The birth certificate was a bust. Not only had the site kicked her out but she didn’t have her mom’s name, never mind her maiden name. How was she supposed to get that?
Most people would already know that.
She bet even Bill knew who his parents were. Maybe it really was time for her to contact her father... to get some answers... to stand up to him. Her hands trembled as she ran them through her hair. Her fingers slid through the short strands so fast, it caught her off guard. As a child, she’d spent hours laying on her bed and playing with her long hair. It had been one of the only things she could do without having to ask for permission. It had become one of those go-to habits when she needed to think or de-stress.
The little body beside her snuggled into her side as his little hand came up to tickle her under her chin. She giggled and then he pounced on her.
“Ooommph.”
“Got you, Mommy.”
“Help me. Help me.” She poked her fingers into his sides. He exploded into laughter while he squirmed. A day of quiet had done him wonders. There was still a bit of pink to his cheeks but the tooth that had been causing him so much grief appeared to have poked through and wasn’t hurting as much.
They play-wrestled for a good twenty minutes until they were both pooped.
“Honey, I have an errand to run this morning. So we’ll go to the zoo later today. Okay?”
“Zoo, Mommy, zoo.”
“Yeah, sweetie. Soon.”
After she put him in Kim’s care, she showered and dressed. The reality of her expectations made her hands shake so badly she could barely button her blouse. Once dressed, she opened her sock drawer and pulled out the sheet of paper she was sure would lead her to some answers. Could the police have gotten any fingerprints off it? Had she made a big mistake by not going to them?
For the hundredth time, she berated herself for not doing so. But the fear of what her father would have thought and the fact he may have disowned her had stopped her. In fact, she knew the statistics for women reporting rape, abuse and other violent acts against them was estimated at less than ten to twenty percent. It sickened her to think that others had similar experiences. No woman should be treated that way.
The ever-present question was why? And did they know about her son?
At the restaurant, she sat at a table that gave her a good view of the entrance. She was over half an hour early but she wanted to be there when the woman arrived. There was no way she would miss her.
The restaurant was about half full of people eating breakfast. She scanned each table and person to make sure the woman hadn’t arrived there first. The only description she’d given was she’d be wearing a silver necklace with a snowflake shaped pendant.
Tarin also shared the woman’s fear of disclosing what she looked like. Tarin had only told her that she’d have a pair of white-framed sunglasses perched on top of her head. Currently they were tucked in her purse. She’d pull them out, ready to put on, if she found the person she was to meet. She had so wanted to tell her more but something held her back.
There were eight other women present. She studied each one.
One sat by herself reading a book as she ate. She was wearing a heavily beaded necklace.
Another was sitting with a man; she was doing all the talking and he was doing all the eating. The woman was sitting so the only way Tarin could see if she wore a necklace would be to walk past their table. But she didn’t feel right. It was doubtful she’d bring her husband or boyfriend along to talk about abuse.
Four women that appeared to be on a regular get-together were laughing and talking. None looked as if they were hiding a dark secret, but that almost made Tarin laugh. People would say the same thing about her as well.
Two other females were sitting together. Every now and then they’d look in her direction, like they were questioning what she was doing. Unsure what that meant, Tarin realized she’d been sitting there for fifteen minutes without so much as taking a sip of water, reading the menu or ordering. Doubtful she could get anything past her tight throat or keep it down, she opted for a cup of tea and a biscuit. It would give her something to pick at and she’d look like she should be there.
Forty-five minutes later she had fully shredded her breakfast so it looked like a snowfall of crumbs on her plate but still she didn’t see the woman who she was to meet. Glancing around carefully seeing if any woman was wearing a snowflake necklace, it dawned on her that the woman could be doing the same thing as her. Pulling out her sunglasses she perched them on her head.
A few ladies left and a few more came in. No one really even gave her any notice and yet for some reason she felt like she was being watched. The waitress stopped by with that sympathetic look one gets when one is stood up and wanted to know if she could get her something else. Translation eat and then get out. They were filling up; only two tables were vacant. Unfortunately, all the women appeared to be old enough to be her mother or grandmother. Not the woman she was searching for and none looked her way.
Another ten minutes and she finally gave up. People had come and gone, not one was the same, yet she still felt like someone was waiting for her. Desperate now to get out of there, she paid and left. Wondering if the woman had sent an email cancelling, she headed to the office, praying no one would be there. Graham usually was but hopefully she could come up with something that would appease him. Or she’d cough a few times so he’d really believe she wasn’t feeling well.
Opening the office door slowly, she peered around it. There was nothing but silence. Surprised but happy, she looked toward the inner office, reminding herself he could still be behind those doors. The need to know what was going on loomed larger than worry about confronting her boss. She quickly sat at her computer and logged into her website. Nothing. There was nothing from the woman who had agreed to meet her.
