writers muses - infinite possibilities
"Ms. Willows? It's Principal Harris from Butterfield Academy. We were wondering if you perhaps came by the school to pick Lindsay up and forget to notify us. We understand she's your daughter but our policy states..."
A whirlwind of thoughts ran rampant through my head at that given moment. I didn't even have to pick up the phone after seeing the schools name on the call display to know that something was wrong. They have never called me unless she was sick and needed my consent to take her to the clinic. The school was good that way, always keeping me in the loop.
So my first thought was that she took off with some friends, ditched school in favor of spending time at the mall. It had never happened before, but hell, she was almost eighteen, almost a graduate. I couldn't blame her for taking a lieu day before exams. I did it. Some professionals would argue it was healthy to skip the monotony of a regular day and spend time in the world for yourself. I'd like to think she would've called and told me in case the principal called me asking where she was.
But then I found out all her friends were still in the school.
My next rational thought said maybe she got homesick and decided spontaneously that she'd come home. Surprise me. So, I contacted all her friends here in Vegas that she might have asked to come get her at the airport or bus station and they hadn't heard from her since she was last down three weeks prior.
In between all my weighing, I called her cell. No answer. Not once. Forwarded to her voicemail.
Then I grew frantic. Memories of her getting abducted before raced through my head. What if someone kidnapped her again. What if someone watched her, mapped out her daily life for weeks before picking today to make their move. Again I tried her cell number. Nothing.
Now I sit here, waiting for someone to call her cell so Archie can pick up a trace.
My blood ran cold when a bright red circle started flashing on the screen. Pioche, Nevada.
What the hell is she doing in Pioche? A guy maybe? So many infinite possibilities when it comes to Lindsay Willows. My daughter. Me, twenty-eight years ago. Times may have changed but I remember my younger years and Lindz was definitely following along in my very own footsteps. I knew that much when she told me she was interested in being a stripper. They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
My stomach knotted when we followed the trace and was mildly surprised that it didn't change course once in our travels. It had to be a guy. Her and him in some dive motel..
We found her phone. In the umpteen voicemails that were left, this is what I heard.
"Catherine Willows. We've got your daughter. We'll call with our instructions and directions on how to get her back."
A whirlwind of thoughts ran rampant through my head at that given moment. I didn't even have to pick up the phone after seeing the schools name on the call display to know that something was wrong. They have never called me unless she was sick and needed my consent to take her to the clinic. The school was good that way, always keeping me in the loop.
So my first thought was that she took off with some friends, ditched school in favor of spending time at the mall. It had never happened before, but hell, she was almost eighteen, almost a graduate. I couldn't blame her for taking a lieu day before exams. I did it. Some professionals would argue it was healthy to skip the monotony of a regular day and spend time in the world for yourself. I'd like to think she would've called and told me in case the principal called me asking where she was.
But then I found out all her friends were still in the school.
My next rational thought said maybe she got homesick and decided spontaneously that she'd come home. Surprise me. So, I contacted all her friends here in Vegas that she might have asked to come get her at the airport or bus station and they hadn't heard from her since she was last down three weeks prior.
In between all my weighing, I called her cell. No answer. Not once. Forwarded to her voicemail.
Then I grew frantic. Memories of her getting abducted before raced through my head. What if someone kidnapped her again. What if someone watched her, mapped out her daily life for weeks before picking today to make their move. Again I tried her cell number. Nothing.
Now I sit here, waiting for someone to call her cell so Archie can pick up a trace.
My blood ran cold when a bright red circle started flashing on the screen. Pioche, Nevada.
What the hell is she doing in Pioche? A guy maybe? So many infinite possibilities when it comes to Lindsay Willows. My daughter. Me, twenty-eight years ago. Times may have changed but I remember my younger years and Lindz was definitely following along in my very own footsteps. I knew that much when she told me she was interested in being a stripper. They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
My stomach knotted when we followed the trace and was mildly surprised that it didn't change course once in our travels. It had to be a guy. Her and him in some dive motel..
We found her phone. In the umpteen voicemails that were left, this is what I heard.
"Catherine Willows. We've got your daughter. We'll call with our instructions and directions on how to get her back."