by L. Wilder
“She was.” He swallowed hard, then continued, “She was the librarian in town. I worked across the street at a small printing shop, and I’d watch her go in every morning and come out every afternoon. I never dreamed she’d even talk to me. I was twenty-four years old, and I’d just come home from Vietnam. I was poor and didn’t have much, but one day I got the courage to go in and check out a book. We started talking, and well … we got married. We were married for forty-seven years.”
I could see the love in his eyes when he spoke about his wife, and I knew exactly how he felt. I’d loved Max since I was just a young girl, and while I’d never considered the thought of us being soulmates, hearing Oliver talk about his wife made me consider the possibility. I loved Max with all my heart, and I had no doubt I could never love another the way I loved him. “That’s an amazing story, Oliver.”
“She was my whole world, Harper.”
“Did you have any children?”
“Oh, my wife wanted a house full of children, but we were only able to have one child. There were some complications during Sabrina’s birth, and we just couldn’t risk having another.”
Our conversation baffled me. While Oliver seemed coherent and almost normal, he was obviously mentally ill, otherwise he wouldn’t have kidnapped me at gun point and told me I couldn’t write the end of my book. Somewhere along the way, something had hurt him and he’d lost his way. I just had to be patient and see if he would reveal what had happened to him. Maybe then, I could find a way get him the help that he desperately needed. Somehow, I doubted it had anything to do with the fact that they couldn’t have any more children. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shook his head. “I liked it being just the three of us. We didn’t have much money, but we made do. We were happy. Really happy. Sabrina brought us joy that you couldn’t begin to imagine.” His voice grew soft, and then he said, “But then she grew up. She made a life for herself, had children, and didn’t have time for us anymore. So our lives went back to the way it was before.”
A smile crossed his face as he said, “Just like when we were younger, my wife would bring books home from the library, and we’d read them together. It was a chance for us to visit other places … to have an adventure. It was something we truly enjoyed doing together. And then one day … she brought one of your books home.”
I suddenly wanted to hit the fast forward button so I could finally know why he’d kidnapped me, but it wasn’t that easy. He had a story to tell, and if I wanted to get out of this thing alive, I had to sit there and listen. But I was curious by nature, and I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Well … what did you think of it?”
“I thought it was a bit pretentious, but my wife saw great potential in your work. As soon as we finished the first book, she brought the second one home. She couldn’t stop talking about it.” It took me a second to get over his pretentious comment, but as he continued talking, I was eventually able to let it go, especially since his wife so was fond of the books. “That’s when she contacted you on her computer.”
“She did?”
“She was so nervous about writing you. I bet she wrote that message fifteen times before she finally sent it. And when you wrote her back, I don’t think I’d ever seen her so happy.”
I thought back to all the messages I’d received over the past couple of years, and there were just too many to know who he was talking about. I just hoped that he’d keep talking long enough for me to figure it out. “It was sweet of her to write to me.”
He gave me a lopsided grin as he said, “After reading her letter, I was surprised you ever wrote her back.”
“What do you mean?”
“I tried to talk her out of it. I told her that it wasn’t something you’d want to hear from a complete stranger. I told her you’d think she was just putting your book down, but she had all these suggestions and ideas that she wanted to share with you. And then you surprised us both when you turned around and wrote her back thanking her.”
And then it hit me. How could I have been so stupid? All the clues were right there for me to see, but I just hadn’t put them together. The changes in her messages. The flowers. The packages. I smiled as I told him, “I’ve always appreciated Claudia’s advice. She’s a very special lady.”
“Yes, she was …” his voice trailed off as his eyes dropped to his hands.
The pieces were finally starting to come together. It was then that I wondered if he’d even thought about how he wanted this whole thing to play out. I knew I was encroaching on shaky ground, but I couldn’t let the conversation end there. “Can you tell me what happened to her?”
He dropped his head into his chest and his body started to tremble as he sobbed silently. After several minutes, he finally managed to mutter, “The doctors were concerned about her heart, but they seemed hopeful. Claudia wasn’t. She tried to tell me that it was coming … but I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to believe that she’d go before me.”
“No one wants to think that someone they love will die first.”
“Her heart stopped while she was sleeping. She died, and I couldn’t do anything to help her … I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
“I’m so sorry, Oliver.”
It was clear that he was devastated, but I still had no idea what any of this had to do with me. But then, his knees started to bounce and the gun wobbled in his hand as he said, “Now, you see why you can’t finish the book.”
Hoping he might explain it all to me, I asked, “No, Oliver. I honestly don’t.”
“Don’t you see? Once you write the ending, it will all be over. Those books meant everything to her. Once she started working with you, they were all she could talk about. We spent hours and hours going over every chapter, trying to predict your next move. We did that together. Your characters became our family . Their problems became our problems . Their joy became our joy . Now that Claudia is gone, those books … those characters are all I’ve got left. If you end the book, I’ll have nothing left … I can’t let you do that.”
