21. Dylan

21

DYLAN

R yan dragged Jessica away. I stood there frozen, helpless. When he basically threw her forward and she stumbled, I started after him. He spun around and pointed at me. I stopped in my tracks.

"Don't follow or the deal is off. Go play with your kid before I decide to take him with me too," Ryan snarled.

"Ryan, no!" Jessica called out.

I stepped back until I was close to Max. He was crying. I turned and scooped him. I couldn't begin to comprehend what he must think about what had just happened. With Max in my arms, I ran along the walkway that led out to the parking lot. There was a car out on the road. That could have been them, could have been someone else.

"Let's get this off," I said as I pulled the inflated tube from around his middle.

Max was crying, but I didn't have time for that. I needed to find out where Ryan was taking Jessica.

I buckled Max into his car seat, tossing everything Jessica had handed me onto the floor. Jumping behind the wheel, I sped out of the lot. The road the hotel was on wound halfway up the side of the hills that formed the valley. I took hairpin curves entirely too fast and kept my car in the middle of the narrow road. I couldn't see the car I had seen leaving earlier. They were always somewhere up ahead, around another curve before I caught up. When I got to Carmel Valley Road, I had a fifty-fifty chance of making a wrong turn.

"Left or right? Ah, fuck it." I headed east, into the valley, and floored the gas. It didn't take me very long to realize my efforts were futile. Max screamed with sobs in the back. One look in the rearview mirror at his red tear-streaked face, and I realized I had seriously fucked up.

"What the hell do I think I'm doing?"

As soon as there was space to pull the car off the road, I skidded to a halt and pulled Max from his car seat and held him close.

He put his little arms around my neck and held on tightly. His tiny body was racked with sobs as he struggled to get air around his crying. I stroked his wet hair and made soothing noises. I tried to comfort him. He didn't know what was going on. The adults had been yelling and crying. And then I was driving like a madman with my child screaming in the back seat.

"I've got you, Max. I've got you."

I was such a moron. In my panic for Jessica and anger for Ryan, I had disregarded common sense and put my own child in danger. I had been reckless. Stupid wasn't strong enough of a word for what I had done, and I had traumatized my frightened child by trying to play spy with some kind of car chase.

I held onto him until he stopped crying. He still didn't want to let go.

"Should we go back to the hotel? I've got pizza," I mentioned.

He shook his head and still wouldn't let go. I was turning into a crap father. Carefully, I peeled back his arms. I ran my hands down his arms, both to reassure him and to keep him from grabbing onto my neck again.

"Let's get you back in the car seat. We can go home."

"Can I still have pizza if we go home?" His voice was so small and quiet.

"Of course you can still have pizza if we go home. I do need to stop at the hotel and get the rest of your things. Can you do that with me?"

It was a struggle to be calm. I fought the urge to get back behind the steering wheel and start cruising the streets of Carmel, looking for any sign of Jessica. It was a foolish thought, but I was desperate.

Hell, for all I knew, Ryan could have headed straight out of town. They could be well on their way to San Francisco. There was more than one way in and out of the valley.

I tried to call Jessica's phone. It went to voicemail immediately. I tried again.

"If you try to call her again, I swear I'll throw this thing out the window," Ryan said before he disconnected.

I drove back to the hotel. He didn't even ask if he could go swimming again. Max stayed in my arms the entire time. He did not want to be put down. I felt horrible that a fun day of swimming was ruined. I gathered the things he and Jessica had brought with them and turned the key in.

"The room is already paid for the entire night," the desk clerk said.

"I know. I'm not asking for a discount. I'm just turning the key in since we aren't staying. Something came up."

She said some platitudes and, "I hope you consider coming back and staying with us again," when she handed me the receipt.

I doubted that would happen. Maybe if Max wanted to go swimming again, we could try, or check into another hotel. Or just go swimming at the country club if it was warm enough.

It was well past dinner time when we got home. Max didn't complain that his pizza was cold, and I didn't insist that he change out of his swimsuit before he ate.

My insides were churning with worry for Jessica. I wanted to get out there and look for her, but I also had a four-year-old to take care of.

After I got him fed and changed into his pajamas, I carried him down to my mother's rooms.

"I need your help," I said as I walked in.

"Of course, dear, whatever you need," Mother said.

"We are not watching the boy. He has a nanny for that," Clara said before I had a chance to explain.

"Possibly not," I said in a flat tone.

"Oh, no, has something happened between you two?" Mother asked.

