by Barb Han
“Why couldn’t they afford it? Your sister lives in a nice-enough house,” Daniel said.
“Her husband thought it was a waste of money. He put all his money in that house, cars and country club membership. As for Andy, he couldn’t afford it anymore plain and simple now that he maintained a separate home.” Clara had been here dozens of times to pick up Ashlyn over the years and knew the layout well.
Walking down the corridor, her heals clicking against the polished marble floors, she’d never felt so out of place.
She took in a breath to fortify her nerves and stalked inside the office.
“Is Headmaster Rutledge in her office?” she asked the receptionist, Mabel Warrington.
Mabel stood, her gaze lingering on the man standing behind Clara.
“I’ll see if she’s back from cafeteria duty.” It was the standard line given to anyone who didn’t have an appointment.
The receptionist disappeared down a hallway behind a closed and normally locked door.
A few minutes later, Headmaster Rutledge appeared. The tall woman in her early forties stood with her hands clasped. “May I help you, Miss [last name]?”
“Is there any chance we can speak to Makayla?” Clara asked.
Rutledge’s body language—zipped up expression and furrowed brow—gave Clara the answer.
Daniel stepped forward and extended his hand. “My name is Special Agent Freelander. We seem to have caught you off guard which tells me someone on my end dropped the ball. I apologize if my S.O. didn’t clear the conversation with you first. But I have a couple of follow-up questions in regards to the disappearance of Ashlyn Reed. Is now a good time to speak to Ms. DeSanchos or should I have the office of the FBI phone ahead and make an appointment?”
“We’re so sorry about Ashlyn. Of course, we want to do everything possible to help find her.” The headmaster took the offering and a twinge of jealousy nipped at Clara when the two made contact. She shoved the unproductive thought aside. It’s just that it had been a long time since she’d felt safe with anyone. Daniel Damon had a quality about him that told her in no uncertain terms that nothing would happen to her on his watch. Clara was a strong, independent woman but it was nice to have someone else have her back for a change, someone capable of dispatching any and every threat imaginable. He was dark, dangerous and had a past. An annoying voice reminded her that he was sexy too, and the kiss they’d shared was still causing aftershocks of electricity and heat to course through her.
He was also Clara’s best hope at finding Ashlyn.
“Wait right here.” The headmaster motioned toward a pair of nestled leather sofas. The soft lighting gave the aura of an intimate conversation space. The area felt more like a living room than a school lobby.
Clara flashed eyes at Daniel. He placed his hand on the small of her back and walked with her to the waiting area.
She ignored the frissons of heat the contact caused. And when his fingers flexed she wondered if she was having the same effect on him. Gasoline poured
on a blaze would be the best way to describe the out-of-control forest fire they’d set if it went further than this.
Mrs. Rutledge wasn’t headmaster without reason. She was well-spoken and well-educated. The woman was sharp and an emotion passed behind her eyes at the mention of Ashlyn that sent a warning flair.
As the headmaster disappeared down the hallway, Clara repeated a silent prayer that the woman wasn’t slipping into her office in order to double check their story with the FBI.
Makayla stalked into the waiting area, a look of surprise lighting her eyes when she saw Clara, and then confusion when her gaze landed on Daniel.
Clara stood and embraced the teen before motioning for her to sit down. Makayla perched on the armchair rather than join Clara on the couch and then her shoulders slumped forward.
From somewhere down the hall, Daniel heard the faint beating of a drum.
The teen had long brown hair pulled to the side in a ponytail. She had big brown eyes and a make-up free face. Her white oxford and navy blazer over a plaid skirt made her look the part of a prep school kid. She slumped forward as Clara took the girl’s hands in hers. Her face was sullen.
“I can’t believe this year has already started without her.” Makayla hiccupped and a tear broke loose, streaming down her cheek. She glanced at Daniel. “Who’s he?”
Daniel had noticed how in-the-moment kids were with Ruthie but was reminded of it now as he watched Makayla. One minute his daughter could be crying and miserable and then something would happen to distract her and not two minutes later she was laughing and having the time of her life. Nothing seemed to stick and he figured that was the reason kids slept so well at night.
Living for the right-now also made for a lot of bad decisions when they didn’t evaluate the consequences of their actions. But then just-like-that the moment would be over and life would move on.
The drum thumped louder.
“This is Daniel. He’s a friend of mine.” Clara’s voice was smooth and soothing. It seemed to have the desired effect on Makayla and he figured there was a purpose to her approach. The shrink was probably good at her job. Hell, she’d gotten more out of Daniel than he’d said to anyone in two years, longer than that when he really thought about it. He didn’t want to evaluate just how far back that would go.
Daniel nodded and Makayla’s gaze dropped to the carpet.
“Did she come home?” Makayla asked, glancing around like Ashlyn would jump out and yell, “Surprise!”
Daniel was quick to notice her word choice. Not, “Did they find her?”
Interesting.
Clara shook her head.
“Oh. I just thought that’s why you were here.” Makayla seemed to think what was on everyone’s mind. That Ashlyn had run away and would turn up when she was good and ready. Daniel hoped that was true but his gut said it was too hopeful.
