He stood on the ground and looked up at her window for just a moment before he began to climb the rose trellis beneath it, a slight smile on his face. He pushed aside the flowers carefully, silently, making sure he did not rustle them too much. Then he was there on the porch roof, easy to see in the light from the full moon that floated above his head. He put his hands on the ledge and pulled upward gently, relieved to find that it slid open easily. He stuck his head in and peered over at her bed...there she was, sleeping, her face like an angel, her beautiful mouth soft and relaxed, her lashes curled upon her perfect cheeks. Her hair spread over her pillows in soft, golden brown curls, and as he lowered himself carefully to the floor he took a deep breath. The room smelled of her, of sweetness, innocence, and beauty. Of everything that she was. He tiptoed over to her bed and stood looking at her for just a moment before he reached out and gently stroked her cheek.
"Elizabeth."
She stirred slightly, a tiny smile curving her lips. Her eyelids fluttered open slowly. "Lucky," she whispered.
Lucky Spencer awoke with a start and looked at his alarm clock. It was nearly 8:00 a.m. "Damn!" He had an important English test in a half-hour and he had overslept. He stumbled out of bed and jumped in the shower. He had stayed up too late the night before talking to Elizabeth on the phone. It was always so hard to say goodnight to her. He wanted to hear her voice for as long as possible.
Ten minutes later he was grabbing his backpack and running out the door, his hair still wet. He made it to class three minutes late and was greeted with a disapproving look from his teacher as he tried to sneak in. "Nice to see you could make it Mr. Spencer. I hope we aren't keeping you from anything." .
"No, ha, no, sorry." He sat down and ran his hand through his hair as he looked around the room for Elizabeth. Strange, she wasn't there. Now he knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on the test, wondering what could have kept her from coming to class. He knew she had been worried about this test. They had studied for it together last night. He wondered if she was sick, although she had seemed fine the night before. He would have to call her as soon as he was finished with this damned test. .
He muddled his way through the test as best he could and made his way quickly to the phone when it was over. He let the phone ring for a long time before hanging up. Where could she be? Maybe she was sick and had turned off the phone so she could get some sleep. He decided he would go over there after school to check on her. .
It was nearly 3:00 when he left school. He headed first to Kelly's to see if she had started to feel better and had decided to go into work. He opened the door and saw Tammy at the counter. "Hi, Tammy, is Elizabeth here?" .
"No, she isn't due in until 6:00. You didn't know that?" .
"Yea, but she wasn't at school today, so I thought maybe she came in early." .
"Sorry, honey, I haven't seen her today." .
"Thanks." .
He left and decided to walk down to the docks before heading to her house. She wasn't there, either and just a hint of worry was beginning to creep into his subconscious. Something just didn't feel right in his gut. .
He knocked on the door of her house and when there was no answer, he walked around the back and climbed the rose trellis to the roof by her window, just as he had done so many times in the past. He called to her as he knocked on the window, but he could see that the room was empty. He also noticed that her bed was unmade, which was unusual. Elizabeth always made her bed. .
A cold grip of panic seized his heart as he noticed the window was open a few inches. Something was terribly wrong. He could feel it. He lifted the window slowly, his throat constricting as he saw the scene before him. .
What he saw terrified him and he felt his heart pounding wildly, his blood rushing to his head. The sheet had a handprint of blood on the edge as if she had been grasping the sheet. He kept saying "Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god, please don't let this be real," as he first paced the room, then searched the entire house looking for her. He found small amounts of blood on the banister and another hand print on the front door. He ended up back in the bedroom. He willed himself to calm down, to search the room for some clue as to what might have happened. It was obvious there had been a struggle. The lamp that usually sat on the nightstand at the side of the bed was on the floor, and the picture of him with Elizabeth was by the window on the floor, the glass shattered. He picked up the picture and found blood on it, too. Finally he grabbed the phone, and tried to dial. His hands were shaking so badly it took him three tries to get the number dialed. He listened to the phone ring for several minutes, whispering, "Come on, come on, come on, answer the phone." .
He was just about to hang up when he heard his father's voice. "Luke's." .
"Dad..." His voice faltered. .
"Lucky? To what do I owe....?" .
His spoke rapidly, wanting to get it all out so that his Dad would come and fix everything quickly. "Dad, I need your help. I'm at Elizabeth's house, and she's gone. There's blood all over her room. Oh, god...." .
"Slow down, there Cowboy. Take a deep breath and try to tell me what's going on." .
"Can you just come over here, please?" .
"I'll be right there." .
He found Lucky sitting on the edge of Elizabeth's bed, his head in his hands, the shattered picture in his lap. Luke surveyed the room, saw the blood and the signs of struggle, and thought, "This is bad. This is real bad." His heart broke for his son. He knew how much Lucky loved Elizabeth and if something had happened to her, he wasn't sure how Lucky would get through it. .
He walked over and put his hand on Lucky's shoulder. "You okay, son?" Lucky looked up at him, tears welling in his eyes. "No, I'm not okay. How can I be okay? She's gone, Dad, something terrible has happened to her. Where is she? What happened to her?" His voice broke and he put his hands over his eyes, to try and stop the tears, but he knew they were going to come anyway. Finally he looked at his father and said, "You have to help me, Dad. Please. We have to find her."