by Blake Pierce
Her heart dropped in her chest as she stepped through the living area and into her bedroom. She was barely aware of Officer Henley following her, pausing at the doorway.
“You notice they didn’t take anything valuable?” Henley asked.
“I did.”
“Any idea who might have done this?”
“No,” she lied. The last thing she wanted was to accuse her father and get their drama wrapped up in legal proceedings, no matter how trivial. Besides…this was more of a personal matter. Bringing rules and laws into it would only complicate it. While Chloe was aware that this was a dangerous state of mind to take for a federal agent, she also felt that her father had fooled her for far too long. Maybe he was expecting it to become a big, legal thing. So, in that regard, Chloe sensed that it would be better to keep the entire ordeal between them a very quiet and personal matter.
Chloe looked to her bedside table and saw exactly what she had expected to see. The drawer on her bedside table was open. There were few personal keepsake items there, all tossed around. But the diary, which she had placed in the drawer late one night after the last time she had read some of its pages, was gone.
She was not surprised, but it still stung.
“Well, I guess you know the drill,” Henley said. “We’ll dust for prints, but that’s about all we can do for now. I spoke with your neighbor. She said she heard someone kicking at what she thought was just the wall at first, but then heard the door get kicked in. She was too afraid to come out on her own, so she just called the police. I got here as soon as I could with my partner—a little less than twelve minutes after the call—but by then, whoever broke in was gone.”
“Well, I appreciate your efforts.”
“Can you see where anything has been taken? Anything at all?”
“Not from first glance, no.” She hated lying so blatantly to a police officer but she didn’t see how she had much of a choice. “So Mrs. Tasker, my neighbor…she didn’t see anything?”
“No. She said she stayed inside the entire time.”
“I can’t say I blame her,” Chloe said. “I think I’m good for now.”
“We have a team coming to dust for prints. Will you be here for the next little bit?”
“I don’t know,” she said. She was already thinking about why her father might take the diary. She had read everything in it and knew of all of his evils…knew just how badly he had treated her mother. Perhaps he simply wanted it so that it could not be used against him in the future.
But would he really be so stupid? she wondered. Somehow, he knew I had the diary. But if he’s taken it, surely he knows I’ll figure it was him.
She also considered that it could have been Danielle. Maybe she had changed her mind and was reluctant to let her have it. But if that were the case, Danielle would just tell her. She didn’t mind an argument or two when it came to getting her way.
Her father, on the other hand…
“Agent Fine?”
Chloe realized she had gotten so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard the last few things Officer Henley had said to her.
“Sorry…just processing it all. What did you say?”
“I said to just call the station if there’s anything we can help you with.”
“Of course. Thanks, Officer.”
Henley gave her a perplexed look as she made her way back to the recently kicked-in door. Chloe wondered if she was that obvious. Did Henley suspect that she knew more than she was letting on? If so, she said absolutely nothing about it as she left the apartment.
Chloe took a moment to mentally put things in order. The hell of it was that she knew her father was not a stupid man. He could have come in here and subtly looked around for the diary. Sure, he would have been in a burry after kicking the door down, but leaving drawers and cabinets open…making a mess in a few places…that was just sloppy.
And Chloe couldn’t help but wonder if he had done it on purpose. Was he trying to send her a message?
And if so, what was it?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Chloe waited another hour before she headed back out. Night had completely fallen and she had managed to get her apartment in at least some semblance of order following the break-in. When she stepped back out into the parking lot at 8:21, she took a calming breath of the night air as she got into her car.
She could feel the structure of her personal life crumbling around her. It had been a foundation that had been fairly sturdy for most of her adult life. But then her father had come back into the picture. When Danielle had become a part of her life again, the structure had wobbled a bit. But now that her father was back, the foundation was rotting out. And for the first time in her life, she was starting to understand that he was indeed the cause of it…that he was nothing but trouble, as Danielle had been trying to tell her for the last several months.
Back in her car, Chloe started the engine. Before pulling out into traffic, though, she pulled her Glock from its holster. She studied it for a moment and strongly considered taking it back inside. She stared at it for a moment and shook her head, returning it to her side holster.
She could be smart. She could be sensible and professional.
Repeating those two things in her head, Chloe pulled out of the parking lot and once again headed in the direction of her father’s townhouse.
***
Chloe was able to find a parking spot three spaces down from her father’s door. She sat in her car for a while, looking in that direction. The same light she had seen on last night was shining again. As she was driving by, she thought she’d also seen the flickering light of a television set against the walls.
She knew what she wanted to do but it made her feel immature. And she knew if Director Johnson found out about it, she’d get a stern lecture.
So I guess I’d better be careful, she thought to herself.
