by Ciara Shayee
It was impossible to miss the intrigue in Riley’s eyes as he leaned forward in his chair, pen poised over the pad in his lap. “What sort of things would he talk about? As much detail as possible, please.”
“Umm, mostly about transport? It always sounded weird to me, because he was so secretive about it. At first I thought he meant moving guys around to work in different places, but the guys on the ranch where we were just drove in trucks. The people he was talking about, he said they had to stay invisible. One time, I heard him tell somebody that he needed to get a bunch of new papers made quickly. Oh! And he used to get really miserable and extra angry, and when he did he always used to mumble things about deliveries that had gone wrong, people that had messed up and gotten pinched, that sort of thing. I have no idea what any of it means, so I don’t know if that helps?”
Of course, having had TV and fictional books removed from her life at such a young age, she hadn’t had the chance to learn these terms as other children and teenagers would from crime-based TV shows. A term like ‘pinched’ would mean little to somebody who’d never heard it used in reference to an arrest.
“That’s perfect. Well done, Indie. You’re doing great. Now, can you remember anything else that he said? Anything at all?”
“I can’t really remember much from then, sorry. The guys might have heard more, though. I mean, we used to spend as much time as possible up in our room, so…yeah. You might have better luck with the others.”
“Okay. You’ve done amazingly well, so thank you.” Riley consulted the list on his notepad, then asked, “What about Garrett Smith’s relationships? Did he have a girlfriend or a wife, anyone like that?”
“No, not at all. Or, not that he ever mentioned or brought to the ranch.”
“All right. Do you know if he had another home somewhere?”
“No, sorry.” Indie grimaced.
“Okay, that’s fine.”
On and on it went. Question after question, dredging up horrid memory after horrid memory.
The day passed slowly, with Indie wanting to get as far as possible in her recount before going home. If she and Grace continued as they were, they would only be needed for one more day before they reached the end of their captivity, catching up to their rescue.
They spent the rest of their day at Reagan’s, sitting in the garden to soak up some much-needed vitamin D, the sun making a welcome appearance. Marley very much enjoyed her time playing on Carl-Roman’s slide, once Laker and Reagan showed her what she needed to do. She’d delighted her mother by repeatedly calling ‘Mommy’ as she showed off her new skill, and had even braved her Pawpaw’s lap for the first time. He’d worked hard on being friendly and approachable since frightening her by fainting back at the medical centre in Montana, and it had finally paid off.
Laker made sure to snap plenty of photos of the grandfather and his only granddaughter smiling at each other, Marley content on his knee as he showed her videos of dogs on his phone. She’d become a little obsessed with any kind of dog video, so he was only too happy to indulge her.
Dinner was a quiet affair, but everyone was pleased to see Indie and Grace eating the macaroni and cheese with home-baked bread they had prepared.
By the time they fell into bed, they were all exhausted, but they woke early once more for their third, and hopefully final, day of statements.
~ oOo ~
As he brushed Marley’s hair and promised to take her to the park one day, Laker forced himself to sound cheerful despite the memory of Indie’s last statement. She’d managed to finish her recount of the final few years on the ranch in one, two-and-a-half-hour session that morning, collapsing into Laker’s arms as she stumbled from the interview room.
“Indie, I know we’ve discussed your pregnancy with Marley, but is it okay if we discuss this pregnancy, now?” Riley asked, looking every bit like a man being led to slaughter. He no more wanted to discuss it than Reagan and Laker wanted to hear about it.
Indie visibly gulped. “S-sure.”
“All right, we’ll take it slowly. Do you know the man involved? His name, or where he came from?”
“Simon. His name is Simon.”
“All right. Do you happen to know a surname? Don’t worry if not, Indie, it’d just be easier if—”
“Caine. His name is Simon Caine.” As Riley and Kendra noted down the name, Reagan and Laker froze on the other side of the glass.
Simon Caine. The asshole they both hated even though they’d never set eyes on him finally had a name.
Indie covered her face with her hands and sighed hard. “He was just some guy the other guys picked up in Billings. They went out on a supply run and came back with him.”
