by Laurèn Lee
The aroma of a plain chicken broth filled her nostrils. Her stomach rumbled ferociously. She presumed, like the past meals, there would be a sparse amount of vegetables and chicken in the broth, but she didn’t care. Any kind of sustenance was fine. She needed to keep her strength.
“All right, Heather. Tip your head back. Yes, that’s it, girl,” the man cooed before another fit of coughing roared through the basement.
He never unlocked her handcuffs during meal time. Instead, he helped her eat by slowly tipping the bowl of soup or oatmeal for her to drink from. The man didn’t take any chances for her to escape. But there had to be a way. He’d slip up sometime, somehow, right?
The lukewarm broth scorched down her throat. Harper caught the mushy vegetables and easily mashed them with her teeth so she’d swallow them easier. She tried time after time to sip the soup slowly, so as to make it last a little longer. Even if that meant staying in the company of her captor longer. But she didn’t want to finish her food too quickly. She never knew when he’d come again to feed her. She couldn’t manage to keep track of the meal times. She didn’t know if he came once a day, twice a day? Every other day. Time disappeared to her.
“How’s the soup, Heather?” he asked as she swallowed the last gulp.
“Is there any more?” Harper held her breath. She’d never asked for more before. She didn’t want to anger the man. Fear ripped through her every time she opened her mouth to make a request and ended up biting her tongue, instead.
Silence filled the air again as though the man wasn’t there at all. “Still hungry, huh? Growing an appetite?”
Harper nodded then remembered he might not be able to see her do so in the shadowy darkness of the basement. “Yes. I’m a growing girl.” Her voice cracked.
The man coughed into his arm and pulled his handkerchief out again to blow his nose. “Let me see what I can come up with, okay?”
Harper’s heart raced. The man, while rough and cruel, had a fatherly instinct Harper recognized. Was he a dad? Of course, her own father treated her a million times better, but she could sense a strange form of love this man had for her. Whether it was because he sang to her or told her stories from time to time, it seemed as though he might have thought she was his daughter. This Heather he spoke of, maybe she was his daughter?
“Thank you, Daddy,” Harper said and held her breath. She was waiting to see what the man would say.
More silence.
Then he sniffled and choked up again.
“Daddy loves you so much, Heather,” he said. “Let me go get my growing girl some crackers.”
He pulled himself up and stumbled toward the stairs, continuing to sniffle and weep. Harper took a huge risk but trusted her instincts. If the man thought she was his daughter, could she manipulate his love for her to set her free?
Harper sat in the familiar darkness, surrounded by her thoughts, and constructed a plan in her mind. The very next opportunity she had, she would escape this place. Escape the man holding her hostage. Escape the darkness.
CHAPTER TEN
Wednesday, October 9, 2019
After meeting with Mr. Harden, Penny’s stomach growled and reminded her she forgot to pack lunch today. She looked down to her watch and saw the shorthand kissed the twelve. Inside her car, she cruised back to the office, hoping she’d had the foresight to bring extra snacks the last time she went grocery shopping. In the confines of her old vehicle, her stomach grumbled again.
Damn, chill, she thought.
She turned onto Main Street and slowed down to accommodate the handful of pedestrians walking across the street and away from Crimson’s Cookery, a petite spot with unbelievable wraps for lunch and a bakery to die for. Not literally, but close enough. After five, the menu switched over to dinner options which included home-cooked comfort food with a side of heart disease: Penny’s favorite dish was the fettuccini alfredo with a side of garlic bread.
Penny patted her belly and veered right into an open parking spot in front of the restaurant, nearly knocking over a bicycle locked around a thin tree trunk planted by the main strip’s sidewalk.
The aroma of fresh bread and sweet tea wafted through the air and tickled Penny’s senses. Typically, she ate lunch at her desk, if she even ate at all. Outside the Cookery, vines clung to the faded and chipped paint upon the building, snaking up and down the sides. A few smaller tables and chairs were left on the patio. However, the weather around this time of the year didn’t leave much to be desired for eating outside.