“No. I’m sorry.” Now it was Clara’s turn to slump like a deflated balloon. “Daniel wanted to ask a few questions about the trip.”
“I already told the policeman everything I knew. It feels like it was so long ago even though it was only two weeks,” Makayla admitted on a dramatic sigh.
“Why did you tell the police you thought Ashlyn ran away?” Daniel made sure to say her name in order to remind Makayla that her friend was still a real person.
“She kept talking about how nice it was in Jamaica. The people. The weather. The beach. Her mom and Timothy had been arguing even more than usual,” Makayla said. “Timothy would have a couple of drinks after work and then pick a fight with Ashlyn.”
Clara tensed so slightly that it was almost imperceptible. Daniel noticed.
“Did they fight about anything in particular?” he asked.
“Yeah. Her. Mrs. Re—” Makayla flashed her eyes at Clara. “Sorry…Mrs. Durango wanted to keep Ashlyn at Brighton but he thought it was a waste of money. Her dad was freaking out over still having to pay child support even though he paid for, like, everything for Ashlyn because her mom wouldn’t work,” Makayla said.
“Did Ashlyn talk about a specific plan?” Kids blew off steam all the time.
Makayla fidgeted in her seat. “Not really. Nothing that I can remember specifically. She said college couldn’t get here soon enough and she couldn’t believe we had six years of school left.”
Six years seemed like it had gone by in a flash when it came to Ruthie. Thinking about his daughter, being inside this school fisted his heart.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
“She was always talking about getting out of Frisco. That she couldn’t stand it there and couldn’t believe her mom was sending her to public school. Mr. Durango has plenty of money. It made no sense why they would do that to her. I mean all her friends are here. Her life is here.” The words were spoken dramatically, like a child who had no idea of the complexities of adult life.
“Tell me about Ashlyn’s social media accounts,” he redirected.
“Her mom kept hers on lockdown.” Makayla rolled her eyes. “Mr. Durango installed an app to track like every site she clicked on and everywhere she went. I swear he would’ve followed her to school just to find something to pick on her about. This one time at the end of last year he, like, busted her going to Stonebriar Mall when she was supposed to be home doing homework.” Her cheeks turned red so he figured Ashlyn was with Makayla.
“Mrs. Durango said the two of you got into a fight at the resort,” Clara said.
“Yeah. Well, it was a lot more than once. I told my parents that I didn’t want her to come in the first place. They shouldn’t try to make us be friends. I mean, like, I love her but she’d become a real deadbeat.” Makayla seemed to catch herself. She glanced at Clara apologetically. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s just that if they’d listened to me she’d be home right now and not causing all this stress…” Another glance. “I mean, I’m actually starting to get really worried about her. Like maybe she didn’t do this on purpose.”
Clara gulped in a breath.
“Did you have a big fight the night before Ashlyn disappeared?” Daniel planted the seed that no one—at least no one in this room—believed Ashlyn had run away.
“Yeah. Epic. I found out that she was hanging around with Alicia Winter behind my back.” Her words had the disgust of what he figured was a typical of a thirteen-year-old.
“I thought you and Ashlyn and Alicia were The Three Musketeers,” Clara interjected.
“We were until I found out Alicia was flirting with Blaise behind my back.” She glanced around like he might have walked up behind her and she’d be mortified if he had.
“Is Blaise your boyfriend?” Daniel lowered his pitch.
“No, but that’s not the point.” She seemed equal parts mortified and angered by the betrayal.
Daniel held back the first real laugh he’d felt trying to roll up and out in more years than he cared to count because of her reaction. He figured his chest might crack if he actually gave in to the urge. At least one code of honor among friends was standing the test of time—no one messed with someone another friend had a crush on. It was an odd comfort to realize that some things never changed.
Clara looked at him like she was trying to read what he was thinking.
“Look, I’m sorry I can’t help you. I mean, I knew she was sneaking out at night. You know, I think she was just starting to crack under all the pressure from her folks,” she said.
“So, you’re maintaining that she’s doing this on purpose to get attention?” Daniel’s brow went up.
“Escape it is more like it,” she said. “The more she tried to do stuff on her own the more her parents tried to crack down. She needed space from them. I just hope she’s okay.” She glanced at her backpack. “I mean we’ve never gone this long after a fight without talking.”
Daniel saw no need to point out the obvious. If Ashlyn had her cell she would’ve been found by now. There was a possibility that the phone had been lost or was straight up out of battery life. The realistic side of him pointed out that it had most likely been taken away from her and destroyed.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Was there anything else odd about her behavior? Anything else that stands out about her friends? Any recent changes that you can recall?” Daniel asked. He was digging around for any tidbit that could change the course of this investigation.
“We didn’t hang out at all on the beach and that was just weird.” She flashed eyes at Clara. “I mean, I regretted asking her to go along. My mom forced me to. It’s just we thought it would help her snap out of it. You know, she had so much drama and we thought relaxing on the beach would do her good. But she hardly went outside. She didn’t hang out with me. My brother saw her in the lobby hanging out.” She screwed up her face. “She acted so weird when he tried to talk to her.”
