Disappear

When she was nineteen, however, nothing had meant more to Alexis than Esteban Garza. He was the only person she could think about. She’d met the handsome young social worker through a volunteer program in Peru. He was a teacher, doing incredible work high in the Andes, helping his people. She wanted to be his partner—his soul mate—and toil beside him forever. Everyone had been horrified at the thought of her moving so far from home to live with a virtual stranger, but Alexis had felt she was old enough to make such decisions on her own.

Her mother couldn’t say too much about Alexis’s plans because for years Selena Mission had filled her daughter’s head with romantic stories about Lima, Selena’s birthplace. The men were all handsome, the women gorgeous, the beauty of the country unparalleled. Alexis’s father, Robert, had had plenty to say, though.

“You’re too young. You don’t know what you’re doing… You’re throwing away your life, for God’s sake…” He’d followed Alexis out of the house the day she’d left, begging her to change her mind, then threatening her when she didn’t. “I swear to God, Alexis, if you get in that car, don’t bother to ever come back! No daughter of mine would do something this stupid!”

They’d always been close, so the fight with her father had been shocking to Alexis. Angry and ugly. She’d said things she hadn’t meant, and so, she hoped, had he.

One way or the other, she was about to find out, and then it’d be her time to beg…for forgiveness and understanding. Her throat tightened in anticipation. What if he ignored her pleas as she had his? Her mother was the one who’d written to Alexis. Come home for Thanksgiving, Alexis, she’d scribbled. We miss you terribly.

Knowing it would be easier to explain once she was there, Alexis had never replied. She’d simply packed her things and left. Controlling and critical, Esteban had been impossible to live with and impossible to please, his Latin machismo ingrained so deeply their relationship had been doomed from the very start. Her parents had realized that as soon as they’d met him; it’d taken Alexis a year to understand then another six months to admit it.

A commercial came over the car’s radio, the volume suddenly jumping, the holiday jingle loud and garish. She clicked off the noise then put the Mazda into gear and carefully backed up. The wheel felt huge in her hands, the brake pedal unwieldy.

In an hour, she reached Los Lobos.

Her parents and younger brother had moved to New Mexico right after Alexis had left for Peru. She didn’t know Los Lobos, but she’d seen thousands of towns like it in the years they’d moved around the country. Small and depressed, hanging on to what it’d been in better days. The community was still alive only because of the government think tank where her father and mother worked, along with some of the other top scientists in the world.

Alexis found the neighborhood and then the house. Driving slowly, she passed the brick home and circled the block with her nerves jangling. When she came back around, she slowed the car five houses down.

Her mother’s trademark Thanksgiving decoration was hanging on the front door. A diehard optimist, Selena Mission was a brilliant mass neuron scientist, but domestic tasks had always eluded her. Alexis and her father had always teased Selena unmercifully over the strange straw and pumpkin wreath, but seeing it now brought a quick sting to Alexis’s eyes.

She dashed away the tears then eased the car into the driveway and parked. Her heart jumped into her throat and stayed there, a lump that only seemed to grow larger. Finally, her hands shaking, she managed to open the door and get out.

On the porch, she paused. Should she knock? Should she ring the doorbell? Should she just stand there and pray someone would come? None of those options seemed right, and after a few more seconds of hesitation, she knocked once then opened the door and called out. “Mom? Dad?”

No one answered, but they didn’t have to.

Alexis had found home and she knew it.

The familiar furniture, the sound of the grandfather clock, even the spices filling the air—everything was known and dear. Alexis felt as if she’d been out to grab a gallon of milk at the corner store. The tightness in her chest dissolved and she started to cry. She pushed the door open wider and stepped inside.

“Mom? Dad? Toby? Anybody here?”

The only sound she heard was the ticking clock, the silence beneath it strangely empty. She walked through the living room and into the kitchen. The room was unoccupied but the oven was still on. Cracking the door open, Alexis bent over and peeked inside to see a turkey. The bird had been cooking way too long—the skin looked dry and the wings had already fallen off. With a puzzled frown, she turned off the heat and looked around. Two pies with lopsided crusts and dimpled tops sat by a window, which revealed an equally unoccupied backyard.

Stepping over a scattering of colorful blocks, her confusion grew as she glanced into the dining room connected to the kitchen. The old scarred table was set with the old unmatched china. For four, she noted with a catch, her own special glass sitting at the plate on the right-hand side. “Just in case,” Alexis could hear her mother say. A centerpiece Alexis had never seen was in the middle, but it had her mother’s stamp. No one else could arrange flowers that badly.

