No Escape (No Justice Book 2)

by Sean Platt

  How was he supposed to respond? Was he supposed to be nice? Intimidating? Jasper already hated Bobby’s cocky smile.

  This was Carissa’s territory, not his. She’d know how to handle this. He was in uncharted waters, trying not to be the overprotective father chasing away any boy who might come sniffing around his daughter.

  Jasper reached out, giving a good, firm handshake while resisting the urge to crush Bobby’s bones.

  He had a strong handshake and didn’t avoid eye contact like a creepy college dude looking to bang the high school girl.

  He still has a cocky smile.

  Jasper glanced at Jordyn, trying to gauge the situation. She smiled, clearly nervous that he might say something to embarrass her.

  “Bobby’s in my drama class. He’s helping me study for the role of Abigail in The Crucible.”

  I’ll bet he is. Is there a kissing scene?

  “Ah, that’s great.”

  “Can I help you put those away?” Bobby asked, glancing behind Jasper.

  Oh, now you’re just a kiss-ass.

  “Nah, I’ve got it,” Jasper said, stepping back into the kitchen.

  Bobby and Jordyn stood at the bar separating the kitchen from living room.

  “Nice Stingray,” Jasper said, filling the fridge with groceries. “Is it a seventy-six?”

  “Seventy-seven. It was my dad’s. He left it to me for when I turned sixteen.”

  “Left it to you?”

  “Yeah, he passed three years ago. Cancer.”

  Jasper caught a look in Jordyn’s eye and instantly saw how the loss of a parent had probably drawn them together.

  “Sorry to hear,” Jasper said, “I hope he didn’t suffer long.”

  “No, it was pretty quick,” Bobby said. “Where’s your bathroom?”

  “I’ll show you,” Jordyn said, leading him toward the downstairs guest bathroom.

  Jasper finished putting the perishables away, then started stowing boxes and cans in the pantry. Moments later, Jordyn came back to the kitchen and grabbed a can of Diet Coke from the fridge.

  She stood at the bar, staring out the sliding glass doors leading out to the pool and deck — avoiding eye contact.

  “So,” Jasper began, “Bobby?”

  She turned, face flush. “Please don’t embarrass me.”

  “Embarrass you how?” Jasper asked intentionally loud, smiling.

  Jordyn’s eyes widened, “Oh. My. God. Please stop!”

  “Stop what?” he teased. “Oh, I’ve got an idea. We should show Bobby some video from when you were little. Maybe some video of you at Seven Mile Beach? When you were afraid of the stingray?”

  “I knew I should’ve met him at the library.”

  Jasper smiled, then winked. “Don’t worry, honey, I won’t embarrass you in front of … Bobby.”

  She rolled her eyes and made a face just like her mother used to make when Jasper teased her or did something stupid.

  He heard Bobby step out of the bathroom, then shut off the light and exhaust fan before he returned to the kitchen.

  Jordyn asked, “Want a drink?”

  “No thanks. I told my mom I’d pick up Alfonso’s for dinner.”

  “Oh, they have the best pizza,” Jordyn said, more enthusiastically than Jasper had heard her say anything to anyone. Maybe ever.

  He had to throttle the smile as it tugged at his lips.

  Jordyn glanced over as if to scold him, as if she were reading his mind. Just like her mother. Then she returned her attention to Bobby. “Thanks for helping me.”

  “You’ve got this, Jordyn. Ms. Franks would be insane not to give you the role.”

  “Thanks,” she said, blushing, looking down at her feet and putting one purple Converse atop the other.

  “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Parish.”

  “You too, Bobby.”

  Jasper shook the kid’s hand again. Noticed that he maintained eye contact with a seemingly genuine smile. You could tell a lot about a kid by the way they greeted an adult. You could also tell about what kind of family they grew up in. And despite that cocky smile, Bobby seemed like a decent kid.

  Of course, Jasper would do some digging online, just to verify. In case things were going the way he thought they probably would be.