“Right. He left, you said?”
“Yes. He was only on the ranch for a few weeks.” She huffed, uncovering her face to peer at Riley with what looked like apology blanketing her features. “It was the most stupid thing I’ve ever done. I don’t even know why I did it, to be honest. Grace and Marley were asleep, and I was just so down, you know? I’d been really struggling. Marley had just had the flu, so I was tired and stressed…I found a bottle of whisky or something in the barn. I don’t know what made me drink it because I knew it was nasty and would make me feel worse, but I guess I just wanted to feel something. It doesn’t even make sense to me, but I wanted to not feel so numb, you know? I was stupid. I thought it would help. So I was drinking it for a while in the barn, just watching the horses in their stalls, when he came in.”
“By ‘he,’ you mean…?”
Indie whispered Simon’s name, swallowing before continuing. “He’d always been a bit…aloof, I guess? I think that’s the right word. He was nice enough, polite at meal times and pretty quiet. He kept to himself, except for when he would ask these questions.”
“What sort of questions?”
“Who worked there, when, why, that sort of thing. He asked if many people came and then left.”
“And obviously he didn’t know you were pregnant when he left?”
“God, no. I didn’t even know. Umm, a few days after we…after we had sex, he left and didn’t come back.”
Laker was pulled from his memories by Marley tugging his t-shirt. He gazed down at her, smiling at the way her eyes were sliding shut, and at the yawn that stretched her mouth wide open.
“Bedtime for you, Little Sweet,” he cooed, brushing a single, loose strand of hair away from her eyes.
She nodded, winding her arms around his neck as he stood and carried her through to the kitchen. Reagan, Peter, and Archie were still up, the latter having put his boys to bed in their room upstairs some time ago. Marley had forced herself to remain awake to be able to snuggle on Laker’s lap, but at almost ten p.m., she couldn’t put it off any longer and had begun to doze on his knee.
“Bedtime?” Reagan asked, hesitating for a moment before extending his arms to Marley. To his surprise and delight, she went to him willingly, cuddling into his chest before placing a quick kiss on his cheek and scrambling down to give Peter and Archie the same treatment. She’d warmed up to them all, but Laker was still her favourite man by far. It was him she returned to; all but climbing his legs until he took pity and scooped her up, baby-style. She didn’t seem to care and huddled as close as she could get, Mr. Bunny clutched tight to her chest.
“’Night, Marley,” the men murmured, tired smiles all round as they watched Laker leave the room with her, carefully trudging up the stairs to avoid waking anyone. Indie and Grace had given him permission to creep in with Marley when she finally passed out, so even though he felt uncomfortable invading their privacy, Laker toed open the door and crept inside. At first glance, they appeared to both be fast asleep. Only when Laker rounded the bed to Indie’s side, where a Marley-sized gap waited to be filled, did he realise he was wrong.
“Hey,” Indie whispered, a smile on her lips as she took in the sight of Laker, such a large, muscular man, cradling her tiny baby girl.
“Sorry, I d
idn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered, kneeling to tuck Marley in as Indie lifted the duvet. “She’s sparko, so she should sleep right through for you. She was out like a light once she finally gave in.”
Indie was thankful for the darkness as it meant Laker wouldn’t see the flush rising in her cheeks as a result of his cheeky wink. “Thank you. I really do appreciate you helping with her.”
“Ah, she’s no trouble. I love the little sweetheart already.”
Indie’s stomach did a little flip as she admitted, “She loves you, too. She’s so comfortable with you. She’s not like that with anybody except me and Grace.”
Laker felt the flush of warmth turning the tips of his ears pink. “She’s a sweet kid; she must just have good taste.”
“The best.”
The pair stared at one another for a minute, until Marley shifted between them, making a soft purring sound as she twisted towards her mother, mumbling ‘Mommy’ in her sleep.
Indie’s face lit up with the force of her smile. Laker couldn’t help but mirror it.
“All right, I’ll leave you to sleep.” He couldn’t resist reaching out to gently tap Marley’s chin one last time for the day, murmuring ‘goodnight’ as he turned to leave.
