“Cut the crap!”
“I’m not having this discussion. You know the way out.” She held Charm by her side and snuggled back into bed.
Mick ripped the blankets off her bed. “I told you to move!”
“Go to hell.” She made a grab for the blankets, but he was quicker, and they ended up on the floor.
“Damn you, get dressed.” He opened the dresser and threw clothes on the bed. All black.
Ignoring them, she pulled up her knees and covered them with the T-shirt she’d talked Jordan into leaving.
Furious, he kicked the blankets aside. “Hurry. We don’t have much time.”
She didn’t move.
“Goddamn.” He flew across the room and grabbed a handful of her shirt. “Get dressed. You got one minute.”
“No.”
Then the gun he pulled out of his belt was pointed at her forehead.
“Holy shit.” She slapped the barrel aside.
“Don’t make me use this,” he said in a deadly voice.
“Are you going to shoot me? That’ll really help you.”
Coldly, calmly, he pointed the gun at Charm. “Get moving.”
****
A half-hour later, Mick stopped and cut the lights. Through the cluster of trees he’d parked in, Mel could see about two-dozen houses in a large, oblong circle. Dozens of bell-shaped streetlights illuminated a small garden and the paved road that connected the short driveways. This “no kids allowed” development was more upscale than Mick’s usual pick.
“Third one back on the left.” Mick’s voice shook. His fingers tapped a nervous rhythm on the steering wheel. A muscle jumped in his neck. Even his eyes looked twitchy.
A cold finger of dread ran up Mel’s spine. “What’s going on, Mick?”
“Don’t make any noise.”
“Dogs?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
He swallowed. “They’re home.”
“Screw this. I’m not going in. It’s the golden rule.”
“This is an exception,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
“We don’t make exceptions.”
“We are now.” He kept his gaze locked on the house.
“I’m not getting out of this car.”
He leaned back with his eyes closed. “It all went to hell. I got distracted. A car pulled into the garage. You need to fix it. Just fix it.”
She’d never heard that pleading tone in his voice. Panic tickled her throat. “Fix what?”
“Dammit!” His fist hit the dash. “I couldn’t get her out. Now she’s stuck in there. She doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t have your instincts. If they find her, she’ll fold. She’ll tell them everything. Get her out!”
Mel’s body turned to ice. “You low life son-of-a -bitch. How dare you?” From her awkward position in the passenger seat, she swung.
He blocked her. “You didn’t give me a choice.”
“How could you do this to her? Are you out of your mind?” She knew the stigma Carley would have to live with if anyone found out. She’d never get the chance to be a normal teenager. Carley’s life would be hell. Her life had been hell, and she was tougher than Carley.
“I had to!” he yelled. “It’s your fault.” Now he talked quickly, like he was trying to convince himself. “You’re responsible. You need to fix it. I wouldn’t have used her if you’d get your head on straight and stop playing high and mighty. I taught you everything. I made you the best. You can’t turn your back on that.”
“You’re pathetic. She’s your granddaughter for God’s sake. Your only granddaughter! How dare you ruin her life to suit you?”
She kicked the door open. “I’ll get her. Then this is going to end. You crossed the line, Mick.” Only after she slammed the car door, did she realize she’d let her emotions take control. She crossed to the driver side, waited while Mick cranked down the window. Somehow, she fought off the terrible urge to kill him right there.
“If this car isn’t right here, in this exact spot when we get out, you will regret it. Carley’s going through hell. We are not hitchhiking home.”
“I’m not waitin’ long.”
“Then run, you coward, but leave the car and keys or I’ll hunt you down and make you pay a hundred times over. Got it?”
He stared at her for a long minute. “The bathroom window. East side.”
“They could have locked it.”
“I broke the lock.”
The two-story house must have a crawl space because the front door was three steps up, and there weren’t any windows at ground level. Full basements were rare in western Washington, especially in newer homes. The bathroom window was three feet wide, but only about six inches tall. The sill sat a good seven feet above the ground. She hated those long, skinny, privacy windows. Carley must have climbed on Mick’s shoulders to get in.
