***
Alex stood at the side of the high school track, trying not to laugh. Mackenzie was determined to try and keep up with her older brother. “Well, she never quits. I will give her that,” Alex muttered as she watched her daughter pump her arms ferociously to gain speed. She laughed. “Oh, Kenz, I didn’t deem him Speed for nothing.”
Dylan rounded the final turn and glanced back over his shoulder. He looked down the last stretch at Alex and received the wink he knew gave him permission to slow his pace. He chuckled. “I’d have to crawl backward to let her catch up to me.” Dylan shook his head and turned deliberately on his heels, increasing his speed in the opposite direction toward his little sister. Mackenzie squealed when Dylan reached her. He lifted her in one fluid motion and guided her onto his back.
“Dylan!” Mackenzie tried to protest through her giggles. Dylan kept running toward Alex.
“He is strong,” Alex’s assistant coach, Doug Meyers commented as the pair rounded the final turn.
Alex looked on affectionately. “Yeah, and he’ll want extra credit for running with weights,” she commented.
Dylan was out of breath by the time he reached Alex. Mackenzie vaulted from his back, and Dylan bent over to try and catch his breath. “You’re getting heavy,” he looked across at his sister. “Pretty soon, you’ll be passing me,” he told her. Mackenzie looked up at Alex and smiled proudly.
“You were keeping a good pace there, Kenz,” Alex complimented her daughter. It wasn’t lip-service. Mackenzie would likely never keep pace with Dylan. Alex hated to admit that she could barely keep stride with her son when he pushed his pace. He was taller and stronger than her. But, Mackenzie was nothing if not determined. That was an attribute that Alex hoped the youngster would retain throughout life.
Alex watched as the last three runners on her team rounded the home stretch. “Stretch it out and get some water,” she directed the team. “Tomorrow, be ready for me to press you.”
“We done already?” Dylan asked Alex with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I mean, I’m sure you’re tired after sitting behind that desk all day,” he teased.
Alex lifted an eyebrow at the teenager. Dylan enjoyed challenging her. “Starting line in five,” she challenged him.
“Oooo,” Mackenzie teased her brother. “Mom’s gonna teach you a lesson,” she goaded him.
Dylan swatted Mackenzie playfully on the backside. “We’ll see.”
Mackenzie took a seat on the bleachers and readied herself for the race between her brother and her mother. It was a common occurrence. She’d yet to witness Dylan beating her mother, and she doubted that he ever would. She loved them both. They were her heroes. But, Alex? Alex was invincible in Mackenzie’s mind. She sometimes wondered if her mother was made of steel. It seemed to Mackenzie that Alex could handle anything and master everything.
Dylan stretched his back as he walked toward the starting line. Alex finished some last-minute notes with Doug and began making her way toward her son. “You up to this?” Alex asked him.
“Are you?” Dylan returned.
Alex smirked. “Wise ass.”
“Worried?” Dylan poked.
“Mmm. For you,” she replied as they took their positions.
“Last chance,” Dylan goaded Alex.
Alex kept her eyes forward. “Uh-huh. Winner buys pizza.”
“Fine by me,” Dylan laughed. “Either way, you’re paying.” Alex looked at her son for an explanation. Dylan shrugged. “Well, my money is your money if you think about it.”
Alex laughed. “So, in other words, I lose either way.”
“I’ll take it easy on you,” he promised.
Alex pursed her lips. “Don’t,” she ordered him. She called out to Mackenzie. “Call it out Kenz!”
Alex and Dylan resumed their starting positions. Mackenzie stood up and cleared her throat. “Ready! Set! Go!”
“God, help me,” Alex thought when she heard Mackenzie bellow her final command.
***
“Quiet,” a raspy voice whispered. “Shhh. Big girls don’t cry. Shhh.”
