My Wife Is Missing(65)
Natalie shifted her focus from the sky to the road, keeping a lookout for the bus while trying to ignore her children’s ongoing complaints. Eventually (thank goodness!) a shuttle arrived, rumbling to a stop precisely at the scheduled time. The kids boarded first, moving nimbly up and in, finding seats in the back. Natalie struggled to get her heavy bag up those same stairs. Unsurprisingly, the surly driver wedged in her seat didn’t offer a smile or assistance.
After storing her luggage, Natalie settled herself behind the children, where it would be easier to keep an eye on them. She tried not to dwell on how the misfortune of others, the terrible accident that had called the trooper away, spared her a near disaster. Even so, her name was probably flagged in some system, and a database search could easily reveal that she’d returned her rental to the Avis location at the airport. From there, Michael would check with every rental company in and around Columbus to find her next ride out of town. Damn. How to get away?
Natalie’s anxiety felt like it sprouted wings and took flight. What would Michael do to her and the children if he found them?
She knew. In her heart, she knew.
It took thirty minutes in adult time—a thousand years, kid time—to get a new car from Hertz. Natalie ignored the steady grumbling and complaining of her charges as she loaded the luggage into the back of a blue Nissan Rogue. The kids cried out with delight when they drove by a Johnny Rockets located within the airport confines. Natalie made a U-turn. They had to eat.
A strong odor of grease greeted Natalie upon entering the restaurant. The smell made her pause. She knew strong odors could be an asthma trigger, but the kids were protesting too loudly for Natalie to make good on her suggestion they go elsewhere. She was also tired of fighting, so tired in general, that it was easy to ignore her better judgment. She allowed Addie to pick a booth in the back. At least they were away from the kitchen and that smell.
Both children ordered cheeseburgers from a chipper waitress with a welcoming smile that fit the Midwest stereotype. Natalie drank black coffee and later wolfed down a Snickers bar in a bathroom stall, hoping the sugar would give her a quick boost of energy. While the kids busied themselves with their iPads, Natalie desperately wanted to ditch the new rental and find some other way to get to Kate’s farm—a way that would make them harder to track. They still had some five hundred miles to go.
The food arrived minutes before the kids started eating each other. Both plates of burgers and fries looked dishwasher-clean in a flash. If Natalie hadn’t had to hunt down her waitress to get the check, she might not have seen the airport shuttle bus rumble on by. As she returned to the table, she realized that sometimes the most obvious answer was the easiest overlooked.
Natalie used her Tracfone to search the Greyhound website for one-way trips departing from Columbus. There was a bus leaving at 11:45 that night, which would get them to St. Louis at 6:30 the following morning. A second bus would take her to Wentzville, and from there they could catch a cab the rest of the way to Elsberry.
Good luck tracking that, Michael, she thought, smiling to herself.
Natalie’s smile vanished quickly when Addie glanced up at her mother, scowling.
“I want to see Daddy today,” she demanded.
Bryce got in on the action, nodding his vociferous agreement as if the two had planned a mutiny while she went for the check.
“Soon. I’ve told you that,” Natalie said.
“But when is soon? I miss Daddy and I want to see him now.”
Addie choked down a sob, her cheeks flushed with red.
“We have to do a little more traveling.”
“I’m tired of traveling,” Addie whined. She gulped down a breath, her chest heaving beneath her pink cardigan.
Natalie felt a familiar pang of anxiety inside her. The grease was bad enough, but now, agitated, Addie could easily suffer an attack. Addie tried again for a good breath, but coughed twice. Natalie shot to her feet and gripped her daughter’s bony wrists in her hand.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?”
She knew the answer was no, and sure enough, Addie struggled to get out the word herself. Each shaky breath Addie took in was soon followed by a wheezing exhale. Terror bloomed in Addie’s eyes. She placed her small hand to her chest as if that would ease the pressure building inside her. Natalie searched for, and eventually found, the rescue inhaler. Addie placed her lips around the mouthpiece and took in a blast of albuterol, which should have smoothed the swollen tissues inside her airway.
Somehow, Natalie had the wherewithal to toss two twenties on the table before she dragged her daughter from the booth toward the door. The medicine might not be enough.
“Bryce, let’s go!”
Natalie barked her order while keeping her head on a swivel, looking to her daughter, then to her son, who was lagging behind. Each step brought a strangled new breath that only served to heighten Addie’s mounting terror. Natalie’s heart seized when she saw her daughter’s near-bloodless complexion. The medicine should have put some coloring back in her cheeks by now.
Natalie got everyone settled in the car.
“How are you feeling, honey?” she asked, her voice drenched with worry. In answer to her question, Addie took another blast from her inhaler before exhaling a shaky, wheezing breath.
“It’s not working,” she croaked with panic.
Addie puckered her lips, sucking hard, only to get down sips of air.