What Hurts the Most: An engrossing, heart-stopping thriller (7th Street Crew Book 1)

by Willow Rose

  He gets so cranky if he doesn’t get enough sleep. It’s going to ruin the rest of my day!

  The monitor remains quiet and Cassie breathes a sigh of relief. Jared was probably just turning over in bed. She puts the monitor down, then walks to the kitchen to grab a soda from the fridge. She opens the door and peeks inside. Her hand is on the can of Coke when she hears something that makes her entire body start to tremble. It’s the voice of someone singing, singing quietly, hauntingly.

  Listening to the lyrics of her once favorite song Cat’s in the Cradle being sung over the baby monitor immediately brings her back to her past, a past she has tried so hard to forget. A past with so many bad memories it makes her hands shake. She can no longer hold on to the can of Coke and drops it on the tiles. It explodes and sprays the floor and the cabinets. Normally, Cassie would be all over it to clean it up, but not in this moment. This time, she doesn’t even notice. Not the stains it leaves on the cabinet doors, nor the pool of Coke on the tiles, not even how it soaks her socks. All she is thinking about is the baby.

  Jared!

  She grabs a knife, then storms up the stairs and stumbles on the last step; the fall buries her nose deep in the carpet. She gets up again and runs for the door to the nursery and opens it. Someone is in there. Someone is standing by the crib, her back turned toward Cassie while singing.

  “Don’t touch him!” Cassie groans. “Get away from the crib.”

  Cassie holds the knife out in front of her. It’s shaking heavily. She can’t make it stay still. The baby wakes up. He is crying.

  “Get away from my baby!” she says.

  The woman turns to look at her. She is wearing a surgical mask. She tilts her head slowly. She is still singing.

  “The Cat’s in the Cradle…”

  “Stop!” Cassie yells. “Stop it! Stop singing that song!”

  The woman stops singing. Jared is crying helplessly. Cassie takes in a deep breath. She wants to go to him, but doesn’t dare to. She is still holding the knife out in front of her. “What do you want?” she asks. “Why have you come here?”

  The woman takes a step closer.

  “Don’t!” Cassie yells. “Don’t move!”

  The woman pauses. She tilts her head once again.

  “What do you want? Answer me!”

  “Am I pretty?” she asks.

  Cassie stares at her. Her mind is only on Jared, who is demanding her attention now. “What?”

  “I asked: Am I pretty?” the woman repeats.

  “What the heck…why? Get out of my house!”

  The woman giggles, then suddenly changes expression and yells: “AM I PRETTY!”

  “Yes!” Cassie yells back. “Yes, for crying out loud. Now get the hell out of my house!”

  Jared screams loudly now, and Cassie runs to him. She looks at him and smiles, then caresses his head. “Shhh,” she says.

  When she glances back at the woman, she has taken off the mask. The sight makes Cassie gasp for air. She drops the knife in her hand and it makes a loud noise as it lands on the tiles.

  “How about now?” the woman asks.

  Chapter Forty-One

  September 2015

  “Oh, no! No. No. No!”

  Chloe is raising her hand in the air like she is waving away an annoying fly. She is shaking her head at the same time. “I don’t do that kind of stuff anymore,” she says. “It’s over. Caput. Finito. Done!”

  “Come on, Chloe. It’s me, Mary. Please, do it for me.”

  “No.”

  “Please?”

  “I can’t, Mary.”

  “Yes, you can. You can help me. You’re the world famous Dr. Claw, remember? I helped you find the name?”

  “Inspector Gadget’s nemesis, yes,” she says. “I still think the name is lame. That was your favorite cartoon. Not mine.”

  I chuckle. “I remember I thought it was so cool. Dr. Claw! Remember when they wrote about you in all the papers nationwide? You were world famous for that hack that gave you access to the White House, remember? You were so scared they’d find you. But they couldn’t even track you to Florida. They even, at one point, believed you might be someone from Russia. You were that good.”

  Chloe laughs at the memory. So do I. What an innocent time it was. I can’t believe how much has happened since then.

