My parents still aren’t answering the phone,” said Treen, staring at her cell as Ariel sped towards St. Barron Road.
“I hope we’re making the right decision by going to the house first.” Ariel glanced down at the Tail Tracker map in Treen’s lap. Lance had left St. Barron Road a short time ago and was now headed down the highway. “We can still turn around and go after him,” he said.
She exhaled loudly. “No, keep driving to the house. Just because my parents aren’t picking up the phone doesn’t mean he’s done something to them.”
However, Ariel knew something was wrong. Not only because Edwin and Elizabeth hadn’t answered, but also from the slight quiver in Treen’s voice and the way she’d been twisting her earlobe — things Jazz did when she talked about Shainy. He turned down St. Barron Road then pressed hard on the accelerator.
The Humvee rolled into the cul-de-sac. Treen shut the laptop then snatched her house key from her pocket. Before the vehicle had completely stopped, she opened the door and leaped out. Before Ariel had turned off the engine or clicked off his seatbelt, she’d sprinted up the walkway, unlocked the door and burst inside the house.
Treen jogged down the hall towards the living room, shouting for her parents. Ariel raced in behind her and immediately launched himself up the staircase. So far, the only noise in the house was the noise they made themselves.
After a ten-minute search of the downstairs area, it was obvious that her parents weren’t there. Ariel thumped down the stairs and jogged into the living room where Treen stood glaring out of the patio doors.
“Jazz, everything’s in order upstairs,” he said breathing hard. “Down here also. There’s no sign of a struggle. My mothers car
is not in the garage, and their cell phones are off.”
“Maybe they went to Bookvilla?”
She shook her head. “I called there.”
“What now?”
“We’ll wait here a bit longer to see if they come home or call.”
“If they don’t?”
Gradually, Treen turned around. Her green eyes had faded a shade darker. “Then we’re going to get Lance.”
Treen opened the laptop and displayed the Tail Tracker map, which now showed Lance parking somewhere along the highway. She glared at the blinking red light, wondering where the heck her parents could be.
“Come on,” said Ariel, grabbing her hand, “I’ll buy you a Pavaloo.”
“Sounds great.”
Before they moved to the kitchen, they took off their jackets, locked arms, and strolled down to the coat rack near the front door. It would be the last stroll they’d take for a while.
Ariel hung his jacket on the iron coat rack, then turned away to stretch. Yet, as Treen shuffled through the other coats for a hook, she noticed a tan leather strap, hanging across a dark blazer. She pulled the blazer open, where the purse was tucked inside. Frantically, she untangled the strap, snatching the purse and blazer down. She knelt and shook the contents of the purse onto the floor.
Ariel didn’t have to wait to hear who the items belonged to because he’d seen Regina carrying that purse before. Once the purse was empty, they stared at one another as if they’d found the items among the wreckage of an airliner — a doomed flight in which they had no idea Regina was a passenger.
“House keys, car keys, money, credit cards — all here.” said Treen.
“Jazz, it’s time to go after him.”
“Put Regina’s things back in her purse. I’ll grab the laptop.”
Treen jetted back from the living room. They snatched their coats off the rack then dashed out the door towards the Humvee, convinced that Lance had kidnapped her parents and Regina. Once again, Ariel sped off down St. Barron Road while Treen opened the Tail Tracker and glared at the blinking red light.
Lance’s car had been parked for sometime, but was now moving on the highway towards Blue Neptune. With his radar gun scanning the road for police, Ariel pushed the Humvee to 95 mph. At that speed, it wouldn’t take long to catch up to him.
After several miles of weaving between cars and rigs, Treen pointed up ahead: “There he is!” Ariel accelerated until he reached the bumper, then realized that the Alees might be in the car. He decided against ramming Lance off the highway and into the woods. Ariel pulled up alongside the car and Treen lowered her window. When Lance saw them, he waved and smiled like a little boy whizzing past his parents while on an amusement ride. Treen signaled him to pull over and he did so immediately.
Lance was already waiting outside his car when they stepped out. Treen stormed up to him and ignored his greeting.
“Where are my parents and Regina?” she shouted.
“What is this, a traffic stop?” he asked chuckling. I have no idea where your parents, or Regina are. Actually, I left your home not too long ago; I went there to ask your father some questions about my new job but no one answered the door. I waited outside for a while then I left. Why are you harassing me? Has something happened to your parents?”
“Maybe you can answer that question,” said Ariel, looking inside the car. “Open the trunk.”
“Why?”
“Because my mother and father have disappeared.”
“And what makes you think — ”
“Just open the trunk!” Treen shouted. “Very well.”
Lance turned towards the trunk and took the key from his pocket. They stood on either side of him, watching as he unlocked and flung up the lid. However, when they peered into the spacious interior, not a spec of dirt littered the carpet inside. Lance stepped back and crossed his arms in front of him.
“Are you happy now?” he snarled. “May I go?” Treen and Ariel glared at him, as he slammed the trunk, got back in the car, and screeched away.
“That little Einstein is beginning to heat up my circuits,” said
Lance, driving through downtown Mallyview. “How did she find me on the freeway? She couldn’t have been near the house when I had her parents removed — she and that idiot cowboy would’ve tried to prevent it...”
Suddenly, in the middle of heavy traffic, Lance stomped on the brakes. His car screamed to a halt in the two-lane road, with the vehicle behind skidding to avoid a smashup. Although the car had stopped inches from Lances bumper, the close call sent the driver into a rage.
“What the hell are you doing!” the man shouted, leaning from the window and shaking his fist towards Lance, who’d stepped out of the car. “There’s nothin in the road — get out of the way you idiot!”
“Idiot? I just used that word,” said Lance, calmly closing the door. With his hands on his hips, he glared at the man.
“Did you hear me?” the driver yelled, “I said get out of the way you jerk!”
Lance adjusted his tie, grinned, then stroked his goatee. Hands in his pockets, he strolled over to check out the man’s car.
“Nice Mercedes,” said Lance, examining the shiny black hood. “Let’s make sure you didn’t damage anything.”
“What are you talking about?” said the man, still in his seat, “My car didn’t hit yours.”
Lance ignored him. Then, as if he were petting a Persian cat, he glided his fingers over the hood. The sound of horns echoed through the street, as the traffic jam continued to grow.
“There it is,” said Lance, placing his fingertips beneath the edge. “I knew something was broken.” Suddenly, Lance jerked up on the hood, shattering the latch. He then grabbed each side and rocked it wildly, twisting the metal around until every nut, bolt and hinge popped loose. With the mangled hood now in his hands, he stormed to the window and glared inside the car. The terrified man had sunk so low, he could barely see over the steering wheel.
“Sit up!”
The man sank even lower.
“Tell you what, I’m going to make some noise until you comply.”
Lance raised the hood above his head then clanged it down on the top of the car. He repeated the unbearable racket until the man sat up and shouted, “Alright! Alright!” His hands shook as he shielded his face.
Gripping the hood with one hand, Lanced glared down at the