by Laurèn Lee
“Help!” she whispered. Then, “Someone, please help!” she called louder.
What minimal strength she possessed exploded in her chest as she wrestled the handcuffs keeping her hostage in the basement. The clanging of the metal cuffs smacking against a metal pole rang loudly. If her captor didn’t know she was awake, well, now he would.
“Help!”
Tears streamed from her eyes, and instinctively, her tongue reached for them as they slid down her cheeks.
“Please! Help me!” she cried out. “My name is Harper! Help me!”
She held her breath and listened for the sound of footsteps overhead or the ringing of sirens in the distance coming to rescue her.
Nothing.
Silence.
Only her shallow breathing made a sound.
Harper closed her eyes as the feeling of keeping them open and still seeing nothing caused nausea to boil up in her gut. She squeezed them tightly closed and imagined her mother reaching out to help her, to save her. Only it was just her imagination. Her mother wasn’t here. Her mother couldn’t save her.
Harper thought back to hours ago, at least she thought it’d only been a few hours when she fell off her bike, and the stranger pretended to help her. Instead, he stole her. He heaved her ineffectual body over his shoulder and plucked her from the Earth like a child ripping dandelions out of the ground on a warm spring day.
Her stomach grumbled, and Harper reached for her aching side. Despite being kidnapped and terrified for her life, the little girl’s appetite roared inside of her. She needed something to eat. Some kind of sustenance. Anything. She’d even willingly eat the meatloaf from school if it was offered to her, despite the questionable ingredients. Even vegetables sounded appetizing. Anything.
Harper continued to pull against her restraints despite knowing her efforts were fruitless. She called for her mother over and over again, but she didn’t come.
The man who took her last night said he was trying to save her, but from what? Harper didn’t know. All she knew was the man kept calling her by a different name: Heather.
“That’s not my name,” Harper whispered in the stranger’s truck.
“Don’t look at me,” he grumbled.
Stale coffee and cigarettes permeated the air inside the truck, and Harper gagged on the harshness of it. But, she listened to the man and didn’t dare look at him. In fact, she thought if she did, she’d be staring into the eyes of the Boogie Man himself. She didn’t want to see that, no way, no how.
More tears poured down Harper’s cheeks as she clutched her belly. She wished more than anything her parents could hold her right now and save her, make her feel safe. Thunderstorms terrified Harper and every time one hit, her mom or dad would pull her into their lap and soothe her by twirling her hair between their fingers. Sometimes, they pulled on her tangles unintentionally. Most of the time, the storm canceled out her crying.
“It’s just Jesus bowling with his friends,” her mother promised.
Harper would bite her lip and stare into the menacing clouds, wondering if this was true.
“But, how do you know?” she’d ask.
“I just know, love,” her mom would reply.
When fear overwhelmed Harper to the point she could barely breathe, she tried to remember the story her mom told her about the bowling. She clung to it like a life preserver. Even if it was just a story, it provided a tiny ray of hope.
What would her mother tell her now? What reasoning or story would she give about the man who took her from the park and locked her up like an animal?
“Mama!” Harper cried “Help me!”
As Harper wept for her parents and begged God or Jesus or whoever was in charge of Heaven, footsteps pounded overhead. Harper’s breath caught in her throat, and she stopped crying. Her body turned rigid, and she pushed her back up against the cool stone wall behind her. She didn’t move; she didn’t blink.
The steps grew louder and louder until they stopped. Harper craned her neck to listen for her captor. Or, was it someone here to save her? To rescue her? She couldn’t breathe but dug her nails into the palms of her hands, desperately waiting.
A doorknob turned, the sound screeching through the silence of the basement. A man cleared his throat and stepped down the basement stairs — one at a time.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
More tears leaked from Harper’s eyes and snaked down her face. If there were light in the basement, it would be clear to see her tears streaked through the dirt covering the child’s cheeks.
The man reached the bottom step, and the door swung shut, ripping away the short connection from the basement to the outside world.
Harper squeezed her eyes shut but sensed a faint light in the room now. Maybe the man brought a flashlight? Or used his phone for light as she often saw her mother do during dark mornings when she tried to wake Harper for school without turning on the bright princess lights of her room.
The man’s odor swelled and filled the room: sweat and cigarettes. But, this time, Harper smelled something else, too.
“Hiya, Heather. You hungry?”
CHAPTER SIX
Monday, October 7, 2019
Penny slipped a crisp Grant toward the greasy teen boy managing the front desk at the Haven Inn. He flicked his head to the side so his chin-length dyed-black hair wouldn’t be in his eyes. He nodded politely at Penny and put his head down, pocketing the bill.
The boy, Jeremy, was used to Penny paying for a room by the hour without putting her name on any register or sign-in sheet. She didn’t tell him what she needed the room for, and he didn’t ask. It was nice that way, easier. She didn’t want any hard evidence or records of her rendezvous at the Haven.
Penny strode up the single flight of stairs and opened room 204, her usual. She kicked off her boots, now soiled with dried mud, and peeled her baggy black t-shirt over her head. She still had fifteen minutes.