Bless his heart. I’d known people who’d gotten caught up in a story, but he’d given it a whole new meaning. I could feel the tension radiating off of him as he spoke, and I worried that he might do something drastic. There was no doubt in my mind that he was completely delusional, but I hoped that if I talked calmly and rationally, I might be able to make him see things differently. “But Oliver … it’s just a story. These characters live in a world inside my head, and their story is already finished. It’s just a matter of putting it down on paper … But it’s just an ending, Oliver. It’s not the end ,” I explained.
He sniffled, then sounded hopeful. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“There will be more books, more stories to tell with characters that I haven’t even created yet, and I want to share them with you … all of them.”
“You do?” he asked with surprise.
“Of course, I do,” I told him sincerely. I had every intention of sharing my stories with him, but I would have to get him the help he needed first. I stood up and walked over to him, placing my hand on his knee as I knelt down in front of him. “I know it was hard for you to lose Claudia. I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you, but she wouldn’t want you to do this. She wouldn’t want you to come here and force me to stop writing the book that she loved. You know that. She would want the book to have its ending, don’t ya think?”
“I do,” he cried.
When he started to sob, I gave his knee a light squeeze, and whispered, “Then, let me finish the book, Oliver. Let me give Claudia the ending she deserves. And let me give you the ending, so you can finally turn the page and start a new chapter on a new book with new characters and a new adventure .”
“It won’t be the same.”
“No, it won’t.” I shrugged. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be good … and it certainly doesn’t mean you can’t find joy in reading again. You just have to be bra
ve enough to take a chance. Are you willing to do that?”
His eyes were red and swollen from crying, and he was barely able to keep them open as he said, “I don’t know.”
“I believe you’re braver than you think.” I gave him a stern look and said, “Oliver, why don’t you give me the gun?”
He looked down at his lap and a surprised look crossed his face, like he’d almost forgotten it was there. Without resisting me, he lifted it up and placed it in the palm of my hand. “I’m sorry, Harper. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I know you didn’t.” I patted him on the knee as I stood up and reached for one of the Afghans. As I placed it over his leg, I said, “I’m going to make you a cup of hot tea. I think it might help settle your nerves.”
He nodded, and as I walked into the kitchen, I spotted my little red journal and flash drive sitting on the counter. I thought about asking him about them, but considering everything that had happened, I decided it was best to just leave it.
As I put on a pot of water to boil, he asked “Did you like the postcards and bookmarks I sent?” I was surprised by his question. I’d always thought Claudia was the one making them, but then I remembered him saying that he worked at a small printing company. “I used a matte print on the cover this time.”
“I loved them. I thought they were perfect.”
“Good. I’ll make you up an order when I get back home.” He smiled as he said, “But this time I’ll send them to your office.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
“And the presents … those were from Claudia. She’d bought them before she passed but never had a chance to send them.”
“Oh, that was so sweet of her. Thank you for sending them.”
“I did it for her. She would want you to have them.”
“Well, I’m glad you did.”
I looked in his cabinets and they were fairly empty except for a couple of cans of soup and some crackers. Thinking he might be hungry, I decided to warm him up a bowl for dinner, hoping to buy some time until I could figure out what I was going to do with him. I glanced over my shoulder and looked at him, thinking how desperate he must’ve felt to come all the way to Whiskey Creek to find me. I remembered how hurt and lost I felt when Max left, but I held on to that glimmer of hope that he would come back to me. Oliver didn’t have that kind of hope. Losing Claudia must have broken his heart and made him crazy with grief. He needed help, the kind of help I couldn’t give him, and I wasn’t sure who could. With a heavy heart, I turned back to look out the window, I noticed that everything was covered with a blanket of snow. It was dark out, but I could still see the little white flakes drifting aimlessly down from the heavens. It was a beautiful sight, and for the first time since I’d been taken, I realized I hadn’t spoken to Max in hours. I could only hope that he was still busy at work and hadn’t noticed that I wasn’t at the cabin. I would try my best to feed Oliver, get him settled, and let him know that I needed to get back home. Hopefully by then, he’d have the peace of mind to let me go.
CHAPTER 21
Max
“W hat are you doing?” Nitro asked as he watched me walk over to his desk and turn on his computer.
“Going to check the other security cameras. I put up several. Maybe I’ll be able to see something from one of them.”
With Ryder and Nitro peering over my shoulder, I logged into the security program I’d installed at Whiskey Creek. The first camera I tried was like Harper’s, full of static and completely useless, but the one I attached at the top of the light pole was still working perfectly. I began looking through the footage starting early that morning, when Harper left to take a walk down on the beach. While she was gone, there was very little to see, a few birds here and there and a couple of fallen limbs.
Then, I saw a figure moving ever so slowly towards Harper’s cabin. I tried to zoom in, hoping to see if I could identify them, but the person was wearing an oversized parka with a fur hood that covered their face. They continued towards the back side of the cabin, ripping the security camera wires free from the house as they walked, and then meandered to the front porch, taking a large stick with them. They lifted the stick above their head and hit the camera several times, smashing it all to hell.
