The Stolen Breath

by L. G. Davis

  “What did I do?” My chest tightens. “What exactly did I do, Clayton? They think I did something to my own baby?”

  “No,” he says slowly. “They think you murdered Tina.”

  My stomach drops. “What? That’s ridiculous. She committed suicide.”

  “Yes, she did. But you were there, at her apartment.”

  “How do you know that?” I ask in a shaky voice.

  “It was in the papers.” He runs a hand over his head. “About two months ago, someone contacted the police informing them that Tina did not commit suicide and that there was evidence to prove you were with her the night she died. A photo of you was in the papers. Her parents got the case reopened. There’s an ongoing investigation. The fact that you left town not long after Tina’s death also makes you look guilty.”

  “But I couldn’t stay. Everything was too much for me.”

  “I know. But were you really at the crime scene?”

  I count to twenty before responding, and my eyes well up with tears. If I want Clayton to help me, he deserves to know the truth. “Yeah, I was there. I watched her kill herself. But I had nothing to do with it. I tried to stop her.”

  Clayton comes to put a hand on my shoulder and keeps it there without saying anything, without asking any more questions.

  When I’m done crying, he turns me to face him.

  “Why did you come back? What makes you think your baby is in this town?”

  I dig into my pocket and pull out the note. I press it into is hand. “I found this in one of my daughter’s stuffed toys.”

  Clayton stares at it for a long time before handing it back. “You think the person who wrote this note also has your child?”

  “Yes, that’s what I think. It’s probably also the same person who contacted the police to tell them I was with Tina. I can’t go to prison for a crime I did not commit. I need to find my child.” I reach for Clayton’s hand. “Clay, I didn’t know who to turn to. I need help.”

  “I’ll do everything in my power to help you.” He squeezes my hand. “But you have to trust me and do exactly as I say.”

  “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

  “You cannot stay here. I have to take you somewhere else where it’s safe.”

  “But I can’t leave town. My baby is here somewhere with some sadistic person who wants to hurt me for reasons I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t worry, we will find that person. And we will find your baby.” He glances at the flyers again. “She’s beautiful.”

  “She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” I pause. “Clayton, I don’t think I thanked you properly for what you did for me.”

  When I told Clayton about my disease, I had no idea he would get himself tested to see if he was a match. Turns out he was. I only found out a few days after Tina’s funeral when my health had truly started to deteriorate. Clayton had kept his identity a secret until not long before the surgery.

  I also found out later that Tina had lied about being a match. A quick conversation with my doctor had revealed the truth. She had only wanted to torture me.

  “Where is it safe for me?” I ask.

  “I’ll show you.” He stands up and grabs the flyers and my handbag. Then he ushers me out of the house.

  “The first place the police will check is your mother’s house,” he says to me once we’re settled in his car. “I’ll come back to drive your car to my garage.”

  I only nod and stare out the window at the town that used to be my home. It’s too dark outside for me to see much and yet I see everything.

  “Why won’t you tell me where we’re going?”

  “Because you might fight me.”

  “Come on, Clayton. I need to know where you’re taking me.”

  He nods. “I have a boat. I think you’ll be safer there. No one will think to look for you on the water. I know you’re afraid of the ocean, but you have to trust me.”

  I want to refuse to get on a boat because the thought of being on water makes me queasy, but I keep my mouth shut. I don’t want to seem ungrateful. I’m the one who asked for his help.

  I don’t say anything as he drives me to a luxurious white boat that I’m surprised he owns.

  “Thank you for doing this.” It seems I’ll be thanking Clayton for the rest of my life. He’s always the one who jumps in to help me.

  “What are friends for?”

  We don’t speak again until we’re on the boat, when out of nowhere, panic assails me.

  “I can’t stay here. I can’t swim.” I grab my throat and try to breathe.

  “I know. But, Delia, the water is less dangerous than the people out there who want to throw you behind bars for a crime you did not commit.”

  “You believe me?” I ask.

  “Of course, Delia. I know you. You would never hurt a fly.”

  His words strengthen me, and I push my discomfort aside.

  Feeling safe with him next to me, I allow him to take me to one of the cabins. With the windows closed, I pretend I’m not on the water.

  While he gets me a sandwich, I pull out my phone and check to see if there are new emails in my inbox.

  The most recent email drives a dagger into my heart.

  I don’t want to open it, but I do anyway. The subject line cannot be ignored.

  You did it...

  The email is only a few words, but they slam into me so hard I feel as though my breath has been stolen from my chest.

  Clayton appears in the doorway holding a plate and a glass of juice. When he sees I’m trembling, he puts the food on a mahogany chest of drawers and comes to me.

  “What’s going on?” Instead of telling him in words, I point to my phone’s screen.

  “The police were at your house,” he reads out loud. “You killed your own baby.”

  Clayton’s words ring in the air like bullets. The next thing I know, I’m running to the ensuite bathroom to throw up. Clayton follows me and holds my hair back until I’m done. Then he helps me clean my mouth and guides me back into the bedroom.

