“I don’t think he’s lying,” Hannah said, handing her phone to me to see what she’d been reading.
January 10, 2020
‘Widowed Father Jake Black Mournes Missing Daughter Cora Black.’
Jake Black is no stranger to loss. Ten years ago, his wife of 25 years died of breast cancer. Since then, Jake took on the responsibility of raising his then ten-year-old daughter himself. This week, however, the story turned grimmer. A week before his daughter, Cora’s 18th birthday, she disappeared.
“It’s not like her to take off without tellin’ me something. She always tells me somethin’.” Jake says.
Since his daughter’s disappearance last week, police have been monitoring the situation closely, following up with locals, doing grid searches, and checking traffic cams. It is believed that her last known location was the dog park on 45th, as her dog Otis was found wandering loose near the area.
“She’d never leave that dog. He’s all she talked about,” her dad says.
If you have any information on this evolving case, please contact local law enforcement.
I passed Hannah’s phone back to her. “So, this guy’s for real. Kings Ranch has his daughter. Why would they—”
Matteo stood from the chair in the corner, taking personal offense to my statement. “No way. This is all an elaborate plant. Why would this note be on my letterhead?” He paused, then started again. “They wanted ‘Jake’ to come to find me. They want me to feel sorry for him and run into their trap to save some imaginary girl. It’s not fucking happening. I go on my terms, when they aren’t expecting it.”
Hannah turned with her head down and left the room, I turned towards Matteo. “You can’t keep going like this. You’re not making sense. This guy’s missing daughter is all over the internet, in multiple places, with pictures and police interviews from months ago. No one can make those things look that real.”
“It’s all real,” Jake said, stirring from his sleep. “She’s all I have. I only came here because your name was at the bottom of that damn letter. I used the last of the money I had getting’ out here. This is the only lead I’ve had in months. I was just hopin’ you’d know somethin’ or I’d be able to borrow some money to Ireland.” There was a desperation in his voice that couldn’t be faked. And if Matteo didn’t give him the money, I was going to.
Matteo looked off into the other room, his eyes bloodshot, his face a pale haggard look I hadn’t seen since he rolled up from the shores of some deserted island. “If all you’re looking for is money, you can have it.” He pulled a pile of $100 bills from his wallet and tossed them onto the desperate man. “It’s all I have on me… good luck.”
I looked down at Jake. “Do you have a current passport?”
“No… I don’t… I’ve never left the country. I didn’t think… I…” Tears fell heavily from his wrinkled, solemn face. “How can I… How can I get to her? I have nothing. She doesn’t deserve this.” He pulled out his phone, then showed a photo of her at ten with another woman. “This is my baby… I did the best I could when her mom died. But… moving on after I lost my wife, after I… I failed. I failed her. I failed them both.” Sweeping waves of pain and heartbreak crashed into us as Jake lost what bit of sanity he’d been holding.
This man’s story could have been my own, and suddenly I felt an urge to hold Sophie close. I grasped the man’s shaking hand and looked him in the eyes. “None of this is your fault. You’re doing the best you can. We have a little over a week to figure this out. We’ll do what we can to help.”
Matteo shot me a look with grinding teeth. “And what are ‘we’ going to do Kevin?”
“I’m going to find him a place to stay, and you’re going to get him a passport.”
Chapter Ten
Matteo
If anyone were going to be the death of me, it’d be fucking Kevin. I hated that Hannah was with him, and every minute of the last day has been torture thinking of what bullshit he is telling her. Really though, I was to blame. If I hadn’t pushed her away in Alaska, she’d never have met him and maybe I wouldn’t need his ability to hack security systems. I wasn’t jealous, I was concerned. Kevin was smart, well-spoken, mild-tempered, awkwardly handsome, and soothing in a way that drew Hannah in. And Hannah was beautiful, incredibly loving, impulsive, vulnerable, and filled all emotional voids with sex. I didn’t fault her for it, it worked for us, and I trusted her, but I didn’t like the idea of leaving her while we were still in such turmoil.
