Ride the Nightmare

“I didn’t know she was coming.”

“Yes. She planned to pay you a visit, with Connie.”

“Well, how lovely,” said Mrs. Shaw, “I’ll be looking for them.”

“Would you ask her to phone me when she gets there?” he asked.

“All right. At the store?”

“Yes. Please.”

“I will, Chris.”

“Thanks, Mom. See you soon then.”

After he’d hung up, Chris sat restively, tapping on his desk. He was anxious to talk with Helen, to let her know what he was planning to do. He wanted to hear her shocked yet—he felt sure—proud reaction. He needed it before he could call the police.

For a moment, he wondered if what he really wanted was for her to talk him out of it. He thought about that, trying to decide what he’d do if she tried to dissuade him. Somehow, it seemed no problem. He couldn’t believe that he’d change his mind now.

Sighing, he rotated his swivel chair and looked through the glass partition at the store. Jimmy was still hard at work relocating the LP albums. He was a good kid, Chris thought. With Helen’s assistance, Jimmy could manage the store very well while he was gone. Gone.

Chris shuddered. The store had never looked more wonderful to him; his life with Helen and Connie had never seemed more perfect. Yet he’d be throwing it all away by calling the police.

Involuntarily, he glanced at the wall clock. It was almost ten. there was still time. He could go to the bank, withdraw the money, drive to—

No. He closed his eyes, furious at the temptation. The choice was made. He wouldn’t weaken now.

When he opened his eyes, Helen was just entering the store.

Chris stood without knowing it. He stared at her expressionless face as she came walking down the length of the store with slow, unbalanced strides. Faintly, he heard Jimmy say good morning to her. She didn’t turn or answer. She kept walking toward the office, eyes fixed straight ahead, features tensely set. Chris stepped to the door on suddenly trembling legs and pulled it open.

“Honey, what is it?” he heard himself mutter.

Her voice was hoarse, shaking.

“She’s gone,” she said.

“What?”

“They took her!” she gasped,  “They took my baby!”

Chapter Eight

Behind the counter, Jimmy glanced away embarrassedly. Chris looked back at Helen’s stricken face. He could feel his hands twitch, feel a thickened pulsing at his temples. Still, there was no horror. Numbly, he reached for her arm.

“Come in the office,” he said.

She jerked back. “Get away!” she whispered vehemently.

“Helen.” He sucked in breath. “Helen, please come in the office,” he begged, “Jimmy can hear us.”

“Oh, that matters,” she said, brokenly. “That really matters.”

She stumbled past him and he followed dizzily, shutting the door behind himself.

“What happened?” he asked.

She whirled on him. “I told you!” she cried. “Are you deaf? They took Connie!” A sob tore at her throat. “They took my baby!”

Again, instinctively, he reached for her. Again, she shrank away.

“Don’t touch me,” she said.

“Helen, do you think I—?”

“Yes, I think it’s your fault! You were so careful to protect yourself! So careful.”

“Helen, what happened?”

She caught herself, forcing down the rage and anguish. Chris stared at her, waiting. His heartbeat was a slow, painful jolting.

“They came to the house,” she said, quietly, measuredly. “You knew they were coming, didn’t you?”

“Why didn’t you leave when I phoned?”

“You knew they were coming.”

“Helen, for God’s sake!” It was there now, the shock, the horror, all of it.

“They took her away, Chris. Just took her away. They said they’d—” her teeth clenched “—they’d kill her if you didn’t bring the money.”

She stared at him balefully. “Now tell me you didn’t know,” she said.

“Helen, I swear—”

“Yes, swear, swear! I’m sure it’ll bring her back!”

Chris glanced out at the store in time to see Jimmy look away again He raised his eyes to the clock. It was after ten.

“I’ll get the money,” he said. “I’ll bring her back.”

“You’ll bring her back.” Abruptly, Helen began to cry, both hands pressed shakingly across her face. “You’ll bring her back.”

“Helen, you didn’t call the police?”

She turned again, jerking down her hands, a near deranged look on her face. “The police!” she said. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

He grabbed her shoulders. “Now, listen to me,” he started

“Is that all you’re—?”

“Listen to me!” Her head snapped as he jerked her shoulders violently.

“Go on,” she said, “Tell me your troubles.”

“Did you call the police?”

“No! Are you happy now? Are you relieved?”

His voice shook as he answered her.

“Helen, if the police come into this, Connie hasn’t got a chance and you know it.”

“Oh God.” she whimpered. She almost fell as a spasm of grief wrenched her. “I want my baby.”

“Helen, I’ll get her.”

She pulled away from him and, stumbling to the wall, leaned against it. crying helplessly.

“My baby,” she said. “I want her now. I want her.”

“I’ll get the money.” he said.

“Yes, get the money, get the money,” she echoed hollowly, “Save yourself.”

He started to say something, then checked himself. There was no sense in trying to reason with her now.

“We’ll never see her again,” said Helen.

“Yes, we will, Helen. I’ll get her back.”

“No, no, no.” She almost crooned the word, shaking her head.

“We will.”

She turned abruptly, pale with fury.

“How many kidnapped children ever live!” she cried, “Tell me!”

He caught her hands and held them so tightly that she winced.