by Terry Keys
”Okay,” I said. “Well, thanks for telling me how you really feel.”
“Dad, you asked,” Hilary said. “And I’d rather tell you exactly how I feel than hold it in. Trust me, it’d be much worse that way.”
“And little one?” I said, looking down at Karen. “Your thoughts?”
“I think Coach Stacy will fit into our family just fine,” she said without looking up from her cereal. “I’ve wanted a new mommy for a long time.” She paused, plucking a piece of cereal from the side of her bowl and popping it into her mouth. “Coach Stacy said she’s always wanted a family.”
“Thanks, princess.” I pushed away from the table. “Stacy and I have a date tonight. We’ll talk about it and take it from there.”
We downed the last of our cereal and stacked the dishes in the sink. As I waited for the girls to grab their backpacks, I stared at my reflection in the hallway mirror.
I still wasn’t sure I’d waited long enough. Stacy seemed like a great girl, but I knew you don’t really know someone until you’d lived with them. And I wasn’t certain if lust and lust alone was making decisions for me.
48
“Hello?” Miranda called out. She heard someone coming. She had never asked for anything the entire time she’d been in captivity, but she hadn’t eaten in at least three days, and the hunger had grown unbearable. She didn’t have much room to move, seeing as her captor had placed a manacle around her left wrist and chained her to the wall. She sat on a soiled mattress—another improvement over being restrained in a chair. She had also been given a covered diaper pail to use when she needed to take care of her business. She liked it much better than the old way they’d been doing things. Before, the bitch had given her a bell to ring when she needed to go. But if her captor didn’t come, she had no choice but to do what she had to do. It gave her some satisfaction to watch the bitch clean it up. Sometimes, though, the woman would just let her sit in it for days. Miranda was relieved when the bitch finally tired of the cleanup and put an adult diaper on her. She figured nowadays the bitch was too busy to tend to her, thus the diaper pail.
Stacy appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Miranda swallowed her pride, prepared to voice her request.
“Hello, dear,” Stacy cooed. “Are you hungry? Oh, I bet you are. It’s been a few days now, hasn’t it? I bought you some new dog food. I think you’ll like this more than the last brand I bought. This is supposed to have more flavor and vitamins, too. Gotta keep you alive.”
Dog food, cat food . . . at this point it really didn’t matter. Miranda swallowed, her throat parched from lack of water.
“I don’t understand what I did for you to be so cruel to me.”
“Aww, you sound so sweet and innocent,” Stacy said. “Well, shit happens, Miranda! I didn’t deserve what happened to me either, but hey, that’s life. Right? Moving on. It’s all about moving on. I’ll be moving in real soon now. Maybe I’ll come down one day and we can talk about baby names. Think you could help me pick one out? I hope we have a little boy, and then David will really forget all about you.”
Miranda reminded herself to remain in pure survival mode. Eventually, the bitch would make a mistake, and she had to be ready to jump on it. Whatever it took. She just had to think of a way to set herself free.
“Sure,” Miranda said. “I’ll help you pick out a baby name. I know which ones David prefers. I hope you have a boy, too, and a healthy one.”
Stacy frowned. “You yanking my chain?” she asked. “You feeling okay? Need more sunlight down here or something?” She laughed. “That was not the answer I was expecting, but I may just take you up on it.”
She turned around to pour dog kibble into a bowl and then placed it on the mattress within Miranda’s reach. “Can I get you anything else while I’m here, seeing as how we’re being so nice to each other?”
Miranda looked away. As quickly as Stacy had come, she headed back up the stairs, leaving Miranda alone in the cold, dimly lit basement with only her thoughts to keep her company.
49
De Luca sat in the ladies’ locker room, contemplating what she would say to Porter when they rode together today. At this point, she knew she had to say something to him. She didn’t trust Stacy. Something just didn’t seem right about her. She didn’t want to come across as jealous, but with her obvious dislike for Stacy, she wasn’t really sure that was possible.
She had even taken one more look at the last bits of evidence to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.
He’s late, De Luca thought as she waited at the front of the station for him. Five minutes later, he pulled in and slowly eased his truck to a stop in front of her. She opened the door and climbed in.
“You’re late, sir,” she said as she fastened her seat belt. “Girlfriend trouble, Porter?”
“No, and good morning to you too.” He glanced at her. “I had to drop the girls off at school. We got a late start, that’s all.”
She sighed. “Porter—”
“David.”
She nodded. “David, I’m not sure what’s going on between me and Stacy. I have no clue what I did to make her dislike me, aside from having breasts, but she clearly doesn’t. Which is okay by me, because I really don’t care. But beyond that, something just doesn’t seem right with her.”
She glanced at him. He looked out the windshield, features bland. “Don’t get me wrong; I’m not trying to hook up with you or anything.” That brought a smile. “But the cop in me says she’s got issues. To be honest, I think she’s trying too hard to seem perfect.”
“Well, thank you, Detective De Luca, for that rousing, in-depth, fact-based report on my girlfriend,” he said, finally glancing her way. “It seems everyone except Karen has a problem with her.”
She shrugged. “Maybe you should listen to them. Everyone can’t be wrong, can they?”
