Jason Browning was in quite a bit of pain but at least he was conscious. The paramedics had checked him out and assured him that barring some major headaches for the next few days, he was okay. Since he’d received a clean bill of health, Inspector Doubleday and his “cronies” were mercilessly questioning him.
“When was it, Mr. Browning, that you realized Taylor was missing?”
“I’m not exactly sure of the time. All I know is that I looked up and he was gone.”
“Did you see anyone suspicious lurking around Taylor?”
“No, sir. But there were so many people there – some kind of crafts festival or something. Taylor did mention that he thought some guy was watching him, but he dismissed it to paranoia. But I kept a close look out. That kids hard to keep with on his Rollerblades.”
“Just tell us what your remember, Jason,” Walker said.
“Well, I kept hollering for him to slow down but he kept going faster and faster. He gets his frustration out that way. Anyhow, he disappeared into a clump of trees. I decided to cut through and head him off. I made a left into that same clump of trees and was hit on the head.” He gingerly touched his scalp where the bandage was placed for added effect.
“That’s it? That’s all you remember?” the Inspector asked.
“Yeah, why?”
“I don’t suppose you could tell me why we should believe this story of yours?”
Jason frowned. “Excuse me?” He looked to Walker for support.
“Well, Mr. Browing,” Doubleday began. “Until we get some more evidence, the finger points to you. I’m afraid we’re going to have to take you into custody.”
“What?”
Walker stepped forward. “Wait just a minute, Doubleday! We’ve already been through this.”
Doubleday held his hand up. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hanson. I’m just doing my job.”
Isaac couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Your job sucks! Jason had nothing to do with this!” Diana tried to get between her eldest son and the Inspector. He pushed her away. “No, Mom! Listen here, G-man! Jason Browning is no more Tay’s kidnapper than I am. So, why don’t you take your incompetent ass out of here and find the real mother –“
Walker grabbed his son and looked straight into his eyes. “Ike!” he shouted. “You’re NOT helping! I know you’re upset but I’ll not allow you talk to the Inspector like that – although,” he turned to Doubleday, “he does deserve it. And I think your mother deserves a little more respect than for you to use that type of language around her. Now, you’d best get a grip before I send you to bed with the other children.”
The emphasis on the last word had really stung. Walker had always treated him like an adult and to hear those words come out of his mouth was more painful than any beating his father could ever give him. He pulled away from Walker and kicked the nightstand. “Dammit!”
Walker started to say something but was interrupted by Doubleday’s cellphone.
“Hello?” the Inspector said. A long silence followed. “And how many people saw this?”
All eyes in the room were on Doubleday.
“I see. Thanks.” He put down his cellphone and looked to Jason. “Mr. Browning, I’m afraid I have a bit of bad news. It seems that several eyewitnesses saw you and Taylor enter that same wooded area.”
“So?” Isaac said.
“Those same witnesses also report hearing a struggle.”
Jason’s face went white.
Doubleday approached him with a pair of handcuffs. “Mr. Browning, you’re under arrest for suspicion of kidnapping. You have the right to remain silent –“
The rest of the Hanson family stared in awe. Isaac, restrained by his father, made his objections known. “You can’t do this to him, dammit!”
Isaac watched as Jason was cuffed and taken out of the room. He shook himself loose from his father’s grip. “Dammit!” he screamed. “Dammit to hell!” He picked up the lamp from the table in the corner. With all the hatred he could muster he threw it toward a mirror that was hanging on the wall. The mirror and the lamp shattered into a million pieces. He collapsed onto his knees, crying. “Dammit to hell!”
The drive downtown in the rain had been a slow and nasty one. Noah was glad when he finally parked his Toyota Corolla in the underground parking lot of the Hyatt. He still couldn’t believe he’d come down here. Was he crazy? Did he really intend upon intruding into his friend’s lives for the sake of a story?
What story?
He laughed to himself. What had happened that morning would be hard to top. What story could there possibly here? Of course, Marshall McGuire had been in the newspaper business for some time. And he wouldn’t have sent Noah down here on a blind lead. Regardless, Noah felt crappy for coming.
