Chapter 12
She didn’t know why that should bother her so much. But, without her ID, she couldn’t get a driver’s license, couldn’t get her bank cards, or access any money she had in the bank. So many instances in everyday living required her identification.
“I don’t suppose you remember any of your numbers?”
“Does anyone?” she asked in astonishment.
He chuckled and poured out a stream of digits.
When he stopped, she said, “What the hell was that?”
“My Social Security number, driver’s license number, and my credit card numbers. With your numbers you could at least transfer money.”
“I still need a card to go to the bank to get it out.”
He shrugged. “Sure, but we could transfer the money into my account, and then you’d get some cash, while you wait for new cards to arrive.”
“Oh.” She shook her head. “It never occurred to me to memorize my numbers.” Then she remembered losing her purse while in the field over a year ago. “My bank keeps a copy of my passport photo on my account in case something like this happens.”
“I know it’s probably not the time to ask, but are you sure your name is Issa McGuire? Any chance it might have been changed?”
“That’s my name,” she said firmly.
“And you know for sure you’re from Ireland?”
She stared at his profile. “Meaning, my mother might’ve changed our name when we came to the States?” She frowned at his nod. “It’s our name but she Americanized hers, but I don’t know why.”
“Depends on what happened that killed your father and brothers,” he said. “If she thought you were still in danger, she might very well have.”
“But my first name is very unusual,” she murmured. Any other name felt and sounded foreign to her. “Wouldn’t she have changed that too?”
“Unless you refused to answer to anything else.”
Another memory popped into the confusion in her brain. “Actually, for a long time I didn’t speak.” She stared out at the world passing by. “After what happened to my father and brothers, I became mute for a long time. I know she was really frustrated with my slow return to normality. The specialists said to just let me be, that I’d recover after I had a chance to process the trauma.”
“How long were you like that?”
“At least six months. But I really struggled that first year. Not only was I behind in school, coming from Ireland, but I was also dealing with the trauma of so much loss and change, and it took several more years before I really got started with my education. I spent a lot of years playing catch up. Once I got it—once I understood this was my life now, and there was no going back—then I adapted. I took off, raced to the head of my class, and stayed there.”
“And why was that important to you?”
“Choices. I figured, if I was at the top of the class, I would have choices for my future. My mother didn’t appear to have any. She worked in a local retail store, running the cash register at minimum wage.”
“There was no money? She had no assets from Ireland?”
Issa shook her head. “Not that I know of. From my understanding, we arrived penniless, and there was never any spare money while I grew up. My mother was always penny-pinching to make things work. I got a job as soon as I was old enough, and it was the same kind of job she had. When I realized I could be working for minimum wage for the next forty years”—she shook her head—“I worked even harder at school.”
He nodded. “I can relate to that.”
When they hit Denver, he drove through the big city until they were on the side closest to his place. He pulled off at a restaurant. “Do you want to stop and have some lunch?”
“I can wait until we get home.”
“You might be able to, but I can’t.”
He waited until she got out the truck, and, even though she still was dressed in his clothes and felt like a hobo, he took her in and seated her at the first empty table. Positive everybody must be wondering who the hell she was, she kept her head down.
When she finally peeked around the space, she realized nobody even looked at her. A waitress came to bring them coffee and menus. Never was Issa more aware of her lack of funds than she was right now. In a low voice she said, “You do remember I don’t have access to my money?”
He stared at her, hardness coming into his eyes. His tone like flint, he said, “Did I ask you for any money? No. Lunch is on me, and make sure you order something substantial. Otherwise I’ll order for you. And we will stay here to make sure you eat it.”
She glared at him. “Are you always this bossy?”
“When people piss me off, yes.”
And she realized she’d offended him. Muttering, she said, “I’m sorry.” She settled in to study the menu. Her stomach was still touchy. She didn’t dare fill it too much. They had a beef and barley soup. She put her mind to that. “I think I will have the bowl of soup. That might stay down.”
He considered her for a long moment and nodded. “Too much of anything would likely upset your system.” When he placed their order, he added French bread to her order.
She sat back, feeling the fatigue of the long drive in her bones. “How long until we’re at your home again?”
“About thirty-five minutes. Do you think you can handle a clothing store for a couple pairs of pants and T-shirts, shoes and socks?”