Even though she planned on taking a shower before leaving the room, hot water against her back called to her, so she decided to take one now, too. She had the time to spare. After tossing her clothes on the second twin bed, Penny hopped into the shower and turned on the hot water. Just the hot water.
She stood under the showerhead, and a slight moan escaped her lips. Her muscles nearly sang with glee as the steaming water thrashed against her back. Many people despised this kind of overly powerful shower, but Penny lived for this kind of relaxation. A little pain, a little bliss, and the overwhelming sensation of numbness when she turned the water off.
Lost in thought, Penny hardly noticed the door to the motel room slam shut and the lock click into place. She closed her eyes; her alone time was over.
“Hey,” a familiar voice said. “Why are you showering before we get dirty?”
“Hi, Jayson,” Penny said. “I just needed a quick rinse.”
Jayson’s eyes washed over Penny’s bare body, raw and red from the water pressure. He bit his lip and leaned into the tub, pulling Penny’s face closer to his.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Not one to return the compliment, Penny simply closed her eyes and smashed her lips against his, losing herself in the pent-up passion building between the two. They hadn’t come here in over two weeks. The tension had peaked days ago, but now they’d finally have their chance to release it.
Penny turned off the water, a little begrudgingly. Sure, she wanted to feel Jayson’s touch, to touch him, but there was something about the solace of being alone that often left her more satisfied than anything. Still, she yearned for the goofy man with the curly hair hoisting her out of the tub and cradling her in his arms.
Jayson nibbled at her neck and sent Penny into a fit of laughter. He knew her sweet spot, her ticklish spot, her everything. She’d lost her virginity to him, after all. And they’d practiced plenty when they were in high school.
Once they reconnected again at
the paper, it was like riding a bike. Everything familiar and easy. She knew him, and he knew her.
Jayson carried Penny to the bed and gently tossed her on top of the ivory comforter, bitten away at places from the moths. He army crawled onto the bed too and inched toward the apple of his eye. He started at her calf and kissed his way up, higher and higher.
Penny tossed her head back in ecstasy as Jayson’s tongue explored her and pleasured her. She reached for the bed frame and gripped it until her knuckles turned white.
“Jayson,” she breathed.
Jayson continued to climb his way up farther and farther until his lips brushed against Penny’s breasts. He nipped at her soft, pink nipples.
Penny’s moans increased in volume, but she didn’t care. She wouldn’t deny herself the release she desperately wanted. Needed.
Finally, their mouths met again. Jayson slipped his tongue inside Penny’s mouth. She tasted herself on him, and it only sent her body spiraling down and her heart to race. Opening her eyes, Penny tugged at Jayson’s pants and unzipped them with ease. He ripped off his shirt, literally.
Both stopped for a moment and snickered at the torn white cotton tee on the floor. With her hands above her head, Jayson’s hands slipped into hers; she was defenseless against him.
“I’ve missed you,” Jayson whispered into Penny’s ear. “I want you so badly. Do you want this, too?”
Penny nodded and stifled the desire to call out for him to keep going. “Don’t stop,” she breathed. The sheets dampened underneath Penny’s body. From the shower to the perspiration between them.
As requested, Jayson didn’t stop. He thrust himself inside Penny as metaphorical fireworks exploded between them. They held each other’s gaze and rocked back and forth. Feeding off each other’s pleasure, wanting to give the other more and more.
Jayson stood by the window with his pants on but unzipped. He didn’t bother putting his shirt back on. He gazed into the blustery night with a lit cigarette hanging limply outside his mouth.
“That’s a nasty habit,” Penny chided.
“It helps me calm down after incredible sex,” he said with a wink.
Penny rolled her eyes. It was routine for Jayson to have a Marb Red after sex. He did it every time, despite her pleas for him to quit or at least not smoke around her.
“I like clean air, and you know, not getting cancer,” she once said.
“We’re all going to die someday,” he’d replied.
Jayson inhaled deeply and exhaled outside of the motel window. Despite his best efforts, though, some of the smoke eased back into the room. Penny wrinkled her nose and sprayed an extra spritz of perfume on the nape of her neck. She changed into jeans and a hoodie, no longer needing a professional façade.
“I saw your wife today,” she said.
Unfazed, Jayson turned around. “Oh, yeah? How’d that go?”
“Fine. We were in the same group for the search party,” Penny said.
Jayson nodded. “She said she was going to that thing today.”
Penny slipped into her black combat boots and laced them up. Her hair dripped down her neck and onto her back, dampening her t-shirt.
“Why didn’t you go?” Penny held her breath.
“I, uh, had other things to do,” he said and shrugged.
Penny narrowed her eyes. “Other things? Like what?”
“Quite the little reporter, are we?” Jayson whistled.
“Just curious is all. The entire town is out looking for a little girl and your wife shows up without you on her arm.” Penny’s cheeks reddened.
“Don’t worry about it, okay? It doesn’t concern you,” Jayson snipped, a touch of poison seeping through his words. “And, besides, it’s not like this town hasn’t dealt with a missing kid before.”
“Hmmm. Okay. A little girl goes missing, and you don’t seem to care. Best dad of the year award right here, huh?”