Frightened eyes peered over a piece of electrical tape, pleading for mercy. The man smiled and stroked the young girl’s blonde hair as if she were his pet. He cocked his head to one side and contemplated her. “Shhh,” he repeated, his voice hovering slightly above a whisper. She flinched at the sensation of his hot breath in her ear. His lips wrinkled into a satisfied smirk, delighting in the waves of fear that poured off his captive. He breathed it all in, savoring the intoxicating aroma of terror. Slowly, he placed his cheek against hers, breathing steadily, wanting to prolong his time with her, desiring to feel the palpable energy that terror provided—power. She felt it—his power. He could taste it. “Sh. Sh. Sh. Sh,” he cooed to the young woman. He watched as her eyes closed in resignation, and he moaned softly.
She had struggled more than he had expected. It had taken him some time to calm the rage within him. He glanced at the angry, red marks on his arms. It only made this moment more satisfying. Struggle required power. He would take hers, and she would know his. Again, his hand caressed the blonde head, and he breathed in the scent of her body close to his. His hand traveled over her neck, down a breast that strained against its will toward his touch. He’d never stopped marveling at the reality of these moments. Fear caused a body to bend. As much as he had encountered resistance, there inevitably were moments when he tasted submission. It was as if the body understood its helplessness before the mind could comprehend. He would take what he wanted. His fingertips brushed over the cord that wound around small wrists, binding them in a painful twist. A sadistic hiss rolled from his lips into her ear and lingered. He felt her shudder and closed his eyes to savor the moment.
“Intoxicating, isn’t it?” he cooed. “Fear,” he continued. “The adrenalin as it drips through your veins. What does it taste like?” he asked her, lust coloring his voice.
Green eyes fluttered closed, and a single tear slipped over a bruised cheek. She whimpered, the taste of blood and glue mingling in her mouth. She had fought for escape. She’d battled for control. Now, she prayed for release.
He sniggered maniacally. He had felt her cross the threshold of resistance. She was his. Like all the others, he would lay final claim to her. He leaned in and pulled her closer. He plunged the knife into her side first, just enough to make her scream against her restraints. He pulled back, and his eyes gleamed with satisfaction. He grinned. Her body bucked and her legs kicked in one final desperate attempt to save her life. His eyes narrowed, and she met them with a stoicism that surprised him for a second. He cocked his head and offered her a sympathetic pout laced with sarcasm. She held his gaze, and he followed through with the next blow, and the next, and the next until she went limp in his arms.
The man let out an exasperated breath, closed his eyes, and craned his neck, enjoying the pop that followed. He inhaled deeply. He traced his lips with a fingertip, removing the spatters of wetness he found there. Instinctively, his tongue snaked out, and he basked in the tinny taste as it traveled down his throat. The scent of blood filled the air, mixing with a lingering aroma of fear. He gradually opened his eyes. His head moved from side to side as he considered the huddled form on the floor. He sniffed the air one last time, made his way to the bathroom, and shed his clothes. One swift twist of the shower dial and he was standing under a steady stream of hot water. He lifted his face to greet it and began to hum a familiar tune. “A hunting we will go,” the words sprang from his lips. “We’ll catch a fox, and put her in a box. And then, we’ll let her,” he stopped singing and laughed. “Know.”
CHAPTER TWO
“Abby, no,” Cassidy told her daughter. Abby looked up at Cassidy and pouted. Cassidy shook her head and raised her brow. “No,” she repeated firmly.
Abby’s eyes began to fill with tears and Cassidy sighed lightly. Abby was the most sensitive of any of Alex and Cassidy’s children. Cassidy sometimes found herself
at a loss dealing with the toddler. Unlike Mackenzie or either of her brothers, Abby’s sensitivity was always genuine. That was not to say that the Toles children were not softhearted—they were. But, Cassidy understood that all kids could be manipulative—even hers.