Both of their smiles turned into ear-to-ear grins when, quietly but still loud enough for them to hear her, Marley mumbled ‘Laker’ before making like the bunny in her arms and burrowing down into the covers.
~ oOo ~
Beams of sunlight peeking through the blinds pulled Archie from unconsciousness. His eyes squeezed shut against the bright light as he reached up to rub the sleep away. He blinked blearily a few times, finally focusing on the shape of his six-year-old curled up in the space beside him where Kristen should have been.
Carl-Roman’s spaceman pyjama-clad butt was sticking up in the air, one side of his face smashed into the pillow while he somehow managed to keep his thumb in his mouth without choking himself. Chuckling sleepily, Archie reached out to tug his sleeping little boy against his chest. Carl-Roman mumbled something about ‘choc’late hoops’ and ‘Auntie Gracie,’ snuggling into his dad without waking. Archie took the next few minutes to sort out his still-half-asleep mind.
Oh. It’s my birthday, he realised with a sudden bolt of clarity. His lips curled up into a slight smile, his chest lighter than it had been for days, though his good mood took a small dip when he remembered the pain his family had endured over the past week.
As predicted, the girls’ statements had only taken three days, their determination to get it done as soon as possible aiding the gruesome task.
Yesterday—Saturday—the entire Ashby-Davies clan, with the addition of Laker, had spent the day doing their best to unwind. Archie introduced Kristen to his sisters for the first time, with the help of his sons who were overjoyed to have their mum back after an extended work trip. By the time Archie, Kristen, Carl-Roman, and Chase left Reagan’s house it was dark outside, so Indie, Grace, and Marley had gone to bed shortly afterwards; exhausted by their efforts and the intensity of the past three days, it hadn’t taken long to get to sleep.
Waking up now, at what was obviously still a fairly early hour on his birthday, Archie decided there was nothing he wanted to do more than spend the day with his family around him. His whole family, for the first time in over a decade.
Rising carefully to avoid waking Carl-Roman, Archie stretched out and glanced at the clock on the dresser. 7:48a.m. Remembering Kristen’s promise of breakfast in bed, he quickly made his way to the bathroom before heading downstairs to halt her. He’d rather wait and eat at his dad’s if she hadn’t already started.
Instead of the smell of cooking food he expected, all Archie could detect when he got to the bottom of the stairs was the faint remnants of her perfume lingering in the hallway. His eyes jumped to the rack by the door, instinctively looking for her coat—it was missing. A quick glance at the table nearby revealed the lack of her work bag, too, and Archie’s stomach fell to his feet as they carried him with far less enthusiasm than before to the kitchen. He immediately spotted a note stuck to the bag of bread on the counter. His mood plummeted when he read the simple, seven-word note she’d left.
Called into work early. See you later. K x
“That’s it?” Archie growled, anger taking the place of his confusion. “That’s fucking it?”
“What’s it, Daddy?” Carl-Roman’s innocent, sleepy voice stopped Archie’s rage in its tracks, his half-smile tugging at his dad’s heartstrings when he twisted to see him in the doorway.
“Nothin’, Champ. C’mere.”
Grinning widely, Carl-Roman flew into Archie’s open arms, planting a loud, sloppy kiss on his cheek before pulling back to smile even wider. “It’s your birthday, Daddy! I got you a present, but Pawpaw’s looking after it for me ‘til we go there. Daddy, can we go Pawpaw’s house now? Before breakfast?”
Eyeing the note stuck to the bread, then his excited and adorable son, Archie decided he wasn’t going to let anything ruin this day. He grinned and leaned forward to Eskimo kiss his son. “Of course, Champ. You go get dressed, I’ll get Chase, then we’ll go.”
Still feeling a sting of hurt that Kristen hadn’t even wished him a ‘happy birthday,’ Archie leaned in to whisper, “You can even have extra chocolate hoops as it’s my birthday. Don’t tell Mummy.”
The little boy’s answering cheer was more than enough to straighten out his dad’s dark mood.
