Free Terrified by Kevin O'Brien

called out to her. “Megan, you’re just in time. Could I bother you for a cup of coffee? I need fuel!”
    “Coming right up!” she called back, picking up the pace.
    She ducked into the kitchen/lunchroom and switched on the fluorescent overhead. The small, windowless room had a microwave oven, a mini-fridge, a sink with a rack for dishes to dry, and the Mr. Coffee machine on a green Formica counter. The room seemed slightly cramped because of the cheap, brown, plastic patio table with matching chairs. The bulletin board on the wall had delivery menus from several nearby, open-late restaurants so people working overtime could order dinner. That was Megan’s doing—as was the sign that read: PLEASE HELP KEEP THIS AREA CLEAN. THANKS !
    The associates who worked overtime on the weekends didn’t pay much attention to that sign. Megan gazed at the dirty glasses and coffee cups piled up by the sink—and sections of already-read Seattle Times and Seattle Post-Intelligencer papers left on the chairs and the table.
    It was in the newspaper on Friday or Saturday. They’re not sure if it was a kidnapping or what… .
    Megan gulped down some of her latte and started making coffee for her coworkers. While the Mr. Coffee machine churned, she hurried over to the table, sat down, and sifted through the newspapers. She found what she was looking for in Saturday’s Post-Intelligencer , in the front section. The headline ran across three columns near the top of the fourth page:

    Police Baffled By Disappearance
Of North Seattle Woman
     
    Signs of Violent Struggle in Home
     
    BLOOD FOUND ON KITCHEN FLOOR

    Below this headline was a slightly blurred, close-up photo of Jade. The way she smiled in the snapshot, she looked as if she was about to crack up laughing. Obviously, another person had been in the shot—with his arm around her shoulder, but he’d been cut out of the newspaper photo. Megan wondered if the severed arm belonged to Wes.
    The caption said: Police believe an intruder abducted Jade Honeycutt, 27, (above) on Thursday evening from the Crown Hill rental home she shared with her boyfriend.
    Megan heard the Mr. Coffee machine churning. She glanced back and saw the glass pot was nearly full. She turned and anxiously pored over the article. From what she could tell, Wes Coulter had returned home with a friend around seven at night to discover Jade’s car in front of the house with the trunk open—and a bag of groceries in back getting soggy from the rain. He entered the house and stumbled upon the contents of another grocery bag strewn across the kitchen floor. He found some blood there, too.
    It didn’t look like Wes had done anything to her—not this time. He said he’d been with his friend all day, and the time on the grocery receipt in one of the bags showed Jade had been in the Safeway shortly before 6 PM.
    The smell of brewed coffee started to fill the lunchroom. It was ready, and the boss needed fuel. Yet, Megan had to keep reading. Jade’s neighbors hadn’t seen anything unusual. No one had heard any screams.
    Megan couldn’t help wondering if Jade had faked her own abduction—to avoid all the abuse she got at home. When she’d offered Jade a place to stay, had the barista already devised an escape plan for that very same evening? After all, Mrs. Lisa Swann didn’t hold a patent on creating a deception to explain a disappearance.
    She wondered if Jade Honeycutt was already in a different city with a different hair color, reading about her abduction.
    “Megan!” she heard Mr. Camper yell. “I could really use some coffee!”
    “It’s almost ready!” she called back. But she didn’t move from the table.
    Megan had heard—from an associate, one of the partners, and from Jade herself—that the two of them looked alike. Someone had even once asked Jade if they were sisters. Gazing at the newspaper picture of the pretty barista, Megan saw what they were talking about.
    In fact, when she squinted at the