I rubbed at my eyes, took a swig of warm water, then laid back on the hotel pillow. I didn’t want to stay in Tahoe. I wanted to figure this out in Italy so I could jump fast if needed, but I had to figure out this Jake guy first. If his daughter really had been taken, then Kings Ranch was far larger than I’d originally thought and calling local authorities, as the letter said, would be a hindrance. But getting a passport in the next three days wasn’t a possibility, and I wouldn’t even know where to start finding him a fake one.
As of now, the best plan I have is to fly Jake and I in on the private jet, then pay people off to look the other way regarding his passport. A ranch the size of Kings Ranch would have a lot of hands. Surely someone was fired, and for a few bucks, they’d talk. I can use Jake to question locals, so I can stay under the radar until we formulate a plan to get into the house. I just need them to see I can outsmart them—that I’m not afraid to get blood on my hands if necessary. And if the ranch does happen to have Jake's daughter hidden away, then we take her back. Maybe then, we can convince some better-doing cops of what sick shit Kings Ranch is doing, and we can all move the fuck on. That of course, is the best-laid plan; which as we know is what the devil fools us with.
I was missing one powerful component—the basement cameras. Which is where most of the action was to be taking place. While Kevin was getting me video feeds of most of the ranch on-goings, I was missing a key room—the basement.
Reaching towards the end table for the burner phone, I broke my own rules and dialed Kevin, though I was hoping Hannah would answer first—she didn’t.
“What’s going on? You said we shouldn’t use this phone but for emergencies,” Kevin said, sounding rather irritated.
“Where’s Hannah?” The words came out roughly as though that were the reason I’d called.
“She’s trying to sleep, it’s nearly 10 PM. Did you get the passport thing sorted?”
“I have no way of getting him a passport in three days. I’m going to have to take care of this myself, but I need to see the basement feed. For some reason, I can see everything but that.”
“I will take a look, but it’s going to take time.”
“How much time?” I asked, with more bark than I meant.
Kevin’s voice pitched and echoed with sarcasm, “I don’t know, a week. I know we’re on a crunch, but if I didn’t see it the first time, it’s most likely on a hidden server.”
“You hacked the first fucking system in 24 hours. Now you need a week?”
“That’s what I said. A week.”
I rolled my eyes but held back contempt. “How’s Hannah? She sleeping well?”
“The truth? No. She’s constantly worrying and barely eating.”
“Well, you’re supposed to be distracting her. Take her somewhere. Do something. She likes to hike… it’s spring. Take her out.”
“Is there a purpose to this call, or are you bored?”
I ignored his derision. “Where is this Jake guy staying?”
He paused long enough that I wondered if he was going to answer, then cleared his throat. “I found him a motel downtown. I figured it was best we kept our distance until we know more.”
“Finally, we agree on something.”
Kevin sighed and lowered his voice. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Yeah, you can get this fucking basement feed up so I can help the guy you promised ‘we’d’ help.”
He paused, then lowered his voice. “You really have a way with people, anyone ever tell you that?” The phone then went dead. I sat up in the bed and thrashed the sheets off in anger. I was admittedly impatient and sleep-deprived. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. I was supposed to be in some exotic locale with my bride to be, kissing under a million stars. Now, the only arms she had were Kevin’s—and Kevin sure as fuck didn’t have my best interest at heart.
Chapter Eleven
Hannah
I’d been touching myself multiple times a day, though nothing really quelled the urges. Instead, my vibrator dulled the ache into a soft throbbing that allowed me to get through. I had enough self-awareness to know that when I couldn’t control things emotionally, I tried to control them physically. It made sense, and I wanted to stop it, but my nerves felt addicted to coming, addicted to the rough scraping that I felt when a warm, thick cock pushed inside of me. And the more I obsessively watched the video feeds at Kings Ranch, the more stressed I got. The more stressed I got, the more I needed to release. I couldn’t help but watch the feed. And though Kevin had begged me to stay away from the computers—when he was gone, I was like a mouse in a kitchen made of cheese—hoping I’d catch anything Matteo may miss so I could warn him. But the stress was overwhelming, and sex was most literally my drug. It was a short freedom that made me feel at ease, euphoric, and satisfied in ways I couldn’t explain. The urge always got more intense when I tried to turn it down. If it didn’t feel so damn good, I’d call it a curse.