As a teacher, Cassidy had reassured numerous parents over the years that a child’s inclination to manipulate situations did not equate to becoming a deceptive adult. She had spent her first two years in elementary education. It had taught her a great deal about the way children navigated their world. Cassidy had always been grateful for that short stint, believing that it had helped prepare her for motherhood in tangible ways. Children needed to learn how to fulfill their desires and goals as much as they required limits placed upon them. A simple pout, an angry tantrum, faking the occasional stomach ache—these were all a part of discovering both how to leverage the world they lived in and how to accept boundaries. Cassidy had always tried to walk a fine line with her children. In most cases, she easily recognized genuine hurt or anxiety. And, it followed that Cassidy was usually able to discern when one of her children was putting on a show for her benefit, hoping to get his or her way. While Abby happily engaged in innocent toddler schemes with her twin brother, Cassidy continued to be amazed that the little girl had not seemed to develop a sense that she should pretend to feel any certain way. With Abby, what she displayed was what she genuinely felt.
Cassidy smiled compassionately at Abby. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said calmly. “Not today, okay?” Cassidy tried a different tactic. Abby nodded.
“Mommy!” Connor called for Cassidy’s attention.
“Yes, Connor?”
“Blue flakes!” he pointed to a box on the shelf.
Cassidy rolled her eyes. She was not sure where Connor had come up with the name Blue Flakes, although she suspected if she grilled Alex hard enough she would likely find out. “Corn Flakes?” she asked Connor.
“Blue,” he told her.
“Connor,” Cassidy began. “Why do you call them Blue Flakes? They aren’t blue,” she pointed out. Connor shrugged. Cassidy pursed her lips and raised her brow at him.
“Momma likes ‘em blue,” Connor said adamantly.
“Momma likes her Corn Flakes blue?” Cassidy tried to understand. Connor nodded.
“Yep,” he replied. Abby nodded her agreement.
Cassidy shrugged just as Helen came up behind the threesome. “What’s going on?” she asked Cassidy.
“Sometimes, it’s better not to ask,” Cassidy said, throwing a box of Corn Flakes into the basket with her children, and pushing the cart forward.
Helen looked at the toddlers in the cart curiously and received two identical smiles. She shook her head. “Good thing you two stopped at four,” she commented to Cassidy. Cassidy smirked. Helen immediately noted the amused twinkle in her daughter-in-law’s eye. “Oh, no. You’re not. Are you?” Helen stopped Cassidy’s progression. Cassidy offered her mother-in-law a smile. “Does she know?” Helen asked. Cassidy shook her head. “Oh, my God. You’re not kidding. Are you kidding?”
Cassidy laughed. “No, I was going to tell her this weekend. You just uncovered the secret first,” she said.
“I didn’t know you two were even trying again.”
Cassidy sighed. “We didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up—not even ours.”
Helen nodded. She was genuinely surprised to learn that Alex and Cassidy had decided for one more try in the children department. The fact that the pair wanted another child was not shocking to her at all. For years, Cassidy had teased Alex about trying to field a football team. Family meant everything to the couple. That was an undeniable fact to anyone who knew them. Cassidy was forty-three, and Alex would be turning the corner to forty-seven in a few months. It wasn’t uncommon for women to have children later in life, but it also was not something Helen had expected to receive as news from the pair. She patted Cassidy’s arm as they walked. “She’ll be over the moon—again.”
Cassidy nodded. She was positive that Alex would greet the news that they were expecting with excitement and emotion. She was equally certain that Alex would have concerns. They had not made the decision to try one more time lightly. Dylan was about to finish his junior year of high school. It wouldn’t be long and he would be headed off to college. Mackenzie was in second grade, and the twins were finally becoming more self-sufficient. Cassidy had thought that she would be ready to head back to work soon. Ironically, it had been Cassidy who had driven the decision to try and conceive one more time. She understood that people were all built for certain things. Alex, Cassidy knew, had a need to fix things—to solve puzzles, to try and erase what Alex deemed as danger from the world. Cassidy? Cassidy had grown to understand with each passing year that while she loved teaching, motherhood was her calling. She continued to tutor part-time, and she enjoyed it immensely, but raising the family she and Alex had built was her passion. She wasn’t ready to let that dwindle just yet.
