by JoAnn Durgin
After disconnecting the call, Caty stared at her cell phone as if the device could somehow answer the burning questions in her mind.
Chapter 12
Parking his Porsche in the garage, Caleb cut the engine and climbed out of the car. As he entered the kitchen, he had one thing on his mind—cold water. He’d already drained his water bottle on the way home from the club after three rousing games of racquetball against a tough adversary. Grabbing a glass, he filled it with water from the fridge and downed it in three seconds flat. Then repeated the process a second time.
What had possessed him to call Caty at home? That’d been a harebrained move. His heart had pumped like a hormonal adolescent when she’d answered, and it wasn’t from the energy he’d expended on the racquetball court.
Facing the window, Caleb rested his arms on the edge of the sink. Outside, the sun shone brightly. He loved this view of the backyard but made a mental note to hire a landscaping service. The pool was large enough for Lauren to swim laps and well-hidden from view. He cranked open the window so he could hear the soothing sound of the small, cascading waterfall. Rotating his right shoulder, he knew he should relax his muscles in the Jacuzzi at some point later in the day.
The home was older, built forty years ago, but as such, it held unique character and charm that a newer home lacked. That’s one of the primary reasons he’d wanted this particular home. There’d only been one other family who’d occupied the home, an oil executive and his wife. They’d raised their family here, and after his death ten years ago, his widow had maintained and updated the residence. Several months ago, she’d moved to where one of the daughters lived in Arizona.
He’d snapped up the house after only one visit, armed with a glowing inspection. The mature trees provided natural shade and privacy. The owner’s flower garden had been her pride and joy, her solace after her husband’s death, according to his Realtor. The evidence of the widow’s loving care, a lasting and beautiful memorial, bloomed in brilliant color outside the window. Oliver lived in the small guest cottage on the property and, in addition to being Lauren’s driver, he was an expert gardener.
The need to pray seized Caleb. He hadn’t prayed a legitimate prayer, something beyond the rote and routine, in so long he couldn’t remember. Certainly not much since Helena’s death. He’d listened to prayers here and there, but not so much in recent years. The words of the prayers of others had flowed over him, tickled his ears and warmed his heart, but they’d never made their way into his conscious mind or penetrated his heart. As a result, he’d been left empty and isolated. He had no one to blame but himself.
Lowering his head, Caleb started to pray. What was that sound? Still holding the glass, Caleb turned away from the sink. He almost spit out his last gulp of water, nearly dropped the glass, when he spied Lauren.
Leaning against the doorjamb, his daughter stared at him through big blue eyes—vacant and accusing—that reminded him of her mother. Otherwise, she resembled him with her height, shape of the nose and lips, and her dark hair.
He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth and set the glass on the counter. “I didn’t know you were in the kitchen.”
“Technically, I’m not in the kitchen.” Lauren smirked, as much from being called sweetheart as anything else, he imagined.
“I don’t know when you ever got to be smarter than me,” he said. Not a great start to the conversation, but it was something. He’d tried his best to make it sound like a compliment instead of a sarcastic snarl. Whether or not the move to Houston was a good thing for her and their strained relationship was currently up for debate. All he knew was they’d both been dying a slow death in Dallas.
“What were you doing just now?”
“Well, Lauren, I thought it was time to start praying again.”
In response, his daughter crossed her arms and stared at him. “Is it okay if I go out?”
Caleb’s jaw clenched. “You know the rules.”
Rolling her eyes, she let out a sigh of extreme disgust. “Why can’t I go out with my friends?” She lifted her chin in defiance, an action that reminded him all over again of Helena and made it more difficult to escape the little things that niggled at him. The saddest fact? Even if she were still alive, Helena might not have been the best influence on their daughter. Maybe that wasn’t fair. Everyone could change. Her death had certainly changed him.
