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Chapter Nineteen
Noah
I wait five, and then ten minutes for McKenzie to finish in the restroom. After fifteen minutes, I’m starting to get impatient. The bus leaves in ten minutes, and if we miss this one, there’s not another one until tomorrow. Which, come to think of it, wouldn’t be the end of the world. We could get a hotel, or go back to theKairosand…
It’s taken her too damn long, and there’s a prickle of apprehension at the back of my neck. I stride over to the ladies’ room and knock sharply several times. When I don’t get an answer, I push the door open. There’s no one inside. The bathroom is completely empty, with no sign whatsoever of McKenzie. It’s like she wasn’t even here.
Fuck!I slam my hand against the battered metal stall door, startling a woman who had come in behind me. She quickly turns and scurries back out.
Cursing myself for letting McKenzie out of my sight even to go to the restroom when I knew someone was trying to kill her, I try to stay calm. I ask around the bus station to see if anyone saw a blonde American woman in the restroom or leaving it. But no one has seen anything.
There are a dozen buses lined up outside, and for a moment, I consider that she could have been forced onto one and be well on her way across the island by now. But although the waiting area is open-air, I think I would have seen her if she’d come this way. There must be another way out. I go back to the restrooms, which are located in the back. Sure enough, around the corner from the restroom is a door that leads into an alley behind the shops of the square.
I see a man sweeping several doors down.
“Did you see a woman leave about fifteen minutes ago? Maybe with someone?”
I don’t believe for a second she would have left of her own free will. And I’m terrified that whoever has been trying to kill her might succeed this time.
The man lowers his eyes, but not before I see fear, and recognition, in them.
“She’s my wife.” The impossible phrase, although a lie, sounds oddly right. “I’m afraid something happened to her. Please, if you know anything at all, tell me.” I press a twenty-dollar bill into his hand.
“I didn’t see anything,” he asserts. But I can see in his eyes that there’s more that he’s not saying. I try to hand him another twenty, and although he looks at it, he makes no move to take it.
“I don’t want any trouble. I don’t see things that don’t concern me.”
He frowns as a young woman appears in the doorway and says, “Father, has Johann come back?”
“Go inside,” he scolds before turning back to me. “If there was a woman, how do I know you are her husband?”
He’s seen her! I stumble over my words, trying to convince him so he’ll tell me what he knows. “Her name is McKenzie. She’s about five foot seven, soulful blue eyes, so beautiful it makes your heart hurt. If someone was forcing her, she might have not fought much—she tends to get panic attacks, and she thinks she’s not brave, but she’s really the strongest and most fucking amazing woman in the world.”
The man is staring at me, and I realize that none of this proves anything. I rack my brain, trying to think of something that will convince him. “She was wearing an anklet I gave her. It had a padlock and a key on it. I got it for her so she’d remember she belongs to me, but dammit, she’s the one who owns me, and if anything happened to her…”Fuck.I’m babbling again. “Please! You have to believe me. I’m afraid she’s in danger, and I have to get to her.”
“I believe you,” he says with a small smile. “No one talks about a woman like that unless he loves her.”
I don’t have time to consider his words. “What happened? Where did she go?”
“I don’t know. My son, Johann, came running inside and told me two men had kidnapped an American girl and were putting her into the trunk of a car.”
“What kind of car? Did you get the license plate?” I fire off questions, trying to ignore the fingers of dread that are squeezing my heart.
He shakes his head. “I have a family. I can’t get involved.” He studies me intently, and his gaze softens. “But I also have a wife and daughter, and I can’t stand by and do nothing. I told Johann to follow them on his moped and find out where they took her. Then we will call the authorities and let them handle it.”
“There’s no need to call the authorities,” I say, my voice steely. “I’ll handle it. Where is your son?”
“He’s not back yet. You’ll have to wait.”
The minutes pass interminably slowly. Finally, a boy of about sixteen rides up on a beat-up moped. He glances from me to his dad.
“It’s okay. This is the woman’s husband. Where is she?”
“They took her to the Promenade Hotel. There were two men. Her wrists were tied and she was blindfolded. She was struggling to get away.”
I feel like I’ve just been stabbed in the gut.
“Do you have a car?” I ask the man.