She got out of the car, making sure her jacket was covering her side holster. She looked around the lot and the small expanse of lawn that sat in front of the row of townhouses. There were twelve in all, with a large parking lot breaking up the lawn before another two took over on the other side. Chloe did a quick check of the area and saw that the lawn and sidewalk in front of her father’s row was empty. Three teens sat on small porch on the other side of the parking lot, but they were too enamored with something on a phone, the screen glowing bright into their faces, to even notice that Chloe was there.
She walked as casually as she could to the end of the sidewalk in front of her, walking to the right so it would take her directly in front of her father’s apartment. As she passed she once again glanced through the window but saw only the light still on and the TV glowing from the left side of the window frame.
She passed by and came to the end of the row of townhouses. She then quickly darted to the left, hiding behind the last of the townhouses. There was another stretch of lawn here, mostly taken up by a strip of air conditioning units. Beyond those, there was a small row of city recycling bins. The reach of the streetlights diminished along this side before giving up completely, leaving the last few recycling bins hidden in utter darkness.
Chloe looked around the corner when she came to the end of the building. She, like the last few bins, was perfectly concealed by the darkness. She found herself looking at the back stoops of each of the townhouses she had just walked by. They were all identical: a small porch with a short set of stairs down to a small shared yard. The yard was bordered by a badly managed flower garden and a few towering trees, used simply to block the sight of another identical set of townhouses on the other side.
Along the back side of the complex, two back porch lights were on. But from what Chloe could see, there was no one out and about. She counted down four porches from where she stood, singling out her father’s back porch. She wanted to keep some degree of stealth about her, but at the same time, she wasn’t too worried about someone else living in the complex spotting her as she snuck throu
gh the darkness to her father’s back door.
Still, there was some speed to her step as she walked across the grass. She kept close to the porches, making it harder for anyone who might be looking out to see her. She couldn’t help but feel a little foolish, trying to sneak up on someone who would probably be happy to see her.
Well, he might have been happy to see me three hours ago, she thought. But being that he broke into my apartment, it’s probably a different story now.
She made it to her father’s back porch—the fifth one down—without being spotted. She didn’t even give herself time to change her mind; she quietly walked up the back porch steps and approached the door.
She was a little surprised at how well the vantage point of the window in the back door worked out for her. The kitchen was off to the right. The door was situated directly against the left wall, giving a straight view of the small hallway that connected the kitchen to the rest of the townhouse. Because the lower floor was so small, she was able to see the single opened space just beyond the kitchen. There was no wall or bar area to separate the two; it was an open floor plan, giving her a clear view into the living room.
Her father was sitting in a recliner, watching television. The sight of him sent a spike of hatred and fear through her. The fear made her feel powerless, but she understood it. This was not only her father, but a man who had somehow had her thinking he had been something of a victim for his entire life. He had lied to her, fooled her…and here he was, after having broken into her apartment, sitting in his recliner and watching TV as if there was nothing amiss.
You don’t know for sure he broke into your apartment.
Sure, it was a possibility. But given what she did for a living, it was not hard to come to the conclusion that it had been him who broke into her place. Who the hell else would break into her apartment and steal nothing more than some old diary penned by her mother? She was not at all surprised to see that he was not reading it. Hell…he’d probably burned it or otherwise destroyed it just to get rid of the written evidence of the type of monster he was.
She stood there and peered into the townhouse, watching her father. He sat still in the recliner, moving only to sip from a can of beer that was resting in the fork of his legs. He did not look antsy or anxious in any way. The act of breaking, entering, and petty theft apparently did not bother him all that much.
She wasn’t sure how long she stood there. It was mesmerizing to watch this figure from her past, now frozen in the present with no clear direction or purpose. It was hard to look away from him. Seeing him in such a natural way made him look nothing like a monster, but instead like a miserable old man who had nothing left to live for.
She would likely have stood there much longer, trying to process it all if she could.
But then her phone rang in her pocket.
The noise of it alarmed her so badly that she took a huge lumbering step away from the door. She reached into her pocket to silence it and as she did, she just barely caught sight of her father sitting up in his chair and looking to the back door. She was quite certain he had not seen her, but he was getting up, clearly having heard the strange noise on his back porch.
“Shit,” Chloe breathed as she leaped down the small flight of stairs. She then bolted to the right, in the direction of the darkened corner and the shrouded recycle bins. Just as she reached the corner, sprinting as hard yet as quietly as she could, she heard the muffled sound of a door opening.
She slid around the corner and waited. She focused as hard as she could, listening for the sound of footsteps. When she heard nothing, she chanced a glance around the edge of the building. Her father was there, his back to her as he slightly leaned over the porch railing to investigate.
Not wanting to tempt fate any farther, Chloe slowly walked back toward the parking lot. She passed the recycle bins and the air conditioning units, stepping back into the glow of the streetlights in the parking lot. She got into her car and sat still for a moment, looking toward the townhouse. A million thoughts rolled through her mind as she tried to think of the best course of action to take from here.