So what happened?
Her cell phone rang. She jerked so hard that if someone had seen her, they would have thought she was having a seizure. Her first instinct was to ignore it but then she realized not many people had it. She checked the caller ID. It was Bailey. Frowning, she answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Hi Tarin, it’s Bailey. Hey, I know you’re new in town and all and I know what it’s like not to know a soul. And you seemed interested.”
Confused, Tarin wasn’t sure what to say or if they’d lost the connection. “Hello?”
“Hi. Sorry. I didn’t mean to disappear on you. I realized I suck at this. Look I have to go out to the winery on Monday to look over some things for my wedding. You seemed interested and I wanted to know if you’d like to come with me?”
“Yes!”
“Oh, well okay. Meet me at 4:00. Do you need me to talk to Guy or Graham so you can get off early?”
“No, I’ve got it.”
“Right. See you Monday.” She gave her directions where to meet and then hung up.
It took a moment for that stilted conversation to work its way through her brain. She was going to Caspian Winery again but this time with family. Her heart sped up. Images, thoughts and feelings all flooded over her at once. It was all so fast and furious that she found herself sitting there, staring off into space. She couldn’t even comprehend that she was going there and very possibly meet the staff—especially the one whose pictures she’d stolen. She wondered if she saw the person responsible for her lost week, she’d recognize him.
The ding on her computer slammed her back to the present. She still had emails open and she needed to get out of there. Not sure what to do, she finally decided to send off another email to the woman, suggesting they reschedule for next Saturday. She didn’t want to wait another week but if things went well she’d be meeting with the first person to hear her story or at least enough of it so the woman would open up about hers.
Then she sent emails to four more women, asking if they’d share more or be willing to get together. None had replied to her previous messages. She was close to feeling like a stalker. She was trying to respect each person’s privacy and hoped they’d come forward on their own but the need for some clarity in her life was almost overwhelming.
Tapping her fingernails on her desk, she contemplated hacking their accounts to see what she could find out about each of them. The thought of someone doing that to her, especially after what she’d been through, would not make her happy. In fact, she would shut right down, which was the last thing she wanted to have happen with these women. The conflict between figuring out what the hell was going on and respecting the women’s privacy pummeled her stomach as if an ulcer was being drilled out with a jackhammer. She decided she would wait a while longer and pray that someone would come through with helpful information. She needed something—anything—that would finally help her solve that huge puzzle. Otherwise, she felt as though she would go through life like she had a target situated right between her shoulder blades.
Tears filled her eyes as she realized that yet again she had to go home empty-handed. Choking back her emotions, she closed it out. As she was about to shut down her computer, she remembered the USB and the encrypted information. Once she had it open and was looking at the files, she found she couldn’t go any further. What if all it is, is confidential business records? Winemaking recipes? Closing her eyes for a minute, she decided to wait until she’d been to the winery with Bailey. She wanted to meet the man up close that she’d seen do unspeakable things and see if she could tap into her memories to determine if he had been responsible for her abduction.
Ready to get out of there, she was about to shut down when she realized she’d gotten another message. It was a reply to hers, and she quickly opened it. The woman said she could meet the next day. There was no explanation for not showing up. Tarin pressed her hands to her face and tried to get her ragged breathing under control.
Oh my god, it’s really going to happen.
She wasn’t sure if she heard something or if it was guilty paranoia but her head jerked up and from side to side. It was time to leave. Getting up, she put everything back in its place, she locked up and left. Stepping out of the building, she’d only made it two steps when she smelled a familiar, strong, pungent odor. She was about to turn when she was grabbed. Something jabbed into her back while a foul-smelling arm wrapped around her neck.
“Hold it. You’re not going anywhere. Graham said you called in sick. You’re coming with me.”
“Look, Bill. They must trust me or they wouldn’t have given me a key and the codes.”
He stubbornly stabbed her in the ribs again. Fear slithered through her belly, as she pondered his mental stability.
“Move.”
“Where are we going?”
“Just go. Oh and give me your cell phone, I need to make a call.”
Not sure whether to laugh or cry, she let him push her around the side of the building, directing her to walk down the alley. That’s when her nerves kicked in, stopping her forward motion.
“I don’t think this is goo—”
“I won’t ask again. Now.”
She didn’t sense that she was in imminent danger but she also knew nothing about him. “Graham won’t be happy if anything happens to me.”
He kept her walking until they came to a door at the back end of the building. He fumbled with the lock before pushing her inside. She stumbled through the opening only to stop dead.
What the—