Since Mel didn’t have someone to boost her up, she went around back to get a couple patio chairs. They didn’t stack easily, so she wedged the cushions between them to reduce the wobble. When she reached the window, it looked even narrower, but if Carley could go in this way, so could she.
Bracing her hands on the ledge, she boosted herself up. Her feet dangled, and her chest got stuck. Damn, she forgot Carley didn’t have boobs yet. She caught the siding with her toe, but couldn’t find a purchase. Damn Mick and his stupid bathroom windows.
There was no going out, so she pushed and pulled. Her back scraped against the top. One breast was in, the other out. She managed to slip her bra strap off her shoulder, and sucked herself as skinny as she could get. Her breast scraped painfully against the sill as she forced her body through.
For a minute, she stood there, gathering herself and listening to the silence. Her chest hurt like hell, so she stuffed toilet paper in her bra in case it was bleeding. The checklist Mick made her memorize so long ago came back clearly. Shoes off. Listen. Wait. Only Carley was waiting, and Mel couldn’t afford to waste time. She hurried out of the bathroom.
If Carley ended up in the kitchen or living room, she could have climbed out a window. That’s what Mel would have done, but Carley might freeze, which meant she could be anywhere.
Paintings hung on the wall in a formal living room. She ignored them and the ugly antique vases as she searched the room. There wasn’t any clutter and the upscale furniture was minimal. The house barely looked lived in, which made her job easier. She checked the closets, the empty guest bedroom, the office and every nook and cranny a pre-teen girl could hide in.
Carley wasn’t on the first floor.
As she went up the stairs, she kept close to the wall so there was less chance of creaks. The first room was used for storage. Searching it took longer than the entire first floor. A nervous, heavy feeling made her want to hurry, so she purposely slowed down.
The bathroom was empty; that left the set of double doors that would lead to the master bedroom. Mick always said to check the master bedroom first. That’s usually where she found most of the small valuables, like cash and jewelry. What if they’d found Carley? No, she couldn’t think of what ifs. She forced herself to focus, to take her time as she reached for the doorknob.
She opened the door with agonizing slowness. Minutes felt like hours. Finally it was open wide enough for her to get through. Snores came from the bed. The dim light coming through the curtains showed a set of sliding closet doors, the opening to a walk-in closet, and the corner of a vanity through the bathroom door.
With each step, her feet sank into plush, quiet carpet. As slowly as she’d opened it, she closed the door. With soft, even steps, she headed for the bathroom. A frosted glass door hid the shower. Rather than pull it open and risk unwanted sounds, she tapped on it.
“Carley?” she said on an exhalation.
What if Carley fell asleep? Mel pressed a thick towel against the door and pulled. The latch resisted. She pulled and it swung open with a click. The shower was empty. The snores continued with
the same rhythm, and she let out a breath. She checked the walk-in closet without a sound, but didn’t find Carley. That left the small closet.
Using the snores to cover the sound, she slid the door open. Something felt out of place. She couldn’t see anything in the deep, musty black of the closet. It hadn’t been a sound, maybe only the movement of air. Now she could smell fear and a slight scent of urine. The combination tore at her heart.
“Carley,” she whispered, keeping her hands clenched so she wouldn’t reach for the girl and scare her.
“Carley, it’s me. Auntie Mel. I’m here to get you.” Now she heard a muffled sound. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”
The snores stopped. Blankets rustled. Mel froze. Someone grunted.
A soft thud came from the direction of the bed. Instinct took over. She curled into a ball, hiding her face, covering her hair with her arms and trying to look like nothing more than a shadow. Her heart hammered and she held her breath. Uneven footsteps trudged to the bathroom.
“Carley, I’m coming in.” She crawled onto a pile of something soft. At least she didn’t land on Carley.
“Mel?” Carley was on the far side of the closet.