He’d promised himself years ago that he’d not be like those other journalist. Noah had always been a man of integrity and compromise just wasn’t in his vocabulary. Although Marshall would probably fire him if he didn’t get the story, he would much rather sleep at night. He could find another job. Friends didn’t come so easy.
He sat at the steering wheel debating whether or not he should even go in. As nice as it would be to seem them again, how would he ever explain what had dragged him out this late in the evening? And when they did find out the real reason that he came, would they hate him?
The sound of his own voice startled him. “Get a grip, Barnes,” he said. “You’re arguing with yourself.”
He decided to take his chances. Noah opened the car door and climbed out. Still unsure of the wisdom behind his actions, he made his way toward the elevator.
The silence that surrounded Isaac Hanson in the third floor stairwell was heaven. He’d needed to get away. Well, needed wasn’t quite the right word. His father had made him leave after his little stunt with the lamp. He’d never seen his father so angry. Isaac was under strict orders not to return to their room until he had calmed down, which at this rate might be sometime in the late twenty-first century.
Couldn’t they just see that he was angry? Didn’t they know he was just worried about Tay? Okay, so maybe he’d let it all get to him – maybe he’d overreacted.
Of course, you overreacted, you bonehead! You made Zac cry. You scared the poor, little guy to death!
He ran his hands through his hair and sighed, sitting himself down on the second story landing. He didn’t hear the door open two flights below him. Someone was walking up the stairs.
You gotta keep that temper in check, Ike!
This was all just too much to have to deal with. The kidnapping attempt this morning had been bad enough, but now it had happened for real. And nobody, least of all Deputy-Freaking-Dawg of the FBI, seemed to want to do anything about it.
“Man, this is all screwed up!” he said aloud.
“What’s all screwed up?”
Isaac raised his head. A young girl around fourteen stood before him. She was cute in a dark, Marilyn Manson sort of way. Her skin was a pale white, bringing out her beautiful brown eyes. Isaac thought that under different circumstances he might enjoy gazing into them longingly. This was the kind of girl his mom and dad would not approve of him dating – which made it all the more tempting – even though she was a little too young for him.
Tay would have a fit over her!
She stood about as tall as Zac, with a slim build. Her long, beautiful dark hair hung down her back. She was dressed in baggy jeans and a long-sleeved, black T-shirt. Just when Ike started to think this girl might actually be cool, she got that smile on her face. It was the smile he’d seen a million times before over the last year or so. It was the smile that was always followed by –
“Oh, my god! You’re – you’re Isaac Hanson!”
Oh, great!
He forced a smile. “Yeah, I am. Who are you?” It didn’t come out right – he could tell.
She didn’t seem phased. “I just can’t believe it’s you! I love you! I’m like your biggest fan! I came down here cuz I heard you were staying here but I never dreamed I’d meet you face to face!”
“Look, uh –“
“Elizabeth. Elizabeth Barlows,” she said, making herself comfortable on the landing without being invited. “My friend’s call me Liz.”
“That’s great,” Ike said. “Uhh, Liz –“
She didn’t stop. “You know, everyone says that your brother Taylor is the cute one, but I think you’re the cute one. And then there’s Zac, but he’s like way too young for me, you know?”
“Liz?”
“I just like bought your new single, even though I already have the album – which is great, by the way. I’m going to your concert. I camped out for tickets – even though my parents threatened to ground me if I did but that’s okay –“
“Will you shut up?” Isaac shouted. He hadn’t meant to to raise his voice to her but the words came out before he could stop them.
Liz’s face changed. For a moment, Isaac thought she was going to cry. That was until her brown eyes began to burn into his soul and her expression changed from pale 14 year old girl to pale, 14 year old anti-Christ.
“Damn! Teen pop star goes postal. What the hell is your problem?”
Isaac looked into her eyes. “Look, Liz, I’m –“
“Save it, New Kid! I’ve got better things to do than hang out with you.” She stood up to leave, but stopped for a moment. “Here, I won’t be needing this anymore.” Liz opened her purse and pulled out Middle of Nowhere and tossed it down the stairs. The case shattered and the orange CD wobbled face down to the floor.