Nitro leaned towards me and said, “Well, that explains all the static. Between him beating the shit out of it and pulling out all the wires, there’s no wonder why the damn thing’s all fucked up.”
I watched as the stranger made his way to the cabin directly across from Harper’s. After they destroyed the cameras there, they opened the door and stepped inside. As Ryder stared at the screen, he growled, “Fuck. They’re staying next door to her.”
“Damn. That’s the way it looks.”
We kept watching and saw Harper return, only to see her walk to her car an hour or so later. She’d only been gone a few minutes, when the neighbor came back out. I watched with horror as they walked over to her cabin, and after toying with the lock for several minutes, they broke in. About an hour later, Harper returned, and with her hands filled with groceries, she started towards the cabin. Unable to control his shock, Ryder roared, “Fuck, man. That motherfucker’s still in there.”
“I know, Ryder. I know.”
I felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest as I sat there staring at that fucking screen. When I couldn’t stand it a moment longer, I skimmed ahead, searching through the feed until I saw Harper come out of the cabin. The stranger followed right behind her with a gun pointed at her back, motioning her forward towards the other cabin. As soon as I saw the door close behind them, I stood up and started to leave. Nitro called out to me, “Max! Hold up!”
“I’ve got to get over there.”
“You can’t go over there half-cocked, brother. You’ll get both of you killed.” He stepped towards me as he tossed me a set of keys. “The weather’s bad out there. Take my SUV.”
Ryder started walking toward me as he said, “I’m going with you.”
“What about Derrick?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of Derrick,” Nitro assured me as he patted him on the shoulder.
When I looked over to Derrick, he said, “I’m sorry about your girl, Max. I hope she’s okay.”
Derrick was a good guy who was just trying to help his son. He didn’t know that he was going against us, but unfortunately, that didn’t change anything. I knew it was the last time I would see him alive. “Thanks, Derrick. And … I get that you were in a bind, but you should’ve come to us. Maybe, then things would’ve turned out different.”
With that, I turned and walked out the door with Ryder following close behind. When we got outside, the snow was several inches deep and still coming down. I was thankful that Nitro had lent me his four-wheel drive and wasted no time getting out on the road. I was anxious to get to Harper, but I was hopeful that she was okay. If whoever had taken her had wanted her dead, they would’ve already killed her. They wouldn’t have taken the time to move her to another cabin. It was too risky—at least that’s what I told myself as I sped towards Whiskey Creek.
We were still a few miles away when Ryder asked, “Why do you think he has her?”
“Man, I just don’t know. It could be anyone. Maybe it’s her ex. She just cut things off with him a couple of days ago. Maybe he wasn’t all that keen on the idea.”
“I guess we’ll be finding out soon enough.”
When we finally made it to her road, I killed the lights to the truck and pulled over on the side of the road so they wouldn’t see us as we approached. When I opened the door, I looked over to Ryder and said, “Wait for my signal before you go in.”
He nodded and followed me up to the cabin. I eased my way over to the side window and spotted Harper standing alone at the kitchen window. I motioned for Ryder to stay behind as I started towards the back porch, hoping I might be able to get her attention. When I got to the window, I was surprised to see that she was wa
shing dishes at the sink. I tried to look behind her to see who was with her, but I didn’t notice anyone. Not wanting to startle her, I got out my phone and flashed the light back and forth over the snow. As I hoped, it caught her attention, and when she saw me, her head raised high and a big, goofy smile spread across her face. Like it was no big deal, like she hadn’t been kidnapped by a deranged lunatic, she lifted her hand and waved to me, then motioned towards the door, letting me know that it was okay to come inside. I had no idea what the hell was going on, but I did like she said and headed for the door.
By the time I made my way around, she was standing there with the door open and she whispered, “Come on in. He’s sleeping.”
“Who’s sleeping?”
“Oliver.”
“Who the fuck is Oliver, Harper?” I asked, trying my best not to shout.
By this time, Ryder had made his way over to the door and he looked just as confused as I was. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just come in and I’ll explain everything, but try to be quiet. He’s asleep.” She ushered us both inside, and we followed her over to the corner of the kitchen. “Do you remember Claudia?”
“Wait.” I could see that she was okay, I could hear it in her voice, but I needed to feel her in my arms. I charged forward, wrapping my arms around her, and hugged her tightly. “Are you really okay?”
“Yes, Max. I’m fine.”
I could feel her heart beating against my chest, her warmth in my arms, and I knew she was okay, but I couldn’t let her go—not just yet. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared.”
“I’m sorry. I thought I’d be back home before you even realized I was gone.”
As I released her, I asked, “Now, who were you talking about?”
“Claudia. The woman who sent all the gifts?”
“Oh, yeah. The woman who reads for you. What about her?”
She motioned to a figure covered with blankets on the sofa. “Well, that’s Oliver, her husband.”