With the laptop to my right displaying the monotony of surveillance footage, I pulled a small bullet vibrator from my bag and tucked it into my panties. It was only noon, and this was the third time today the vibrator had met my clit. The sensation was getting boring, but it did the job. I switched my phone to a racy video I’d saved on the internet. A live feed Matteo and I had recorded a month ago. It was dark, and black masquerade masks hid our faces, but the intensity of the moment was there. And that’s what I needed to get over the edge.
Kevin wouldn’t be home for another two hours. I stretched out my legs, tightening and releasing the muscles as I worked the small vibe along my clit. We’d filmed the video in the cockpit of his jet. Him, the lonely pilot; me, the insatiable flight attendant. We’d even bought costumes to play the part. I entered the pit, bending away from him to clean a spilled drink. The skirt was short, revealing a tiny pink thong tucked into my round ass. He reached out his hand, cupping my full cheek for a squeeze. I turned, shot him a coy smile, then bent my breasts into his face as I unzipped his pants. His cock was hard and eager, thrashing with anticipation. I climbed onto his lap, feeling the heavy touch of his hands on my hips, as I took him in beneath my skirt—my tiny thong now pushed to the side.
Pushing harder, I drove the tiny metal bulb harder into my clit. In the video, Matteo gathered my long blonde hair in his hand pulling at the bunch slightly as I bounced. Tiny sighs of pleasure spilled from our lips as he pursued my depths. I tightened my muscles and closed my eyes, arching back against Kevin’s office chair to the sounds of Matteo until I’d orgasmed into a slight coma.
Reluctantly, I stood, pulled down my dress, cleaned up, then went to the kitchen for a snack. I hadn’t been eating right since we got back from Mexico, and my body was starting to respond with heavy headaches nearly every afternoon. Tired of the pain, I figured it was time I forced some food. Kevin kept a well-stocked pantry, mostly with snacks for children like teddy grahams, crackers, tiny easy-peel oranges, and fruit snacks. Thankfully, even in my early thirties I still preferred eating like a child. I reached for an easy-peel orange, sat at the bar, then scrolled through my phone. I’d missed a call from Jake. I dialed his number back, he answered on the first ring.
“Hey, Jake. It’s Hannah… I saw you called…”
“Hey, Hannah… any word on the passport?”
“Nothing yet. Matteo has your number though. I know he hasn’t stopped working on it. We want to help as mu—”
“You don’t know half of what I’ve been through.” His words were slurred like he’d been drinking. “My wife died six years ago. We met in college. Twenty years we spent together. Twenty… years… how do ya just move on from that? How do ya tell your ten-year-old daughter her mom is dead?”
“I—”
“I threw myself into work ‘cuz that’s what I thought Cora needed. A provider, someone to pay the bills and put meals on the table… but that’s not what she needed at all. She needed a fucking dad. A father…” He paused to swallow—what I only assumed was another swig of whatever he was drinking.
“You can’t blame—”
“But I wasn’t her father. I was a shell. I left her to do the laundry, clean the house, make the meals, do her homework. Shit, she even walked herself to school every morning. And the years… the fucking years… they passed like days while I picked up overtime every chance I got ‘cuz I didn’t know what else to do with myself. All while this little girl raised herself.” He choked.
“Death is a very per—”
“And ya know… that girl never asked for a damn thing. Birthdays, Christmas, nothin’. But when she was 15, she asked to rescue a dog from the shelter she’d been volunteerin’. At first, I hated the idea. The last thing I needed was another mouth to feed, another life to worry about. But she… she looked just like her damn mother with those eyes… those big brown eyes… they were so dark and sympathetic… I just couldn’t say no.” His voice shook when he spoke. “So, she brings this dog home… Otis… he’s a mutt of some kind… a big dog… aggressive-looking bastard, but he acts like a baby. She walked him, loved him, took care of everything. They were the best of friends… even took him to the dog park every day after school.” He exhaled, “And that… that dog park was the last place she saw. Whoever took her left the dog wandering and grabbed Cora.”