She couldn’t understand why he didn’t seem to care more about Harper’s disappearance, considering he’d suffered a similar situation. During high school, not too long after they started dating, Jayson’s little sister disappeared. At first, the police pursued Jayson as the top suspect. It was known to many that Jayson and Shannon argued more than what seemed normal for siblings.
Even Penny noticed their heated sibling rivalry. She assumed it was the age difference; Jayson in high school and Shannon in elementary school.
Luckily, he had an alibi. The night Shannon disappeared, Jayson had taken Penny to the movies. While no one at the theatre remembered them, Jayson found the stub. He showed it to the police who then backed off. Shannon was never found and despite his alibi, many people in Crimson Falls believed he had something to do with it. He never talked about Shannon, but every October, the anniversary of her disappearance, whispers followed him wherever he went.
Still, Penny thought Jayson might show a little interest in finding Harper, considering his own sister never returned to Crimson Falls.
Penny collected the rest of her belongings, and without another word to Jayson, she stalked out of the room and let the door slam behind her. She wasn’t exactly sure what he was hiding, but she’d be damned if she didn’t do everything in her power to find out.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tuesday, October 8, 2019
The next morning, Penny and her mother ventured through the usual routine before the day nurse arrived. However, Penny’s mind was plagued with questions from the night before. What was Jayson hiding? Why didn’t he care more about Harper’s disappearance? Surely, as a soon-to-be father himself, it should have some impact on him? What if one of his children were kidnapped?
Shaking away the dark thoughts, Penny kissed her mother goodbye and headed toward the office. On the drive, Penny noticed nearly all the light and utility poles in town were covered with missing posters of Harper. Penny’s heart sank. Harper was more than a juicy story, a chance for a byline above the fold. She was a real person, a little girl gone missing. She had a family who loved her and wanted nothing more than to hold her in their arms again.
As much as she tried to keep up the frosty walls around her heart, the face of the little strawberry-blonde girl smiling back at her every several feet thawed it a bit. Instinctually, she wanted to help find the girl, and not just for the story, but to reunite a family.
What has come over me? she thought.
Penny could only assume her contrasting reaction derived from the fear of what it would feel like to lose her mother. Or, how her mom would feel if she lost Penny.
The only problem in helping investigate the case? Her boss stood firmly in her way.
“Good morning, team,” Peter said with bright eyes and a broad smile.
“Mornin’,” the staff grumbled as they sipped their mediocre coffee around a tattered table in the office.
“It’s that time again. Time to pick our stories for the upcoming week,” Peter said enthusiastically.
Penny sat across from Jayson who refused to meet her gaze. Despite his distance, Penny stared at him, waiting, daring him to look back at her. She wanted him to know she was curious about the mysterious aura he threw on like a jacket so suddenly last night, shielding him from her questions. But, he wouldn’t give in. Instead, he stared at his notepad or kept his focus firmly on Peter.
“Anyone have ideas they’d like to pitch?”
Jasper raised his hand like an attentive school girl. “I have one!”
“Go on,” Peter said.
“There’s a mural going up on the side of The Crooked Crow down the street. They hired someone from out-of-state to paint a map of Crimson Falls,” Jasper replied proudly.
“Excellent! I’d like to get quotes from the owner, name, and the artist. And, don’t forget a photo of the progress,” Peter instructed.
Jasper saluted their boss and scribbled furiously on his notepad. Penny rolled her eyes; Jasper was always one for sucking up. Even so, she didn’t have any ideas for the upcoming edit
ion of the Crimson Chronicle. Deep in her heart, she assumed Harper’s disappearance would keep her busy for weeks, but she doubted it was the right time or place to bring it up in their staff meeting. Especially considering her and Peter’s heated phone conversation from the day before.
“The high school is having their annual talent show this Friday. I could do that,” Jayson suggested.
“Wonderful. You’re on it. Bring a camera, as I’m sure you know we’ll want some close-ups and action shots of the acts.”
Jayson nodded and proceeded to write down a few notes on his own pad of paper donning the Crimson Falls Chronicle logo at the top.
As the meeting progressed, Peter assigned a few more pieces to the other staff members, including a few robberies overnight, a vandalized home near the cemetery, and a domestic dispute by the school. Then, as though a spotlight was purposely directed onto her, Peter looked to Penny with a surveying gaze.
“What about you, Penny? What will you be writing about this week?”
His voice almost challenged her to say something about the missing girl. She knew better, though, than to address the situation in front of her colleagues. Instead, she searched her brain frivolously for something, anything she could pitch.
“I’m still waiting for some stories to progress enough to write about them,” she said, her voice with a slight strain. “But, I thought I could assist Jayson at the talent show. You know, instead of a single article, make it a spread.”
She bit her lip as she watched her boss ponder the idea. Would he take the bait? And, for the first time during the meeting, Jayson turned to look at Penny, a menacing glare etched across his usually cherub-like façade.
“Sure, why not?” Peter said. “Then, with a few more ads, we’ll have no problem filling up space. Great work, everyone. Now, get to writing!”
With that, the staff meeting was adjourned. While the others shuffled out of the room and meandered toward the break room for more coffee, Jayson pulled Penny aside and out of earshot.