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RANDALL CHECKED THE time as they made their way down the empty roads and back to Spring Street. He had a few hours before it was time to get back to the station. He was exhausted but it was the best night of his life. “It just proved if you ride out the tough times, something good is just around the corner,” he thought and took a deep breath of the cool night air. He helped Traci up the front steps and into the dark house. Things were going to fall into place now. And, if not, they would ride out the storm together. That’s all he could ask for right now. He switched on the lamp and turned to kiss his bride one more time before securing the house. She was staring at her phone buzzing on the coffee table where she had left it behind. Her hand was trembling as she lifted it and began swiping the screen up, then down. Then up again.
“What’s happening?” he said in a low voice.
“Milo is missing.”
Randall stepped toward her and she backed away. He reached in his pocket for his cellphone. “Alright, I'll make a few calls and get some cars on the street. What time did they ...”
Traci raced upstairs and came back within minutes with her purse, jeans, sweatshirt, and ball cap.
“What are you doing? Let the police handle this, Tracinda.”
She snatched the car keys out of his hand.
Randall reached for her, then paused to process the situation and decide what he should say, “It’s too late and it's too dangerous. The fuel lines on the Chevelle still need work, the car might stall out somewhere ... and, if Milo wanted to return to the streets, no one could stop him.” But all he could muster was “Wait ...”
“It’s all my fault,” she said, her eyes wild with fear.
“You were with me all night. How is this your fault?”
“It just is,” she whispered. “It’s been hours. He’s probably hiding some place, scared. I’ve got to find him!”
He blocked her way to the front door. “I can’t let you. Give me the keys.”
Traci pushed against him and squared her footing. “You don't know what it's like, Randall.” She spun around and faced him, but her eyes would not focus on him. She was talking into the air. “You don't know what it's like to want to run when nobody is chasing you. To be put in a place where people tell you that you're safe, but you know that you're not, you're not ever safe. Everybody's making decisions for your life and nobody cares about your life. No matter how scary it may be out there, it's better than here. Running is all that you can do.”
She was sobbing now, pacing in circles. He could see where this was headed, and he just couldn’t let it go there tonight. “Tracinda ...”
“Running becomes your life. No, it doesn't work. It doesn't fix anything but it's the only thing you know. You don't know about that life, Randall. You just don't.”
He reached for her again. She pushed his hand away, regained her composure and pointed her finger at him. “I'm taking the car, Randall. If it stops running, I'll take the bus. I'll ride every bus on the line. I'll walk every street and search every alley but, I'm going to find Milo. I'm going to find him and I'm going to bring him home.”
He knew he had to stop her and grabbed her hand. She twisted it away and rushed outside through the back door. Randall strapped on his weapon, ran out the front door, leaped off the side of the porch just in time to meet her at the car. He grabbed her hand on the door handle. She tried to pull away. He blocked her fist inches from his face and held onto her wrists, as he looked into her tear streaked face. “I'll drive.”
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RANDALL EXCHANGED A wave with Officer Sinclair as they drove past each other in the alley behind Spring Street. Two and a half hours and four squad cars crawling the streets of Keeferton and no trace of Milo. Traci had gone through the cycle of fear, rage, adrenaline and finally passed out in the passenger seat. He was thankful for that. There were a thousand things he had wanted to say but tightened his jaw and kept quiet. It was time to get home and have a tough conversation in the morning.
“Angel, wake up.” Randall said nudging her out of the car.
“Did you find him?” she murmured, half asleep.
“No, not yet.”
She tried to get back in, but he placed both hands on the car top and blocked her with his chest.
“We’ll get some sleep, a shower, and something to eat. Then, we can start again, fresh.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Well, I am,” he insisted through clenched teeth. She looked at his face for what seemed like the first time since that night. “Be reasonable, my love,” he pleaded softly.
She nodded, dropped her head on his chest, and her legs weakened.
Randall lifted her into his arms and carried her to the door. “Believe me, we’re doing everything we can to find Milo.”