She started to walk up the flight of stairs to the third floor. Isaac jumped up to follow her. “Liz! Please wait!”
She turned to him – towering above him standing on the steps. “You know, I thought you guys were different. I really thought you were different! I thought you cared about people!” The tears were coming now.
Isaac opened his mouth to speak again but she stopped him.
“You know what these are, dip-shit?” She raised the sleeve of her shirt to reveal dark bruises in the middle of her arm. “You’re damn CD was what got me through drug rehab. I played it so much the doctor’s nearly went on heroin. The only thing that kept from giving it all up and slitting my throat was your music. I’ve written you at least a dozen times to thank you. But now I find out it’s all a bunch of hype. All you care about is that someone spent sixteen-freaking-ninety-eight for your CD.”
She wiped her face and turned away from him to walk up the stairs. He chased after her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Liz, I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m a jerk. But it’s kind of been a rough day.”
She glared at him, mascara running down her cheeks. “A bad day? What could you possibly know about having a bad day? Coming off heroine, Isaac – that’s a bad day. Not appearing on David Letterman for the thousandth time doesn’t exactly compare to that.”
That stung, but Isaac knew he deserved it. “Okay, I know. But Tay was –“ he stopped, choking back a few tears of his own. “Tay was kidnapped. We don’t know where he is.”
The anger in her face faded a little. “Taylor? Kidnapped? But I thought that guy got shot. I saw it on the news.”
“This was a different guy. He snatched Tay in the park.”
“Oh, man, Isaac. I’m so sorry.”
“I am too, Liz,” Ike responded. “Really. And call me Ike.”
She smiled uncomfortably as she grabbed a Kleenex from her purse. “Did I tell you?”
“What’s that?”
“My friends also call me super-bitch.”
He laughed. “You? I can’t imagine.”
“Smart ass,” she said, giggling.
“Look, Liz, I deserved all that you gave me back there. I shouldn’t have taken all this out on you.”
“That’s okay. I guess I just needed to blow up at someone. You were the lucky recipient.”
“You know, though,” Ike pointed down the stairs. “That poor CD did nothing to you. It was just a pawn in your evil, little plot of revenge.”
She giggled. “How can anybody stay mad at you?”
He laughed. “Oh, boy, just ask my parents. They threw me out of the hotel room.”
“Really? Tell me more.”
“Well, I cussed at the FBI guy, broke a mirror and a lamp –“
“I bet you’re cute when you’re angry.”
“Hey, I’m cute all the time.”
“Oh, man.”
“What?” Ike asked.
“I just realized what an obsessed fan I must have sounded like that back there. That must drive you crazy.”
“Don’t sweat it. We’re used to it by now. And you avoided the issue.”
“Which issue?”
“About me being cute all the time.”
“No comment.”
“Now who’s the smart ass?”
She looked around. “I guess that would be me.”
“Listen, about what you said back there about the drug rehab?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for sharing. I mean, I’m glad to know that our music meant that much to you. It’s good to know that someone appreciates us for more than just being cute.”
‘Well, I do think you’re cute.”
“I thought you said ‘no comment?’”
“Damn! Busted.” She smiled at him as they once again sat down on the steps. Isaac slowly felt the tension slip away as he and Liz talked.
“I don’t care who you are,” the stuffy desk clerk said. “My orders are that no one sees the Hansons.”
Noah was frustrated and trying not to lose his cool. “Look, would you just call their room? Please. I’m sure they’d let me see them if they knew I was here.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I simply cannot do that.”
“Well, thank you,” Noah looked at the man’s nametag – it said Richard. “You’ve been a big help, Dick.”
He sneered. “My name is Richard, sir.”
Noah offered an equally disgusting sneer. “I call ‘em like I see ‘em, Rich.” He turned to walk away but stopped. “Look, Richard, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I just really need to see Hanson. Are you sure there’s nothing you can do?”
Richard’s expression changed – the anger disappeared. “Honestly, sir, there isn’t anything I can do for you.” He leaned in closer, pointing to the right. “But I believe if you check out the game room you might find a pretty good lead.”
Noah turned to his left and smiled. “Thanks, Rich, you’re all right.”
