Stranger in Town - By Cheryl Bradshaw Page 0,1

her hands. She stuck out her tiny hand, and the man wrapped it in his. But when they got to the end of the aisle, he didn’t turn toward where Olivia had pointed, he kept walking.

A faint whisper echoed in the distance. “Olivia, honey, where are you?”

She wanted to cry out, “Mother, I am here!” But the man clasped her hand so tight, she was too afraid to say anything.

Hand in hand, they walked through the front door. The sun had just started to go down when they stepped outside, but it was still light enough for Olivia to recognize the person walking toward them.

“Olivia, is that you?” the woman said.

It was her white-haired, wrinkly-faced neighbor, Mrs. Schroeder.

“Excuse me,” Mrs. Schroeder said to the man, “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Helen Schroeder. Are you a relative of the Hathaway family, in town for a visit perhaps?”

The man looked down and kept walking without responding to the old woman. He stopped next to a silver car and turned to Olivia. “Get in.”

She did.

He shut her inside and turned around to find Mrs. Schroeder glaring up at him.

“I really must insist you answer my question,” Mrs. Schroeder said. “Or I’ll have no choice but to call Olivia’s parents right now.”

Mrs. Schroeder tapped her wooden cane on the back window of the car. “Olivia, dear, do you know this man?”

The man glanced around. Seeing no one, he pulled a knife from his front pocket, clicking a button on the top. The knife sprung to life. Before the old woman had the chance to scream, the man thrust the knife into her side. “I’m sorry, but I’ve had enough of your stupid questions,” he said.

The woman tried to grab for the door handle, but collapsed to the ground. The man stepped over her and got into the car.

Olivia shielded her eyes and thrashed her head from side to side. “It’s okay, everything’s okay. Mommy will find me,” she whispered to herself. All she could think about was being at home in her pink room. If she could just go home, she’d never run away from her mommy again.

The man started the car and backed out. The car bounced up and down for a moment. It reminded Olivia of the time her dad ran over the neighbor’s cat by accident. Olivia gathered up enough courage to move one of her fingers away from her eyes just enough to see Mrs. Schroeder through the car window. She was on the ground, motionless.

The man turned around, smiling. Olivia noticed a hole in his mouth where a tooth should have been.

“Mrs. Schroeder will be okay, Olivia,” the man said. “She fell down, that’s all. Lie down now, and try to get some sleep. When you wake up, you’ll be home.”

Olivia stared down at her star, wishing what he said was true.

Inside the store, a frantic Mrs. Hathaway ran up and down the aisles begging anyone she came in contact with to help find her missing daughter. A few minutes later the store was locked down. But it was too late. Olivia was gone.

CHAPTER 2

I-80 Freeway, Eastbound

October 9, 2012

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t peel my eyes away from the digital numbers on the dashboard clock in front of me. It was 12:45 p.m., and I had two options: break the law by speeding or accept the fact I was going to be late. I glanced around, taking in the reflection of the rear-view mirror, and slammed my foot down on the pedal.

Two hours earlier I’d been enjoying a cheese soufflé with my friend Maddie when my cell phone rang. I hadn’t recognized the number and sent it to voicemail. But something about seeing the little white number “1” circled in red on my iPhone sent my OCD into overdrive. Turning the phone over and setting it down on the counter didn’t help things either. I knew when I flipped it back around the number would still be there, taunting me like a baker dangling a fresh, glazed donut in front of my face. Take it, you know you want to.

So I did.

The message began, Hi, umm, my name is Noah Tate. I got your card from someone I met. I’m looking for a private investigator, and he recommended I contact you. If you’re not too busy, I’d like to meet later today. I realize it’s short notice…

There was a moment of silence, and then …

Please. If you could just help me. I don’t know what