The sheets sounded crisp when I pulled the covers down on the bed. I had never slept in a bed besides my own, and I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to relax enough to nod off here. I crawled under the covers and sat up looking around the room assigned to me.
Above the headboard of the bed hung a large quilt showing off an early American pattern all in pastel pinks, greens, blues and beiges. The goose-down comforter on the bed was covered by another quilt of equal detail and colors but a different pattern. There were teddy bears piled neatly on the long dresser to my right, and across from where I sat was a large window with a decorative arch above it. To my left was a walk-in closet.
This room was obviously used as storage for Michelle’s baskets, bears and quilts. I wouldn’t have been surprised at all if I opened that closet and found it stacked ceiling to floor with more of the same.
The room smelled of cinnamon and vanilla and nutmeg. For the first few minutes, I found the scent interesting and maybe even nice. But now, an hour later, it’s an overwhelmingly pungent odor. I’m sure it was a potpourri of some kind, but it was incredibly strong as I lay back on the too firm pillow. What did she do, make her own scented oils in this room? It’s as though the oils saturated the bedding. Ugh.
Yeah, it was going to be tricky falling asleep here.
But I should be thankful that this family came to help me and my brothers. My mother always raised us to be thankful for what we have and not even look at what we don’t have. “We are blessed,” she would often remind us when we were acting a little bratty.
Right about now, I was trying very hard to maintain my composure by counting my blessings, because if I let myself just sit and think about all that happened to me in the past forty-eight hours, I’m sure I would burst into tears. And what good would that do anyone? The boys need to see me as strong and confident—not a whimpering baby.
I made myself lie back down and position the pillows as best as I could. I must have drifted off because the next thing I remember was waking to sound of voices yelling.
Chapter 18 Something Wicked This Way Comes
He stretched his legs, first his right, then the left. Working his way up his body, he next stretched his back by sitting up straight and twisting first right then left. Now his arms he lifted above his head and stretched his triceps then rolled his shoulders. He tipped his head up first, then let it slowly roll to the right listening to the ever present crack, crack, cracking from the stiffness, then he continued the roll around to the front, then left (more cracking). He shook his head quickly trying to wake his face. It had been a long night with very little activity to report.
Their source had given them excellent information. The doctor and the children had arrived at Kansas City International on time. They drove directly to this address. They spent the evening indoors, except for the girl who took the dog to the backyard for a while, then left him outside while she returned inside. Nothing extraordinary happened there. It looked like the family was asleep by 11pm. There has been no activity since.
Being assigned to stakeouts wasn’t his favorite activity, but it was often the precursor to what he enjoyed the most. A strangled smile cut across his scarred face. He was thinking about what he’d like to do to that little girl before he turned her over to his boss.
Oh, yeah…this was going to be fun.
Chapter 19 Meg the Meglodon
The boys were already awake. I could hear them outside. Of course, they were yelling so loudly, I’m sure the whole neighborhood could hear them. Ugh. I threw on blue jeans and a T-shirt, amazed to note that I’d barely disturbed the bedding. Despite it smelling like a potpourri shop, I must have slept like a rock.
I was about to run down the stairs but hesitated and headed right back to the bathroom. First things, first. However loud they were being, a girl’s got to brush her teeth!
Okay, so I wasn’t just a brush the teeth kinda girl, I had to floss, too. Flossing is super important, I think. It has always felt more like a massage to my gums than a chore to me. So floss first, then brush, then go tackle the two little noisemaking goof-balls outside. Nice, short to-do list.
I hopped down the stairs and flew passed Dr. Andrews heading out the back door.
“Morning, Meg. How did you sleep?” The doctor watched me run past as he sat at the kitchen table reading the newspaper.
“Fine,” I chirped just before the door shut behind me.
“What are you two doing? You’re making enough noise to wake the dead, for crying out loud!”
“Morning, Meg!” When Alik smiled, it was very hard to be upset with him. He was just such a cute kid.