He quickly made his way to the game room.
“You okay?” Ike asked.
They had been talking for a long time and suddenly Liz grew silent.
“I’m just thinking.”
“Thinking about what?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on, Liz,” Ike said. “No fair keeping secrets.”
She sighed heavily and thought for several minutes before answering him. “What’s it like, Isaac?”
He looked at her. “What is what like?”
“I don’t know,” she began. “What’s it like being beautiful?”
Isaac smiled. “Excuse me?”
“You and your brothers – you’re absolutely perfect.”
Isaac really laughed at that one.
“What?”
“That’s funny, Liz.”
She frowned. “Damn if I tell you anything ever again!”
Isaac straightened up. “I’m sorry, Liz, but what do you mean?”
“Well, you’re all so cute. Everybody loves you and wants to be with you.”
“You obviously don’t hang out on the Net, lots of Hanson hate pages out there.”
“Whatever,” she responded. “What is it like?”
“It was kind of a rush at first – I mean who wouldn’t love all those girls screaming your name? But it started to suck really fast.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it seemed like the majority of the fans,” he stopped. “Well, honestly it seemed that they just cared because we were cute. They’d scream like banshees, yell out marriage proposals, and lust after our bodies.”
Liz leaned back and eyed Isaac up and down. She smiled. “Well, the last part I can understand.”
Isaac rolled his eyes. “Knock it off.”
She giggled. “Sorry. Please proceed.”
“Well, we don’t meet many people like you – people who love us AND our music. There are people like you who’ve been truly touched by our music. Those are the people we really want to reach. Of course, the rest of them have made us famous. It’s kind of a catch-22.”
“Yeah, either way you end up getting rich.”
Isaac looked hurt. “Do you really think that’s why we’re doing this?”
“Well –“
Ike altered his voice to sound like a game show host. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Ms. Cynicism 1998! Come on, Liz. Isn’t there anything you enjoy doing – a hobby of some kind? A talent?”
She laughed. “Me? Talented?”
“Oh, come on, there has to be something.”
“Not really.” Liz closed her eyes. “I screw up a lot – I guess that’s a talent. My step-dad says I’m the queen of the screw-ups.”
“Your step-dad?”
“Yeah, he’s a jerk. He doesn’t care about me. He blows into my life long enough to tell me I’m a freak and a no-account. Then, he disappears again. You don’t know how good you have it, Isaac. People who don’t even know you care about you. I can’t even get the people who know me to care.”
“What happened to your real dad?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. He and my mom divorced some time ago when I was a kid. I don’t remember much about him.”
He said nothing. He just stared in silence.
“Did you know not one single guy I’ve ever dated has let me meet his parents? All the guys care about is whether or not I’ll put out. I don’t – but they all seem to think I do. I turned one guy down and now I have this reputation at school. It sucks, you know. It’s bad enough I look like a freak, but I’m a slut to boot.”
“But it’s not true, Liz.”
“People believe what they want to believe, Isaac. I can’t change that. I think that’s why I turned to drugs. I tried to escape. I guess I was hoping I would kill myself.”
“You’re better now?”
She laughed. “Better? Well, in the respect that I’m off the drugs, yes. But now I’m the freaky slut who’s a former drug user. It never ends.”
“Damn.”
“You know what makes it worse?”
“What?”
“I’m a Hanson fan.”
Isaac laughed. “Great!”
“I take a lot of abuse for liking you guys. But I don’t care. They don’t see what I see because they’re not capable of seeing it. I see and hear something special. There’s a message in your music that goes way beyond the words or the instruments. Your music has been touched by someone – it has power. Whether you realize it or not, you’re reaching people. And I love you for it because you saved my life.” Tears ran down her face. She absent-mindedly wiped them away. “Shit. Look at me.”
Isaac smiled. “I am looking at you, Liz.” He leaned in and gently kissed her on the forehead, putting his arm around her. “I think I’m looking at you like no one ever has before.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder and wept.
“One day, Liz, you’ll realize how incredibly beautiful and unique you are. One day you’ll be able to laugh at those people who think you’re nothing. And I damn well hope I’m there to see it.”