She shivered and pulled her arms around her chest tighter. “I’m not sure about T-shirts. I’m still so cold. I need sweaters.”
He frowned.
She leaned forward. “Is there a thrift store around? Obviously my body weight is very low. We could find some sweatpants and sweatshirts cheap until I can put some weight back on. And right now I don’t care what I look like, as long as I’m warm.”
He lifted his gaze in surprise.
She shrugged. “I know. My mother was a skinflint, and apparently I picked up a few of her habits.”
He chuckled. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
The food arrived. He’d ordered a burger and fries, and her soup bowl was an impressive size. When the French bread was delivered, she knew she couldn’t eat both. She shook her head. “If I keep eating like this, I will build my weight back up with no problem.”
“It’ll take months.” He kept his gaze locked on her. “What was your body weight before you went missing?”
She frowned and glanced down. “I’ve always been lean,” she confessed.
“One hundred and twenty-five pounds?” he hazarded a guess, and she nodded.
“My mother had a scale. I think the last time I weighed myself, I was about a hundred and twenty-four pounds.” She wondered at a man who could pin her weight so accurately. “What would you expect me to weigh now?”
He shook his head. “I’d be surprised if you weighed a hundred and eight.”
It was hard to stare at her hands, the skin so thin that the veins showed through. “I got mononucleosis when I was in high school. I dropped down under the one hundred mark to around ninety-four pounds, but, even then, I wasn’t in this condition.”
“This condition isn’t just loss of weight. It’s malnourishment, stress, and injuries. What they did to you has accelerated the damage.”
She picked up her spoon and took a sip of the soup. It was delicious. “Well, at least they won’t have a chance to do it to me again.”
“It’s still a lot of damage and a lot of physical decline for just a couple or three weeks.”
“They were very rough weeks.” She took another sip of the soup, and suddenly she couldn’t get enough. She was hungry, and the soup hit the spot. She stopped all efforts of maintaining her calm and literally inhaled it. She did try to dip the French bread into the broth, but the slice was thick and not a whole lot of the broth came away with it. By the time she hit the bottom of the bowl, she broke up the French bread, softening it, but she couldn’t finish it.
She sat back. “Now that was good.” She stared in amazement at the bowl. “I didn’t think I’d be able to eat it all.”
“That’s because your body has been starved.”
She nodded. “We should probably pick up some multivitamins or something to help me get back on top again.”
He didn’t say anything but worked his way through his fries and burger.
She sipped her coffee and asked, “How do I go about getting my ID?”
“Hopefully we’ll find some documents, like your birth certificate, to make that job simpler.”
She brightened. “Right. I forgot about the boxes.”
By the time they went back out to the truck, she was in a pleasant state—feeling warm, cozy—and the fear had fallen back.
When he pulled into a large thrift store, she laughed. “See? This was a good idea.”
“I don’t know that it is,” he admitted. “But I couldn’t figure out what kind of clothing store would have clothes in your size. I was tempted to take you to a kid’s store.”
She shot him a look of outrage. “I’m sure we can find something here that works. And I’d feel much better if it didn’t cost an arm and a leg. I do intend to pay back every penny you spend on me.”
She ignored the fact he slammed the truck door hard at her words. She’d been raised to be independent, and she had no intention of taking advantage of the situation. But she needed to find something that would somewhat fit at this store.
With his help and a cart, she pulled out several pairs of sweatpants, a couple pairs of jeans, a few leggings, long-sleeve shirts, sweaters, and sweatshirts. When he looked through the winter jackets, she protested, seeing the tickets on some of these items were quite large.
He shot her a look and held one out to her. “Winter can land in Denver very quickly. No way you can wear my winter jackets.”
She struggled, not wanting the coat, as it was still way too big. Two jackets later, she found one. She glanced around for shoes as she still wore his socks. Noticing her interest, he found a used pair of sneakers that had some life in them, a couple of slip-ons, and a pair of boots for her to try on.
By the time she was done, she had a whole new wardrobe. She winced at the full cart. “What do you think all this costs?”
“It’s Tuesday. Everything is half price.”
She stared at him in delight. “Really, they do that?”
He chuckled. “And even if they didn’t, it wouldn’t matter.” He hesitated. “They might have socks that fit here too.”
One of the women who worked there heard them. She walked them over to several baskets full of heavy socks and lighter socks. And mittens as well. He took several that looked to be in good shape and added them to the pile. There he slid her a sidelong look. “With your low body weight, you don’t need a bra.”