“Quiet. I’m going to close the door. Then I’ll come to you.” When the toilet flushed, she put her hand on the edge of the door, pulling it closed so quickly it smashed her fingers against the wall. She sucked in a slow breath and waited for the footsteps to stop before putting her bruised finger in her mouth. When the pain eased, she moved.
The closet was like a cave, pitch black and suffocating. Mel crawled under the ceiling of hanging clothes, over a couple shoeboxes. Her knee hit something hard, and she picked up what felt like a suede boot with a spiked heel. Her hands touched denim, something that could have been leather, and a jumble of cotton. Something brushed her back. The thought of spiders made her bolt into a sitting position and swat at it. A belt dropped into her hand.
“Carley, when I touch you, don’t make a sound. It’s just me.”
Something hit her head and she jolted, barely managing to bite back a yelp. Carley rolled into her arms with a sob. Mel held her close and realized Carley had something pressed to her face to muffle the sound. As she stroked the girl’s back and whispered reassurances, tears rolled down her own cheeks. Carley’s innocence had been snatched away by a greedy old man.
“We’ll get out of here. Everything will be fine.” The loud buzz of an alarm made them both jump.
“Quiet,” Mel whispered. “Now we wait.” She leaned her back against the wall and piled clothes in front of them, before cradling Carley in her arms.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The irritable conversation from the bedroom was replaced with the sound of a shower. Someone yawned. A loud voice filled the room with a weather update. They were calling for rain.
After three Seattle traffic reports, Carley finally calmed down. Her head rested on a pillow of clothes piled on Mel’s lap and her even breathing meant she slept. Mel stroked the girl’s hair and waited. Now that the adrenaline had faded, she was simply numb. If she’d stopped Mick long ago, would today have been different? Was it her fault Carley was here?
The closet door slid open. Sweat trickled down the back of Mel’s neck. She closed her eyes and held her breath, praying Carley wouldn’t make a sound in her sleep. She should have kept her awake. The clothes above her rustled. Something was pulled out. Please don’t let them look for shoes. Finally, the door closed.
It may have taken twenty minutes or two hours for the homeowners to leave the bedroom. Finally, she heard the rumble of a garage door and the sound of a car leaving. Ten minutes later, another car left. She shook Carley’s shoulder.
Carley groaned and grumbled, then bolted upright. “Auntie Mel?”
“It’s okay, sweetie.”
“It wasn’t a nightmare,” she wailed. “I wanted it to be a nightmare.”
And it would be, for years, but Mel didn’t have the heart to tell her that.
“Shh. The house should be empty, but we have to be careful. Come on.” Without giving Carley a chance to protest, she opened the closet door. The room was illuminated in the early morning light peeking between the slats on the window.
“Stay here,” she whispered. “I need to look outside.” Peeling Carley’s fingers off her arm, she parted the blinds to look out.
“It’s going to rain.”
“So?”
“You’re dressed for sun.” Carley wore navy shorts and a peach colored tank top, so Mel found a long-sleeved flannel shirt in the closet. It hung loose on Carley, so she left it unbuttoned, rolled the sleeves and tied the tails in a knot. Perfect pre-teen style, just a girl borrowing her daddy’s shirt.
They were almost out the bedroom door when Carley pulled her hand free. “Wait.” She ran back to the closet to get a bright yellow shoebox.
“Leave it.”
“I can’t,” Carley whispered and tears leaked from her eyes.
“We’re not taking anything.”
“It’s...” She stared at the beige carpet. “I used it.”
Mel realized that Carley had been in the closet all night, with no access to the bathroom. Mel nodded and the girl emptied the box into the toilet before dropping it into a grocery bag.
“Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Mel raced to the east side of the house and took a look around. Next door, a woman with gray hair and polyester pants hummed as she pulled weeds from a flower garden. Further down the street, a Chevy Lumina pulled into a driveway. The driver honked. A man hurried out of the house, a cup of coffee in his hand and they drove away. She returned the chairs and cushions to the patio and checked the yard. A wide stream ran behind the house, blocking access to the road, but a faint trail ran beside it. They’d have to circle wide to get back to the car.
