologize?”

“If you want me to.”

“I do.”

“Okay. I suppose I’ll have to, then.”

“Thank you.”

I wondered exactly what she said, and how Adam felt about it. Hopefully he’d accept her apology and we’d move on as if it never happened.

I turned to her with every intention of telling her how I felt about him, and when I did, the doorbell rang.

“That’s probably him,” I said.

She stood. “I doubt it.”

She walked to the door, peered through the peephole, and then looked at me.

“Who is it?” I asked.

She shrugged and pulled the door open.

“Good morning, Miss Hart. I’m detective Watson with the San Diego County Sheriff’s Department. How are you doing today?”

My stomach knotted into a ball.

“I’m uhhm. I’m good. Is there something wrong?”

“Wrong? No, there’s nothing wrong. I’ve just got a few questions,” he said. “Trying to close a case. Have you got a minute?”

Oh shit.

I hoped this day would never come. I wanted to go somewhere and hide, but there was nowhere I could go that he wouldn’t be able to see me. I buried my face in my hands and hoped she’d somehow convince him to leave.

“Uhhm. Sure. What can I do for you?”

“May I come in?”

No. Don’t let him…

“Sure.”

He stepped into the living room and immediately made eye contact with me. He was muscular, and had short hair like many of the Marines in town. “Hi. I’m detective Watson.”

I nodded. “Hi.”

He turned toward my mother. “You filed a missing person’s report about your daughter, Alexandra. She was abducted at the 7-Eleven, and…”

“She turned up,” she said. “She’s right there.”

He didn’t act surprised. He simply glanced at me, nodded, and then looked at my mother. “I suspected that might be the case.”

“Okay. Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked.

“Well. As you may imagine, I’ve got some questions about her disappearance, and about her reappearance, for that matter.”

He looked at me. “Have you got a few minutes to answer some simple questions?”

“Do I have to?”

He shrugged. “You sure don’t. But, if you don’t, I may have to draw something up for interfering with a murder investigation. Then, I’ll have to arrest you, take you in, and you’ll be forced to answer questions in an interview, or in a court of law. I’ll let you think about that for a minute.”

“Murder!” My mother gasped.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Murder.”

“What do you want to know?” I asked.

“Everything,” he said. “Who abducted you? Where’d they take you? How’d you get free? How’d you get home? I need descriptions of the abductors, and of any and all events that transpired during your time in captivity.”

He looked at my mother. “And, Miss Hart, I have a few for you as well.”

She returned a worried look. “Like what?”

“Why didn’t you report that your daughter had been found?”

“Some guys in a truck took me,” I blurted, hoping to get him to shift his focus to me.

He turned toward me and pulled a notepad from his back pocket.

“They blindfolded me, and took me somewhere, but I don’t know where. They kept me and some other girls locked in a room. Then, one night, the door opened, and they blindfolded us and led us outside. The next thing I knew, we were on the back of a bunch of motorcycles leaving. It was weird, really.”

As I spoke, he scribbled notes onto the pad. When I stopped, he looked up. “That’s it? That’s your story?”

“Uh huh.”

He lowered the notepad and stared. “You were gone for what? A week?”

I nodded. “Yeah, probably.”

“And that’s your entire story?”

“Yep.”

“So, let me get this straight. Blindfolded, driven somewhere, and then taken in a room. Kept captive in the dark. Then, blindfolded, loaded on the back of a motorcycle, and hauled out?”

I nodded. “That’s pretty much it.”

“Get a look at any of the men who abducted you?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“None of them?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Not once?”

“Nope.”

“When they opened the door and handed you the blindfolds, you weren’t able to see what they looked like?”

“There weren’t any lights in the room or in the hallway.”

It was true. There weren’t. If he was there, he’d have noticed for sure.

“When they fed you?” he asked.

“Dark.”

“And then, blindfolded and loaded onto what? Motorcycles?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

He chuckled. “With blindfolds on?”

“Yep.”

“And taken where?”

“I don’t know. We were taken to a van, loaded into it, and driven home.”

He shook his head. “Let me guess. Blindfolded?”

“Yeah. Weird, huh?”

“Would you recognize their voices?”

I shook my head. “I doubt it.”

“Let me ask you this. When you left. When you were led away to the motorcycles. Was there anyone else in the house other than the bikers that hauled you out?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I was blindfolded.”

“Right. The blindfolds. Did you by chance keep the blindfold?”

“No,” I said. “I threw it away. Have you talked to any of the other girls?”

He put the notepad in his pocket. “I’m not at liberty to say. It’s an ongoing investigation.”

I could tell by the look on his face that he had, and that he was frustrated with all of us. The story was simple, and we’d rehearsed it several times. I suspected the other girls said the exact same thing.

We didn’t hear anything. We didn’t see anything. It was that simple.

“When you were at the 7-Eleven getting gas, you weren’t blindfolded, were you?”

I laughed. “No.”

“So, from the time they grabbed you until the time they blindfolded you, you were able to see them, were you not?”

“I was.”

“Can you give a description?”

“Sorry,” I said. “Everything happened so fast.”

“Bald, blonde, shaggy hair, crewcut, short, tall, tattoos, Hispanic, African American, White--”

“It was a big blur.” I shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

“Appreciate your time, Alexandra.” He nodded and then looked at my mother. “I’ll be in touch if I need anything else.”

She followed him to the door and shut it behind him after he left. As she turned the lock, I slumped into the couch cushion.

“Jesus. That was nerve-racking.”

“Do you think he believed you?”

“No. I’m sure he didn’t. But there’s us, the girls who were there, and them, the guys who saved us. We’ve all got the same story. The rest of the people involved are dead. He can wonder all he wants, but he’s never going to find out the truth.”

If he did, we were all screwed.