Surprised, she glanced down and realized that, of course, when her body was so skinny, her breasts had shrunk. She shook her head in disbelief. “I used to be a B cup.”
“Well, now you’re maybe a double A,” he said with a smile.
She shot him a look of outrage, but, chuckling, he turned and walked to a different counter.
He motioned to the bras on the rack ahead of them. “This is your department. I don’t know anything about them.”
She found several brand-new sports bras hanging on a rack. They were very small, but she checked the sizes and then glanced down at her chest. She realized they were only a size smaller than what she would normally wear. She chose two and added them. “These will do, at least for now.”
“And panties?”
She winced. That was a great reminder she hadn’t had any underwear on for days now. She groaned and walked back to the lingerie section. It wasn’t the time to be squeamish. She should be grateful to have any. She found packages of unopened underwear set off to the side with tags on them, as if a store had just handed over all their old stock. The sizes were once again big. She chose a size she normally would have worn. One had six in the package. She held them up with a question in her eyes.
He nodded. “Absolutely. Can you get a second pack too?”
She looked, but there weren’t any more in that size. At the cash register, with the sale, the entire purchase ended up being less than fifty dollars. She stared openmouthed as he paid cash and carried her three large bags with her purchases.
When she got to the truck, she said, “You think she made a mistake?”
“What kind of mistake?”
“There are three bags full of clothes here, and you only paid fifty dollars.” She laughed. “I’m loving this.”
He helped her into the front of the truck, placing the bags in the back with the boxes. “Next up is home. Go to sleep if you can.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll be able to.”
But she was wrong.
The excitement of getting clothes of her own again had helped to give her a sense of peace. And, as the wheels turned under her, and Eagle drove them steadily homeward, the calmness around her stroked her mind, and she fell asleep.
*
He glanced over and smiled as she gave up the ghost. He’d loved seeing her in the secondhand store. Her reaction to the cost was priceless. He didn’t know what her mom might’ve been like, but he himself had been raised traveling around the world. He and his mom often ended up getting secondhand clothing, if only to replace those destroyed by his rough play. He didn’t see any reason not to shop that way. He couldn’t have bought a decent jacket in a real store for the fifty dollars he’d spent for everything just now. And, as she regained her weight, these purchases would become too small.
While she’d shopped, he’d sent texts to a couple friends, giving them a few important details. He’d used a code word they’d often employed in the military, letting them know the level of danger he suspected they were in.
Chances were the kidnapping assholes had already checked his license plate and probably knew everything there was to know about him and his property at this point. The kidnappers could be at his place in no time. Eagle drove steadily, watching to make sure they weren’t being followed. But he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. They drove up the long driveway, finding the dogs barking at the edge of the gates. As soon as they saw them, they switched from guard dogs to pets.
He unlocked the gate, got back in the truck, and parked near the house. He gave Issa a gentle shoulder shake and said, “Wake up, sweetie.”
She bolted upright, fear on her face. When she saw him, she put her hands over her face, and whispered, “Jesus. You scared me.”
“We’re home.”
She stared around in surprise. “I had no idea I had slept so long.”
“It wasn’t that long. But take it easy. We have some things to unload. I’ll go back and lock the gates and check on the property.” He turned to her. “I want you to stay in the truck.”
She was in the process of opening the door, but she stopped and looked at him. “For how long?”
“Just until I can get a perimeter check.”
She closed the door obediently. And sat there.
With the dogs on his heels, he checked the raptor pens and walked around the house and yard. He checked that the house security system was still on. Everything appeared normal. He gave her a thumbs-up, unlocked, and opened the door. Then he grabbed the boxes and carried them inside. On his second trip, he carried the clothes. He turned back to see her slowly making her way to the front door.
Inside, he dumped the three bags on her bed. “You might want to try on a few things.”
She walked into the bedroom and closed the door. He put on coffee and turned to look around. With her out of sight, he went to his computer and brought up the security cameras he had installed.
He had several on the property. The first showed nothing. Nobody drove up to the gates; nobody entered the front door. But, as he went to the last camera at the back of the house, directed to the back of the property, he watched as a shadow slowly walked the outside of his interior fence line.
So they’d found him. They just hadn’t figured out what to do yet.