My Wife Is Missing(36)
And soon after, another news story would take place.
A family annihilated by their father.
Natalie often wondered how it might end. Would it be a murder-suicide, or was Michael too weak to take his own life? Probably he’d try to blame it on an intruder before the police put the cuffs on him. Either way Natalie, Addie, and Bryce would all end up in the afterlife, if such a thing existed.
That’s why she had to get the kids to Missouri, to her friend Kate’s farm. In a roundabout way, Kate owed her. It was Kate Hildonen who, many years ago, had suggested they go to the party where Natalie met Michael. No party would have meant no Michael; no threat to her life. Kate owed her all right.
Natalie and Kate had lost touch over the years, but Facebook is a fabulous connector. In her messages Natalie kept it vague, revealing only that she and the kids were driving to St. Louis to meet family and could easily detour to Elsberry for a visit. Kate wouldn’t dig into that story, though if she did, it was possible she’d find out that Natalie had no family in St. Louis.
She’d send Kate her new phone number in the morning, in case she saw a social media post about a missing family. Kate would call her and she’d explain the situation, at least in part. Once they were together, perhaps over a bottle of wine, Natalie would reveal the whole truth behind her unexpected visit. The real story would be far easier to digest in person, she reasoned.
From the safety of Kate’s farm, Natalie would be able to plan her next move, map out her escape. She’d file for divorce. What she had on Michael might not put him behind bars, but it would be enough to grant her sole custody of Bryce and Addie. She was counting on it. Then, she could start the process of rebuilding her life anew.
That’s how the story went in her head anyway.
It was almost midnight, but thankfully a night manager was on duty. Natalie took the kids with her into a wood-paneled office that had the feel of a 1970s basement. The portly man reading a newspaper behind the desk reeked of cheap cigars. He didn’t ask any questions. His eyes didn’t linger on Addie and Bryce. If he were at all suspicious, he kept it well disguised.
Natalie gave the room key to Addie. It was a real key attached to a big plastic keychain, and the novelty wasn’t lost on the children, who went racing ahead to room 237 with gleeful innocence. Her poor kids were in the middle of all this, like it or not. And even if Natalie could explain the danger they were in, it was unlikely they’d believe it or be able to comprehend it.
Natalie brought the suitcases from the car into the room, along with the three bags of new purchases she had picked up at Walmart, including a new stuffed bear that Bryce lugged around like an obligation.
The kids had used up all their excess energy on the novelty key, so by the time they got the door unlocked, there was no magic left in them. After putting on their pajamas and doing a haphazard job of brushing their teeth, each child fell into bed with the thud of a fallen tree. There were two twins; Natalie would sleep with Bryce.
Little Bryce said, “Will we get to see Daddy tomorrow?”
Natalie’s heart did a stop/start. She brushed his cheek tenderly, gazing into those beautiful coffee-colored eyes he inherited from his father—a reminder that there’d always be a part of Michael with him, no matter what happened.
“Maybe not tomorrow, love,” she said, stroking his cheek as he clutched his new bear. “It’s been a long day. Let’s get some sleep.”
No sooner did their little heads hit the pillow than it was lights out for them both.
Natalie was not so fortunate. She did her evening ritual of soaps and creams, and brushed her teeth in a bathroom that was the size of a broom closet and dirty as a roach trap. She was worried about dust mites and other allergens that might trigger Addie’s asthma, which was often worse at night. She turned up the heat, not sweltering, but warm enough to keep her daughter’s airways from cooling too quickly. She regretted not bringing bedsheets from home, or at least a sleeping bag. It was an oversight she blamed (as usual) on exhaustion. If need be, she could use pillows to help elevate Addie’s head. For now, all seemed fine, and Natalie kept the inhaler on the bedside table within easy reach.
When her prep was done, Natalie got into her pajamas, realizing they were the ones she should have been wearing to bed in the far nicer hotel in New York City. Had it really been seven hours since they’d left Michael?
She crawled into bed next to Bryce, who slumbered peacefully beside her. She stroked his fine hair and hoped the sound of his gentle breathing would soothe her to sleep. By this point, she should have been beyond exhausted, but the adrenaline hadn’t quite worn off, and thoughts of Camo Man continued to trouble her. How had she been so wrong about him? The threat had felt so visceral to her, so real. Worry nagged at her. She was the one person her children depended on to keep them safe. What if her instincts couldn’t be trusted?
That notion bounced around her brain, making sleep all but impossible. Natalie gazed at the dark screen of the small TV resting on a bureau across from the bed, thinking she might turn it on. Then she thought again. There could be news reports. One of the children might wake up and see their faces on the TV.
Tomorrow, in the light of day, Natalie would make sure the kids wouldn’t be so easily recognizable. For now, she’d do what she always did this time of night: dream of sleep, pray for it, because she knew that going without for too much longer would put them all in a different sort of danger.