Starting at Unit A, he knocked on Joey's neighbor's door. He kept the questions short and remained calm. Nobody needed to know why he was asking or see the fear inside of him.
All three apartments on the ground floor hadn't seen her. He ran up the stairs, inquiring at each door on the second story. It took longer than usual at Mrs. Danski's apartment, waiting for her to answer his knock.
"Mr. Carr, what are you doing out in the rain?" Mrs. Danski stepped back. "Come in and dry off."
"I can't tonight. I was wondering if you've seen Joey or my son, Travis?"
She smiled. "Yes, I've seen them."
"Can you remember when?" His heart raced. Mrs. Danski was a busybody who loved Joey.
"Of course, I can. I haven't lost my mind yet. I can remember things clear back to when I was five years old when my mom took me to the strawberry fields." She smirked at him. "I talked to Joey right before I watched the end of my afternoon soap. It was almost three o'clock."
Disappointment filled him. He'd talked to Joey right before three o'clock. Nobody had seen her since. He had no idea if Travis got off the bus or not, or if he was with Joey.
"Then, I saw her a little after three o'clock when my show ended," said Mrs. Danski. "But she was busy, so I brought in my Christmas Cactus—because it was raining harder than I thought it would, and I don't want to shock the plant. It blooms every year. That plant is older than you, Mr. Carr. My mother, bless her soul, had—"
"Joey was busy?" he interrupted. "What was she doing?"
Mrs. Danski clasped her hands in front of her and nodded. "Yes, I believe she was escorting a repairman to one of the apartments. Her and young Travis. They were all walking in the rain like they weren't getting soaking wet. Young people... don't think about catching a cold the way us older folks do. They're all about going places and seeing people."
He stepped back to the railing of the balcony and peered down. "What did the repairman look like?"
"Scruffy. Long, dark hair. That's how I knew he was a repairman. At least this one had his pants covering his skinny rear-end." Mrs. Danski tsked her tongue. "I've seen some repairmen that make you wonder why they can't feel the breeze on their backend."
"Which direction did they go?"
Mrs. Danski pointed toward the end unit. "Really, Mr. Carr. You sure are full of questions. Are you missing our sweet Joey?"
"You have no idea, Mrs. Danski." He backed away. "Thank you."
"Good luck finding her, Mr. Carr."
He lifted his hand, taking the stairs three at a time. Betting his life that the skinny ass repairman was Dean Miller, and he had Travis and Joey, he ran. He'd already lost precious minutes.
Chapter 35Joey
TRAVIS HOPPED ACROSS the room on two feet and threw his shoulder against the door. Sitting on the floor, Joey cringed. He was going to break a bone if he continued.
Neither one of them could get the tape binding their ankles off or free their wrists bound behind their back. Frustrated because she couldn't do more, she rotated her shoulders. The pain from being in the awkward position was unbearable. While Travis had finally got on his feet and was able to hop, she couldn't even get her feet under her and stand.
"I could throw myself through the window." Travis leaned against the door for support, panting hard.
"No, you will not." She inhaled deeply. "Let's yell again at the count of three. One. Two. Three."
She screamed, "Help."
Her voice warbled under the strain until her throat spasmed, and she gagged. She had no idea how much time had gone by since Dean had left. It was probably useless to yell, hoping someone would hear her. Nobody lived in the apartments surrounding this one. Unit C was vacant and had been for years.
Plus, the rain outside muffled a lot of the noise. But she couldn't give up. She needed to get Travis out of here before Dean showed back up, pissed because he was lied to.
"What are we going to do when he comes back?" Travis pressed his head against the wall.
She wished she could help him. It'd taken everything out of him to get to his feet, and now he struggled with exhaustion and refused to sit back down. He never had to tell her that the chance of him getting back up kept him on his feet.
"Can you lock the door with your mouth? The little turn-thingy in the handle?" she asked.
He hopped, moving his body until he stood a foot away from the door. Grimacing when he hit his hurt nose going down, she sent up a prayer that Dean wouldn't come back, and someone would find them. By now, Wyatt had to know they were missing.
Afraid he'd look outside and on the streets like he had when Travis had run away before, she'd yelled until she was hoarse.
"I'm getting it," mumbled Travis, still working on the switch with his mouth.
"I know it won't stop someone from breaking down the door, but it'll at least give us a little warning before he busts in here."
"Got it." Travis straightened and pressed his shoulder against the door, using it for balance. "I wish my dad was here."
"Me, too, buddy. Me, too," she whispered, closing her eyes an extra beat. "He'll come."
She had to believe that. They only needed to stay strong while they waited. Meanwhile, she'd figure out some way to save them.
"What did you hide that belonged to your stepdad?" she asked.
"He's not my stepdad anymore."
"Right," she said softly.
Travis glanced at her. "Do you really want to know?"
She nodded. Whatever it was, it was important.
"It's a bag of drugs."
"What?" She gawked. "How...? Who's?"
"Dean's." His Adam's apple bobbed. "He forced my mom to take them, and it killed her."
"But she died in a car crash, and she