Penny stepped across the threshold and was greeted by the clanging of several bells on top of the door. Inside the Cookery, a few older couples and some kids, presumably either skipping school or taking advantage of their off-campus lunch privileges, sat at the vintage wooden tables. Local artwork hung beautifully on the walls, and the original tile still lay in place. The Cookery could make any patron feel like they were eating at their beloved grandparents’ house: cozy, homey, and a dash of nostalgic.
“Table for one?” Stella, the hostess, asked with her foreign Southern drawl.
“Make that a table for two,” a voice behind Penny chirped.
Penny’s stomach dropped and not because of her appetite. She turned around to find Jayson’s wife standing and looking deep into her eyes with a flicker of curiosity sparkling in the corners.
“Hey, Jennifer,” Penny said awkwardly.
“I saw you walking in, and I was hoping I could join you for lunch,” she said and rubbed the top of her belly, as big as a beach ball.
Penny waited a moment or two in hopes Jennifer would change her mind, but her pearly white smile said otherwise.
“Uh, yeah. Sure. Sounds good.”
Stella strolled to a corner booth and stepped aside, allowing the women to scooch onto the cedar benches across from each other.
“I’ll bring y’all some waters to start and let ya look at the menu,” Stella said with a smile as sweet as pie.
Penny nodded and then her gaze darted down to the menu even though she knew it by heart. She stared at the menu and wished she could pry herself away from her secret lover’s wife.
“What do you think you’re going to get?” Jennifer asked. Penny could hear the smile in her voice.
“I’m not quite sure yet,” she lied.
Jennifer folded her menu and pushed it to the end of the table with her perfectly French-manicured fingertips. She cleared her throat and Penny’s heart pulsed against her chest as if it were to explode any second. Sweat collected at her temple and more dripped down her back. The breeze from the door opening and closing every few minutes felt cool against her moist tailbone.
Why did Jennifer corner Penny at the restaurant? Why did she insist they sit together when they barely socialized, even during public events? They’d never double-dated or hung out one-on-one before. Did she know? Was she going to confront her about the affair? So many questions raced through Penny’s head, her appetite disappeared in the blink of an eye.
“So, I wanted to ask you something,” Jennifer began slowly.
Penny gulped and looked at Jennifer’s face, hoping to read her expression. Jennifer’s smiled faded, and Penny noticed the massive bags under her eyes. Her makeup was smudged a little, and her mascara flaked onto her pale cheeks. Jennifer instinctively rested her hands on her belly. Penny dug her nails into the palms of her hands. Sure, she was tough, but not “sit across from a pregnant woman and admit to banging her husband” kind of tough.
“What is it?” Her voice cracked.
“You know Jayson more than almost anyone, right?”
More beads of sweat dripped down Penny’s back, and she gulped. “Uh, yeah. I mean, I used to. Now, we’re just colleagues mostly.”
Oh my, God! Shut up, Penny! she thought.
“Do you think he’s been acting strangely lately?”
Stella returned with their waters and her tiny notebook at the ready. “Can I take y’alls’ order now?”
Penny exha
led; Stella brought a welcomed interruption. “Yeah, I’ll have the lunch special. Let’s do fettuccini alfredo with a side of garlic toast and a Caesar salad.”
Stella scribbled madly away in her notebook and nodded. “And, for you, Mrs. Owens?” Always so polite.
“I’ll just have the chicken noodle soup. I’m not very hungry,” Jennifer said with sad eyes.
Penny’s stomach churned yet again. How could she have let the affair go on for so long? She was a homewrecker, and the damage sat right in front of her, less than a foot away. She hated herself at that moment, for being the reason to cause another so much pain. She’d own up to it. She’d confess everything and beg for forgiveness. Her mother didn’t raise her to be this kind of person, the kind who ruined another’s life.
Stella nodded and strode to the kitchen, ripping the sheet off and handing the order to the cook on duty. The Cookery’s door swung open and a few more Crimsonians bopped inside. Stella greeted them, and her twang echoed throughout the wide-open room.