"I knew she wasn't any good. I didn't want to say anything, but she?—"

"Then don't say anything," I snapped. "Nothing between us," I said, returning my attention to Mother. "There's been a complication between an old boyfriend of hers and a business deal I was working on. She had to go with him to work something out. I have to go and pick her up." I spoke slowly, carefully. I didn't want to re-traumatize Max, and I didn't want to overly worry Mother.

"Well, where is she, then?" Clara asked.

I glared at her. "She is not here, and that's all you need to be concerned with."

"How hard can it be to watch Max for the evening?" Mother asked Clara.

"I can't be running all over the house checking on him, trying to put him to bed when you might need me down here," Clara complained.

"You don't have to put him to bed. He can fall asleep on the couch down here. Look, I know I promised you wouldn't have to watch him again, but this is kind of a situation I'm stuck in, and I need your help." I stated my case and hoped logic and reason would sway them.

"Of course Max can stay with me. We'll watch a movie, and he'll probably be fast asleep in no time," Mother said before Clara had a chance to complain again.

"I just don't see how I have to make up for the slack caused by your hiring that woman when she isn't doing her job," Clara said and then harrumphed.

"Clara, you are an integral part of keeping this family functional. I am well aware that your job description does not include my son. But tonight, I am asking for your assistance in this matter. Trust me, I don't want to be in this situation either. It's not exactly anything that I or Jessica had control over."

Clara rolled her eyes and finally nodded in assent.

"Thank you. Be good for Nana and Clara," I said right before I left.

With Max in caring hands, I needed to go and find Jessica. I didn't even know where to start.

After I left, I got into my car and began driving. I had no idea where I was going or how I would find her, but I needed to do something.

At some point, I realized I was simply driving around in circles. I pulled over and closed my eyes. I wasn't thinking clearly, rationally. I was reacting poorly to the situation at hand.

I was figuratively spinning my wheels when I had tools. I just needed to use them. I tried Jessica's phone again. Maybe something had changed and she could answer it. Nothing.

I tried Ryan's number. The call connected, and I thought I heard someone say ‘welcome' in the background before Ryan's voice filled the speakers.

"It took you long enough to call me," he said. "I'm surprised you haven't been blowing up my phone this whole time."

"Is Jessica still with you? Is she safe?" I asked.

"What kind of a monster do you think I am?"

"Let me talk to her. Put her on," I demanded.

"No, I don't think so. You took a good, long time to make this call. How am I supposed to be convinced you really care for her if you didn't even try to call me for almost… Wow, it's been three hours. And I thought you've been moving slowly on the proposal."

"Where is she?" I snarled.

"Like I'm going to tell you." He ended the call.

I stared at the display on my car's dash as if it would suddenly give me a map location of the phone call. "Damn it!" I slammed my hand down on the steering wheel. What had I heard in the background during the call? I had no idea whether he was still driving, sitting in a bar, or in a hotel somewhere.

"Call Sarah," I spoke loudly for the phone's voice commands. I began driving around, still uncertain where to go or how to start looking for Jessica.

The ringing sounded through the car's speakers.

"Hi, Dylan. Is everything okay? It's late."

"How would you find out if someone was staying at a hotel?" I asked, not even greeting her.

"Uh, I don't exactly know. Most hotels these days won't tell you if they have a guest there. Why?"

"What if it's an emergency?" I asked.

"I don't know. I guess you could call and pretend you need to be put through to their room."

"Good. I need you to find out where Ryan Carmichael is staying," I said.

"Can't you just call him and ask?" Sarah asked.

"No, I can't."

"Okay, where is he staying? Do you know if he's in Monterey or Carmel, or…?" She let the silence hang, waiting for me to fill in the blank for her.

"I have no idea, but I need to find him."

Sarah's laugh filled my car. "You're joking, right? Do you have any idea how many hotels there are around here? What if he got one of those vacation rentals instead of a hotel? You're a good boss, Dylan, but that's an impossible task."

"Sarah," I started.

"No. If you decide to fire me in the morning, I'll still say no. You're asking me to not only produce a list of well over five hundred hotels, but then call each and every one of them. Call the man, find out where he's staying. You don't have to tell him why you want to know."

"Oh, he'll figure it out. You're right, that's not a last-minute thing to ask someone to undertake. At least five hundred? You think that many? I won't fire you in the morning. Good night."

As soon as I ended the call, my phone started ringing again.