MInTheGap Fiction Fiction Writing from MInTheGap

A Lead, A Kidnapping, and A Clue – Page 7

The next morning, we went to church, praying and seeking guidance from God on were to find Belle. That afternoon we had a major break. Kristin was leaving the church when she saw a flyer advertising a butterfly farm. “What’s this?” She asked me.

“It’s a butterfly farm. They have him all over England. My brother, Tim’s, craze about butterflies when we came the last time took us all over to see butterflies.”

“Could we go to one?”

“Sure, I’d love to, if we didn’t have someone to find.”

“I’m sure that Belle. . .wait a second!! Colorful, flying, water!!!”

“What do you mean?”

“What if it means a butterfly farm near the sea??!!”

“You know, you could be right!! Let’s go check this butterfly farm, it’s only a couple of minutes away!” I said. We went to the butterfly farm, but fining nothing, we returned to the hotel and went to church. We then looked at a map, finding all the butterfly farms located on the coast. There were a few others, but one in particular stuck in my memory. “Weymouth.”

“Weymouth?”

“Yes, that’s the butterfly farm we went to the last time we were here. I have this strange feeling that she’s there.”

“But that’s a good portion if the day away.”

“I know, but all these butterfly farms are on the way, anyway. We can check them all on our way, and check Weymouth on Tuesday.”

“Whatever you say Dad.” Kristin said. We went to sleep.

The next morning, we went on our long trip to Weymouth, checking every butterfly farm on the way. We didn’t find her, and we arrived at Weymouth just in time for it to close. We rented an hotel room, and stayed there that night. That night, at around eight, I heard my portable phone ring. We were discussing the possibility of Weymouth not being the place where Belle was when it rang. I quickly dug it out, thinking that it was Tricia, giving me an update a day early. “Hello?” I said in the phone.

“Hello, Adam?” I heard on the other end.

“Yes, this is Adam, the connection is weak, please speak up.” I said into the phone.

“This is Tracy.”

“Tracy!!”

“Yes, . . . I . . .”

“Tracy, can you call back on the normal phone, this connection is breaking up. The number is. . .” I told the number. Hanging up, the other phone rang. “Hello?”

“Yes, this is much better.” Tracy said. “Adam, I just wanted to see how you were doing, and tell you that I love you, and I miss you.”

“I love you too. How are you getting along with my parents?”

“Fine, fine. They got a call the other day from a Chet Szymanski. Says he wants to see you when you get back. You are coming here before you go back to Oregon, aren’t you?”

“Oh, of course. My ‘girl’ is there, and I wouldn’t dream of leaving you there by yourself.”

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