“What was I saying?” Jennifer asked.
“You were asking about Jayson,” Penny croaked.
Jennifer nodded with recognition and took another deep breath. “That’s right. Sorry, pregnancy brain,” she said with a shrug. “So, I think something is going on with him. Have you noticed anything different?”
Penny’s pulse quickened and she could have sworn she heard her own heartbeat. “Like what? Different how?”
“He’s been acting differently for the past few days. Well, he’s been weird for a little while now, you know, distant, but in the past few days, it’s gotten worse. He’s gone all hours of the day, smells like cigarette smoke, and he gets all sketched out if I ask any questions.”
Jennifer’s eyes bore into Penny’s with fierce desperation for the truth. Any bit of information. She needed answers, and she needed them now.
“Hmmm,” Penny said, biting her lip. After a few moments, she tasted blood swimming inside her mouth, washing over her tongue. She took a sip of water and drank until the glass was nearly empty.
“We got into a huge fight on Sunday, actually,” Jennifer said.
Penny furrowed her brow. She wondered when they could have fought. Jayson had stayed late to cover for her during layout while she went to investigate Harper’s disappearance. Did something happen when he got home?
“I actually got really upset about that little girl going missing,” Jennifer admitted and pointed to her stomach. “Hormones, ya know?”
“Well, I don’t actually know, but I can imagine,” Penny replied. “So, he started acting weird when you brought up Harper Golden?”
Jennifer nodded emphatically. “I just don’t know, Penny. I’m worried. I think he might be seeing someone else, too.”
Penny choked on the sip of water she’d just taken and suffered a coughing fit of epic proportions. Stella rushed over and patted her back.
“Lordy, Lord! Are you okay, Miss Penny?”
“I’m. Fine,” Penny squeaked. Jennifer moved to stand, but Penny waved her away. “I’m okay, really!” The last thing she needed was Jennifer to comfort her.
Stella stepped away from the table and returned a few moments later with a tray carrying their lunches. Steam poured from Jennifer’s soup and Penny’s pasta. If only she didn’t feel nauseated and weak in the knees, she might be able to actually enjoy the food before her.
“Let me know if y’all need anything else, ya hear?” Stella asked.
“Thank you,” Penny and Jennifer said in unison.
Jennifer’s head dropped toward the table as she absentmindedly stirred her soup. Her shoulders slumped and her entire body slouched while one hand still massaged her protruding belly which sat against the edge of the table.
“I think he may be regretting the decision to have kids,” Jennifer whispered.
Penny racked her mind for any recollections to support Jennifer’s theory. Jayson had been acting strangely this week, but why? It couldn’t have been guilt about their affair, considering it’d been going on for some time now and he hadn’t previously shown any remorse. The only other notable event to have happened was Harper’s disappearance. But why would it so negatively impact him to the point of starting fights with his wife and acting distant? Did he know something he wasn’t telling anyone else?
“I’m sorry, Jennifer. I’m honestly not sure,” Penny said, only half lying.
Jennifer nodded and only took a few tastes of her soup before asking Stella for a to-go container. Penny barely touched her lunch, either, but knew it’d last well enough for dinner if she could stomach it.
Something was going on with Jayson; now it was a fact, not just her imagination playing tricks on her. Penny had picked up on it, and now Jayson’s wife had, too. What was he hiding and what did it have to do with Harper Golden?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Wednesday, October 9, 2019
Penny left Crimson’s Cookery with more food in her carry-out box than in her belly. A sour taste which had nothing to do with lunch lingered in her mouth. Penny promised herself to take Jayson aside as soon as possible and break things off with him. Whatever was going on with him, it was affecting his marriage, his wife, and she didn’t want a part in it any longer.
