FullDisclosure

by Soarde, Nikki

  She was so tired of it. But at the moment she didn’t see any way out of the victim’s role. At least not until he opened up this damn trunk. She wondered what Jake would do when he found the apartment empty.

  On their way out, she’d managed to knock over an end table and send a picture crashing to the floor. She hoped that was enough to send Jake the message that she’d been taken against her will.

  If he got into the apartment, of course. Rufus had locked it up tight.

  Overwhelmed with frustration and hopelessness, she began to cry.

  Rachel was staring at him, her eyes so wide and unblinking he felt as if he was in danger of falling in. He’d finished his tale—told her of his feelings for both Sadie and Jake, how he’d struggled with his own sexuality and finally come to the decision that his happiness was far more important than fitting into some box that society deemed proper and respectable.

  And although she hadn’t said a word and her expression communicated awe and disbelief, he had continued. He had told her of her own conception—how an opportunistic and sadistic man had taken advantage of his and her mother’s youth and vulnerability. He’d told her how they had clung to each other out of a sense of isolation and desperation. They had felt they had nowhere else to turn. They’d had only each other.

  And now his daughter sat there, still staring at him, her expression more of a blank than ever. He had no idea what she was thinking—and wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

  “Do you understand?” he asked at last. “Do you understand that what we went through is a huge part of the reason your mother shut herself off from the world up in that commune? And turned to God so completely? She felt used and abused and guilty all at once. She’s doing her penance and hiding herself away.” On an impulse he grasped Rachel’s hand. “And do you understand how unhealthy that is? How miserable she must be?” He took a deep, shaky breath. “I want better for you, Rachel. A life lived in guilt and fear is no life at all.”

  She blinked, and he thought he saw a tear squeeze out of her eye—but she looked away too quickly for him to be sure. She drew her hands from his—not quickly in anger, but slowly, gently, like someone trying to wake from a dream.

  “Talk to me, Rachel. Please. Ask questions, throw out accusations. Yell at me if you like. Anything is better than this silence.”

  And at last she did. “Why?” The word came out as a harsh cry.

  But he was confused. “Why what? Why do I love Jake?”

  “Why now? Why did you wait so long to tell me? And why spring it on me now, just when I’ve found out about Noah’s betrayal as well?”

  His heart hardened a little at that. “Noah didn’t betray you, Rachel. And although I may not have been honest with you from the beginning, the only person I was truly lying to was myself.”

  She shook her head, turned away.

  His anger bloomed. He stood, his heart racing with sudden passion. “Do you have any idea what it’s like? To feel like you have to hide something in yourself, something so deeply ingrained and essential to your very being—to have to hide that from the people you care about? To feel like if you allow your true self to shine through, you’ll face rejection? Judgment? Ridicule? And not from strangers, but from the people who mean the most to you?” He clenched his fists. “You put yourself in denial. You try to tell yourself that it’s not true, because it’s easier that way. It’s so much easier to lie to others if you lie to yourself first.”

  Her back was to him. He couldn’t see her face, but it no longer mattered.

  “Until finally you figure out that you can’t truly love anyone, or allow yourself to be loved until you love yourself. And in order to do that, you have to be honest with yourself too. You have to accept who you are, and love every part of you.” He sighed, his anger almost spent. “It took me more than forty years to figure that out. I wasted a lot of time trying to be what others expected of me, only allowing my true self to shine through in secret. Scurrying around in the shadows like a rat. I’m not a rat, Rachel. I’m a person, a good man with honesty and integrity and something amazing to offer the world.

  “I’m through with it—through with the hiding and the lying and the denial. I’m just glad that Noah has sense enough to not put himself through it. He figured it out early, no doubt thanks to the struggles his father went through. Even if you don’t accept me and love me anymore, Rachel, maybe I can give you that. You need to learn to live your life for you. Not for your mother or your God, or even for Noah. If you don’t live for yourself first, it’s all a lie. You’re not really living at all.”

  She turned to him, her face streaked with tears. “That’s not what I was taught!” she shot back. “That’s just plain selfishness!”

  He shook his head. “No. No, it’s not. It’s realism. But you have to figure that out on your own. I’m out of words.”

  “So am I.” She ran to her room, slamming the door behind her.

  Exhausted, Evan sank back onto the couch and dropped his head into his hands. It had gone no worse than he’d envisioned, but that didn’t make it any easier. He’d lost her. But hopefully he’d found himself in the process.

  Maybe he’d call Jake and see if he could meet him over at his place. He figured his daughter needed her space right now.

  Just as he was considering dialing Jake’s number, it appeared on his phone.

  Smiling with relief, he clicked on. “Hey, man. You guys done already? I can’t wait to see you.”

  “Yeah. And I need to see you too.” Something in Jake’s tone had Evan sitting forward on the seat. “Something’s wrong, Ev.”

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “It’s Sadie. She’s gone.”

  Evan blinked in confusion. “What do you mean, gone?”

  “I dropped her off at her apartment. I wasn’t even gone an hour, and when I got back the place was locked up tight and she didn’t answer the door. I was afraid maybe she was hurt or something so I broke in.”

  “And?”