“I’m happy to know you’re making friends here in Houston.” After refilling his glass again, Caleb carefully considered his next words. He couldn’t push Lauren so far that he’d lose her permanently. He was precariously close to the precipice—or at least the point of no return—as it was. And she wasn’t even a teenager yet. He was in big trouble.
Somewhere along the way his sweet little Lauren had morphed into this sullen preteen—dressed in somber colors and drab clothes—who rarely smiled and treated him with disdain. At least she hadn’t started wearing makeup yet or she’d probably ring her eyes with black and look like a raccoon. Wear horrible black lipstick. Pierce body parts better left alone that should never have holes in them. If God didn’t put it there, why make one?
Think positive. He couldn’t tell her of the dangers of this new city until he had time to ensure her protection. No way would he allow her to go anywhere with someone he didn’t know, hadn’t met, or hadn’t thoroughly investigated. He suppressed his sigh. Their situation was anything but normal. When did life get so complicated?
“Dad, don’t you think I know what you’re doing?”
Caleb’s heart thudded in his chest. This should be enlightening. He was thankful she hadn’t stormed away from him as per the norm lately. Had Lauren figured out what was happening? Did she know what could have happened several times in Dallas in the past three years? What almost happened at least once? The most frightening probability was that it happened more times than he realized. Detectives everywhere, not only in Dallas, had tons of cases and were short on manpower.
Finished with his water, he lowered the empty glass into the sink while he gathered his thoughts. “Why don’t you tell me?” His stomach felt sour and his head ached from nothing to do with coming down from the natural high of his racquetball victory. The physical release had been welcome. Exercising his body was one of the best ways of dealing with his stress or he might have spontaneously combusted a long time ago.
“That’s just like you! Half the time you don’t even give me a straight answer.” Lauren’s voice was laced with derision, making Caleb cringe. What had he done to deserve that from his daughter when all he’d tried to do was love her? Protect her?
“Lauren, baby, you’ve got to trust me.”
“I’m not a baby, and you want to keep me a prisoner in this house! You might as well put bars over the windows and put deadbolt locks all over me.”
Caleb shook his head. “No, that’s not what I’m doing. And like it or not, you are—and always will be—my baby girl.” Stiffening, he inhaled a deep breath. “Believe it or not, it’s all about protecting you.”
Blue eyes challenged him. “Tell me what’s really going on. Or else I’m walking out of this house, and I might not come back.” What was she going to do, scale the gates or climb the high brick walls around the perimeter of the property?
He’d had enough. “You’re twelve, Lauren. You can’t walk out of this house, and you won’t.” He tried to steady his breathing. If she pushed him hard enough, he might lose whatever control he still possessed.
“I have friends who are older. They said I can hang out with them. Or I can go back to Grandma Reid in Dallas.”
“Hang out?” He started to step closer to her but stopped. Forced a few deep breaths. No way would he consider sending Lauren away. Anything but that. Although his mother was an infinitely better choice than anyone else, doing so would be the kiss of death to any relationship he hoped to have with her now or in the future. “Who are these friends?”
Lauren shrugged and dropped her gaze.
“A
nswer me.” He’d spoken louder than he’d intended. “Please.”
“Just some kids.”
“Male or female? How old?”
“Both. A little older.”
“How did you meet them?” They hadn’t been in Houston long. He knew everywhere she went and what she did.
“Haven’t you heard of the Internet?”
Caleb seethed. Lauren was an innocent. There were too many people out there with sexual perversions, pedophiles, and others with weird proclivities surfing the web on the prowl for vulnerable girls exactly like her. He shuddered at the thought. Although he hadn’t had a drink in years, he felt like jumping in the car and driving to the closest liquor store. It was only a five-minute drive.
No. Maybe it’s time to tell her the truth. He couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not ever.