“Yeah, well, I think I’m going to take my chances. Thanks anyway.”
De Luca hadn’t wanted to piss him off, but it appeared she had. She thought about apologizing, but that just wasn’t her style. She’d said what she felt about the matter, and the truth was always best. Right? It was going to be a fun day.
50
Stacy looked out the window and saw David pulling into the driveway. She had forgotten to turn the basement speakers on and hurried down to do so. She heard the distant thud as David got out of his truck and closed the door. He’d be at her front door any second.
“Don’t mind me, Miranda,” she announced. “Just taking care of some administrative details. You just lay there and listen.”
Stacy quickly returned upstairs, closing the basement door just as the front doorbell rang.
“Hey there,” she said as she opened the door.
“Hey,” David said, looking at her. “You okay? You sound winded.”
She waved a hand. “No, no, I’m okay. I just left a pan on the stove and had to turn it off.”
“You cooking? I thought we were going out to eat.”
Again she waved him off. “Yeah, we are. I’d made some tea earlier and realized I’d forgotten to turn the burner off. You’re early.”
“It’s 7:00. I’m right on time. If you want to sit down and have that tea, we can.”
“No . . . we have reservations, so we should get going.”
“You look amazing, as usual,” David said as he leaned forward to give her a kiss.
“Thank you, sir. You’re pretty dapper yourself.”
“I clean up well, or so I’ve been told.” He gestured toward the door. “You ready to go?”
“You bet.”
Stacy grabbed a sweater from the hall closet and shrugged into it as she followed David out to the truck. She thought he seemed oddly subdued, but didn’t question him about it. She turned to the window and smirked. After all, the man had a lot on his mind lately.
They pulled up to the restaurant and left the car with the valet. They walked inside, arm in arm.
“What name for th
e reservation, sir?” the host asked.
“Porter,” Stacy said before David could reply. “Table for two.”
“Already using my name, huh?” David teased.
“Just practicing, babe. Hopefully one day . . .”
They were seated promptly. Stacy pretended to study the menu, though only one thing was on her mind.
“So what did the girls have to say about my weekend stay?”
David shrugged, his gaze still riveted on the menu. “Well, we talked about it, and we’d like you to move in with us.”
He glanced up at her, and she struggled to contain her amusement. She nodded instead, as she could tell he had more to say.
“I think it would be good for all of us. Hilary was a little afraid you’d want to change all the household rules, but I don’t see that happening, personally. If anything, she may need someone to be a little harder on her than I have been at times.”
Stacy pretended to be overcome with emotion and dabbed at her eyes with her cloth napkin. She even managed a tear. He fell for it.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, placing his menu on the table, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. “What did I do?”
“Nothing.” She sniffled. “This is just all . . . too perfect. I’ve wanted a family of my own forever. That’s why, from the beginning, I was so upfront with you about what I wanted. And now it looks like it’s finally happening.” She flashed him a dazzling smile. “I couldn’t be happier, David.”
He reached out for her hand. “I hope you won’t change your mind once you move in and become immersed in Porter family life twenty-four hours a day.”
“No, never,” she said. “And I’ll be careful with Hilary. I was a teenage girl once. I know things can be kinda crazy at that age. I want this to work in the worst way. You have no idea.”
Later, after a pleasant dinner, she and David headed back to her house. She could hardly wait. The speaker was on, and she fully intended to make the most of it. “I do have a question for you,” David said as Stacy hung her sweater in the entryway closet. “What exactly are your plans regarding kids? You said you wanted more at some point?”
He sounded reluctant and she caught on.
“Not right away, David,” she said, smiling sweetly. “I think every girl wants a kid or two of her own, but I’m years away from that. Let me get it right with the two we have first.”
He smiled at her response. She could see the relief oozing out of him. Stacy had no intention of telling him she’d been off her pills for weeks in anticipation of getting pregnant as quickly as possible.
“Don’t just stand there,” she said with a coy smile. “You’re coming in, right? You don’t have to ask to come in, David. Besides, I have something for you.”
She reached out her hand and led him through the kitchen toward the back bedroom, located right over Miranda’s head. Better acoustics in this room, she thought. She felt a twinge of alarm when she realized she had forgotten to place a kettle on the stove, as per her earlier excuse. He apparently didn’t notice, which was just fine with her.
She made sure she was extra loud and exuberant during their lovemaking, imagining Miranda just below them, weeping her stupid little eyes out.
51
I relaxed in my tub, filled nearly to the brim with hot-as-I-could-stand-it water. My knees and back ached. I wasn’t the twenty-something-year-old man I once was, and after moving Stacy’s belongings over to the house all day, I felt my age. We had already said good night to the girls. I opened my eyes and smiled as Stacy came into the bathroom and closed the door.
“There’s my superman,” she said, eyeing me. “You tired, honey?”
“Yeah.” I chuckled. “Guess I ain’t as young as I used to be.”
My thoughts caught on the word superman. That’s what Miranda used to call me.
“Okay, well since you’re tired . . .”
She untied the belt of her bathrobe and allowed it to slip off her shoulders. She wore nothing underneath it.
