Midnight Before Christmas

9

“Eat!” Carl shouted. “Eat!”

Tommy pushed his plate away. “I don’t want to. You can’t make me!”

“You’re my son!” Carl glanced around the room. They were beginning to attract the attention of the handful of other patrons, as well as the Asian woman behind the cash register. “Do as you’re told!”

“I’m not going to!”

“Don’t be a bad boy, Tommy!” He grabbed Tommy by the neck and jerked him forward, pressing the spoon against his lips. “Eat!”

“Don’t do it, Tommy!”

Carl’s head jerked up. God in heaven-it was Bonnie! Bonnie and some other woman he didn’t know. Somehow they’d managed to find him.

He dropped the spoon. It clattered to the floor as he leapt out of his chair.

“Someone please help!” Bonnie cried. “Someone arrest him! Call the police! They’re looking for him!”

“Bonnie-baby-”

“Grab the food!” Bonnie lurched forward and pushed the plate away from Tommy. “Tommy, did you eat any of it? Did you eat anything?”

“No, Mommy. I-”

“Oh, thank God.” She threw her arms around him and hugged him close against her chest. “Did someone call the police?”

Carl saw that the woman behind the register was talking quietly into the phone. “Bonnie, you can’t do this. I was just having lunch with my son. It’s Christmas Eve!”

“You sick creep, you were trying to kill him. Would someone please arrest him!”

Carl pushed away from the table and grabbed Tommy by the shirt. “I’m taking the boy with me.”

“Like hell,” Bonnie answered.

“You can’t stop me,” he growled.

“What are you going to do? Beat me up again? Fracture my collarbone?”

Carl’s face twisted. “What? Bonnie, it doesn’t have to be like this!” He saw one of the other diners, a large heavyset man in his early thirties, inching forward. He knew he had to move quickly or he would encounter some serious resistance. “This isn’t over, Bonnie. Not by a long shot.” He turned quickly and fled out the front door.

Megan tried to stop Carl as he rushed past, but he knocked her out of the way without even breaking his stride. She pushed herself back to her feet, but by the time she had raced outside, Carl was speeding away in his red pickup. She did manage to get the license-plate number, though: XAU-208. She scribbled it down on a scrap of paper, then ran back inside the restaurant.

“Did someone call the-” She stopped. Bonnie was cradling her son in her arms, pressing him against her chest.

“Oh, God,” she kept murmuring under her breath. “Oh, thank you, God.”

A nod from the woman behind the counter told Megan the police were on their way. She plopped herself into the nearest chair, suddenly exhausted. She leaned forward and laid her head on the table.

She would have to pull herself together before the police arrived. Someone had to bring them up-to-date, and she could hardly expect Bonnie to do it. The police had to understand what was happening. Even if Carl was an ex-cop, they had to try to find the man. Before he returned.

She was glad they’d found Tommy before it was too late. But her elation hadn’t made her forget what Carl had said before he bolted out the door.

This isn’t over, Bonnie, he said.

And as Megan stared into the man’s steely eyes, she knew he meant it. She knew this wasn’t over.

She knew he’d be back.