by Rick Mofina
“I looked at the wear bars but I’m not sure,” she’d told him. “Taking care of our cars is your job, buddy. Will you check my tires?”
“Consider it done.”
But in the days that followed he was racing to meet the deadline for his new book and she was overseeing an investigative feature at the Orange County Register, where she was a senior editor. They were putting in long hours and looking forward to getting away to their cabin with Kayla for some family time.
He’d forgotten to check Brooke’s tires.
And the next thing he knew two San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Deputies were at the cabin door, telling him his wife had been in an accident and that she didn’t survive.
The aftermath was a surreal whirlwind, Ben crying out, falling to his knees, his ears ringing with Kayla’s shrieks. In the hazy time that followed, it was as if the ground under their feet had given way and they’d plunged into an abyss.
Family and friends supported them. It helped.
Eventually his brain began to function in spurts. He and Kayla became a tight unit of survivors until they got a dog, a golden retriever they named Tug, and slowly they healed together—just the three of them. Then two years after Brooke’s death he’d met Emma. She was like grief-soothing balm, helping him move on to the next chapter of his life.
A collar clinked. Tug ambled into his office, set his chin on Ben’s lap.
Petting the back of Tug’s neck, Ben glanced at the contract next to his keyboard, eyes going to the words Delivery of Manuscript, and the legalese under the heading concerning extensions, failure to deliver and liabilities.
Unease rolled over him.
He had written more than a dozen true-crime books. He wrote his first when he’d covered a sensational murder case while working as a reporter for the Los Angeles Times. That’s where he’d met Brooke, who was also a reporter.
Ben’s debut was a national bestseller. It became a TV series. His subsequent books were also worldwide bestsellers, translated into thirty-two languages. Some became movies. He married Brooke and left reporting to write full-time. Brooke took a buyout from the Times, and they moved to Orange County. After she had Kayla, she got back into the business, becoming an editor at the Register.
But in the years after her death, Ben had not delivered a new book. He hadn’t even started one. In fact, he hadn’t even found the right case to write about while his publisher had granted him extension after extension.
“They’ve been compassionate but I’ll give it to you straight, Benjamin,” his agent, Roz Rose, had said on the phone from New York. “If we don’t give them something soon, they can legally demand you repay them every cent of advance money. Ben, losing Brooke was hard, but you’ve got Emma and you’ve moved on, so...”
Tug’s collar jingled as Ben stroked his neck.
In the wake of Brooke’s death Ben’s concern for Kayla never abated. She’d lost her mother at one of the most critical times in a young girl’s life, her adolescence. The loss was a cruel and merciless severing from which Ben feared Kayla might not recover.
Look at how she’s still struggling to accept Emma.
Ben had met Emma at a book conference in Pasadena. Normally private, he’d become more reclusive after Brooke’s death but because he’d known the organizers, he agreed to go. Emma stood in line at his book signing, telling him, “I love your books. You have a deep understanding for everyone touched by the crime—even the killers.”
Her observation stuck with him because it was true. Later, he saw her sitting alone and invited her for coffee. He’d learned that she’d studied sociology and psychology before getting a master’s degree and becoming a school counselor. She’d grown up far from California—“Oh, I lived here and there.” She told him how she had known tragedy in her life and how she had found meaning in his books.
“They’re operatic because of their scope, their consequence,” she said. “Your writing reaches a part of me.”
Ben was intrigued, captivated. With Emma he’d found the light he’d been searching for. It was behind Emma’s eyes, mingled with vulnerability. Somehow being with her felt right. It was as if she could show him the way out of his darkness. After talking for nearly an hour, he asked to see her again. They began dating and a year later, they were married.
Kayla did her best to welcome Emma into their lives. Ben knew that for Kayla, Emma’s presence had upset the equilibrium of their father-daughter universe, changed the dynamic of their survivors’ unit. He knew how hard it was. Even now, a year into their marriage Kayla was still having trouble making room for Emma in her grieving heart.
Tug’s bark pulled him from his thoughts. Someone had come in. He went to the kitchen where he found Emma.
“You’re home early,” he said reading concern in her face. “What is it?”
She stood at the counter, hands shaking, cupping her face. He got her a glass of water and she recounted her close call with Carson. Listening, nodding at the seriousness of her ordeal, he took her into his arms.
“I almost lost him, right in front of me,” she said into Ben’s chest. “There I was in my office and he was a few feet away intent on ending his life.”
“But you stopped him, Em. You saved him.”
“Yes, but it was just dumb, stupid luck.”
Tug barked, Emma lowered herself and hugged him, letting him lick her face, just as Ben’s phone rang.
“Mr. Grant, this is Shawna Voight at the attendance office of Kayla’s school.”
“Yes?”
“In keeping with our policy, I’m calling to inform you that Kayla had an unexcused absence today.”
“What?” Ben turned to Emma: “Kayla wasn’t at school today.”
“I texted her all morning. She never responded.” Emma got her phone from her purse to check it.
“Are you sure?” Ben said into his phone. “There has to be a mistake.”
