The Maze The Lost Labyrinth

CHAPTER 23



It was Wednesday. Amy hadn’t been home in two days, and she was apprehensive about how things would be when she saw Jamie again. As it turned out, that wasn’t a problem. Jamie wasn’t there. Amy was both disappointed and discouraged to see that his car wasn’t in the driveway. Wild thoughts and theories about where he might be and what he might be doing immediately sprang to mind, but she tried not to let her mind wander. Instead, she used the time alone to plan out her strategy, to consider what she would say when and if she discovered who had been leaving those notes.

A cursory inspection of the house showed that all of Jamie’s stuff was still there. He hadn’t packed a bag of any kind nor had he taken anything for an overnight stay. His red toothbrush was safely in the toothbrush holder, and his blood pressure pills were where she expected to find them in the medicine cabinet. All indications suggested that he planned on coming back. Maybe he had just gone to the store or to rent a movie or to the mall. Or maybe---.

She blocked the thought before it could take root in her mind. No good would come of it. The doorbell rang, giving her a welcome distraction from the mental images that were forming-images of flesh and lust and things going on behind closed doors that had no business going on.

She raced to the door, eager for the reprieve from her own imagination and froze with her hand on the doorknob. What if it was the person who was terrorizing her family?

“Get a grip, Amy. I kind of doubt whoever it is would just come right up to the house and ring the doorbell.”

She took a deep breath and tried to appear calm. However, nothing could have prepared her for what she saw. Judith was dressed in camouflage and armed with a paintball gun. Her hair was hidden beneath a camouflage doo-rag, and dark smudges of blackout formed horizontal lines beneath her eyes.

“Mom?” Amy stifled a laugh. “Oh my word!”

“Let it never be said that I’m not willing to help out a daughter of mine that’s in distress.”

“You look like Rambo.”

“Rambo’s a wimp!” Judith laughed. “If your little informant decides to show his face tonight, I’ll blast him. Now where are we going to hide?”

“We should hide inside the van. That‘s probably the safest option.”

“Inside the garage?” Judith sounded more than a little disappointed that they weren’t going to play commando on the roof or in the bough of one of the oaks in the front yard.

“The garage will keep us from being seen. We can see if someone approaches the house. If we get scared, we can lock the doors and drive away. If we decide to confront the person, we’ll be close enough that they won’t be able to escape.”

Judith nodded. “You’ve really been thinking this through.”

“Thinking is all I’ve been doing lately.”

“So let’s do it.” Judith produced a greasy brown paper bag that Amy hadn’t noticed initially.

“What’s that?”

“Hamburgers and fries. I thought of everything.”

Amy rolled her eyes and opened the van door. “Get in, Chuck Norris.”

It was dark by the time they’d finished eating. Amy turned the radio on at a low volume to help cut the boredom, but neither of them listened to the music. They didn’t speak much either. Both of them were nervous, anticipatory.

They didn’t have long to wait. At a little after nine o’clock, Judith spotted someone creeping across the driveway. Amy saw him too. He was going for the mailbox.

“That‘s our stalker?” Amy was confused.

“Who is he?” Judith frantically tried to get her paintball gun ready in the dark.

“Darrell Gene Rankin. He lives across the street. He’s always seemed like kind of a loner. I don’t know why he would do something like this. We‘ve never had much contact with him. We barely know him.”

“Maybe he’s tired of being alone,” Judith let the thought linger. “Maybe he’s been watching you and thinks that if he gets Jamie out of the picture---”

“You’re creeping me out, Mom.”

“I was just thinking.”

“Let’s go.” Amy watched as the heavyset man stepped onto the front porch and lifted the lid to the mailbox, but Judith was already out of the van and running toward the house. “Freeze!” She pointed the paintball gun at the intruder. “Don’t move a muscle!”

Darrell Gene did as he was told and raised his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry. I’ve made a mistake.”

“Turn around.” Amy wasn’t prepared for the expression on his face. She had expected to see someone who was bitter, resentful, angry. The man she saw might have been all of those things, but he was also remorseful and guilt-filled. Large tears the size of raindrops ran down his cheeks.

“Hold out your hand.” Judith noticed that Darrell Gene had intended to leave another note.

The big man did as he was told and gave her the scrap of paper.

“It was all a lie,” the note read. “Please don’t hate me.”

“Why did you do this to us?” Amy felt the rage built inside of her. “Do you know you’ve nearly destroyed my marriage?”

“I was jealous of what you had. It didn’t seem fair that your life should be so good while mine was so horrible.”

Amy grabbed the paintball gun out of Judith’s hands. “And you thought you’d wreck my life so you wouldn’t feel so bad? Is that it?”

Darrell Gene recoiled at the sight of the gun. He obviously thought Amy was going to shoot him.

“Be careful, Amy! It’s loaded.”

“Be careful?!? This man has been playing with my family’s future for the past week, and I don’t want to be careful around him. I really want to shoot him.”

“Please, don’t,” Darrell Gene blubbered. “I haven’t been myself lately. I haven’t been in control.”

“Don’t blame anyone else for the things you’ve done.”

“I’ve been trying to talk to God. I’ve wanted to ask for help. I did a very bad thing. Something much worse than the note.”

This stopped Amy cold, leeching the anger out of her. Darrell Gene was obviously a man who needed help, and he realized it.

“What‘s that in your hand?” Judith asked.

Darrell Gene shrugged his shoulders and gave them a pitiful looked that seemed best suited for a dog that knows it’s about to be whipped. He held his hand out to Amy. “I‘m really sorry.” He handed her Jamie’s wallet.

“Where did you get this? Where is my husband?”

“I’m sorry.”

Darrell Gene repeated that phrase over and over again.