by Laurèn Lee
Penny walked into the Crimson Chronicle office to see Jayson typing madly away at his computer. He didn’t even flinch when she sat down beside him.
“What?” he asked, his eyes focused on the keyboard as the sounds of his fingers tapping the keys filled the empty room.
“Why have you been calling Sandy Golden?” Penny asked.
That was cause enough for Jayson to stop what he was doing. He slowly turned his head. Jayson’s eyes appeared nearly as bloodshot as Sandy’s. Penny jumped and slid her chair back a few inches.
“Whoa. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. And how did you hear that I was calling her?” He narrowed his eyes.
“She told me,” Penny said, trailing off. “Why are you bothering her? You know Peter said we had to back off.”
“You shouldn’t get involved in people’s business,” Jayson said with lowered eyes.
“Dude? What is up with you lately?” Penny asked, taken aback.
“Nothing.”
Penny wrinkled her nose and looked around the office. The distinct scent of body odor and onions lingered in the air. “What’s that smell?”
Jayson returned his gaze to his computer screen, where he’d begun the draft article for the talent show. Penny carefully watched the man next to her. Jayson had first told her he loved her behind the bleachers after homecoming. She couldn’t believe her ears when he’d said it and couldn’t believe that she’d said it back. Once she’d returned the favor, he’d smashed his lips against hers in a drunken stupor.
Penny pressed her fingers to her lips, almost as if she could remember Jayson’s touch from all those years ago. But, as with life and love, not everything was meant to last. So many of their friends had thought they’d make it; they’d cross the finish line together old and gray. But they didn’t. Except, a handful of years later, they’d found each other again, even though Jayson was already claimed. Now, Penny knew deep in her heart; it was time to end it again.
“Jayson, can we talk?”
Without looking up, he said, “About what?”
Penny glanced around the office; no one else was there. Not even Peter.
“About us?”
This caught Jayson’s attention, and he turned to face her. “What about us?”
Again, Penny glanced around despite the office’s lack of noise and the absence of everyone else. “Maybe we can go somewhere else?”
Jayson scoffed. “No one is here. Just say it. I already know what you’re going to say, anyway.”
“You do?” Penny chewed the inside of her cheek until she tasted the metallic, warm liquid.
“Yeah, but go ahead,” Jayson said and rolled his eyes.
Penny rarely saw this side of Jayson. The fun-loving man who always found the silver lining had vanished. Something was going on with him, but she didn’t know what.
“I think we have to stop seeing each other. You know, romantically.”
Jayson snorted. “Fine.”
Penny stood from the chair and paced around the office. The wind whipped outside and even darker clouds loomed in the distance.
“Fine? That’s all you have to say?”
Jayson turned in his seat to face her, his back to the computer. “What do you want me to say, Penny? You want me to beg you to stay with me?”
“Well, no,” she said and paused. “It just seems like you don’t care either way.”
Jayson put his head in his hands and talked through his fingers. “It’s over, okay? I get it. Just business from now on.”
Penny hadn’t expected this reaction. She thought Jayson would beg, or at least, not give up so easily. She knew he loved his wife, but if history had proven anything, he also still loved her. And she never really knew, inside her heart, if she actually loved him back. Sometimes, we chose what was safe, what was easy, and hold on that for as long as we could.
“Okay, well, thanks for understanding,” Penny said slowly.
Jayson spun back to face his computer and grunted. Penny, on the other hand, couldn’t explain the pulsing pit in her stomach and why she felt like something was terribly wrong. Would she figure it out in time? Or would life surprise her yet again?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Thursday, October 10, 2019
Ominous clouds rolled in for most of the afternoon, blocking out the sun from the sky. Scattered showers pelted Crimson Falls on and off all day, too. Despite the less-than-ideal forecast, though, the Goldens wouldn’t put off their plans for a nighttime vigil for their missing girl. Harper still hadn’t been found, nor had there been any new leads. Pressure mounted on the police department for some kind of answer, for an explanation, but none came. It was almost as if Harper had vanished into thin air. Gone without a trace.
“Are you sure you don’t mind staying a little longer?” Penny asked her mother’s nurse.
“Not at all, dear. Please send my prayers and well wishes when you go,” she said.
Penny nodded, kissed her mother’s forehead, and headed out of the house. She sported houndstooth rain boots, a black hoodie, and a jean jacket over the top. Raindrops stung her forehead as she sprinted from the front door to her car. She drove in silence toward the high school where the Goldens planned to have the vigil.
Before she’d left home, Penny charged her phone to one hundred percent. Since Sandy said she could cover the event, she wanted to make sure her phone had as much juice as possible. She still hadn’t broached the subject with Peter, but again, she thought if the Goldens approved it, Peter wouldn’t have any excuse not to print it in the next edition.
Penny’s jaw dropped as she pulled into the school’s parking lot and noticed almost every space was filled.
Holy cow, she thought.
She had no idea what to expect and how many people would turn up to support the Goldens. Turned out, the entire city wanted to lend their thoughts and prayers.
Penny circled the lot several times and finally parked on the grass beside the dumpster. It wasn’t technically a spot, but every other one was taken. She grabbed for her umbrella on the passenger seat and headed outside into the slow but steady showers of the evening.