  “Like I said. She’s gone. Not here. Place is empty as a fuckin’ tomb.”

  “Maybe she just popped out to get something.”

  “No. There’s more. The place is messed up a bit. There was a struggle. And—now don’t laugh but—I smell Old Spice. The place reeks of it.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “I’m not sure, but I know Sadie doesn’t wear it!”

  “Somebody else was there.” Evan felt sick.

  “Yeah. Should I call the cops, do you think? What should we do?”

  “Jesus. I don’t know. The cops don’t usually do anything until somebody’s been missing twenty-four hours, do they?”

  “I guess not.”

  Evan raked his hand through his hair. Then it hit him. “Karey. Let’s find Karey. She’s had more contact with Sadie the last few years. And she’s a lawyer. Maybe she has some ideas. Or some contacts. Or…something.”

  “Okay. You call her and see where we can meet her. In the meantime I’ll see if anybody in this building saw anything.”

  “Good idea. I’ll be in touch.”

  Rachel lay on her bed and gazed blankly out the window. The blue sky, brilliant and clear, unmarred by a single wisp of cloud, seemed to taunt her with its simplicity and beauty. Why couldn’t life be like that? Beautiful. Simple. Easy.

  All she wanted was to live a life worthy of God. A life of meaning and purpose. A life that would be the fulfillment of what the Lord and her Church wanted—no expected—of her.

  She squeezed her eyes shut as her father’s words came back to haunt her. He was right that she was trying to live her life for others, but he was wrong that that was a bad thing. Wasn’t he?

  Wasn’t it horribly selfish to be so focused on your own happiness? The rules, standards—and yes the morals—were there for a reason. Humanity needed guidance. They needed direction, and who better to give that direction than the Lord? The trouble was discerning what that direction actually w
as. So many people interpreted the Scriptures so differently. How was it that her mother’s church and Noah’s church both read the same scriptures, yet came away with such different interpretations?

  It was all so confusing. There were so many scriptures, so many opinions. How was one young girl to make sense of it all? How was she to know the truth? What was the key? There had to be one.

  She just had to figure out what it was.

  She reached for her phone and called her mother.

  “Rachel? Hi, honey! Oh, I’ve missed you. How are you?”

  Rachel told her. As quickly and concisely as possible, she told her everything.

  When she finished there was a long, poignant silence on the other end of the line. “Your father had no business telling you all that.”

  “But it’s the truth, isn’t it? Don’t I deserve the truth?”

  “That truth is irrelevant now. It just stirs up old hurt, old pain. I’ve forgotten all about it. And so should he.”

  Why did Rachel have trouble believing that? Her father’s words still rang in her ears. If what he said was true, then what had happened more than twenty years ago still affected her mother deeply. It affected every decision she made, was a shadow over every breath she took. And how could it not be? The story she’d heard had been brutal, tragic, devastating. It seemed to Rachel that “forgetting” it wasn’t really an option. But what did that leave?

  “I don’t think it’s that easy, Mom.” Had she heard herself right? Was she defending her father? The man who had lied to and betrayed her?

  But it wasn’t betrayal, he had said. If so, then what was it?

  “Well, it was for me,” retorted her mother. Her words merely served to reinforce Rachel’s conviction that it had not been easy. It still wasn’t easy. Not by a long shot. So now her mother was lying to her? Then she realized that her mother had lied to her for years. And now that she’d been confronted with her deception she was intent on continuing it. At least her father had come clean. If there was one thing she believed without a shadow of a doubt through all this, it was that he had been completely honest with her that afternoon. And from now on, there would be no more lies. Could she say the same of her mother? The woman who professed to be a dedicated child of God?

  “Mom, can I ask you something?”

  Her mother’s voice softened. “Of course, honey. Ask me anything.” Again, Rachel had a moment of doubt. Rachel sincerely doubted that she could ask her mother anything. There were obviously a lot of questions her mother had no interest in answering.

  But Rachel pressed on, regardless. “Are you happy?”

  Another long pause. “What? What a ridiculous question.”

  That just made her angry. “No, it’s not. It’s a very valid question. And a simple one. Yes or no. Easy.”

  “Well, I find that very impertinent. It’s none of your business if I’m happy.”

  “Mother, please. I’m not asking to pry. I just…I’m very confused and I want to know if—”

  “All right. Of course I’m happy. That’s why it upset me. It’s such a silly question. Anyone who knows me can see how happy I am.”

  Another lie! Rachel was startled by the vehemence with which those words came to her mind. Her mother was miserable! Rachel had been blind to it before, but now that she’d been outside the commune and seen how other people lived, the scales had fallen from her eyes.

  Her mother did her work at the commune dutifully enough, but her complaints were frequent and bitter. She barely had any friends, and turned up her nose at anything remotely resembling a romantic advance. She judged people for the most insignificant transgression, always finding fault and rarely having reason to praise or rejoice. She barely smiled and never laughed. Her mother looked old.

  “You need to come home, Rachel,” her mother was saying. “Come back to those who love you and we’ll help you find yourself again.”

  “What about Noah?” she asked, suddenly feeling lost. “What about the sin I committed?” And I love him, Mom. I love him so much. She couldn’t say those words but they were there. Deep and undeniable.