  Jordyn walked Bobby to the door, then follow him outside.

  Jasper resisted the urge to follow, or peek out the living room window. The curtains were open, and there was no way to stay invisible. No way that Jordyn wouldn’t be mortified when she returned.

  As much as he wasn’t ready for his daughter to start dating, it was nice to see Jordyn bring someone home. Nice to see her acting like a normal 17-year-old, rather than one ghost mourning another.

  Jasper grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and took a seat on the recliner, waiting for Jordyn’s return.

  He was almost done with the water by the time she was back inside.

  “So,” he said, “Bobby?”

  “Don’t even start,” she said, somewhere between laughing and frustration.

  She started past him toward the kitchen.

  “Hold up.”

  She stopped, then turned, “What? Are you mad that I had a boy over?”

  “Should I be?”

  “What are you asking?”

  “Well, you two weren’t doing anything, were you?”

  “Oh, God, really, Dad? I barely even know him! Give me some credit.”

  “It’s not you I’m worried about.”

  “He’s a good kid.”

  “Yeah? How old is he?”

  “Just turned eighteen.”

  “So, he’s a senior?”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “You’re a junior.”

  “So, what’s your point?”

  “Just making an observation.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t need you observing anything.”

  “It’s my job.”

  “Hmph,” she said, heading into the kitchen.

  “What does that mean?” he called out, getting out of the chair.

  “Nothing!” she snapped, opening the fridge fast enough to rattle the bottles living inside the door.

  She opened another Diet Coke and slammed the fridge.

  He was going to point out that she’d already opened one, which was right on the counter to her left, but then she turned and saw it. At least he thought she saw it. Hard to tell when she was already headed toward the stairs.

  “I’m going to study for my test on Monday.”

  “We’re not done.”

  She stopped at the foot of the stairs, frozen, waiting, but refusing to meet Jasper’s eyes. He would’ve wondered where all the hostility was coming from, but in recent months she’d been as unpredictably moody as, well, a temperamental teenage girl.

  “So, what’s the deal with Bobby?”

  “What do you mean, deal?” she asked, turning to him with a look of disgust.

  “Do you like him?”

  “Can we not talk about this now?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t know how I feel about him. He’s the first friend I made at school. He’s in drama, and he’s nice. He offered to help with my lines.”

  “Well, he’s smitten with you.”

  “Smitten?” Jordyn said, her eyebrows arched as if he’d just said the dumbest thing a dad had ever said. “Who even says smitten anymore?”

  “Lots of people.”

  “Name one.”

  “Me.”

  “Name another.”

  “I don’t know. People.”

  Jordyn’s anger finally cracked into a laugh. “You are ridiculous. You know that, right?”

  “So I’ve been told. By your mother. On a number of occasions.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Hey, I’m just looking out for my baby girl.”

  “Are you saying I’m not allowed to see him?”

  “Are you saying you want to?”

  “No
. I’m just trying to figure out how crazy you’re going to be about this.”

  “Who said I’m going to be crazy?”

  “Um, Chris Encarcio.”

  “Who?”

  “The boy I liked in third grade. The boy who kissed me on the playground and you went and made a big scene with his parents.”

  “I did not make a scene.”

  “Oh, yes you did!”

  “First of all, it was more than a kiss. He shoved you off a swing, too. That was why I went to talk to his dad. Not the kiss.”

  “Mm, hmm,” she said, crossing her arms while waiting at the bottom of the stairs for Jasper to finish grilling her.

  “So, do you like Bobby? He didn’t push you off a swing, did he?”

  She laughed again. “You’re such an idiot.”

  “Again, tell me something I haven’t heard.”

  “I don’t even know if he thinks anything about me. He’s like super popular, and I’m, well, dorky old me.”

  “You’re a smart, funny, beautiful young woman. And he’s smitten.”

  Jordyn laughed again. “Shut up.”