She strode across the lot toward the front doors of the school where hundreds and hundreds of Crimsonians stood, some with umbrellas, and others soaked to the bone. With one hand holding the umbrella, she reached her other hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She opened her camera app and snapped a few photos of the scene. She took some landscapes and some portraits. Once satisfied with her shots, Penny stepped over a few puddles and joined the mass of people huddled around the Goldens as they stood on a slightly raised platform. Sandy’s eyes hadn’t lost the red tint. Mr. Golden stared straight ahead with no emotion whatsoever. He looked frozen in time, immobile, vacant.
Behind them, an easel held an almost life-sized picture of Harper on the swings, her red hair glowing in the twilight of what appeared to be a summer evening. A few of the news crews from nearby cities recorded the grieving parents as they held each other’s hands. Penny snapped a few more photos and turned to see which of the townspeople around her would provide her with a usable quote or two for her story.
One of her mother’s friends, Wendy, wept on her husband’s shoulder, both under an umbrella. Penny excused herself and maneuvered toward Wendy with her phone in her hand, ready to push record.
“Hi, Wendy,” Penny said.
Wendy turned her head and revealed streams of mascara dribbling down her cheeks, which were overly done with a rosy blush.
“Penny, so good to see you. How’s your mother?”
“The same,” Penny replied with a fake smile. It was easier to fabricate positivity than to admit her mother’s health grew slightly worse with each passing day.
“Please tell her I said hello.”
Penny sensed the electricity in the air and thought the Goldens would begin the vigil at any moment. She needed a quote from Wendy before it started, and she didn’t want to miss any
thing Sandy or her bereaved husband would say to all those in attendance.
“Wendy, would you mind if I got a quote from you about Harper’s disappearance?”
Wendy’s eyes, immersed in blue eyeshadow, expanded and a slight smile crossed her lips. “Oh! For the paper?”
Penny nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Wendy cleared her throat, which was Penny’s cue to press record.
The rain overhead slowed down to a misting, but thunder rumbled in the near distance. The storm wasn’t over yet, in fact, it may have just begun.
“It’s a terrible ordeal!” Wendy exclaimed.
Her husband nodded emphatically. “Terrible!”
“We hope poor Harper comes home soon and whoever had a hand in her disappearance is brought to a swift and fair justice!”
Penny smiled and gave the thumbs up. It was a generic quote, but it’d have to do. Although, what else was there to say, really, about a missing girl? Everyone hoped she’d come home safely and the man, or woman, who took her was severely punished.
Mr. Golden tapped on the microphone while Sandy quickly blew her nose. Despite the rain, one could still see the tears streaming down the woman’s face. Penny wondered how she held herself together, how she could come out in public during all of this.
“Thank you, everyone,” Mr. Golden said.
Penny hit record again, hoping her phone would pick up the audio as best it could. She would need a decent sound file to transcribe it for her story later.
“We appreciate you all coming out tonight to support our family as we, again, plead for the safe return of our daughter, Harper Golden.”
With a piercing stare, Mr. Golden looked straight into the news camera before him. “We ask that whoever took our daughter bring her home unharmed. We love her so very much, and all we want is to hold her again in our arms.”
Beside Penny, Wendy pulled out a handkerchief and wept into the red cloth. Her husband rubbed her back, and it didn’t take long for the other women in the vicinity to be reduced to shaking sobs, too.
“Harper is the light of our lives and the best thing that ever happened to us. Please bring her home!”
Then Sandy reached for the microphone and pulled it toward her quivering lips. “We will provide a thirty-thousand-dollar reward for anyone who can provide any information which leads to the recovery of our daughter. Please! We want our baby girl back!”
As if Mother Nature knew what was to happen next, the misting drops falling from the gray clouds stopped. It was as if the heavens wanted the vigil to carry on without any more gloom and sadness. Sandy’s sister, who’d flown in from California, brushed aside her strawberry-blonde hair, the same as Harper’s. She carried an oversized fabric tote on her shoulder and handed out single candlesticks, urging those in attendance to pass them along to their neighbors. Soon enough, every person in the audience held a white candle. Many people pulled out their lighters and ignited their sticks. They kissed their flames to the virgin wicks all around them until, now, not everyone just held a candle, but a lit one, too.
Artfully, Penny snapped a photo of her own lit candle using the Portrait mode on her iPhone. It would make an excellent addition to the story. Maybe she’d convince Peter to let her publish it above the fold again. Subtle orchestra music crooned from the few speakers set around the scene, and everyone linked arms, candles in hand.
Penny’s breath caught in her throat while she absorbed it all. Even though Crimson Falls carried unimaginably bad luck within its borders, it never stopped the townspeople from coming together in moments of despair.