For the longest time, she hadn’t cared who she hurt with the affair, but after seeing the pain ebb and flow within Jennifer’s eyes, she couldn’t bear to know she was the one who caused her turmoil. Just because she didn’t care about having a healthy relationship didn’t mean she could partake in ruining another’s. Jayson would have to accept it, too. She wouldn’t let him talk her into continuing their tryst. It was over, and it would never happen again.
Penny leaned against the Chronicle’s office, in the alleyway next to the Cookery. The cold surface sank through her jacket and chilled her skin. The wind whipped in every which direction and the few autumn leaves left swirled in the street as though an invisible blender mixed them about.
Out of the corner of her eye, Penny noticed a disheveled woman milling about, posting signs on every telephone pole on Main Street. The woman donned stained sweatpants and wore a messy bun atop of her head. Penny turned her head to see the woman better and realized exactly who it was: Harper’s mother. Upon further investigation, she also noticed the signs Sandy posted were missing ads for her daughter. The sheets of paper whipped in her hands, threatening to be swept away in the whistling wind.
Penny pushed off the side of the building and slowly approached Sandy in the same manner someone would greet a wounded animal.
“Mrs. Golden?”
Sandy looked up, her bloodshot eyes contrasting terribly against her pale skin. “Oh, hi,” she said wiping her nose with her sleeve.
Penny carefully reached to touch Sandy’s forearm. “I know words won’t mean much now, but I hope Harper will come home safely. Is there anything I can do for you?”
Sandy sneered. “What, you want to write another article? Your friend has already been pestering me wanting more details.”
“My friend?”
“Yeah, that other reporter,” Sandy said venomously. “Keeps calling my house.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Golden. No one at the Chronicle is writing another article on you or your daughter. In fact, we’ve been strictly told not to. Did the reporter give you his name?”
Sandy turned away and stapled another poster to the pole. Little Harper smiled in the picture, sending chills down Penny’s spine. Where was Harper now? Was she still alive? Who would take her? And why?
“Jayson, he said his name was,” Sandy said. “My husband and I have already told him we have nothing more to say.”
“I’m truly sorry, and I will talk to him right away. He won’t bother you anymore,” Penny promised.
Sandy looked up and peered into Penny’s eyes. A single tear squeezed out and slid down her face. “I’m scared,” she whispered.
Penny nodded and stepped a smidge closer to the mourning mother. “We just have to keep
our hope alive that she’ll come home soon.”
Sandy frowned. “Hope and faith aren’t going to bring my little girl home.”
Penny sighed. Entirely abandoning her typical character, she pulled Sandy into her arms and held her tightly. She felt her stiffen against her touch but slowly relaxed into the embrace. Sandy’s body quivered, and sobs erupted from deep within her throat. They held each other like that for what felt like an eternity before Sandy pulled away.
“Thank you. For your kindness,” she said. “I’m sorry I was so rude to you. I know you were just trying to do your job.”
Penny waved her away. “You have nothing to apologize for, Mrs. Golden.”
“Please, call me Sandy. Will you be coming to the vigil tomorrow? We're having one at the high school,” she said.
Penny nodded. “I’d love to.”
“Maybe you could write a small article about it?” Sandy let a weak smile escape her chapped lips.
A jolt of excitement surged through Penny. That would be an excellent opportunity for her and the paper. And, since Sandy provided her permission, Peter, in theory, shouldn’t have a problem with it. But the nagging feeling of curiosity scratched at Penny’s brain: Why was Jayson pestering the Goldens about Harper’s disappearance? He knew they were basically off limits. Instances of his continued peculiar behavior piqued Penny’s suspicions. What was going on with him?
“I’d love to,” Penny said.
An awkward silence emerged between the two women and Sandy looked down at the bleached sidewalk and shuffled her feet. “Well, then. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m going to finish putting up these signs.”
“Sounds good, Sandy. I will be there tomorrow. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you and your family.”
With that, Penny waved weakly and left Sandy to finish stapling the flyer to the telephone pole. She looked one last time over her shoulder at the solemn woman, and her heart ached. She doubted her daughter would survive her abduction. Too much time had already passed.