  Back in the room, he turns me to face him, his hands on my shoulders. “I need to ask you this. Please tell me the truth.” He inhales sharply. “Did you do it?”

  “How could you even ask me that? You said yourself I could never hurt a fly.” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “And I would never ever do anything to my baby.”

  I don’t want to believe that Lea is dead. It can’t be.

  “Okay,” he says. “I’m sorry I asked. I just needed to know.”

  “Now you do.” I switch off my phone and bury my head in my hands, trying hard to stop the tears.

  Chapter 21

  Iblink once, then twice to get rid of the sleep in my eyes. I didn’t sleep a wink last night. I don’t deserve rest, not when my baby is out there. I still refuse to believe she’s lying in a ditch somewhere...dead.

  I searched online for articles about Lea. The ones I found said nothing about her being dead. And yet, my heart is aching the same way it did when Andrew died.

  I continue to stare outside, seeing nothing.

  This is not like me. Being inside a boat should send me into a panic attack, but I’ve now spent hours inside one. Funny how one fear can erase another so quickly. My fear of water has been replaced, for the moment at least, by that of losing Lea forever.

  I want to cry. I’ve felt the tears coming many times, but they don’t spill.

  The sound of a toilet flushing brings me back to life. I rise from the chair and leave the cabin. Talking to anyone is the last thing I want to do, but Clayton has been kind enough to give me a temporary shelter. The least I can do is be polite.

  He’s sitting on a couch in a large living area with windows for walls. When I enter, he looks up from his laptop. “How are you feeling?” he asks, his brow furrowed.

  The simple and harmless question feels like an insult. How should I be feeling? I want to lash out, but I shrug instead. Some feelings c
an’t be put into words.

  “You must be hungry. I made you breakfast.” He moves the laptop to the couch and attempts to get up.

  “No, I’m not hungry.”

  He sits back down. “But you haven’t eaten anything for hours.”

  “I don’t have time to eat. I can’t. I need to go out and put up flyers in town. Maybe someone saw Lea.”

  Clayton comes over and takes the flyers from my hands. I didn’t even realize until now that I had brought them with me from the room.

  “You can’t do that. Everyone is still talking about Tina’s death, and your face is all over the news because of the kidnapping. As soon as you put up those flyers, the police will know you’re in town.”

  I sweep a hand through my tangled hair. “What do you expect me to do? I’ve already wasted enough time sitting around like a zombie while my baby is out there with a monster.”

  “We’ll figure it out together. But we have to protect you first. The person who sent you that creepy note sounds dangerous.”

  Clayton also has doubts that Lea is dead. He suspected the person who sent me the email was trying to hurt me in the cruelest of ways.

  “I don’t care about me right now,” I press my nails into the palms of my hands, searching for pain that could distract me from the agony in my heart. “I need to find my baby, Clayton.”

  Clayton wraps a hand around my forearm. “Sit down for a second.”

  I sigh and let him take me to the couch. He doesn’t sit.

  “There’s something you should know.”

  When he doesn’t speak fast enough, I get back to my feet a little too quickly and have to sit back down to stop the dizziness. “What is it? What do you want to tell me?”

  “The police were circling your mother’s place early this morning.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and shows me a photo of two policemen at the house. One is peering through the kitchen window.

  An ache spreads at the back of my throat. “They already know I’m in town?”

  “It’s a small town. One of your neighbors must have seen you.”

  This is all too complicated, having to hide from the police when I also have to search for my daughter.

  “Where did you get the photo? Were you at my house?”

  “No. I told someone to keep an eye on your place.”

  My heart stutters. “You talked to someone about me?”

  “It’s someone I trust with my life.” He pulls out his phone and shows me a photo of a beautiful woman with almond eyes gazing into the camera. Her curly hair is gathered on top of her head in an intricate updo. A thin veil is attached to the back of her head.

  “You’re married?” My gaze moves from the screen to the hand holding the phone. For the first time I notice the wedding band.

  “Two years.” He switches off the phone and pushes it into the back of his pocket. “We have a daughter, Sue. She’s almost two.” His face lights up when he speaks about his family while a warm teardrop tickles its way down my cheek.

  I should be happy for him, but it hurts too much at this point. He has a family and mine is gone, taken away.

  I swipe at the tears. “Your wife is beautiful.”

  “She’s perfect.” He rubs his forehead. “I’ll tell you all about her once you and your daughter are safe.” He finally sits down next to me. “I want to help you find your daughter, but I also want you to be safe.”

  “Maybe I should go to the police.” I wring my hands in my lap.

  “And tell them what exactly?”

  “That I was there.”

  “Then you’ll apologize for not coming forward seven years ago? You think they’ll let you off that easy? And how about Tina’s parents? They own this town.”

  “I don’t know what else to do. The kidnapper wants me to confess if I ever want to see my daughter again. I’ll just confess that I did it, and then once Lea is safe, I could tell the police that I lied.”