  “He is.”

  “Boys and girls can be just friends, you know?”

  “Yeah, but boys his age only have one thing on their mind.”

  “Yeah?” she asked with a smirk, now trying to make him uncomfortable. “What’s that?”

  “You know.”

  “Video games?” She teased. “Sports?”

  “No, women.”

  “Ah, of course. Things aren’t like they were back in the olden days when you were a kid. These days lots of boys and girls are just friends.”

  “So, you’re telling me that in the eighteen or so years since I was a teenager, that thousands of years of biology have gone out the window and boys are no longer horn dogs?”

  “Horn dogs? Where do you even get these terms?”

  “That’s not what they say?”

  “No.”

  “What do they say?”

  “I dunno. Can I go study now?”

  “Yeah, go study,” he said, waving a hand at her.

  She ran up the stairs, two at a time. He wasn’t sure if she was giddy or craving escape.

  He took another drink of water.

  And then he heard his wife’s voice. “You’ve got to let her grow up.”

  Carissa sat on the couch, looking at him. She was wearing her favorite blue dress with white flowers — the one he buried her in.

  “Easy for you to say. You don’t have to deal with the mood swings.”

  “She’s better now, isn’t she? Since you moved up here?”

  “I guess,” he sighed, staring at Carissa. He missed her so much. He wanted to sit beside her — hold her, hug her, kiss her. But attempting touch only made her vanish.

  The doctors said she wasn’t real. That it was likely a result of some post-traumatic stress or something. They gave Jasper pills that he hated to take. They made him feel fuzzy during the best times and murderous during the worst. Too often, they chased his true love away.

  He’d rather be a little crazy and see her, even if she might not really be there, than be sane and alone.

  Jasper wasn’t convinced that some part of her wasn’t there with him. Maybe he was seeing some part of her spirit left behind. He didn’t trust the doctors. They doubted psychic phenomena, but Jasper had seen enough visions come true to know better.

  “What’s wrong?” Carissa pressed.

  “I don’t know. But the moment she walked Bobby out to his car, I got a bad feeling.”

  “A vision?”

  “No. Just a bad feeling. I don’t know. I feel like so much has changed, too quickly. And I’m afraid that it’s all going to fall apart, again.”

  “It doesn’t have to fall apart. You can be happy. But you need to make an effort. You need to believe. Jordyn is looking for you to guide her. And you can’t let her see your fear. You can’t let your fear stop our daughter from living.”

  “You’re right,” he said.

  Suddenly, Jasper realized he wasn’t alone.

  Jordyn was in the kitchen behind him, getting a banana from the counter.

  Jasper said nothing as she got it, then walked back upstairs.

  Carissa looked at him. “I think she heard you.”

  Jasper sighed. “How the hell am I supposed to guide her when I can’t even get my head straight?”

  “You’ll find a way.”

  Jasper squeezed his eyes shut, leaned back in the chair and let out a deep sigh. “I’m glad one of us is confident.”

  No response from Carissa.

  He opened his eyes.

  She was gone.

  * * * *

  CHAPTER 8 - MALLORY BLACK

  Mal arrived at the park to find Katie doing lazy half-circles on a swing, making patterns by dragging her shoes in the dirt. She was in yesterday’s dress, but now her long blonde hair was no longer in a ponytail.

  Mal came alone, as requested, and took a seat on the swing beside her.

  “How are you doing?” Mal asked in her most gentle voice.

  “I couldn’t sleep last night,” Katie said, staring at the circles in the sand.

  “Why not?”

  “I kept wondering if I should cancel.”

  “You’re doing the right thing,” Mal said, feeling uncomfortable coaxing information from a kid, especially when her father wasn’t around.

  Katie finally looked up at her, dark circles ringing her eyes. “Coach didn’t kill those people in the park. And he didn’t kill himself.”

  “How do you know?”

  Katie swallowed. “If I talk, can you promise that my father won’t find out?”