Caleb motioned to the chairs around the kitchen table. “Have a seat, please. We need to talk about some things.” He’d picked up a Christian self-help book that encouraged dads of teenage girls to nurture them like a delicate flower. To use gentle words instead of acting gruff and unyielding, to be kind instead of overbearing. Maybe it was a bunch of hooey, but he had nothing to lose. Following the advice was the hardest proposition, and their situation was anything but normal.
“Why? So you can make more rules?” Lauren didn’t budge but he could tell he’d gotten to her by the way her eyes widened. She appeared to be waging a mental debate. Finally, she lowered her hands to her sides and walked to the table. Pulling out the chair opposite him, she stared at him as she lowered into the seat. He did the same. He didn’t like the idea of a face-off, but she was here. They were talking. In its own way, this was good. This was progress.
“Lauren, you seem to be under the impression that I don’t want you to have friends or have fun. That’s not true. I want all those things for you.”
“Could have fooled me. I guess that’s why you have those gates that could impale me and the walls with those pitchfork things on top?”
Leaning both elbows on the table, Caleb raked both hands through his hair. “I love you, Lauren. If nothing else, I hope you remember that.”
“Then tell me the truth. Why do I feel like a prisoner?”
“You’re not a prisoner. You go out with Lettie.”
“Give me a break.” Lauren lifted her eyes to the ceiling and crossed her arms. “Lettie’s great, but she’s like…ancient. She rolls her hair every night in those pink and black rollers and puts greasy green cream on her face. It’s kinda scary.” Thank the Lord he’d had Lettie’s help with Lauren since Helena’s death. Hired to help Helena, she’d been with him since before his daughter’s birth. He didn’t know how he’d have survived without her. She’d been a strong lifeline to the outside world in the months following Helena’s death. His mother and Cordelia had been the other two women who’d helped to pull him through…and Lauren in her sweeter innocent years.
He’d been fiddling with his fingers, but at her words, Caleb nodded. Part of being a responsible parent was stepping back far enough to try and see this situation from Lauren’s perspective. For what it was worth, she was his daughter in terms of character. She could always change, but for now she was a straight shooter—honest and forthright. He appreciated those qualities since Helena had always been more high-strung and nervous in temperament. If Lauren were the same way, he wasn’t sure if he could handle her without resorting to some form of chemical dependency.
Get a grip. Tell her. She’s old enough to understand. He hoped he wasn’t making a huge mistake, but Caleb didn’t know what else to do. No one ever said being a single parent was easy. No kidding. Being a father was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Yet the sight of his daughter’s smile filled him with the more pride and made him happier than he’d ever been. If they could only get through this rough patch together, they might have a fighting chance.
Maybe it was time to loosen up on the reins a little and give more responsibility to others at Belac so he could concentrate on his relationship with Lauren.
“When I first held you in the hospital delivery room, I vowed to you then that I’d always protect you. As your father, that’s an awesome responsibility that God entrusted to me. I’ve always upheld that vow, and I take it more seriously than anything else in my life. Lauren, you’re more important to me than the business, this house, the Porsche. Anything.” He made sure she was listening and fixed her with his gaze. “You are the most important person in my life. Never forget that, sweetheart.”
“What about Mom? You couldn’t protect her from cancer.” His daughter’s words stemmed more from hurt than anger. He knew that, yet they still stung.
Caleb forced down the hard knot of bitterness lodged in his throat. “No, I couldn’t. When I married your mother, I swore before the minister, God, and witnesses that I’d protect her until death do us part. I kept that vow until the day she died.”
His eyes grew moist. Caleb swiped at them with the heels of his hands. “With everything in me, Lauren, I didn’t want to let her down, but all the best doctors in the country couldn’t stop the progression of her disease. That was beyond anyone’s control. Except God’s. He takes us in His time, and even though we weren’t ready, your mother was ready to let go. She didn’t want to live in pain anymore.”
Lauren lowered her gaze and stared at the table.
He was depleted, out of answers. Tell her.
Caleb sucked in a quick breath. “You asked, so I’m going to tell you what’s going on.”