“You can’t blame yourself. You did the best you could with—”
“The cops took her computers and checked her phone records. They told me she probably got sick of her old man and took off. That bein’ almost 18 she needed her independence. They found nothing in those computers though. No Google search for apartments, or jobs, or far off cities. Matter fact, her last search was ‘what does it mean when my dog lays his head on my lap’.” Jake let out a cough that sounded as though a chuckle caught with tears. “You have to hear me Hannah…. Cora was a good kid. A good kid despite me doing everything fucking wrong. I let her down. I let her mother down. And I have to make this right. I have to get her back. And I will kill for it. I will kill these mother fuckers. I am ready to die for her. She has to know how much I love her…” His speech had sped up, he was clearly in pain.
“I’m sure she knows how much you love her.”
“Maybe if I’d said it she’d know. But I don’t remember the last time I told her. And I’m feelin’ like a real fuckin fool right now for layin’ around depressed thinkin’ she was dead for the last three months when I shoulda been out there lookin’. I shoulda been out there, givin’ it my all. But I couldn’t, I had nothin’ left. After the searches were over, I fell into the couch and didn’t get up until I got that letter. My money’s gone, and the bank’s about to take the house. And ya know what?” He took another swig. “Let ‘em. Let ‘em take it all. Cause nothin’ fuckin’ matters if I don’t get Cora back.” He paused. “Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Just call me the second ya hear from Matteo. I… I need this. Y'all are my last hope.”
My stomach turned. “I will. We’re going to do all we can for you.” With that, he hung up the phone, and I returned my concentration to the laptop for only a moment before Kevin walked in. He was early.
I turned to greet him. “Hey, how was your day?” I asked, trying not to notice how his biceps popped from the button-down shirt he wore.
“Hannah, you look exhausted. Have you slept or eaten?”
I looked down at the orange I’d started to peel. “I started too
, but then Jake called and I didn’t get very far. I feel so bad for him. He’s lost so much.”
Kevin kicked off his loafers and made his way towards me sitting on the barstool in the kitchen. “That’s why I’m home early. Matteo called last night, I guess he’s missing the basement feed, so I have to work on that.” He pulled the peanut butter from the pantry and scooped a heaping tablespoon onto a small plate with a sliced apple. “Sorry, guess I’m used to feeding Sophie.”
I smiled and stood to meet him at the other side of the counter, but when I lifted my body a wave of dizziness swept over me, forcing me back onto the stool.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I am I just—” I stood again, brushing off the dizziness, but this time, I felt breathless as the room spun round and round. I sat again finding it difficult to keep my balance on the backless stool.
Kevin rushed to my side. “Hannah…” he sounded like he was underwater. “Hannah!”
I closed my eyes, trying to regain focus, but instead, darkness took over.
Chapter Twelve
Kevin
I knew all she needed was rest, that the breathlessness was most likely anxiety, but I called a doctor to be safe. Not many doctors do house calls anymore, but I’ve been friends with this guy since college who looks over Sophie for me. The best part, he diagnoses Sophie at home for me, and I give him free pet care—this seems more than fair considering Sophie gets to avoid germ infested doctors’ offices.
When ‘Dr. Mark’ (as Sophie calls him) arrived, he let himself in and met us in the bedroom. I’d carried Hannah to the bed when she passed out and taken to watching her chest rise and fall as I waited for Mark.
“Thought I told you to stop drugging women,” Mark laughed, pulling the corner chair up to the bed. He opened the black medical bag he carried and pulled out a stethoscope. “Anything happen, or did she just pass out?”
“She got dizzy, then just passed out. She’s been under a lot of stress… hasn’t been sleeping or eating well.”
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