  “Come on, Chloe. It’s just a small peek into a police file, that’s all,” I say. “I know it’ll be a walk in the park for you. No one will ever find out.”

  Chloe sighs. “But I’m done with that stuff. It’s different now,” she says. “This is what I do now.” She points at her computer screen.

  “Cyber-security for businesses?” I ask.

  “Not that. That’s just what I get paid to do. No, this is where my heart belongs,” she says and taps on her laptop. She turns the screen so I can see better.

  “Nochildporn.org?” I say.

  “Yes. I founded it. It’s an anti-child porn organization. We use a software that I created. Software that automatically gleans information from tens of thousands of suspected URLs and tracks those that are sending and receiving data with those websites. I share my information with the authorities once I have it, and they make sure to find and prosecute the bastards.”

  I stare at my old friend, not knowing what to say. I am impressed. More than that. I just don’t know how to express it.

  “Wow,” I simply say.

  She nods her head. “So, now you can understand why I can’t help you hack into the Brevard County Sheriff’s Office.”

  I grab her arm. “But you have to help me, Chloe. Please. It’s important. You know my brother. He’ll never survive jail.”

  Chloe hesitates when I mention Blake. He was only three when I moved away, but she has been here ever since. She has seen him grow up.

  “Alright,” she says. “For Blake, I’ll do it. He’s a good kid.”

  I wonder about her change of heart. Had Blake made such a deep impression on Chloe while growing up? I shake my head. It doesn’t matter. As long as she does this for me.

  Chloe gets up from her chair and finishes her coffee. I follow her. She looks at me.

  “Remember the time when I changed your grades for you?” she asks with a mischievous smile.

  “I will never forget that,” I say. “I would never have gotten an A in Geometry if it wasn’t for you.”

  Chloe laughs. “Especially not since you were always skipping classes to surf,” she says.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  March 1979

  “Please, help us. Someone please help me.”

  Penelope storms into the ER with her baby girl in her arms. The child is throwing up. A nurse runs to Penelope.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “She’s been throwing up all morning,” Penelope says anxiously. “It won’t stop. And, suddenly, she seemed to have had a seizure of some sort, like a staring spell. I had no eye contact with her for at least three minutes. She was just gone.” Penelope talks while panting from running. She has driven there on her own. Didn’t want to wait for an ambulance.

  “She does have problems with her heart,” she says. “We’re waiting for an operation.”

  The nurse takes the baby out of Penelope’s hands. “I’ll get her to a doctor immediately. Walk with me.”

  Penelope follows the nurse down the corridor, while all the eyes in the waiting room are on her. Penelope knows what they think.

  Poor woman. It’s always the worst when it’s the little ones. So tough on the mother.

  “How old is the girl?” the nurse asks while they walk.

  “Two years old. She just turned two. We’ve known something was wrong since she was just a baby.”

  “Doctor,” the nurse calls. “This child needs immediate attention,” she says, as they approach a doctor.

  “What seems to be the problem?” he asks.

  The nurse opens her mouth to speak, but is drowned out by Penelope.

  “Vomiting.
Heavily all morning. And seizures. Staring spells. She was absent for at least three minutes. She has a heart problem. Might need a heart catheterization procedure.”

  The doctor stares at Penelope, then at the child. “Alright,” he says. “Let me take a look at her.”

  Penelope breathes a sigh of relief. She follows the doctor into an examination room, where her child is put on a big bed. Penelope stands next to her and holds her hand.

  “It’s going to be fine, baby,” she says with a smile. “The nice doctor will take good care of you. Don’t worry.” The girl, who is still very small for her age, chews on her binky.

  “Doctor?” the child says and points at the man in the white coat, who is now looking into her eyes with a flashlight.

  “Yes, doctor,” Penelope repeats.

  The nurse smiles. “That’s a big word for such a small girl.”

  “I know. She has seen her share of doctors in her short life. It’s her heart that is the issue.”

  “That is tough,” the nurse says, and puts her hand on Penelope’s shoulder.