Makayla glanced at the clock on the wall and then popped to her feet. “I gotta go. Mr. Parsons is giving a test next period. I need all the time I can get to finish his History tests.”
“Okay. Thanks for your help today.” Clara had recovered her psych voice again. Most people probably wouldn’t notice the slight shift. There was an extra air of warmth that Daniel recognized as forced.
The bell rang and kids filled the halls. Horns and percussion instruments echoed into the lobby area. Being inside a school with so many kids taking their lives for granted every day struck a nerve.
Daniel burst to his feet as adrenaline thumped through him. The thought of life going on no matter what happened to a kid nailed him square in the chest, searing him like a hot poker. A burst of anger shot through him, pushing him toward the door. Rage heated his veins and suddenly he couldn’t breathe.
“What’s wrong with him?” Makayla asked in the background.
“I don’t know.” Clara’s answer came at about the same time he burst through the exit door.
Daniel ignored Clara’s calls to him. A force inside him pushed him forward as he stalked out of the parking lot away from the pickup truck and as far away from the school as he could manage.
Rage fueled each step and a loud banging noise filled his head. Pain pierced him with every inch of forward progress.
Somewhere in the distance he heard the faint cry of a woman but he couldn’t tell if this was a memory or if it was real, if it was today, if it was Clara. Daniel slammed the butt of his hands into his eye sockets, trying to jar loose the image of body parts scattered around the dirt. The hot day. The village. The children.
His thoughts swerved to Ruthie, to his sweet little girl.
And then an ache between his temples pounded louder and stronger until it was a steady drumbeat inside his head, so loud he thought his ears might burst.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Blood whooshed and the drums tattooed out a steady beat against the inside of his skull.
“You have a curse. A strong curse…”
Chapter 11
“Daniel.” Clara’s voice cut through the loud banging noise inside Daniel’s head. His pulse drummed in his ears and his eyeballs hurt.
“I’m fine. Go away,” he managed to bite out but it hurt like hell to open his mouth. He was crouched down, his hands over his ears trying to block out the constant drum beat. Sweat beaded on his forehead and the backs of his eyes felt like someone had clawed at them.
“I’m just going to stay here by the fence.” Clara’s voice tethered him to reality, to the world around him instead of the one trapping him inside his thoughts.
He could feel her presence beside him as she bent down and put a hand on his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut. Opening them felt like shards of glass stabbing his eyes.
“Go. Away.” Anger roared through Daniel.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The never-ending rhythm off in the distance sent a ball of fire coursing through his veins.
“I’m here, Daniel.” Clara’s voice was quiet and reassuring. The last part ripped through him like a hurricane. He didn’t want anyone to be a comfort to him. It reeked of weakness and everything that disgusted him about himself. “We don’t have to talk. You don’t have to say anything. But I’m here and I’m not leaving.”
What felt like hours but was probably minutes passed. There they were. The two of them. In the quiet eye encircled by a raging storm.
Daniel couldn’t be sure how long they stayed there. When some of his anger ebbed, he said in a husky whisper, “She’ll never know what it’s like to go to her first day of middle school. High school. Prom. That was taken from her when her life was cut short.”
“Whose life, Daniel?” Using the tips of her finger, Clara made small circles on his shoulder.
“My daughter.”
Clara’s heart nearly burst at the pain she saw in Daniel as he spoke those two words. She’d had a ringside seat to people’s suffering and it
always had an effect on her. This knocked the wind out of her because she read the underlying message. Daniel’s daughter—a very young girl—was gone.
“I’m so sorry,” she managed to say through blinding tears.
So many pieces clicked together in that moment.
The reason Jaden Orchard believed that Daniel would be the best man to find Ashlyn. Why Daniel’s eyes were constantly-brewing storms. Why he had a day-old scruff on his face and stress ridges in his forehead. Why he always looked like he was simmering, about to burst from anger.
Orchard had offered a chance to save a child when Daniel couldn’t save his own.
Clara cursed.
“I’m so sorry, Daniel. I had no idea. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to help me. I never would’ve asked that of you had I known your circumstances.” She made a move to stand but he spun around and caught her by the wrist.
In the next second, they were standing toe-to-toe.
Heat ricocheting between them centered where they made skin-to-skin contact. His grip around her wrist was secure. She didn’t once doubt that he’d release her if she made a move. It felt more like he was holding onto her than trapping her. Like he needed that physical contact to connect with the world of the living after cutting himself off from it for far too long. Like he needed to prove to himself that he was still alive.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That’s so unfair.”
The next thing she knew he pulled her into an embrace. Her hands came up to his chest, palms flat against a solid wall of silk-over-steel. She smoothed her fingers along the ridges, memorizing his body.
His hands dropped, circling her waist.
She looped hers around his neck, pushed up on her tiptoes and pressed her body flush with his. The kiss they’d shared yesterday had invaded her thoughts far too many times and her body hummed with need with him standing this close.
His hands trailed up her back, pausing at the base of her neck in order to tilt her head toward his.