“Carley, we’re going for a walk. Come on.”
Carley’s body shook so hard that Mel took the bag and squeezed her cold hand. Carley stared straight ahead and matched Mel’s steps, but her body jerked like a robot.
“Carley, look at me,” Mel said. When she did, Mel smiled. “Now try to look like we’re supposed to be here. Roll your shoulders and loosen your stride. Imagine you’re walking next to the lake on a sunny day.” They started walking, but Carley couldn’t relax. “Try laughing. Or skipping.”
Carley narrowed her eyes. “I’m twelve and seven-eighths. I don’t skip.”
Mel laughed. “Okay. Let me tell you a joke.” She talked as they walked along the faint trail. The stream gurgled. The air smelled like rain. Finally, they ducked into the trees and circled around to Mick’s car. The keys were in the ignition. Mick was gone.
“Carley,” she said as they drove back to town. “I have to go back to Denver this morning. Will you be okay while I’m gone?”
Carley wiped away a tear. “I leave for camp this afternoon. It’s ten days.”
“Good. I know you can’t forget what happened, but try not to worry about it. We’ll figure out what to do when we both get back. Deal?” She parked in front of Sara’s house. Carley didn’t answer. She just stared at nothing, her eyes so full of misery they tore at Mel’s heart. Mick would pay for hurting the girl. Somehow, she’d make sure he paid.
Mel couldn’t leave her this unhappy. She ruffled Carley’s straight blonde hair. “So, are there any boys at that camp?”
Carley rolled her eyes. “Right, like Mom would let me near an overnight camp if there were boys within fifty miles. I mean I love her and everything, but she really is an uptight prude. Don’t tell her I said that,” she added quickly.
Mel nearly choked in surprise, then burst into laughter.
“A prude?” Mel managed to say. “Maybe you should ask her about the stripper we hired for her eighteenth birthday party.”
Carley’s mouth dropped open. “A stripper? My mom’s seen a stripper? No way.”
“Yep. She didn’t know about it until he got there. Then she kept her hands over her eyes like this.” Mel
demonstrated, then spread her fingers. “But she peeked, like this. The guy was skinny as a string bean, but by the time he got down to his G—um—the basics, Sara forgot about hiding her eyes. She just stared with her mouth hanging open. He offered to teach her the bump and grind. When it finally dawned on her that he meant a dance, she laughed so hard she fell off her chair.”
Carley’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure you’re not thinking of Auntie Yvonne?”
“Positive. I took pictures of Sara getting her dance lesson. He wasn’t much of a stripper, but he was a great dancer.” Mel gave the girl an inquisitive look. “How do you think Sara learned to dance?”
“No way.”
“Ask her to bring out her old school stuff. The pictures are tucked inside her sophomore yearbook. You better get to it before she does, or you’ll never see them.” Sara would kill her for this, but seeing Carley relax was worth the price.
“Hmm.” Carley’s eyes narrowed.
Mel could almost see the gears turning in the girl’s head. Nope, Sara would never forgive her.
“Do you want me to go in with you?”
“No. I told Mom I was staying the night with Brandy. I’ll just say her mom dropped me off on her way to work.” Carley climbed out, gave a half-hearted wave, and disappeared into the house.
****
A knock rattled Mel’s door at a quarter to eight. She slipped into her robe and towel dried her hair as she went to open it. She’d barely had time for a shower after her jog back to the cabin. She’d left the car on a side road and locked the keys inside. Let Mick figure it out.
She reached for the doorknob, and her robe chafed the scrape on her right breast, making her wince. Her shoulder wasn’t as bad, but the bruises ached, and her favorite black bra, now bloodstained, was in the trash. One more reason to make Mick pay.
She opened the door, expecting to see Mick and ready to lay into him, but Jordan stepped in and wrapped his arms around her. She yelped, as much in surprise as pain.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sorry. Just a scrape.” She tried to find a convincing lie. She hated lying to Jordan, and this was one more thing Mick would pay for. “I slipped on the back steps this morning.”
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