  Penelope nods with a sigh. “It is. It really is.”

  “You can tell she is used to it,” the doctor says, and tries her reflexes. The girl’s leg reacts like it’s supposed to. “Usually, I need the mother to hold a two-year old still for examination. But not this girl. She sits nice and quiet through it all.”

  After the initial examination, the doctor pulls Penelope aside and speaks with a low voice. “We’ll be running a series of tests, and I will try and get a hold of Dr. Mussels, our pediatric neurologist, and have her take a look at her. It’s the part about the seizure that makes me nervous. You say she was out for at least three minutes? That’s a very long time. And she has a history of heart problems?”

  “Yes. We’re waiting for an operation, but no one has wanted to perform it because she is so young. I have been to every heart-specialist in Central Florida. But they all believe I am mad for wanting to perform heart surgery on this young a child. I just want to do what is best for her, Doctor. I just want her to be well.”

  The doctor places his hand on her arm and Penelope relaxes finally.

  “We’ll get to the bottom of this. Whatever is causing the vomiting and the seizures, we’ll find it and make her well. Don’t you worry about it. You’re not alone with this.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  September 2015

  They make it look so easy in the movies, but it really isn’t. I realize that as I wait for Chloe to hack into the server at the sheriff’s office. It takes hours.

  Meanwhile, I go and say hello to Chloe’s mom, Mrs. Edwards. She is awake for just long enough to hear my story. I hold her hand in mine and tell her how Joey and I grew apart, how I was fired, and how I am trying to get my brother acquitted. Even this sick, she still listens to everything I say.

  “It’ll all work out,” she finally says, right before she dozes off again. “Eventually it will. It always does. Just don’t worry too much.”

  Hearing her comforting words makes me feel a lot better. When she is heavily asleep, I walk to Chloe’s kitchen and find some Oreos in the cabinet. I eat them while waiting. When the box is empty, I make us some more coffee. I call Joey and ask if Salter can stay with him for the night. They both make a thrilled cheering sound, and I am certain I hear them doing fist bumps. They’re getting close. That’s good. Why do I feel so awful about it? Because I am left out? Am I that selfish?

  Apparently.

  I sigh and look at Chloe, who is sitting in front of her many screens, working the numbers and running her fingers across her keyboards. I have no clue what she is doing, but I am fascinated, and very impressed.

  “There you go,” she suddenly says.

  I jump up. “You’re in?”

  “Almost. I found a hole. They all have one if they don’t have someone like me to secure their systems. Now, I’ll be able to use this hole…”

  She taps eagerly, the tip of her tongue sticking out between her lips. I smile to myself because I remember she always used to do that when she was younger too. Some things never change. I know she doesn’t notice it, so I say nothing.

  “…and I am in.”

  Chloe leans back in her chair with her hands behind her head with a victorious smile. “Here you go.”

  I pull up a chair and sit next to her, while she opens the file containing the police report of Blake’s arrest. I pull my chair close to better see, and together we read through it. Most of it is a lot of technicalities written in police lingo that I don’t think is important. I ask her to go further down to the description of the arrest, and then read through it. I shake my head and read it again.

  “There is nothing there,” I say. “Not a word about any woman being with him. I was so sure…”

  “Why did you think someone was with him when he was arrested?” Chloe asks.

  “I found footprints in the studio, high-heeled footprints. And he was seen with this woman at Starbucks right before he was arrested,” I say, and pull out my picture of Olivia Hartman.

  Chloe whistles when she sees her. “Blake was involved with Olivia?”

  “That’s what the boys have told me. Apparently, he told Joey, Danny and Alex, but not me.”

  Chloe goes quiet. I look at her. “Did he tell you?”

  “What? No. No. We never spoke about his personal life.”

  “But you spoke of other things?” I ask surprised.

  “Well…no…I mean, yes…sometimes.”

  “I need the full story, please,” I say.