“She did not attend any classes today,” Voight said. “As a result she’ll need a handwritten explanatory note when she returns. Because this is her second instance, a third will mean truancy and her case will go to the Attendance Review Board for follow-up action. And, Mr. Grant, looking at her file, a reminder that Kayla’s past behavioral incidents, her outbursts at teachers, will be taken into consideration by the Board. Sir, we’re aware Kayla lost her mother several years ago and we’ve been sympathetic but there are policies. Kayla could face suspension.”
“I understand. Thank you, Ms. Voight,” Ben ended the call.
Momentarily bewildered, he dragged his hand over his face and shook his head, barely noticing that Emma, her back to him at the counter, was staring at a letter before sliding it back into her purse.
“She didn’t go to school?” Emma said, turning to him. “Then where is she?”
Six
Cielo Valle, Orange County, California
Present day
Tug kept pace with Ben as they moved through Suntrail Sky Park. Ben scoured the grassland hills and tangled brushwood ascending the twisting pathway with a sick feeling squirming in his stomach.
Kayla had to be here somewhere. Let her be safe.
In the moments after the school had alerted them to her absence, Ben and Emma launched a flurry of texts and calls. Kayla didn’t respond. Ben then tried using an app to locate her phone but it appeared that Kayla had disabled the tracking feature. The last known location of her phone was their house. They’d searched it in vain. Then they contacted the parents of Kayla’s friends, along with their neighbors. No one had seen her.
“I’m worried,” Emma said. “She seemed so distant, so detached this morning. Where could she be?”
Ben racked his brains for the answer and came to one possibility.
“The park,” he said. “You stay here in case she comes home and I’ll search with Tug.”
Suntrail Sky Park had miles of trails connecting Cielo Valle’s neighborhoods, necklacing the surrounding communities of Lake Forest and Mission Viejo on a ridge. It had lush woodland, streams and rock formations along rising slopes that offered unbroken views of the region. Ben and Kayla loved living in Cielo Valle, which translated to Sky Valley. They liked the park for its serenity, a place to think. After Brooke died, Kayla came here to be alone, usually on Brooke’s birthday. Or the day she died.
Ben prayed this is where she was.
But today wasn’t her birthday or any other important date, he thought, just as they crested a hill. Tug’s leash tensed and Ben saw Kayla in the spot where she often came to contemplate the mountains and canyons. Sitting on a flat, sun-warmed rock, she turned at Tug’s bark, and Ben let him run to her.
She opened her arms welcoming Tug, then embraced Ben.
“We’ve been worried. The school called. We tried to reach you.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It’s just that—don’t be mad, Dad.”
“What is it?”
“It’s like...”
Seeing that she had been crying, Ben sat on the rock and took her hand. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”
Kayla brushed at her tears. “It’s like you’ve forgotten Mom.”
“What are you talking about?”
“After Mom died it was just you and me, you know? Then when you met Emma, she just... I wanted you to be happy, but it’s just that, it’s like you let Emma take Mom’s place and you’ve forgotten all about Mom and it made me sad, confused and then angry.”
Ben listened as she continued.
“I woke up this morning so angry. Oh God, it was horrible. I needed to be alone.” She turned to the view. “So I left school, went to the mall. I walked around to the places I used to go with Mom, then I came here, you know, to be with her, to remember, and I tried to think what our lives would be like if she were still alive, still with us, if you never met Emma.”
“Kayla,” Ben couldn’t find the words as she continued.
“Then,” Kayla said, “I thought, what would happen to me if you died?”
That gave Ben pause and he searched the horizon because they knew the cold truth: nothing in this world is guaranteed.
“We have Emma in our lives,” he said.
“I know, and I know you love her and everything, and that she’s a nice person. I like her, Dad, I do, but she’s not my mom.”
“I understand. But look, we’ve talked about this, Kayla. Emma is not replacing Mom. That can never happen. No one will ever replace her.”
“I know but I can’t help feeling this way, Dad.”
Ben’s jawline pulsed with his own frustration. They’d been down this emotional road many times.
“Listen, honey, I understand. You’re going through a hard time. Losing Mom was a terrible thing. There’s nothing bigger. I know that, and your school counselors know that. And Emma knows that. Want me to call Doctor Hirsch, so she can help you sort some of this stuff out?”
“No, I don’t need Doctor Hirsch.”
“Honey, I want you to listen because you need to hear this again. I’ve been married to Emma for more than a year. She’s my wife, she’s your stepmom and she’s part of our family. Your feelings about Mom are important. It’s natural to feel what you’re feeling after losing her. I don’t want you to think of Emma as your mom. But she is my wife, she is in our home, and we need to live as a family.”
“I know, Dad.”
“Maybe you should try talking to Emma about this. She’s a counselor, she knows her stuff and you know she’s had a tragic life, too.”
“But do we really know her, Dad?”
“What?”
“I just have this weird vibe about her, you know?”
