Hard.
Let her learn a valuable life lesson.
He had other plans that did not include carpentry, kids or any white picket fences in freaking Oregon.
When Mason was released from Hightower, Remy had things nicely set up. She already had a clean apartment for them in Lufkin where Mason started his first carpentry job, through a prison reentry program with a faith-based outreach group, the Fellowship of the Good Thief Society. Theyd already helped him get the low-interest loan on his truck, which he needed for work, and they were very protective of an ex-cons privacy.
As part of the surrogate deal, Remys agency would pay all her medical costs and ensure regular home visits by nurses, and provide a small living allowance. But, if the mother backed out of the deal, or lost the baby, all coverage would cease and the mother could be responsible for repaying the agency fifty percent of what theyd paid out to cover medical costs so far.
They told me they deal with repayment by the mothers on a case-by-case basis, Remy said.
Remy and Mason kept the surrogacy secret and kept to themselves. Everything went well until the night he woke to Remys screams as she held herself in agony.
Somethings wrong, Mason! Take me to a hospital!
His first thought was to alert Remys agency nurse.
No! They cant know! If I lose it, we lose everything! Weve got to do this without them knowing at all! Hurry, call the people you work for. I saw in your file papers, the church fellowship that supported you, theyre connected to a medical network. Theres a twenty-four-hour emergency number.
Masons people were helpful and discreet. Theyd immediately arranged for an ambulance to rush Remy and Mason to the Beau Soleil West Medical Center, a faith-based nonprofit hospital in Shreveport, a little over one hundred miles away.
Thats where she lost the baby.
The church group quietly covered all the costs and arranged to bring them back to Lufkin, protecting Remy and Masons privacy while they mourned their loss. Few people knew what had happened.
Remy said they had to leave before the agency nurse came for her next visit. Once the agency found out what had happened, Remy would not only lose out on all that cash, but the agency would demand she repay them half of the thousands theyd spent on her.
We have to get away, Mason, so I can decide what to do.
He told his employer and parole officer what had happened and that they needed time away, for a spiritual retreat, to begin to heal.
They pulled together all the cash they had and hit the road. They both tried to find a solution in between Remys postpartum bouts of psychosis.
Thats how Mason got here.
The speaker atop the menu board crackled.
May I take your order?
He ordered, and as he moved on down the line he wondered if his situation could get any worse. While idling, he reached under his seat and felt his Smith & Wesson.40-caliber pistol and the magazine, taking comfort in the fact it was there if he needed it. Then he licked the residue off of the small square of foil as he always did in a bid to prolong his comedown. There was no shortage of challenges.
He glanced at the letters on the console, one reminding him of his monthly meeting with his parole officer, another from the Parole Division saying hed been randomly selected for drug and alcohol testing. He had twenty-four hours to report to a District Parole Office to submit a urinalysis. Failure to appear would result in a case conference, which was not a good thing.
Mason stopped at the first window and paid for the food.
While waiting to pick up his order, he saw a new message on his phone. The number was blocked.
Heard you are out and got access to 25k-about what you owe. DOAs comin for your ass.
13
Dallas, Texas
Stiff from five hours of hard sleep, Kate woke with adrenaline pumping through her. She sat up and switched on the TV news.
Still live with wall-to-wall coverage of the storm.
While watching, she checked her phone for new messages. Nothing. Again, she came to her photo of Jenna Cooper searching for her baby. Could I help her find him? Again, Kate felt like she had been punched in the gut. It had only been a few hours since Dorothea Pick dismissed her desire to follow Jennas tragic story.
Why is she sidelining me and not the others? I need this job as much as they do. I cant sit here until three in the afternoon to work in the bureau when one of the biggest stories in the world is happening all around me.
Kate showered, dressed and bit into a stale bagel for breakfast as she went online and searched the long list of emergency shelters across the Metroplex. After making notes on those located near the flea market, she went to her car, determined to deliver a solid story today.
Ill prove that Im as good as the others.
Early-morning traffic was manageable. Thankfully she was familiar with her destination. First, she went to the flea market, where shed learned that security had been tightened. For safety reasons, access was now limited to officials and media with valid accreditation.