That caught her attention. Lauren glanced at him, clearly wary of what he’d say.
“Okay.” Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears.
“I’ve received kidnapping threats. Six in the past couple of years to be specific.”
Her gasp made him reach for her, wanting that connection, craving it for his sanity. His heart. Wrapping his hands around hers, Caleb held on for all he was worth without hurting her.
“You mean to kidnap me?” Her face crumpled, making his heart hurt. “Dad, why would someone want to do that?”
He breathed a silent prayer of thanks that she’d called him Dad. “Hard to say, but money is usually involved. I’ve made quite a bit of money in my lifetime, and there are people out there willing to break laws in order to get their hands on some of it.”
“For what? To buy drugs?”
“I can’t answer that. Perhaps. Or maybe to try and buy a better life. A lot of people mistakenly believe that having money will make them feel better about themselves. Or that they’ll be happier. It doesn’t work that way in real life. In some cases, having money makes life more complicated.”
“Sometimes kids who are kidnapped aren’t found…alive.” Lauren’s voice quivered and her trembling lower lip pierced his conscience. Was he wrong in trusting his instincts and telling her? Maybe she wasn’t old enough to process the truth. In some ways, she was mature for her age, but in others, she was still a little girl. His little girl. That would never change. In spite of her big talk and behind the bad attitude, she was a twelve-year-old girl. She knew nothing of the evils of which men were capable.
What have I done? Guilt raced through Caleb, rendering him momentarily numb. Wouldn’t telling Lauren cause her to be more observant and diligent? That was his only justification.
“Sometimes they’re…murdered and bad people do horrible things…” Placing her hands over her eyes, Lauren burst into tears. Heart wrenching, hard cries that he hated more than anything he’d ever heard in his life.
“Baby, I never meant to make you cry.” Moving around the table, feeling like the worst father in the world, Caleb dropped into the chair next to her. He wrapped his daughter in his arms and leaned his head on hers. “I’m doing the best I can, and I’m sorry…” Not knowing what else he could say, he closed his eyes and hoped he could absorb the pain for her. If only he could.
Lauren leaned further into his chest, her shoulders shaking with hard sobs. He tightened his hold, never wanting t
o let her go. Never wanting her to know the harsh realities of life and how they could beat a person down, rob a person of joy and hope.
God can make everything right. He’d repeated that truth over and over in the past but come up empty-handed too often. Not that he’d expected an immediate answer, but he’d finally stopped asking God for help. Was God listening? He wanted to believe the Almighty heard his pleas.
God, if you’re listening now, I could use a little assistance here.
Sniffling, Lauren glanced up at him with eyes innocent and trusting, a reminder that little girl was still in there somewhere beneath the mask of indifference and hurt. “Did we leave Dallas because someone was trying to kidnap me?”
“Yes, but that was only part of it,” he whispered, smoothing one hand over her dark hair. “We both needed a fresh start, and Houston is ultimately a better location for the Belac headquarters.”
All true. Reminders of his late wife were everywhere in the Dallas mansion. A change of scenery could only be healthier for both of them. Born and raised in a Dallas suburb, he’d loved it there, but it no longer held the same appeal it once had. His mother and Helena’s mother had been upset about the move, but they both led busy lives and knew he’d make sure to keep the family connection in place. He had part ownership in a private jet. He could fly them to Houston for the weekend. When things settled down with Lauren, he could send her to Dallas for visits. He had to be optimistic and know that would eventually happen…a time when he wouldn’t need to constantly worry about her safety.
Change was a positive step for his soul but, more importantly, better for his daughter’s well-being. Especially since Helena’s death, Lauren had become his sole focus in life. His reason for continuing to build his corporation as a legacy for Lauren and her future family. As long as he kept his eyes on that prize, they’d both be okay.
“But those people could have followed us, right? We’re in the same state, not across the world. They could find us anywhere. Isn’t that how it works?”