My Wife Is Missing(30)
Maternal instinct took over. She grabbed Bryce by the arm, hard enough to make him yowl. Michael had done something like that once, grabbed Bryce by his wrist when he wouldn’t pick up his Legos. He’d given the arm a hard tug, then came a pop followed by a cry of pure agony. At the time, Natalie had thought it was an accident—Michael not realizing that the ligaments of a young child could easily slip out of place and get caught between the two bones of the elbow joint. While at the hospital, she heard the name for the injury: Nursemaid’s Elbow, which gave quite the free pass to dads everywhere. Back then she’d thought of that incident as nothing but overzealousness on Michael’s part, but now, in light of recent events, she saw it much differently.
He did it because he couldn’t control himself.
There was darkness inside him.
The memory of that trip to the ER came and went as Natalie dragged Bryce down the detergent aisle. Without being told, Addie stayed in lockstep with her mother, thank goodness for that.
She advanced several feet before daring a glance behind her. Please … please don’t be there, was her singular thought. She swiveled at the waist nonchalantly, feigning interest in the products on the other side of the aisle. But there he was—the man in the camo coat had followed them, and was approaching with a look of determination.
Terror flooded Natalie as she clutched Bryce’s hand harder. Addie took no notice of the man approaching them. She had smartly stayed close to her mother and Bryce because that’s what she’d been trained to do. But what training did the camo coat man have?
Maybe Michael hadn’t put the word out on social media to find his family. What if instead he’d hired someone with the skills to track her down? And what if the camo man, now only fifteen feet away, hunted more than animals? How the tracker had found her so quickly was irrelevant. The bigger question was if this store had a rear exit, or better yet, armed security.
Natalie hurried down an aisle that felt like the length of a New York City avenue. In her mind, the shelves on either side of her grew tall as those skyscrapers, boxing her in. God, how big is this Walmart? The answer was big enough for Natalie to dare a second glance behind her, because she wasn’t going to evade him.
Sure enough, Camo Man was still there and closing in fast, now taking quicker strides. Only twenty feet separated them. As he continued his approach, a flash of movement drew Natalie’s gaze to the man’s right hand, which had slipped innocently enough inside his jacket pocket. What was in there, she wondered? A knife? A gun? His piercing stare bore into her.
Natalie saw no chance for escape. He was gaining too much ground, coming too fast. Best she could do was scream for help. Coming to an abrupt stop, Natalie pulled her children in tight like a mother bird wrapping her wings around her chicks. She turned them a hundred eighty degrees so that they were now all facing the threat head-on. Her legs felt heavy, immobile. Watching with growing horror, Natalie observed the man slowly remove his hand from his jacket pocket. She caught a flash of silver, believing it to be the steel from some weapon. She felt a scream begin to materialize like a hurricane taking shape. She pushed the kids behind her—she would protect them at all cost.
Then she saw it. Not a knife, but the silver wrapper of a stick of gum. Camo Man removed the wrapper with one hand and slipped the gum into his mouth. The crumpled wrapper went back into his pocket. Natalie was stunned to see him walk past her, his face utterly placid, devoid of any hint of danger.
What the hell?
She was sure she’d seen it in his face, felt a threatening intent, but the beard now gave him a genial quality, almost like a gentle giant type. He looked right past her and the children, settling his gaze on the selection of detergents. Eventually, he grabbed an orange plastic jug of Tide from off the shelf, tucked it under his arm like a football, and headed contentedly on his way.
It wasn’t possible, Natalie told herself. She had watched him come at her with unmistakable hostility. What other motive could he have had but violence?
Still, she had to admit, perhaps she’d imagined it, just as she may have imagined Audrey’s odd expression at seeing Michael’s picture.
Sleep. God, she needed sleep.
“Anyone hungry?” Natalie asked, fake cheer in her voice.
Her breathing came in sputters as she tried to cool her engines. The kids had no idea she’d been alarmed. As far as they were concerned, their mother had brought them to the detergent aisle for no reason whatsoever, because they departed empty-handed. Now, they headed to her original destination—the beauty aisle.
“I want a cherry slushie,” said Bryce in answer to Natalie’s question about food. He’d spied the vending machine on their way into the store, already asked once, and got his answer.
“Slushies aren’t real food,” said Addie, parroting something she’d heard Natalie say in the past. Bryce was about to protest. If he raised a ruckus that might mean attracting unwanted attention. That couldn’t happen.
Camo Man might not have been the threat she perceived, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t constant danger.
“It’s fine,” she said to Bryce, feeling herself snap back into her body. “I’ll get you that drink on the way out.”
Addie sent her mother a look of indignation.
“Well, I want one too,” she said, exhaling a huff of air.
“Yes, of course,” said Natalie, remembering the pizza and Cokes she’d already fed them.