  “Delia, I think that’s a terrible idea.” Clayton leans back. “Also, there’s no guarantee that the kidnapper will keep his or her word. What if your daughter is really—”

  “Dead?” I choke down a sob and press a fist to my lips. Then I grab his hand. “Can I use your phone? I need to know if there’s any truth to the email I received.”

  Clayton had advised me to turn my phone off in case the Sarton police are trying to track me down.

  He reaches for a box on the coffee table. “I got you a disposable phone.”

  He removes a flip phone from the box and hands it to me.

  “I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe you’re doing all this for me.” I stare at the phone in my hand. “How does your wife feel about you helping me out?”

  “She knows I care for you. You’re like a sister to me. It was her idea that I should bring you to the boat. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

  “Me too.”

  “Now, who do you want to call?”

  “My friend, Anita. Maybe she knows something.”

  But what if she doesn’t? And what if the police are using her as bait? I’ll call Ray instead. I owe him a call anyway to let him know that I probably won’t be returning to work any time soon.

  “Goodness, Delia, where the hell are you?” he asks when he hears my voice. “Are you okay? The police are looking for you.”

  “Do you think I did it, Ray? Do you think I’d hurt my own baby?”

  “Of course not, but—never mind. Tell me where you are.”

  “But what? What do you know? Tell me, Ray, please. I need to know.”

  “I’m sorry, Delia. It’s all over the news. They are saying your daughter is dead.”

  I bite back a scream. “No. No.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Ray sounds like he’s crying too. “They think you had something to do with it.”

  “I don’t know why they would think something like that. Someone took my child and they are focusing on the wrong person.” Tears are streaming down my cheeks now and Clayton is holding my hand tight.

  “The police found something in your garden.”

  My breath catches in my throat. “What did they find?”

  “Some of your daughter’s clothes.” He clears his throat. “They have blood on them.”

  The phone drops from my hands onto the floor. Clayton picks it up and gives it back to me, but I shake my head. He ends the call.

  “What did your boss say?” he asks.

  It’s a while before I respond with tears in my eyes. “The police found Lea’s clothes in my garden. They were stained with blood. Do you think my baby is really dead, Clayton?” I start to sob uncontrollably. Now that Ray has also shared the news of my daughter’s death with me, it’s hard for me to ignore it.

  Clayton doesn’t say anything. I can’t blame him for not being able to find the words to assure me that Lea is fine.

  I spend the rest of the day inside my cabin, trying not to feel anything. I’m grateful to Clayton for not forcing me to speak, giving me the time I need to come to terms with the devastating news.

  Instead of spending the night on the boat with me, he goes back to his family, leaving me alone to replay Ray’s words over and over in my head.

  Chapter 22

  Clayton returns to the boat in the morning with croissants and fresh coffee.

  I pick at my croissant in silence.

  Each time I try to say something, I break down, my head against his chest, my tears drenching his checkered shirt. He doesn’t seem to mind.

  Half an hour after eating, the food comes up again and my stomach returns to feeling empty.

  “I’m sorry,” I say to him as shame rises up my throat.

  His shoes are covered in my vomit, but he pats my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.” He takes the shoes off and puts them into a plastic bag before returning to sit with me on the couch. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I wish there was more I could do to help you. You don’t deserve all this.”

  “I feel s
o guilty.” The one thing that kills me inside is the fact that I couldn’t protect my child. She depended on me. I was supposed to be there for her, to watch over her, to prevent the world from hurting her. “I failed.”

  “You cannot blame yourself for that.”

  “Who else is there to blame?” I simmer with anger at myself. “I should not have stayed in the shower for such a long time.”

  “Delia, you can’t beat up on yourself. You have to stay positive even if it’s hard.”

  “Stay positive? What for?”

  He grabs his laptop and flips it open, then places it on my lap. “Sign into your account and show me the email that claims you killed your daughter.”

  As soon as I open up the email, he takes the laptop from me. Normally I wouldn’t let anyone read my emails, but I’m beyond caring at this point. Actually, I can’t find it in me to care about anything at all.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I want to see if I can track the email address down. The person emailing you could be the one behind all this.”

  “But the email address doesn’t make sense. It’s mostly numbers.”

  “Yes, but numbers can tell a story too. Let’s see if I find out anything more.”

  While Clayton taps away, I stare out the window at the ocean, the waves dancing as if trying to put on a show to make me feel better. They fail miserably.

  “All these email addresses are from the same IP address,” Clayton says finally.

  “I suspected as much,” I say warily. “Anything else?”

  “Take a look at this.” Clayton turns the laptop so the screen faces me.

  “What am I looking at?”

  “The IP address information. It’s linked to a server in Florida.”

  “Okay,” I murmur. I know the information he gave me doesn’t have to mean much. On the internet, anyone can be anywhere at any time while still being someplace else.

  Clayton turns the computer back to himself.

  Dread sweeps through me as I lean in to see what he’s looking at on the screen. He moves away.

  “I don’t think you want to see this.” He attempts to close the laptop, but I snatch it from him, adrenaline pumping in my veins.