“Stop.” Ben let out a long breath and dragged his hands over his face. “Stop this, Kayla. Of course we know her. I know what you’re doing—you’re putting your difficulty to accept her on her, and that’s wrong. Emma is not the problem.”
Kayla looked off, her chin quivering.
“Honey, I know you’re hurting. I understand and I’m so sorry,” Ben said, “but promise me you’ll give Emma a chance. It could help.”
“It’s just hard, Dad.”
“I know, I do. I understand, but give it time. And no more acting out or missing class. They’re sympathetic but you’re on thin ice at school. So the next time you’re having trouble, talk to me, or Emma, first. Promise?”
“All right, I promise.”
Ben rubbed her shoulders.
“I’m sorry for making you worry, Dad.”
“I know. It’s all right.” He pulled her close. “It’s been a tough day. Emma...she saved a boy today at her school.”
“Really?”
Ben relayed the incident as they started down the slope.
“See, honey,” Ben said when he’d finished. “Your stepmom’s really a good person.”
Kayla nodded. “Dad, can we maybe go to the cabin some weekend?”
Ben hesitated. Since the accident, they’d only gone a few times, some of them with Emma. He was thinking of selling it in case he had to pay back his advance. But Kayla’s request surprised him and he weighed the idea as a positive, given that it was Kayla’s.
“We’ll see. Maybe later when I get things settled on the book front. Until that time, why don’t we all go to the beach this weekend? How’s that sound?”
“I’m in.”
“Good, okay. Here.” He handed Tug’s leash to her as they walked and reached for his phone. “I’ll let Emma know we’re on our way back.”
He texted:
Found her. Safe. On our way home.
Oh, thank God, Emma responded with a heart and happy face.
Seven
Orange County, California
Present day
On Sunday they drove up the Coast Highway stopping at a beach Ben liked near Laguna. It wasn’t crowded. The three of them set up the blanket, umbrella and chairs. Then Kayla and Tug headed for the surf while Ben worked on his tablet.
Emma had a Stephen King hardcover on her lap. She had taken the note left under her wiper at school and had folded it into the pages so she could secretly study it.
SOON IT WILL BE 20 YEARS. YOUR DAY OF RECKONING IS COMING.
Who’s doing this? There’s got to be a way for me to find out before it’s too late.
She strained her mind to think of an answer but hit a wall.
Emma closed her book, keeping the note hidden, when Kayla returned with Tug sometime later, and poured some water for him into an overturned Frisbee. Ben shut off his tablet, got a rubber ball from their bag and stood.
“I’m going to take a walk with Tug. Will you two be okay alone here?” Ben smiled.
“We’ll manage.” Emma smiled back.
Tug barked his approval and they left.
* * *
Watching Ben and Tug walk away, Kayla turned to Emma.
“He’s not very subtle, is he?” Kayla said.
“He means well, Kayla,” Emma began. “The other day when you needed to be alone, well, I want you to know that I understand, and if you ever want to talk, I’ll listen.”
“I know.”
“About anything, okay?”
“Anything?”
“Yes.”
Kayla looked at Emma. “Tell me about your childhood. You grew up in Washington, D.C., right?”
“The greater D.C. area, mostly Maryland.”
“And it was pretty rough for you?”
“My dad was never in the picture and after my mom died I got shuffled around in the foster care system until I was old enough to take care of myself, get a job and work my way through college.”
“You went to college in Ind
iana, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Notre Dame, no wait, Purdue?”
“Gosh, no, I went to a smaller school in Indiana, Darmont Hill College. Then I moved here to California, where I met your dad.”
“You were about the same age as me when your mom died, right?”
“That’s right.”
“And she died in a fire?”
“A gas line ruptured at the restaurant where she worked. There was an explosion and a fire.”
“That’s horrible. You never told me that part before, only that she died in a fire.”
“Yeah, well.” Emma shrugged.
“Was your relationship with your mom a good one?”
Emma saw a man some twenty yards away wearing a floral shirt walking along the beach in front of them with binoculars hanging from the strap around his neck. He stopped and raised them to look at the sea. Emma thought he’d been watching her.
“Emma?” Kayla said.
The man continued walking.
“It was complicated. Things between us were unresolved because before she died we had an argument. I was running with the wrong crowd, getting into trouble.”
“Oh. I never knew.”
“Wild teen stuff.” Emma searched the horizon. “You know, if I’ve learned anything from my job and my own mistakes, it’s that you’ve got to choose your friends wisely. Latching on to bad influences can set your life on the wrong path.”
Emma looked at Kayla, who seemed to be coming to a decision to open up a little.
“Dad probably told you that Mom and I argued, too, the last time we talked. I wanted to go to a party at my friend Mallory’s house and Mom said no because older kids were going.”
“What did you do?”
“I freaked. I said, ‘You’re ruining my life,’ then I screamed at her, ‘I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!’ Then she left for work and later that day when she was heading to the cabin she...uhm...she...”
Tears rolled down Kayla’s face and Emma pulled her close and consoled her.
“But you didn’t mean those things, Kayla.”