Out of the corner of her eye, Penny noticed Jayson and Peter storming away from the vigil. They strode across the parking lot toward the dumpster, exactly where Penny parked her car. A pang in her gut told her to follow them, and Penny usually tried to listen to her instincts. They were there for a reason, after all. Confident that she’d collected enough information, quotes, and photos for her story, Penny politely excused herself from the crowd and left the vigil behind. She extinguished her candle and tossed it in a nearby trash bin. Then, she opened up her umbrella for cover once more. The pitter-patter of her ex-lover’s and boss’s steps reverberated within the lot. She peeked from underneath her umbrella to see where they’d gone. It didn’t take long for Penny to notice the two men hid behind the dumpster. The only indication of their presence was in the form of their rising voices, piercing her ears.
“I don’t know what you think you saw, but you’re dead wrong,” one of them said.
“I saw what I saw!” the other quipped back, anger in his voice.
“You better watch yourself. Maybe you’re just trying to cover for yourself, huh? Maybe you’re the one hiding something!”
Penny’s stomach sank. What the hell was going on? Who was hiding what? She quickly pulled out her phone and snapped a few more pictures, only this time, they weren’t of people mourning, but of those arguing instead.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Thursday, October 10, 2019
A vague sense of hope pulsed inside Harper’s heart. The man holding her hostage seemed to believe she was Heather, whoever that may be, and Harper played perfectly into that mindset. While he still kept her in the basement, he removed the handcuffs from her wrists. She wasn’t shackled to the cold, damp basement wall anymore.
He brought her more food during mealtimes and even a few snacks here and there. Her strength increased, as did her determination to escape. She needed a plan, though. One that wouldn’t fail. The trust she’d worked to build with the man would be tarnished entirely if he caught her trying to escape. Hell, he might even hurt her as punishment.
Nothing in her young life thus far prepared her for such a challenge. English? Nope. Math? No. History? Nada.
But she used all of her energy to think long and hard about what she could do to leave the confines of her concrete cage. She needed a way to get upstairs. Once she made it to a better part of the house, she could further assess her situation and formulate a way to get out. Harper hoped with all of her heart she wasn’t too far away from Crimson Falls. She had absolutely no idea where she was now. For all she knew, she could be next door to her own house. The man had blindfolded her after taking her from the park. He’d driven her around for an incredible amount of time. Taking turns and driving for long stretches. She hadn’t kept up with where he’d taken her and which route he’d chosen.
It didn’t matter, though. If they were still in the heart of Crimson Falls, it wouldn’t be too difficult to find help. If they were outside her hometown, she’d run and run until she found help. Images of her mom and dad burned in her brain. One way or another, she’d find her way home. That was a promise she made to herself and wouldn’t break it for anything.
Thunder rumbled outside, and Harper pulled her knees to her chest. For hours and hours, she thought of a way to convince the man to bring her upstairs. Finally, she had an idea. She hoped it would work. It had to work.
Upstairs, the thumps of footsteps shook the floor. The doorknob of the basement door creaked as it turned. The man hobbled down the steps. The faint glow from the lights upstairs barely illuminated the basement, but it was just enough for Harper to see her own hands.
“Heather, baby. How is daddy’s little girl doing?”
Bile rose in Harper’s throat, but she forced it back down.
“Daddy?” she whined.
“Yes, baby?”
Fried chicken permeated the air as did the faint smell of stale beer. Harper’s stomach turned, and she took a deep breath, hoping to steady herself, to focus.
“Something’s happened. I need your help.”
The man sat beside Harper and pulled her into his lap. Goosebumps shimmied down Harper’s arm. The man’s touch brought the bile back up into her throat.
“What is it? Tell Daddy what’s wrong,” he said soothingly.
“I think I got my womanhood,” Harper said and held her breath.
In health class, t
heir teacher, Mrs. Banes, taught the boys and girls about what would happen when they reached puberty. The boys and girls were divided separately so they could learn about the changes in their own bodies without the giggles from the others. Harper remembered panicking and sheer fright enveloping her body when Mrs. Banes told the girls that soon, they would get their periods and once a month they would need to use sanitary napkins. Harper hoped it would never happen to her. How gross! And yet it seemed like the perfect way for the man to let her upstairs. He wouldn’t let her sit down in the basement in her own filth, would he?
Silence filled the air. Harper’s heart drummed against her chest. Would it work? Would he believe her? Would he help her?
“Hmmm,” he said. “Are you sure?”
Harper’s teeth bit into her lip. “Yes, Daddy. My tummy hurts so much, and I felt the blood.”
More silence.
“Well,” the man said after what felt like an eternity, “We can’t have that, can we? My little baby Heather is a woman!”
Harper exhaled.
“I guess we should get you upstairs and get you cleaned up, huh?”
Harper nodded emphatically. “Please!”
“I’ll have to run to the store and get you some supplies, though,” he said slowly.
The man pulled something out of his pocket and while Harper sat in his lap, he wrapped the object around her eyes: it was his handkerchief.
“You’ve got to promise me, though, Heather. Promise me you won’t run away from Daddy.”
Exhilaration whipped through Harper’s body. Hope tasted that much closer. Freedom was that much closer. “Yes, Daddy. Of course. I want to stay with you forever!”
She added the last part because it always worked when she feigned sick to stay at home with her parents. As soon as she whipped out that phrase, her parents melted into the palms of her hands.
The man pulled her closer to his chest and squeezed her body like a python. “I love you so much, Heather. Let’s get you all cleaned up.”
