CHAPTER FIVE
Desperate
“Look, Tracy” Kris said, with a grin on her face. ‘Look, many good people will help us to find Chloe.” She crossed her legs, and placed both her hands on her knee. “We will surely find her.” Tracy sat on top of a cast aluminum chair, a distance away, with her face to her mother.
Ever since her child’s abduction, her holiday had turned into a nightmare,and her only action was searching for her missing daughter. Tracy looked at her mother with desperate eyes; she took a deep breath and then returned to thoughts of her missing daughter and how she could find her. The day had become slightly chilly, gloomy and cloudy. She could feel the chill running through the aluminum chair. She didn’t have much time to blame the weather, but she could no longer concentrate ever since her daughter went missing.
‘Chloe has to be alive,’ she thought. ‘what would that maniac want with my daughter….?’She could hardly figure it out! Images of Chloe’s delicate pretty face, her hazel eyes staring back entered Tracy’s mind. Though, she felt a fresh confidence that Chloe was there alive. Tracy watched her mother. She was grinning, tossing her leg. Tracy thought how she had never taken time to think about how deeply she could miss her daughter before she went missing, forced through the window by the same mystery Santa, women and innocent children. Santa abducted Chloe minutes after she had finished speaking to Tracy on the phone, as she was on her way back from Andre’s place. She was in a hurry to find Chloe and her grandma. Tracy’s hand went in her coat pocket. She wanted to know whether she still had Chloe’s wrist watch, which she had picked from the room where Chloe was abducted. Her hand felt the warmth. She got the watch out, looked at it, and imagined Chloe wearing it on a bright spring day. It was the Gucci watch that Tracy had bought for her last Christmas. Tracy also had one but it never looked as beautiful as the one she’d given Chloe. It was shaped of a heart with a nice chain made of pure gold and would never fade as long as Chloe wore it. It was very easy to picture Chloe wearing it on her wrist, since she’d never left it home at any point. Tracy found herself crying.
Now she didn’t know where to start. Tracy sniffed. With pictures of her daughter Chloe in her mind, Tracy slid her hands back into her pocket; carefully placing the watch. She was sure she would see Chloe wear it again. Though the fact of her disappearance gave her desperate moments. She pulled her hand out. “Old Kris,” Chloe had always fondly called her. This reminded her, and then she looked at Kris. Santa had abducted them both, but Kris never had a chance to spy his face, she said. The day was damn cold as she could feel inside, but it didn’t do anything to make Tracy stop thinking about Chloe.
Broodily, Tracy attempted to understand why her daughter was taken, giving her a conception of terrible acts of violence by her abductor, as she tried to understand why her daughter, especially? Then Tracy started torturing herself with all the blames that she hadn’t done enough to help her daughter. However much she tried to pretend, diverting her mind to other things was the only way she thought to get some relief. Santa was obviously a murderer; everyone in the Marina knew that. He had abducted her daughter, but for what reason? Perhaps, He would just ask for a ransom as other kidnappers did who abducted children of the wealthy, and then she would just have to see how to deal with the ransom amount. But why did he pick Kris? Wasn’t she very old? Her daughter was young and still in high school. ‘Mum, I would like to join college,’ Tracy recalled Chloe saying that one day. Her child was brilliant, with long, brunette hair and lighthearted hazel eyes. She looked down at Kris wondering how she happened to rescue her in search for Chloe with Chloe still missing. She wasn’t sure whether Chloe would be hurt, because the person who abducted her was mentally sick and seemed to be quite good at his job of killing. ‘I will look for my daughter up to the last minute of my life,’ she swore inside, looking away from the veranda where she was sitting with Kris. She got off the chair and faced Kris, her mother. Both her hands in the pockets of her coat, she smiled affectionately to Kris. ‘You’re thinking too much, Tracy. You need to relax yourself at times.’