It wasn’t hard to see what Richard was talking about. Zachary Hanson was the only one the game room this evening. He was playing one of those cool flight simulator games that you actually sat in and were spun around in all different directions. He was just finishing up when Noah approached him.
The young boy smiled a smile that Noah could tell was forced. Zac wasn’t fooling anyone.
“Noah!” he screamed while running, a little unsteadily from having his equilibrium thrown off by the flight simulator, into Noah’s arms. The force knocked Noah backwards.
“Whoa, Zac! What’s up little man?”
Noah could tell that Zac had been crying and he wondered if he should mention anything about it. He decided it would be best just to let it come out on it’s own. Zac held tightly to Noah, tighter than a “little-boy-seeing-an-old-friend” hug would normally be. Something was up.
“What are you doing here, Noah?” Zac asked after finally letting go.
“I’ll explain that later,” Noah said. “You hungry?”
Zac smiled. “Am I hungry? Are you nuts?”
“How about a hot fudge sundae?”
“Alright!” Zac screamed.
Noah questioned the wisdom of giving an already hyperactive child more reason to be hyper, but figured that Zac had a high tolerance. Besides, he could go home tonight and leave him with Walker and Diana. He laughed to himself as they made their way into the hotel dining room.
They’d been sitting for about ten minutes, Zac poking and prodding – but not eating – his sundae. His face was ratting him out. Noah could tell something was up.
“Alright, Zac, give it up.”
Zac looked up. “What?”
“I may not know you like your brothers do but I can tell something is wrong.”
Zac sighed and put down his spoon. “Did you hear what happened to Tay?”
So that was it. “Yes, Zac, I did. It must’ve been pretty scary.”
Tears welled up in his big, brown eyes. “Why would anyone want to hurt us, Noah?”
Noah sighed. “I don’t know, little man. I really don’t know.”
“It’s just not right – I don’t get it.” He slammed his hand down on the table, inadvertently hitting his spoon in the process, sending it flying across the room. It landed two tables over with a loud racket. The people seated at the table glared at Zac. He shrugged apologetically. “I’m sorry.”
Noah stifled a laugh. “I don’t either, Zac, but at least they were able to stop the guy from taking Taylor, right?”
Zac looked at him as if he’d just spoken in some alien language. He wiped the tears from his face. “What are you talking about?”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”
“Some guy took Tay.”
Noah offered a nervous laugh. “No, he didn’t Zac. That guy was shot – at the TV studio. I saw the story on CNN.”
“This happened tonight. Just a few hours ago.”
“What happened?”
Zac started talking a mile a minute. “He went to the park with Jason so he could go blading and now he’s gone. The FBI guy thinks that Jason is involved because of some witnesses or something – they arrested him. Ike broke a mirror he was so mad – Dad made him leave the room to calm down.” He was crying again. “I left because everybody told me I was in the way and they don’t think I’m old enough to understand what’s going on. They won’t tell me anything. The kidnapper wants Dad and me to go somewhere tomorrow night to get further instructions.”
“Zac, do your parents know you’re down here?”
“No.”
“They must be worried sick. Let’s go upstairs.”
Zac shook his head furiously. “I don’t want to go back, Noah. I can’t.” His voice was growing in volume and panic level. The people in the dining room began to stare. “I just can’t deal with this. I want my brother back.” He got up to run but Noah grabbed him. Zac wrapped his arms tightly around Noah and sobbed. “I just want my brother back.”
Noah held on – he didn’t know what else to do. “It’s gonna be okay, Zac. I promise.”
Zac continued to sob. Noah loosened his embrace and gently pushed Zac away from him. “Look at me, little man.” His big, brown eyes were red and puffy -- tears were running down his cheeks. “I know you’re scared, Zacman, but you’ve got to be brave. You’ve got to be brave for Tay, and for your Mom and Dad.”
Zac nodded and rubbed his eyes.
“Okay, big guy,” Noah began, “let’s go see your folks.”
As they walked out of the dining room, neither one of them noticed the man who was seated at the table next to theirs. He had been paying close attention to the conversation – even taking notes. The man was from the Manchester Herald and their conversation was about to become front-page news.
