S2W45: “Time to Think”

© 2022 Phylicia Joannis

Ryan tilted his head back into the seat and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping well. Carmen had disappeared shortly after their night of drinking. He wasn’t sure what happened to her, but he could see the writing on the wall. He’d been holed up in a hotel room the last few weeks, too afraid to return to his apartment. He needed time to think.

Greg had called a dozen times, and, each time, Ryan sent him to voicemail. Zinnia had called too, but knowing what he knew about Miracle, how could he face her? He’d promised to get back to her right away, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her. Zinnia would have too many questions. Ones he couldn’t answer without admitting that his past wasn’t wholly behind him.

He’d finally mustered up enough courage to check his voicemail this morning. Greg had a job for him. Charles Jameson had disappeared from the hospital, and they needed to find him. Ryan sensed the final threats Greg left weren’t bluffs, and he’d promptly called him back, promising to find him.

Ryan had called every hospital in the city, but none of them had a patient by the name of Charles Jameson. Someone was protecting him. He wasn’t sure if it was the police or someone else, but he was headed to the hospital to see what he could dig up.

The taxi slowed at a red light, and Ryan looked out the window. He blinked in the midday sun, staring at something impossible.

“Stop the car.”

He didn’t wait for the driver to respond before exiting. He walked across the street until he was in front of the subway station.

“Miracle?”

She turned towards him, face streaked with tears that fell from very vibrant, very alive brown.

“Ryan? What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that.” Ryan licked his lips and thrust a nervous hand through his hair. If Philip found out about this . . .

“Who’s this?”

Ryan noticed the boy standing beside Miracle and raised his eyebrows. He was dressed in slacks that were way too big for his waist and a faded t-shirt. His face held a scowl and a pair of narrowed eyes. Where had he seen him before?

“Marcos, this is Ryan Parker. He was with me in the tunnels.” Miracle turned towards him. “Maybe you can help me? Zinnia told me you know someone who works at Donna Ellison’s house?”

Miracle was also wearing clothes that didn’t fit. The two of them made for an odd pairing, but Miracle’s story was even stranger. Ryan listened to it with growing apprehension. He knew what the Ellisons were capable of. And what they would do if they felt threatened. But maybe this could work to his advantage.

“I’ll take you to her house.” Ryan nodded his head in agreement. “I was headed there, anyway. My friend can get us inside, and once we’re there it’ll be easy enough to find her. But Miracle, are you sure you wanna do this?”

Miracle nodded. It was her funeral. Ryan crossed the street with Miracle in tow, back towards his waiting cab. Marcos followed behind them, but Ryan stopped him from entering. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

“I’m going with Miracle.” He made for the door, but Ryan stopped him.

“I’m not taking you with us.”

“Miracle can’t go alone.”

“She won’t be. She’ll be with me. Nothing will happen to her, I promise.”

“And I’ll be there to make sure you keep your promise.” Marcos made for the door again, but Miracle grabbed his hand. “Marcos, we don’t have time.” Marcos glared at him a full minute before stepping back. Ryan opened the door for Miracle, catching a whiff of something foul as she walked past him. He got in the front seat, and they headed to the Ellison’s estate.