Alexis called out again as she headed toward the back of the house. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a den. All empty. She stopped at the door to what was clearly the guest room, her own childhood furniture in place. The bed had been turned back and there were fresh towels waiting in two neat piles on top of the quilted coverlet. Her mother had obviously been hoping Alexis might come, even though the invitation had gone unanswered. Alexis turned away, blinking.

What could have taken them away? With a feeling of dread, she had the sudden thought—had someone had an accident…or worse?

Dropping her purse on the chest in the bedroom, Alexis returned to the front of the house where the garage was located. To her surprise, two cars were parked inside. Feeling foolish but needing the confirmation, she went first to the one she recognized—her father’s truck—and then to the other one, a new sedan. The registration papers for both cars were exactly what she’d expected, her parents’ names listed in black and white.

Walking back into the living room, Alexis sat down, her unease growing. It was too weird, too strange. Where on earth could they be? She argued with herself, thinking up a million explanations for their absence, but none of them made any sense. A tiny voice in the back of her mind told her she was being paranoid, but she ignored it and called the local hospital, getting the name and number from a scruffy directory underneath the phone beside the couch. There was only one facility in town and it took them less than a minute to check. No one by the name of Mission had been brought in.

She waited an hour more then she went to the neighbors. On the left, an older couple lived. They’d seen nothing, they both said, but would she like to come in and visit until her folks got back? Alexis declined politely and went to the house on the other side. A younger woman answered the door, two crying babies at her feet. She’d just moved in the week before, she explained, and didn’t know her neighbors yet.

No one had seen anything. No one had heard anything. No one knew anything.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Alexis hurried back to the house, the evening air growing bitter. What could have made them take off like this? And how had they left? She entered the empty house, a chill coming over her that had nothing to do with the weather. She hesitated for only a second, then she picked up the phone and dialed 911.

The dispatcher didn’t know what to make of her.

“Your parents aren’t there? How old are you, sweetie?”

“You don’t understand!” Alexis said in exasperation. “I’m an adult! I’ve been gone—for a long time—and they invited me home for Thanksgiving. They’re not here, though, and I’ve been waiting for hours. Has anyone…well, called anything in?”

“What’s the address?”

“It’s 2550 Red Oak.”

Alexis could hear the tapping of computer keys.

“No calls have been made to that address.”

“Are you sure? Nothing at all?” She started to explain the circumstances, but she didn’t get far. The dispatcher cut her off with a curt question, another phone line ringing in the background.

“Would you like to file a report, ma’am?”

“Not…not right now,” Alexis said finally. “But I may call back and do that.”

“We’ll be here.”

Alexis slowly hung up the receiver. In Pricaro, the closest village to where she’d lived, there had been only one telephone. Meant to be used for emergencies, most of the time the line didn’t work at all.

She might as well have been back in the mountains for all the good the call had done her.

Reaching over, she picked up a photograph at the end of the sofa table. The picture had been taken at a picnic just after Toby’s birth. Selena was holding the baby, Robert’s arm slung casually over Alexis’s shoulders. She clutched the snapshot, her fingerprints leaving marks on the frame as she rose from the couch and drifted over to the window. Pulling back the curtain, she stared into the darkness.

Where were they?

ALEXIS PACED the living floor for twenty more minutes, then another possibility came to mind. Her parents sometimes worked strange hours—maybe something had come up at their office. It wouldn’t be the first time her mom had left the house with the oven on.

Hurrying into her father’s study, Alexis searched his desk for an address for the think tank. She found nothing but she wasn’t surprised. Her father didn’t bother himself with mundane little details like address books. With a groan of frustration, she slammed his desk drawer closed.

A pack of matches, obviously dislodged from somewhere at the back of the desk, fluttered down to the carpet. Alexis picked it up. Norman’s Service Station. Twenty-four Hours, Seven Days a Week. She opened it and inside, her father’s neat printing noted: “Grumpy but helpful.” Seeing his handwriting brought fresh concern…and then determination. It wasn’t much, but she knew no one in town. Memorizing the address, Alex dropped the matchbook, ran into the living room and grabbed her coat.

Praying the place wasn’t closed, Alexis found the gas station ten minutes later, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was open. She jumped from the car and ran inside. The temperature had dropped even more in the past hour and the wind had picked up. The chill cut into her skin and she started to shiver, trying to convince herself it was the weather and not her nerves.

An old man sat behind a grungy counter, his overalls spotted with grease stains, a filthy black cap covering his head. As Alexis came in, he tore his eyes reluctantly from the television set and a grainy football game, then immediately turned back to the screen. “We’re self-serve tonight—”

“Are you Norman?”

“Who’s askin’?”

“I need directions.” Alexis rubbed her cold hands together and blew on them. “To the Mansfield Operations Center. I’m Alexis Mis—”

“They don’t let visitors in there.”