Alex had expressed concerns. They had tried not long after the twins’ first birthday for another baby. Cassidy had miscarried just days after Cassidy’s first prenatal visit. It had devastated them both. Now, the clock was ticking against them. At first, Alex’s biggest worry had surrounded Cassidy’s potential disappointment. Their doctor had been honest and forthright about the difficulty they might face in conceiving. And, the doctor had stressed that regardless of Cassidy’s excellent health, her age made a pregnancy considerably higher risk. After months of discussion, Alex had acquiesced to Cassidy’s wishes. She’d always greeted Cassidy’s teasing about wanting to start a football team with their children good-naturedly. A football team might have been pushing the envelope a bit, but Alex would never have denied that having children with Cassidy had been the single most meaningful part of her life. The thought of losing Cassidy or any of their children was unthinkable to her, and Alex did not care for the word ‘risk’ as it pertained to her wife or children.
“Cassidy?” Helen called for Cassidy’s attention.
Cassidy smiled at the older woman. “She will be—over the moon,” Cassidy agreed “But, she’ll probably lock me up and throw away the key at the same time.”
Helen chuckled. “Don’t worry; I know how to pick locks.”
***
“Nothing,” Jerry Daniels groaned. “It’s like she just disappeared into thin air.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to be found,” Jared Brown suggested.
Daniels glared at the younger man, and Dave Siminski decided it was time to cool the tension he felt building. “Possible,” Siminski conceded. “Possible, but not likely,” he said. “Doesn’t fit.”
“You think someone took her? Abducted her?” Brown guessed.
The muscles in Siminski’s jaw twitched perceptibly. He looked at his old friend and saw the same concern in Detective Jerry Daniels’ eyes. “I’d bet on it.”
“There’s nothing here to indicate that,” Brown pointed out.
Siminski looked up at the sky. Sunshine had given way to indigo. He wiped a hand over his face in frustration. The state forest covered nearly two-hundred acres. There was no way to be certain which path Kaylee Peters had taken. If she had met with foul play, which Siminski felt certain was the case, she’d likely been dragged off any marked trails. That would make a search for evidence daunting beyond belief. He shook his head. “I don’t like it.”
“I agree,” Daniels said. “We’re going to lose light soon,” he observed. Siminski nodded. “Thoughts?” Daniels asked.
“Start with the usual suspects, the normal protocol,” Siminski replied.
Daniels’ narrowed his gaze at his friend. “This is not going to be my case for long; is it?”
Siminski chuckled. “Hard to say,” he answered. “She could turn up at home in an hour.”
“Or?” Brown asked.
“Or she could never turn up at all,” Siminski said bluntly. He smiled apologetically before taking in his surroundings a final time. “There�
�s someone I want to consult,” he said. “Before you officially bring us into the equation.”
“Who?” Brown wondered.
Siminski grinned. “The only person I know who has ever captured a ghost.”
***
“Pizza, huh?” Cassidy wrapped her arms around Alex’s waist.
“I figured that you could use a break,” Alex replied as she loaded the last dish into the dishwasher.
Cassidy kissed Alex’s back and made her way to lean against the counter beside her wife. “Almost beat you, didn’t he?” she laughed. Mackenzie had regaled the family over dinner with the story of Dylan and Alex’s impromptu race that afternoon.
Alex nodded. “He did beat me,” she told Cassidy. Cassidy’s brow furrowed with confusion. “He would have if he’d given it his all,” Alex explained.
“Took it easy on you?” Cassidy surmised. Alex nodded again. “Alex, you’re still his hero; you know?”
“I wish he would trust that I am okay with the reality that he is faster than me now.”
“Maybe it’s Dylan who isn’t ready to let that be the case,” Cassidy suggested.
“Why?” Alex asked.
Cassidy shrugged. “He’s the same way with me when we ski,” Cassidy said. “He can ski circles around me but he doesn’t.”
“Cass, I don’t know many people who can ski circles around you.”
Cassidy laughed. “You’re biased.”
“Nope. Just honest,” Alex disagreed. “I guess we’ll both have one more season with Speed around to feed our middle-aged egos—me on the track, you on the slope,” Alex said. Cassidy smirked and looked at her feet. “What’s funny?” Alex asked.
Untold Page 2