Episode 13: Trapped

Episode 13
TRAPPED

“Why don’t we find a way out of here? This wasn’t exactly the way I had my evening planned,” Carrie Hawkins said as she tried to walk away from Patrick. The only problem was, he had a hold of her arm.

“Come on. This gives us the perfect chance to talk privately.” Patrick reached for her face and brushed a strand of blond hair away from her face. “Why did you walk away from me when we were together before? Why did you push me away?”

Carrie recognized that look in his eyes. He’d had it years ago when she left him and he still had it today.

“There’s something you need to know, Carrie.”

“Don’t say it, Patrick. I know Carly tricked you into getting her pregnant, but you have a family now. The past is only going to get us into trouble.”

His hand didn’t stray once it was on her face. He continued to caress her cheek with his thumb.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” she whispered.

“I know exactly what I’m doing. Something I should have done a long time ago.”

He leaned down and gathered her into his arms. Her mind may have fought the feeling but her body had different ideas.

“This is crazy,” she said.

“I’ve missed you for so long it seems like an eternity. Being with you right now, it feels right.”

He didn’t hesitate, his lips captured hers. At first she seemed to fight him, but a few seconds was all she needed to ignore her mind and listen to her heart.

Neither of them noticed the shadow at the window. Someone was watching them as they kissed. The figure grabbed a cell phone from their pocket and sent a text message. The recipient of the message was none other than Carly Donovan!

***

Michael Donovan leaned back in the booth at the front of the Java Hut. The sun was shining into the café, but he didn’t mind the brightness. He was going to enjoy it while it lasted. The weather channel was on over the juice bar predicting severe thunderstorms tonight.

“So much for my golf game,” Michael mumbled as the waitress brought him a cup and poured coffee from a fresh pot.

The waitress smiled at him. She was quite a beauty. One of those women who looked like they’d had tons of plastic surgery but was probably just born that way. Her short red bob with streaks of blonde highlights only had him curious how it would feel running through his fingers. He shook off the intense image as he realized that she’d just spoken to him.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I said that you never know. The weather forecasters around here aren’t exactly the most reliable on the planet.”

Mike smiled. “You’re right, but it did smell like rain when I left this morning. The crops around here need it anyway, so I can’t complain.”

He took a sip of the fresh brew and smiled in satisfaction. He did love a good cup of coffee.

“So, are you new in town? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. The thing about Centralia is that it has that small town charm where you eventually get to know everyone’s name.”

She laughed nervously and hesitated as if wondering if he was trustworthy.

“Guilty as charged. I’ve had some personal problems lately. Trying to escape my past, a nasty ex, a crappy boss. You know how it is, I’m sure.”

She offered her hand in welcome. “My name is Shawna Carlyle. I just moved into town yesterday. The owner of the Java Hut, Mrs. Collins took pity on me and my sob story and offered me a job.”

“This is a nice place. Good people. They’ll treat you right here.” Michael waved at Rand who peeked into the front door.

“There are my friends,” he said pointing toward the front of the store.”

Rand approached. He brushed by the beautiful waitress as if she was a piece of furniture. There must be something truly important on his mind to miss out on the beautiful scenery inside the Java Hut.

“If you don’t mind, Michael, why don’t we sit in the back room,” Rand Boyd said.

“Fine with me. That okay with you? Michael asked Shawna.

“Oh, I don’t see why not. Knock yourselves out.” The redhead returned to the cash register where someone was waiting to pay for their purchase.

“What’s with the mysterious behavior, Rand?” Michael asked.

“Be warned,” Rand said. “This is going to blow your mind.”

He waved toward someone standing at the front of the café. Michael noticed Shawna’s eyes follow the woman across the room. He could see true recognition light in her eyes.

Rand cleared his throat. “Uh, Michael?”

Michael pulled his eyes from the waitress and focused in on the woman standing at Rand’s side. His eyes grew wide.

“Angela! What are you doing outside your hospital room?”

“Relax, sport. My name is not Angela. It’s Alex. Alex Maxwell. I don’t know who Angela is, but this is getting a bit old.”

The look on Michael’s face was one of shock and wonder.

***

Nick Boyd knew Carrie was up to something. She wouldn’t have come back to work without a damn good reason. And this psychic woohoo was just that woohoo.

He slammed a hand on the steering wheel as he pulled up into Mama Boyd’s driveway.

“What in the hell is going on between Patrick and Carrie?”

His mother met him at the door. She had a scowl painted on her face.