When Archie, Carl-Roman, and Chase arrived at Reagan’s a half-hour later, the birthday boy scowled at the journalists still camping outside his dad’s house. But they were, for the most part, respectful, so he ignored them and found himself astonished when he spotted the ‘Birthday Boy’ banners in the bay window. Carl-Roman pointed out the ‘Happy Birthday!’ sign over the front door as he tugged Archie up the path by the hand not carrying Chase in his car seat. His young son was elated, bouncing up and down in his light-up trainers.
Archie grinned as soon as they stepped through the door because he recognised the song playing, and if his dad were any sort of reliable man, it would be the exact same CD he’d put together as a teenager and played religiously throughout his entire fourteenth birthday. It had become a bit of a joke since then, and Reagan played it throughout his fifteenth and sixteenth birthday as a throwback. Songs that had been popular back then weren’t so much now, so as he paused to listen to the music, it was an odd contrast to the songs they’d listened to in the car on the way across Eastbourne.
Carl-Roman blew Archie’s cover. He was far too excited about what he saw as his dad’s first birthday party to stand in the hall and wait. He darted off into the kitchen, attaching himself like a limpet to Indie’s legs. Blue-green eyes met mini versions of themselves as she looked down at her nephew in bewilderment.
“I didn’t hear you come in, little man.”
He laughed, tugging at her t-shirt until she bent to perch him on her hip, ignoring the looks of gentle reproach for doing so. She’d heard the ‘you shouldn’t be lifting’ lecture a few times and would ignore it on every occasion. There wasn’t a thing in the world that would stop her giving her nephew, or Marley, cuddles.
“That’s ‘cause I was quiet, Auntie Indie.”
“Where’s your dad and Chase, then? Did you forget to bring them?”
“No, silly! He’s out there!” Pointing a little hand towards the hallway, Carl-Roman suddenly began giggling like crazy, Grace’s fingers playfully digging into his sides. “Hey! Stop, stop! That tickles, Auntie Gracie!”
Indie smiled as her eyes met Grace’s over the little boy’s head. The past few days had been horrendous and heartbreaking; some of the most painful days of her life. And yet Indie had never felt so purged. She’d never felt lighter than she did at that moment, gazing at her gorgeous little nephew and her ever-supportive best friend. She had a long way to go, of course. She and Grace wouldn’t be magically healed, but they’d taken a tentative step towards their happily ever after.<
br />
Archie appeared in the doorway in time to see his sisters cooing over his eldest, now calm but grinning widely at his aunties. Reagan, Peter, Laker, and Marley were sitting at the table, watching the trio with smiles on their faces, but Archie bypassed them. The men found themselves battling back tears as they watched Archie set down Chase’s seat to engulf the girls, and his boy, in a bear hug. Their sniffled, synchronised ‘Happy birthday, Arch’ didn’t stand a chance of reaching them over the sound of Carl-Roman’s happy squeals.
“Christ, it’s so good to see you,” Archie murmured into Grace’s hair, pressing a kiss to her head before giving Indie the same treatment and pulling back enough to see their faces. Understanding, sadness, and happiness were the three most predominant emotions, their joy bright in their eyes as they peered up at their brother.
“You just saw them yesterday, Daddy!” Carl-Roman frowned.
Archie, Indie, and Grace snickered. “I know, but this is the first birthday in ages that Daddy gets to see all his sisters.”
The little boy accepted his dad’s explanation, shuffling down to his feet so he could dive across the room into his Pawpaw’s lap, where he insisted he and Marley be allowed to ‘guard’ the large chocolate cake in the centre of the table. Archie watched the proceedings with one arm around each of the girls. His dad tickled Carl-Roman until he pleaded for mercy and scrambled under the table, before climbing into Laker’s lap where he and Marley happily grinned at one another. The children had accidentally been dressed in almost identical outfits—both sporting shorts and denim jackets with blue t-shirts underneath. The similar clothes displayed how similar in appearance they looked. The huff-scowl combo Carl-Roman shot his Pawpaw across the table was both petulant and playful.
“All right, Champ, how about you run next door and get Auntie Pip and Heidi for me? Think you can manage that?”