  “You’ll be forgiven. But I dare say you should never see him again. He’s a bad influence. Him and that so-called church of his. They’ve led you astray, honey. You need to find your way again.”

  “Yes.” She nodded slowly. “I think I do.”

  “Good. I’ll book you a flight out today.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rufus was beginning to panic. He’d been unable to contact Cyril, and yet one instruction was clear—keep Sadie alive until Cyril could speak to her. But how could he talk to Sadie if Rufus couldn’t find him? And the pounding in the trunk had gotten distinctly weaker. It had to be hot and stifling in there. He should probably pull over and let her out for a while. Let her breathe. But the streets were so busy today. Where could he go so that he wouldn’t be seen?

  And speaking of not being seen, where had Cyril disappeared to? Where the fuck was he? Why wasn’t he answering his phone? What the hell was Rufus supposed to do?

  Think, he told himself. Where is Cyril likely to be? He had told Rufus he was staying home that day. That he had planned to get some work done there. So that was the most likely place to start, of course. The trouble was, Cyril did not like Rufus sniffing around his house. Then again, maybe if he was in uniform!

  That was it! If he showed up in full uniform and the wife answered the door, he could use the excuse that he was questioning neighbors about a recent robbery down the street. Cyril’s wife didn’t know Rufus. At least Rufus didn’t think she did. Hell, the only reason he knew what she looked like was from the photo on Cyril’s desk.

  Yes. That was the plan. He just needed to run back to his place to get his uniform. It wasn’t far, and once inside his own garage he could open the trunk and give the bitch some air. He grinned. And maybe he could get something from her as well. Just for all the trouble she was putting him through. It was the least she owed him.

  Sadie could barely breathe. The trunk certainly wasn’t airtight, but the heat combined with the lack of airflow was combining to make her feel lightheaded and nauseous. She was drenched in sweat and her feet had gone numb. The tape is too tight, she thought absently. In truth she’d begun to feel slightly disconnected from her entire body. The only thing she remained fully aware of was the small screwdriver tucked into the back of her jeans.

  She’d been groping around hopelessly. Considering her very limited range of motion, it was hardly surprising that she’d found nothing but lint and candy wrappers. But then Rufus had gone around a corner a little faster than usual and something had rolled across the bottom of the trunk. It had lodged against the crook of her knees and, with a little wiggling and cajoling, she’d managed to get her hands on it. It was a screwdriver. She was sure of it. And the flat tip was sharp enough to do some damage. She just couldn’t decide if the fact that it was barely six inches long was a bonus or a detriment.

  Of course, being small it was easier to conceal. Rufus would be very unlikely to notice it tucked into her waistband underneath her rumpled shirt. But with such a small weapon how much damage was she likely to do?

  Also, she’d be able to do nothing if her hands remained bound as they were. She’d tried using the sharp tip to work at the tape around her feet, but her position and the tight quarters had made it virtually impossible. Unfortunately she’d never been very flexible.

  Although she’d surprised herself the night before.

  Unbelievably that thought brought a smile to her lips. And then the tears returned in earnest. If she didn’t get out of this she’d never see Evan and Jake again. She was sure of it. Rufus’ behavior had convinced her. He meant to kill her. Although the recipient of his phone calls remained a mystery, it was very clear to her that Rufus was merely waiting for some sort of final go-ahead for the inevitable.

  But why? Was she being held for ransom? Of course that was ridiculous. Although Evan was wealthy enough, her a
ssociation with him was so recent and so nebulous that it was highly unlikely anyone was aware of it. Let alone aware enough to hatch a kidnapping plan.

  No. That couldn’t be it. Who else had reason to harm her?

  Just as an idea began to niggle at the back of her brain, Rufus went over a bump far too fast and she slammed into the lid of the trunk. She fought nausea, barely managing to stay conscious.

  In the darkest corners of her mind she said goodbye to Evan and Jake—and to the bright, happy future she had finally allowed herself to believe could be hers.

  “This is crazy.” Jake took a corner too fast and had to slam on the brakes when he came up against a wall of traffic. “What the hell are we going to say to him?”

  Evan braced his hand against the dashboard, then thought better of it. Considering Jake’s erratic driving, the last thing he wanted to do was interfere with the air bag. “We’re just going to ask if he has any idea where Sadie might be. Simple.”

  “And he’ll laugh in our faces. And then we’ll…what? Demand to search his house?”

  Evan’s temper spiked. “Well, what the fuck do you propose? This is all we’ve got! The police won’t do anything yet. They’d tell us she might have just gone shopping, or popped out for coffee. She’s barely been missing for two hours!”

  Karey’s only ideas had revolved around Cyril Ballantyne. If her investigation into Philip’s life insurance panned out, Cyril stood to lose. And he stood to lose a lot.

  “I know.” Jake’s grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white. “I know.”

  “Cyril’s not only our best bet, he’s our only bet.”

  “But the guy that neighbor said she saw Sadie leaving with does not fit Cyril’s description. Cyril is tall, blond and vaguely Aryan. Short, dark and greasy hardly matches that. In fact—”