“Is there something wrong with me? Something wrong with my cooking?” Nadine Boyd asked her son.

“Of course not,” Nick said, kissing his mother on the cheek. Why would you think that?”

“You’ve been back in town for a short while now and yet have not come to visit your mother. So, I ask you again, what’s wrong with me?”

The guilt trip had already begun which only meant one thing. Rand hadn’t been around much either.

“I’m here now, aren’t I? Where’s Rand?”

“Oh, you know that brother of yours, always here and there trying to fix something. I think he’s out at that cabin of his out on the outer forty. Patrick and some pretty blond went out there looking for him an hour ago.”

Nick ran a hand through his messy hair that was in severe need of a haircut.

“Carrie and Patrick went to Rand’s ranch?” Nick repeated. “What in the hell do they want to see him for?”

Mama Boyd popped Nick on the back of the head.

“Watch your language, young man. We’ve got a little girl in this house now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nick said, glancing around the room fro Emile. “Where is the little trouble-maker?”

“That sweet darling is out on that rambunctious horse of hers. I told her not to go far but she’s been riding out to the edge of the ranch.” Mama chuckled. “Drives Rand nuts. On some days, I have to have Rio track her down for me. She’s a good girl but she tries my patience sometimes as well.”

“I’m going to check on Carrie and Patrick and I’ll keep an eye out for Emile as well.”

“Thanks, hon.”

Nick kissed his Mama goodbye and headed for Rand’s ranch. He knew this was a distraction he didn’t need. But whenever Carrie was around he couldn’t seem to focus on work.

Speaking of work, he needed to call his partner, Mal.

“What are you doin’, man?” Mal asked. His voice was rather loud on Nick’s cell phone but his voice did tend to carry more than most people’s. “This train wreck is high priority. We don’t need our agents going out on wild goose chases. Carrie may have her psycho-from-the-past theory but I’ve uncovered something too. There was a professional hit put out on some Irish dancer on the train. I’m talkin’ high end. Expensive.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“And get this,” Mal continued. “His main squeeze is the vice-president’s daughter, Jessica Thompson. And! And, this is the real kicker. The Irish dancer also has a past with our sleeping beauty in the hospital, Alex Maxwell.” Mal chuckled and puffed on a cigar Nick could smell the remains of in his car. “Blows my freakin’ mind.”

“Good work, Mal. Thanks for covering my ass.”

“I know you’d do the same for me and have back when that mess with my ex took all my attention. But Nick, I’ve got to tell you, Carrie fell for your good looks once, she’s too smart to fall a second time. You’re pretty high maintenance and hardly available on a regular basis. Plus, you do have some big competition in town. Back in college, Carrie’s main squeeze was Patrick Donovan. He’s a doc over at the hospital now.”

“I know who he is,” Nick grumbled.

“And I’m sure a doctor’s salary is much more appealing than a police officers.” His partner laughed, dang him, but Nick knew he was right. He didn’t have much to offer a woman.

“Okay, you annoying nag. I’m turning around now and coming back in. I want to look more into this connection between our dead Irish dancer and Alex Maxwell.

“See ya in a few,” Mal said severing the connection.

Nick felt safe following up on this new lead. Patrick was such a do-gooder that he would never cheat on this wife, no matter how much of a monster she was.

***

Emile DeYoung liked visiting Rand’s cabin. She liked to think of it as her own little playhouse. The doors were usually locked and nailed shut but she’d found her own secret way in through the basement.

She saw the man peeking into the cabin windows. What was he doing? Emile grabbed the kiddie cell phone Rand had made her keep with her at all times. It only had two numbers that would work. Home and Rand’s cell. She thought it was a safe bet to call Rand’s cell.

She held the phone in her hand as she snuck up to the doorway at the side of the house. She peeked inside to see what the man was looking at.

Emile rubbed the grime from the glass and saw Patrick kissing another woman.

“Oh, Patrick is so busted.”

Emile heard the unknown man coming her way and she backed up on the porch. The boards beneath her feet were weak and she could hear them creek. But she didn’t weigh much and Emile felt safe walking over them.

She punched the button on her cell for Rand’s phone and waited for the thing to dial. Before she could answer the boards beneath her feel broke and she fell into the basement. Her scream could be heard in the house and by the strange man. The man made it to the hole first and peered into the basement. Emile was lying on the ground. The fall had knocked her out. He could hear Rand answer her call. He picked up the cell and tossed it into the river. No one was going to use their GPS tracking device tonight.