  Chloe avoids looking me directly in the eyes. “Okay. Okay. I helped him set up his webpage for his paintings and the other stuff he creates, to make it easier for him to sell them. You know he did coffee tables too and sculptures, and wanted a page where people could order exactly what they wanted, like ordering a pizza. We talked a lot. One thing led to another…He hung out here several days during the week. It only lasted for about a month. It was nothing, really.”

  “You’re kidding me, right? You do realize you’re fifteen years older than him, right?”

  Chloe blushes. “Of course. But, so is she,” she says, and points at Olivia Hartman. “What was it they called her back then?”

  “Double O,” I say.

  Chloe nods. “Because her last name was Owens, that’s right. I guess your brother has a thing for us older ladies, huh?”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  March 1992

  They meet on 7th Street at midnight. Ally has butterflies in her stomach. Her mother is travelling again, so she doesn’t even know she is out. Not that she would notice if she was home anyway. She is always wrapped up in her work. Always on the phone, always occupied, even when Ally walks into her study and asks her something.

  “I’m swamped here. I had a rough day. Can’t you solve this yourself? You’re a big girl, right?” is her standard answer. Even on the day when Ally wanted to tell her she got an A on her math test. Even on the day when Ally was seven and had been bitten on her arm by the neighbor’s dog and she came in to tell her. Even then, she had no time.

  “You’re late,” AK says. She hands her something. “Put this on.”

  AK pulls her ski mask over her head and covers her face. Ally does the same. AK told her to wear black from top to toe. To make sure she isn’t seen in the night. Ally wonders what they are going to do. She still hopes she is just supposed to get drunk and do something stupid, but she has a feeling that is not it. AK points at the house next to them, the one they usually do the campfire in front of. AK has something against the family living there, but she has never told Ally what it is. She always talks about how much she hates them. She once wrote a message for them using their empty beer cans after a long night of drinking.

  AK stares at the house. Ally can sense her anger, her hatred. It frightens her slightly.

  “Follow me closely,” AK whispers. “Don’t make a sound. If we get caught, it’ll be your fault, and I’ll tell the p
olice you put me up to this, that it was all your idea, all right? So you better do it right.”

  Ally swallows hard, then nods. She doesn’t dare to do anything else. She knows AK will do it. A big part of her wants to run away, to get the hell out of there, but she doesn’t dare to. She would lose everything. She would lose all of her new friends…all the trust she had worked so hard to gain. She would never have a friend in this town again.

  “All right. Let’s go AL,” AK says. She lights up her face with her flashlight like she was telling a scary story, and Ally can tell by her eyes that she is excited. Her eyes look a little mad. Ally wonders if she is.

  AK shuts off the flashlight, then signals for Ally to follow her. They sneak up towards the gate and crawl over the fence. Ally wonders if they have cameras or alarms on the house. But she can’t hear anything.

  She follows AK up the driveway towards the main entrance, but AK walks past it. She stops at a small window on the side of the house.

  “It’s broken,” she whispers. “It can’t lock.”

  Then she pulls it hard and it opens without making a sound. She looks at Ally triumphantly. “Told you so.”

  Soundlessly, AK slides through. From the inside, she signals Ally to follow her. Ally sticks her legs through and slides in as well. She lands on the floor with a thud. AK gives her a look. She wants to say she is sorry, but decides it’s better to not speak.

  AK seems to know her way around the house. She sneaks through the hallways, opening drawers, pulling out jewelry and cash that she apparently knows exactly where is stashed away. She fills her pockets with the valuables, then glides on to the next room. In the kitchen, she finds a checkbook that she steals and a wallet, where she takes a credit card and some more cash. She has a bag that she fills with CDs from the living room. Ally watches her, but doesn’t want to take anything. She grabs a photo from above the fireplace and looks at it, then lets out a small gasp. She recognizes the girl in the photo, standing between what can only be her parents. AK sneaks up behind her and looks at it too. Then she pulls it out from between Ally’s hands and throws it at the floor. She steps on it with the heel of her black boot, and the glass breaks. It makes a loud sound and the light upstairs is turned on.