No Cry For Help by Grant McKenzie Read Free Book Online Page B

that were interfering with his brain, slowing him down, making him unable to think. Despair was a slug that curled inside your head, growing fat upon worry and regret. But Wallace knew he had to keep it at bay. His life, and the lives of his family, was forfeit if he allowed it to feed.
    As he shampooed his hair, picking out chunks of dried mud and broken twigs, he heard the bathroom door open and, a short moment later, close again. He rinsed, shut off the water and pulled back the vinyl curtain.
    A fluffy towel lay atop a pile of fresh clothes folded neatly on top of the toilet lid.
    Wallace dried himself and dressed. Crow’s clothes were a close match. The pant legs were two inches too short, but they fit in the waist and were comfortable. The T-shirt was short-sleeved and loose just the way he liked it, and the fresh socks were warm and perfect.
    He returned to the kitchen, but stopped short when, instead of Crow, Delilah stood in a fluffy housecoat and fur-lined sheepskin moccasins, frying a pan of bacon on the stove.
    Delilah turned when she heard him and her face radiated everything that Wallace was trying so desperately to keep bottled up deep inside.
    She ran to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing him so tight he could hardly breathe.
    “Crow told me about Alicia and the boys,” she said. “Who would do something like this? Why?”
    “I don’t know . . .” Wallace had to fight not to break down then and there. He wanted to drop to his knees, bury his face against her stomach and collapse into a blubbering mess. Instead, he gently pushed her away and wiped at his eyes. “. . . but I aim to find out.”
    Delilah stepped back and looked up into Wallace’s face. His pain was etched too deep to be hidden. She studied his eyes for a moment, then gently patted his chest and returned to the stove.
    “I’m making you boys breakfast to go,” she said. “You’ll need your strength.”
    She turned to take in his clothes and nodded her approval.
    “Crow’s feet are smaller than yours,” she said. “Your shoes are in the sink. I washed all the gunk out of them and stuffed them with newspaper, but they won’t have time to dry.” She pointed to a deep drawer beside the fridge. “Take two grocery bags, slip one over each foot before you put on your shoes. That’ll work for now.”
    “Thanks.” Wallace made another attempt at a smile. It was weak, but it softened his face just enough. “I appreciate all you’re doing.”
    Delilah’s eyes watered and her lower lip twitched as if she wanted to say something more.
    “It’s okay,” said Wallace. “I may look it, but I’m not going to break.”
    Her voice was quiet. “This may sound odd.” She hesitated. “But do you ever look at Alicia’s Facebook page?”
    “Facebook?” Wallace was puzzled. “That thing on the computer?”
    Delilah nodded. “It’s a social networking site. It’s how all us moms communicate now. You know? The kids are in school, who’s free for coffee? When? Where? Alicia and I love it. She posted about going to Bellingham. Then about finding a great deal on a new skirt at the mall. She even posted a photo of it.”
    Wallace held up a hand to stop her. “How did she post something from the mall?”
    “From her cellphone. Most of the new ones can connect directly to the ’Net. You can Tweet about where you are, what you’re doing, everything. Alicia was always doing it.”
    Wallace shook his head. “Alicia didn’t take her cellphone. I was nervous about roaming charges.”
    “But she must have,” said Delilah. “I saw the photo.”
    “Can you show me?”
    Delilah led the way out of the kitchen to a small alcove in one corner of the informal dining room that housed a compact all-in-one computer with a seventeen-inch screen. This was Delilah’s only private area in the house and it offered her no privacy at all.
    Delilah wiggled the mouse to bring the monitor to life and then launched a web browser.