“Joe!” I cried out.
He swore and gunned the gas, and we started to slide. I looked back out the window and saw that the driver of the Humvee apparently had the same notion when he saw us. I watched the army vehicle race down the road and weave as he tried to avoid the mound of snow and ice. But instead, the Humvee crashed into it head on, the snow falling onto its hood and covering the window.
“Drive, dammit!” Roxy yelled. Despite the heavily falling snow, I could see the headlights of the Humvee rock back and forth as the driver tried to steer it free.
“Eat that, asshole,” Joe said, driving down the road as fast as he could while still controlling the truck on the ice. I saw one soldier get out of the Humvee with a long rifle and try to aim in our direction, but then we were off the road and onto the state route.
We crunched along, and Roxy patted Joe’s arm. “You did good.”
“Keep looking back,” he said. “They’ll be radioing in for anyone else to follow. It will be even more treacherous on these mountain roads. And it’s night. I’ll go as fast as I can, but the last thing we need is to end up in a ditch.”
“Been there,” Roxy said, holding up a finger, her eyes closed.
We drove in silence, the wipers pushing aside the snow that continued to fall, the pine trees rushing by in the dark.
“Joe, I’m so sorry,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry you’re caught up in this.”
“Miss Lynn, looks like I’ve been part of this for a long, long time, even if I didn’t realize it. I… can’t believe it….”
“How are we on gas?”
“I keep reserves in the wintertime, so I filled up before I started clearing the streets this afternoon. I have a reserve tank too. We’ll be fine to get to Denver.”
“What’s to keep them from following us from above? Helicopters? Planes?”
“Would be hard to follow from the air in this blizzard. It is the government, however. They’re probably tracking us by satellite at this very moment, following my cell signal.”
“Do you have one? In the truck?”
“In the glove compartment.”
Roxy opened the latch and pulled out the phone, handing it back to me. I powered it up and found it had no service. I shook my head and looked over to Roxy, who was clenching her eyes in pain.
“We’ll get you to a hospital as soon as we get into the city.”
“No,” she said. “We’re going straight to the airport, getting you and little man on a plane.”
“They’ll expect that. They’ll have people waiting for us there. I have to be able to make a call. Just one call.”
I knew Joe was doing the best he could in the conditions, but it felt like we were moving at a crawl. I kept looking back, expecting to see glaring headlights, or hear the thumping whirl of helicopters above.
We drove on, the snow pelting the windshield, the wind rushing against the glass. Roxy sat with her eyes closed, and Joe kept whispering to himself, shaking his head. I held tight to William, and constantly looked in the rearview mirror.
It seemed like an hour later, but we finally reached the highway. “Honey,” I whispered to William.
The boy had curled up deep under my arm, dead asleep. Delicately, I touched the camera app on the phone and took a quick photo, hoping the flash wouldn’t wake him. As I looked at the sweet image of the sleeping boy’s face, my heart leapt at the three strong bars of service.
I quickly dialed, and held my breath as it rang.
“Hello?” Tom answered immediately.
“Tom,” I turned to face the window, speaking softly.
“Lynn? Jesus, are you OK? Where are you?”
“Listen to me. I can’t speak loudly. I have William. Do you understand? I have William.”
“What?”
“I am in Colorado approaching Denver. I am going to send you a picture you must immediately share with Anne and Chris. Roxy is banged up bad and we’re heading for a hospital. Tom, William is alive.”
“Lynn, honey, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just tell me where you are—”
“I love you, Tom, but I’m hanging up. Look for a text from this number. I have many calls to make, then I’ll call you back.”
“Wait, who are you calling—?”
“I love you,” I said, and hung up.
The phone immediately rang with Tom’s number appearing. I ended the incoming call, touched the picture of the photo, and texted it to his number. He called again, and the phone made a swishing sound as the text went through.
A few seconds after the text went out, the phone stopped ringing.
I pulled up Safari and quickly typed, pulling up a number of different websites.
“You finally learned to use another app,” Roxy observed, with a pained voice.
I touched one of the numbers that appeared, and I held up the phone to my ear. The phone rang three times before someone answered, “KUSA-TV, can I help you?”
“Is this the NBC station? Do I have the newsroom? My name is Lynn Roseworth, I am the wife of Senator Tom Roseworth of Tennessee. My grandson William has been missing for several months. Are you familiar with the story? Good. I am calling to tell you that I have located my grandson here in Colorado, and we are driving to the Denver Emergency Center, where I will be bringing him in to be evaluated. That’s right, my grandson. The one who is missing. I am calling every television station in town, as I intend to make a brief statement after we arrive. I will also be sending you a photo of my grandson for verification purposes. I will call again as we approach the hospital. You can call my husband’s press secretary within the hour to confirm that I have spoken with him. I hope you’ll be there. I can be reached at this phone number as we drive into Denver, but if I don’t answer, it’s because I’m calling your competitors. I hope to see your crew there. What is a good phone number to text you this picture?”
When I hung up and began to search online again, Roxy painfully leaned forward. “What in God’s name are you doing?”
“It’s our only protection. If every TV station and newspaper sees that William is alive with me, they can’t try to take him from us. It’s the only way.”
“What exactly are you going to tell them when we arrive?” Joe asked quietly.
I put the phone up to my cheek. “Are you the ABC station? Good. My name is Lynn Roseworth.”
Two hours later, when we at last reached Interstate 25, the cell phone was hot from constant use. If it hadn’t been for the phone charger Joe thankfully kept in the glove compartment, the phone would have died long ago.
Tom had called several times, as had Kate, Anne, and Stella. I hadn’t answered, only texted them the picture. I felt so tired after talking to all the journalists, knowing they were all wondering what the crazy alien lady would say at the hospital. It was only a taste of what was to come.
Roxy knew it too. “You need to call Anne.”
“I will, in a minute. I need to get my head together.”
Roxy reached back across William and took my hand.
I squeezed. Tom was no doubt on a plane, probably having called in a favor to a wealthy donor to get on a private jet. He would bring Anne and Chris. Stella would probably muscle herself on board. Kate too. There would be so many questions, but I would insist that word of William’s discovery be sent to Nashville’s metro police immediately. Steven had to be released. And Barbara as well—
I quickly turned to Joe, who was whistling softly. For the first time, I noticed the silver swirl of his hair that lay over the back of his collar, and how he was twirling it, round and round.
The angle of his jaw. The sharpness of his nose. The light shade of his blue eyes. None of it registered then, but it did now.