She took out her phone and looked to see who had called while she had been snooping. She wasn’t surprised to see that it had been Rhodes. She nearly called her back but before she did so, one last thought occurred to her. It might be risky and a bit unprofessional, but it made a great deal of sense in that moment.
She placed a call to the local PD, using the same number that had come across her display earlier in the day when Officer Henley had called to tell her that someone had broken into her apartment. When the phone was answered on the other end, it was not Henley but a receptionist. When she asked for Henley, she was placed on hold and then transferred to Henley’s cell phone.
“This is Henley,” the officer said on the other end.
“Officer Henley, this is Agent Fine. You told me to call if you could be of any further help.”
“Of course,” Henley said, sounding surprised. “What do you need?”
“Well, first of all, I need to ask that what I am about to ask of you stays between us. I don’t expect you to break any rules or go against any of your captain’s orders, but if you could keep it quiet and just between us, that would be best.”
“Um…well, I’d like to, but that sounds suspicious. I really don’t feel like getting involved in anything that’s going to piss my captain off.”
“No, it’s nothing like that. Look…I have a suspicion about who it might have been that broke into my place. But I don’t have nearly enough evidence or enough probable cause to take it to my section director. I just need you to sort of keep an eye on someone. Drive by every now and then, keep an ear out for anything that comes over the wires, that sort of thing.”
“Oh. Well, yeah, I guess I could do that. What’s the name?”
“Aiden Fine.” She also gave Henley the address.
“Got it. Is it a relative or something?”
“Yeah…or something.”
“I’ll do my best to keep tabs on him. You doing good since the break-in? Did the guys ever come by to dust for prints?”
“Yeah. Thanks again for your help.”
Chloe ended the call and once again looked back to her father’s place. Without taking her eyes away from it, she placed a call to Rhodes. Rhodes answered right away, sounding a little tired and frustrated.
“Hey, Fine. Everything good? You left in a hurry.”
“Yeah. Just…some strained personal stuff.”
There was a tense silence where Chloe could all but hear Rhodes thinking—trying to decide if she should ask what sort of stuff or just keep it professional. In the end, she decided on professionalism.
“Well, I just wanted to give you an update. Rachel Dobbs left the station about an hour and a half ago. I wrapped up a bit of paperwork with Deputy Nolan and am currently headed home.”
“What did you learn about that woman Rachel mentioned right before I left?”
“Gwen Ingram. And I learned plenty…enough to know for a fact that we’ll be visiting her first thing tomorrow.”
It was refreshing to know that they at least had a solid place to start the case tomorrow. But as she sat there in front of her father’s townhouse, Chloe wasn’t too sure she’d be able to give the case her full attention.
It made her all the more certain that her life would never truly be fully her own until she brought this sordid chapter with her father to a close.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Danielle was hungry but could not eat. Her stomach was in knots. Her nerves were fried. She’d attempted to eat microwaved chicken nuggets but had stopped at two. The rest of them sat on a plate on her coffee table directly beside the item that was causing her severe anxiety.
Her mother’s diary.
Honestly, it wasn’t the diary itself that had her feeling somewhat sick. It was what she had done earlier in the day to get the diary. She had nearly changed her mind twice on the way over
to Chloe’s place. She had done some seedy and deplorable things in the past, but nothing quite this deliberate. She hated the idea that she had, for all intents and purposes, stolen from Chloe.
More than that, she had left her apartment a mess. But that had been part of it. She wanted it to seem like whoever had been there had been in a hurry. She figured leaving a mess would make it seem more urgent…more like their father.
Another reason Danielle was unable to eat much of anything was because of the notes she had found in the back of the diary. They were written on a plain piece of printer paper, folded neatly and tucked between the last page and the back cover. The paper was filled with Chloe’s thin, small handwriting.
It seemed that Chloe had been doing some freelance detective work for herself, going through the diary and putting some of the pieces together. And based on what she had uncovered so far, Danielle didn’t blame her for being quiet and reserved when she had paid a visit the other day.
Chloe had gone through and found entries in the diary and then done her best to align them with times from their childhood where their mother had been sick or out of sorts. There were two listings on Chloe’s little note sheet that seemed to reach out and smack Danielle directly in the face.
Entry, p.11: Mom says dad hit her in the head with a beer bottle when she told him he needed to stop drinking. It was summer…just before me and D went back to school. This lines up with mom telling us that she had fallen down the front porch stoop when trying to bring in groceries. RE; the bruising over her eyes for a few weeks.
Entry, p. 35: Mom says dad got rough with her in bed. Slapped her around, got really violent. She asked him to stop and he punched her in the stomach. Essentially raped her. Vaginally and anally. She bled most of the night. This lines up with the day D discovered bloody sheets when doing laundry. When she asked, Dad told her to shut up and do her chores like a good girl (I remember this!). It was also during that time that mom said she had severe migraines and stayed in her room with the blinds drawn for a few days.