After Kate showed her Newslead ID, she headed across the debris-covered grounds to the Saddle Up Center, concerned that she was not going to find Jenna and Cassie Cooper here.
Amid the barks of dog teams, search-and-rescue efforts were still continuing before the operation evolved into debris removal, Fire Captain J. B. Langston told her.
Weve been going all night and we havent recovered a baby so far. Weve extracted more injured survivors and fatalities. Several children and more adult victims, but no baby, Langston said. You know that people were swept up into the winds. I heard our guys found one of the centers vendors in a tree, seven miles from here.
Yeah, that was terrible. I read that in an Associated Press story, Kate said. Captain, do you have any idea where shelter survivors and their families were taken?
Try Rivergreen Community Hall. There are a few others but Rivergreens your best bet.
It was a short drive, some two miles south. The community hall, a square one-story building, had been designated an emergency shelter for the area.
Emergency vehicles, buses, news vans, along with trucks delivering food, water and other aid, filled the parking lot. Clearly, this shelter had been operating nonstop through the night, Kate thought as she entered.
Inside, the hall droned with activity. Banners from a Retirement & Appreciation banquet, planned for last night, waved like a memory over rows of cots and mats occupied by people recovering from the storm. They filled the large central area. Some were sleeping, some were huddled comforting others. Some were reading government application forms or talking on cell phones. Although spotty, there was service.
Tables staffed by emergency workers, aid agencies, church groups and other volunteers lined the walls. They offered medical help, advice on insurance claims and counseling. Signs pointed to showers, extra toilets, laundry facilities, toiletries, towels, clothing and toys. There was a station to donate blood. At one end of the hall, people lined up for hot food. Several large TVs were turned to storm news and there were computers with internet service donated by local companies.
Kate came to a heartbreaking sight in one corner: a Missing/Displaced Persons sign. Under it were a few dozen photographs of women, children and men of all ages hastily taped to the wall like a patchwork quilt of hope. A few had little notes with contact information attached to them.
The effort was run by the Missing Person Emergency Search System-MPESS-a national agency based in Washington, D.C. When Kate arrived, several staff members at three tables were using laptops, maps and cell phones as they took information from anguished people.
A bleary-eyed man in his late forties with salt-and-pepper hair turned to her. He was wearing a navy MPESS polo shirt. The ID tag hanging from his neck said Frank Rivera, Supervisor.
Sure, I got a minute, Rivera said after Kate had requested someone with the group speak to the press. What do you need?
She asked for a rundown on the search system, how it was helping to find missing people, because shed thought that the process was already being handled by local relief workers.
Thats correct, Rivera said, were helping local groups and the Dallas Police Department and Sheriffs for surrounding counties. Were coordinating their missing persons work and their database. Were an experienced national nonprofit agency, with expertise in this area of crisis response. Weve got retired cops, federal agents and investigators. The federal Justice Department and FEMA arranged for us to come. Once they got the airports running, most of our teams flew in overnight from all over the country. Were set up at emergency shelters at all the hardest-hit communities.
Rivera sipped from a large cup of coffee and said his group dealt with all types of situations where people are disoriented, lost or still trapped. Families get separated or a member may have been helped by strangers and taken to a facility without their family knowing.
We list every detail on anyone reported missing, photographs, names, descriptions, clothes and their situation when the storm hit-were they at work, school, church, shopping, visiting from another city, state, that kind of thing. It all goes into the database. Then its cross-referenced at hospitals and shelters with descriptions of deceased who are being processed by teams from the various Medical Examiners offices.
Rivera said the database was growing and being constantly updated online. There was also a toll-free twenty-four-hour help number. In cases requiring identification of the deceased, nothing was posted and family members were notified for next steps.
Our analysts are also hitting the ground, going into hospitals and shelters to collect information on people, children whove been displaced, separated, rescued and transferred to a different location. All people reported to the system are considered missing until law enforcement, fire, paramedics and the M.E. confirm them as recovered, reunited, or deceased. And the clock is ticking on those still trapped in the rubble.