“Well I’m not that old or tired, ma’am,” I said. I pulled my knees to my chest as she stepped into the tub.
Later, as we lay in bed, I flipped through the channels on the TV. Stacy had fallen asleep in my arms. My channel-flipping stopped at channel 31, the one Miranda worked for before she disappeared. My heart skipped a beat when I realized the station was airing a telethon created in Miranda’s name to fund resources for families of kidnapping victims. How ironic to see it on the air tonight—the first night I brought another woman to live in my home and made love to her in the bed I once shared with Miranda. I clicked off the TV, closed my eyes, and grieved silently.
**
The bedroom door burst open and I awakened instantly. The sunlight shone through the curtains, casting the room in a warm glow as Karen rushed in, jumped into the bed, and hurled herself into my arms.
“Daddy! Daddy, wake up!”
“Good morning, sugarplum!” I laughed as I kissed her forehead.
“What the hell is going on?” Stacy moaned, burying her head under her pillow.
“Oh, Stacy, don’t mind Karen,” I said, nudging her. “You’ll have to get used to this. She does it every morning.”
“Whatever happened to knocking before you came into someone’s room?” Stacy muttered.
Karen looked at me and shrugged. I smiled at her.
“Come on, honey. It’s going to take Stacy a while to get used to your very special morning greeting.” I winked at her. “You know she’s been alone forever.”
I set Karen on the floor and shooed her out of the room so I could dress. Stacy remained motionless and silent, head still buried under her pillow. I chuckled as I left the room and went downstairs to fix the girls’ breakfast.
“Hilary!” I called upstairs. “Come on down.”
Karen giggled as Stacy staggered into the kitchen, bathrobe tightly belted around her waist.
“Well, look what the cat drug in,” I said, smiling at her.
“Where’s the coffee?”
I gestured toward the counter while Stacy eyed Karen.
“You have way too much energy in the morning, little girl.” She poured herself a cup of coffee. “I’ll pour you a bowl of cereal. What kind do you like?” she asked, opening the cupboards in search of cereal.
“Captain Crunch,” Karen said. “I’m the only one who’ll eat it. Dad and Hilary both hate it.”
“Yeah, she can have that crap,” Hilary added as she entered the kitchen, collapsed into a chair, and eyed her little sister with a disgusted scowl.
“No crap, young lady. Say stuff, if anything,” Stacy said. “Women don’t use the word crap.”
Before Hilary could reply, I turned to her with a grin, though I hoped I wouldn’t be playing referee all the time. “Yeah, I don’t like that crap—I mean, stuff—either.” I winked at Hilary.
“So Karen is the only Captain Crunch eater in the house? I’ll eat it too, Karen, but I prefer Cinnamon Toast Crunch,” Stacy said.
She turned to me. “David, I know I said I would take the girls to school, but I have the worst headache known to man. Would it be too much trouble if you took them?”
“Not a problem at all. Why don’t you go up and rest before your shift at the hospital starts?”
I gave her a kiss, rounded up Karen’s gear, and we were off.
Stacy smiled. With the house finally to herself, she ran through her to-do list. There was a pregnancy test to take and some hidden cameras to install—the ones she’d purchased from the firearms store a few days before. She would also take the opportunity to contaminate Karen’s Captain Crunch, now that she knew she was the only one who ate it. This would be easier than she’d thought—much easier.
She had stolen a bottle of Baclofen from the hospital. It wouldn’t take long for the drug to affect Karen’s little body. The Baclofen would make her disoriented and dizzy at first. Then she’d begin forgetting things. It might even kill her over time since she was so young
. Even better, no one would know what was making her sick. Let’s see if Miss No Feelings Miranda would react to her precious little brat getting sick . . . deathly sick.
But first things first. Stacy installed the hidden cameras and tested them using the laptop she kept in David’s bedroom. Then she pillaged Hilary’s room looking for anything that would prove valuable. She found what she was looking for in a small notebook stuffed in the back of her desk. She copied down a few passwords for her computer.
Finally, she headed into the bedroom with the pregnancy kit. She stuffed the box and wrappings into her purse to dispose of later. Then she sat on the toilet and peed on the stick.
“Oh my God!” she gasped. She had done it! She was pregnant.
She couldn’t believe her luck. She took care of business, dressed, and then pulled out her cell phone, unable to erase the grin that curved her lips. She’d previously rigged her answering machine to the speaker down in the basement so Miranda could hear incoming messages. All she had to do was press a code on her phone and the message would record on the machine, preventing the need to drive over every time she wanted to inform her prisoner of important news. This was the first time she’d actually used it. She punched in the number and waited for the beep.
“Hello, Miranda. I hope you weren’t sleeping, dear. Just wanted to give you the good news. I’m officially moved in. Yay for me! And even better news . . . I’m pregnant! I just found out this morning. Such news is too good not to share, don’t you think? I hope your day turns out as good as mine will be! Toodles!”
52
“Rodney, stop it,” Hilary said, laughing.
“Why do you always tell me to stop? You know you don’t really mean it.”
“I do mean it. What if my dad comes home early or something? Or she comes home early?”