  “I’ll do my very best.”

  “But you can’t promise?”

  “I don’t want to make any promises that I can’t keep. But I will do absolutely everything in my power to keep this between you and me.”

  “Not good enough,” Katie said, getting up and starting to walk away.

  “Wait.”

  Katie turned around.

  “Why don’t you want your father to know?”

  “He will kill me.”

  Lots of kids say their parents will kill them, but few said it with the gravity in Katie’s eyes.

  Mal got off the swing and went over to Katie. “Does he hit you?”

  “I don’t want to get him in trouble.”

  “We can help you.”

  Katie shook her head, biting her lip. “No. Nobody can help us. My mom called the police before. But she wouldn’t file charges. She couldn’t. So he got out of jail and was back in no time. He said if she did again, he’d kill us both.”

  Mal sighed. “I can help if you let me. I can talk to your mother. And if she won’t help, at least maybe I can get you out of there.”

  “No, I can’t leave there with him. He’ll take it all out on her.”

  “Do you want this to stop?”

  Katie nodded.

  “Then let me help you.”

  “What would you do?”

  “We can get a protective order to keep him away from you and your mother. We can lock him up for what he’s done. There’s place you can go for help, too. None of it is an easy road, but it’s a hell of a lot easier than doing nothing. This won’t end well if you just let things go. It never does.

  Katie said nothing.

  “You know that what he’s doing is wrong, don’t you?” Mal pressed.

  Finally, Katie nodded.

  “Then let me help you.”

  “I dunno.”

  Mal could feel the girl slipping away, and taking her secrets with her. She didn’t want to force Katie to talk, but she was starting to think she might have to.

  Katie returned to the swing and sat, returning her gaze to the ground.

  Mal took the swing beside her.

  “Coach Kincaid didn’t kill them because I was with him yesterday morning.”

  “Practicing soccer?”
Mal asked, even though she suspected the answer.

  “No,” she said, long hair covering her face. “We were together.”

  “Oh,” Mal said. “And your parents don’t know?”

  “Like I said, my father would kill me.”

  “Where were your parents?”

  “Working. My dad works for Sal’s Towing. My mother works at Walmart. They don’t know anything.”

  “So, you two were … what? Dating?”

  “He loved me,” Katie said defensively.

  Mal swallowed the sickening feeling in her throat. She wanted to explain that No, he didn’t love her. Peter Kincaid was abusing her. She was still a child, and he was a grown man.

  But Katie surely faced a steady stream of criticism from her father. And maybe her mother. She wore insecurity in her posture, in her penchant for keeping her eyes on the ground. A good kid with a shitty life, the perfect victim for Coach to exploit.

  But if Mal tried to explain any of that to her now, Katie would close up. It was best to keep their rapport open. A counselor could help Katie get through this all at a later date. Right now, it was about learning what she knew.

  Mal took out her notebook. “So, when were you with him?”

  “My dad leaves the house at five on Saturday. My mom left at six. I waited a bit, then went over at seven.”

  “And what happened next? How long were you there?”

  “Well, at first, I was helping him look for his phone. He couldn’t find it anywhere. After a while, he gave up, figuring he probably left it at work. We watched some TV. Then we started kissing, and stuff.”

  Mal’s stomach churned, thinking of this man exploiting this naive child’s need for love. Her reverential tone was no different from any little girl speaking of her crush.

  “And how long were you with him?”

  “Until after noon.”

  “You were with him the entire time? And he never left or went to the baseball fields?”

  “No. Saturdays were our day, the only time when we had so many hours together, alone.”

  Katie sobbed.

  Mal reached over and put a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

  She flinched, but then let Mal pat her back.

  Mal wondered if she was spinning this tale to protect the coach with an alibi. She didn’t think that Katie was lying, but she’d seen the girlfriends and wives of murders interfere with investigations. Usually, they were trying to keep their lover out of prison.