The sound of his own stomach growling had woke Taylor up. He hurt all over now and every position he shifted his body to sent electric shocks of pain that made him wince. It was still dark and it had gotten colder down there. He shivered and tried desperately to find warmth. His wrist had already been rubbed raw by the ropes binding them.
His mind wandered back to what the man had said -- something about his father causing the man pain. What could he have meant by that? As far as Taylor knew, his father had never hurt anyone in his life. None of this made any sense -- it just wasn’t adding up.
Stop it, Taylor! Just stop it! Get up off your butt and do something!
Everything inside was screaming at him to get up and fight -- to try and get away. But his body was protesting to every movement he made. He slowly rolled over onto his side and winced at the pain it caused. The rope cut deeper into his wrists as he made his way to his knees. He stopped for a second to see how much grief he was going to get for making such a sudden movement. The price he paid was a spinning feeling in his head and a sharp jab of pain in his side.
Satisfied that he could go on without killing himself, he put one foot solid to the floor and somehow managed to stand up. Once again he stopped to make sure his body wasn’t going to protest too violently. Other than some dizziness and severe pain, everything was fine. He was thankful for the darkness this time because it kept him from seeing the room spin. Going from memory, he slowly walked toward where he remembered seeing the stairs, taking small steps.
So far, so good.
The darkness covered him like ink, making it seemingly more difficult to move forward. He could feel the chill of the concrete floor through his sock-covered feet.
This isn’t so bad.
He began to move a little bit faster – feeling a little cocky – causing him to crunch his toe on something solid, shooting pain through the one part of his body that hadn’t previously hurt. Taylor gently moved his feet over the object, trying to feel what it could be – his Rollerblades.
A lot of good they’re doing me here!
He continued on slowly until he felt himself touch the banister of the stairwell.
Yes!
He slowly moved around looking for the first step. Finding it, he raised his foot and planted it firmly. Leaning against the rail for support, he methodically began his ascent.
Jesse Lake was relieved to see his father’s van missing from the driveway as he pulled up in his jeep. It had been a long day at the warehouse he worked and he’d spent a good part of the evening packing at his apartment. He was leaving for college in two weeks. He had a few things he had to pick up at the house though and he figured his father would probably be out drinking.
Jesse would never admit out loud that the reason he was going to college in Tulsa was to get away from his father. But deep down inside, where no one could see but him, that’s what he thought. He loved his father dearly but he didn’t really like him. Things had been fine until Mom died. Before that his dad was just sad about losing his job at the oil-company.
That’s why they’d moved to Manchester in the first place – the promise of a new job for Dad. But that hadn’t worked out. Those had been lean years in which both parents did odd jobs to make ends meet. It was also the time that Karen Lake had started her battle with depression.
She simply hadn’t been able to deal with overdue bills and not being able to raise her son in an appropriate manner. The depression and anxiety consumed her weak and frail body, taking her life almost five years ago to the day. A part of Dad died that day too – a part he tried to replace with the bottle. He was drunk most of the time he wasn’t working and part of the time that he was. Jesse couldn’t figure how he’d kept his construction job as good a friend as he was with Jack Daniels. But somehow Abraham Lake managed to pay the bills.
“Jack” was the reason Jesse didn’t come around anymore. His father made an ugly, mean drunk. Bad things tended to happen when his father drank. The last time Jesse had been around he had gotten a broken arm for his trouble. It broke his heart because he did love his father -- he cared about him more than words could say. But that love only went so far. Jesse knew if he didn’t get away from him that love would turn to hate and he would never be able to go back.
A crack of thunder snapped Jesse out of his thoughts. He grabbed his McDonald’s bag and climbed out of the jeep. The little house he’d come to hate looked old and abandoned in the dark. It had a spooky feel to it with the rain pouring down around it. He approached the front door and fumbled with his keys. A chill swept through his body. He stopped.
Where did that come from?
It was warm and muggy outside -- a typical May Manchester evening. Then where had the chill come from? A feeling of dread overcame him as he unlocked the front door and stepped inside.
Chapter Five
Chapter Three
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