“All of them. All of them said just that,” I whispered.
“Then why are you there chasing imaginary things?” he asked. “This will only hurt you.”
I wanted to tell him how I hadn’t felt like drowning and numbing myself in pills since I’d been here. That I was doing surprisingly well in social situations… that I’d even met a nice man. But I couldn’t. Not yet.
“It’s for the Beat, Dad. They found the job and sent me here,” I admitted.
There was silence for a minute. “That makes absolutely no sense. I’ve read your articles, and they’re usually about a restaurant opening in a hipster neighborhood, or the history of an art gallery, not aliens in Maine. Why are you really there?”
His astute observation sent a cold rush through my veins, almost as if someone had poured ice water over my head. He was totally right. I’d been so blinded by the fact that the magazine might have been folding that I’d hopped into the story without much thought. Cloud Lake and aliens, right when the Summer Kick-Off was about to happen? But Barns knew nothing about me or my checkered past.
“I don’t know. This has to be a crazy coincidence,” I said.
“Jessica, you…”
“Eva. Call me Eva.”
“That’s not your name! See, look what this place did to you! The reporters were so invasive you had to change your name.” I was using my mother’s maiden name, and he hadn’t spoken to me for a year after I’d made the decision to change it.
“Dad, what do you know about a book called They’re Among Us?” I asked.
His anger dissipated with the question. I could picture him sitting inside his living room, staring at the wall, a cup of cold coffee beside him, and today’s crossword half-done. “How did you find it?”
“You did know about it,” I accused him.
“Yes. I tried to stop it, but the case was public news. They did a limited run only and kept it local. I bought most of them and burned the lot,” Dad said.
“What’s in it?” I asked.
“Just a bunch of nonsense. Oscar claims the Grays took you, not Martin. It was so ridiculous that I knew no one would believe it. Almost no one.” His words were directed at me.
I pulled to the side of the road as heavy rain flooded my windshield, and threw my hazard lights on. I closed my eyes and saw the flashing lights, smelled the musky aroma.
“Jess?” Dad snapped me out of it.
“Yes. I’m here. I’m here,” I repeated, more for my sake than his.
“Don’t read it. It’s garbage. And for what it’s worth, I think you should leave… now.” He was giving me an order: the kind only a father, especially a single father, could give after raising kids alone. He’d always felt like he’d failed me, because for a minute at fourteen, he hadn’t been there at my side. It was crazy, yet still so rational.
“Dad. I love you. You’ve always been there for me, and I couldn’t have asked for a better role model and protector. You were the one I saw when I was released, and you have no idea how many times I wake up, seeing your dirt-streaked face, hearing your voice calling my name. You need to let me do this, and when I’m done with the story, I’ll stop off at your house and spend a few days with you. Maybe we can go fishing.” I started crying halfway through and heard him stifling a sob.
“I just want you to be safe, honey,” Dad said, and I had the sudden feeling that he was going to come to Cloud Lake. That wouldn’t be good for either of us.
“Dad, tell me you won’t come to this place.”
Silence.
“Promise me. I’ll be here until the weekend, then I’ll leave. I’ll be at your place by Sunday at the latest,” I begged.
“I promise. I hope you know how hard this is for me, Jess.” I didn’t bother to correct him on my name. It wasn’t worth it. He’d never look at me as Eva Heart, only as his little Jessica Carver.
“I know.” I wanted to tell him about the campout I was attending tonight, and the Summer Kick-Off, even the fact that I’d seen Grandma’s cabin. That brought an idea. “Dad, who owns Grandma’s cabin?”
There was another pause. “We do.”
“We do? How’s that possible? It’s been so long.”
“I couldn’t part with it, not after that summer. It was my mother’s, and with her gone and what happened to you, I… I didn’t, I couldn’t get rid of it,” Dad said.
“So you pay taxes on it while it rots?” I asked.
“You’d be surprised by how cheap taxes are at Cloud Lake.” He laughed, but I didn’t join him.
“Do you come here ever?” I asked.
“Never. I haven’t been there since I packed up the truck and took you and Zoe away from there for good,” he said.
“So all our stuff is still inside? Grandma’s stuff?” I felt flushed and stuck my arm out the window, letting the fat drops of water splash against my skin.
“I guess so. Unless someone broke in and took it,” he said.
“Dad, I have to go. I have an appointment. I’m here for a job, remember?” I finally gave him a laugh, a fake one so he thought I was okay. I wasn’t going to put it past him to break his promise, not if it meant helping his youngest daughter.
“I remember. Be safe, and I’m expecting you no later than Sunday. Message me. Stay in touch. Okay?” His voice was lighter now that the weight of years of frustration and anger were lifted.
“Deal. Dad, I love you. Thank you for everything,” I said.
“Love you too, Jessica Carver.” The call ended. I knew he used my real name as a reminder of who I was then, the real me, not this city girl with a made-up name.
Before I had a chance to soak in the conversation, the phone rang again, this time from an unknown local number. It had to be McCrae, looking to do a follow-up.
“Hello,” I answered.
“Is this Miss Heart?” a woman’s voice asked.
“It is.”
“This is Nancy… Miller.”
“Oh, Mrs. Miller, how’s Carly doing?” I asked, the words rushing from my mouth.
“She’s… would you be able to come over and talk? If you’re not in the middle of anything.” Her voice was small and meek.
“Of course. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Does that work?” I asked.
“That works perfectly. Thank you. Thank you, Miss Heart.” The call went dead. My arm remained out the window, and I drew it in quickly, shaking the rainwater off.
A few minutes later, I pulled up to their house. Here only a few drops funneled through the dense canopy of tree cover over the street, and when I emerged from the car, my gaze carried over to the area I’d stumbled over with their daughter only yesterday. Had it really only been sixteen hours ago? Somehow it felt like days as I hiked up the cobblestone walkway in the center of their yard. The oversized door opened before I reached the final step, revealing a tired but relieved mother.
She rushed forward, wrapping her arms around me. She pulled me close, and I felt the tears tumbling down her face. “Thank you so much for coming. For finding her.”
“You’re welcome. It was a bit of luck, but sometimes we all need a little luck, don’t we?” I said, forcing myself not to fall to pieces after the flurry of her emotions clouded the entrance to her home.
Mr. Miller was waiting inside, arms crossed, a slight frown over his face. “Miss Heart.”
“You can call me Eva,” I said.
“Eva, this is Carly’s father, my husband Terry.” Nancy motioned to the stoic man, whose statuesque demeanor finally broke, and he smiled as he stuck his hand out.
“Thank you, Eva. If you hadn’t found her…” He stopped himself, a layer of tears forming in his eyes.
“She’s okay now, right?” I asked, scanning the foyer for any sign of the girl.
“She’s… she’s in her room,” Nancy said. “Come inside. Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Please.”
They led me into a formal sitting space with a high ceiling, their
windows stretching up along the wall. Rain dripped over the panes in long lines. The seat was hard, the arms of the chair carved ornate wood. I liked their style, though it was a little stuffy for my tastes. A fire flickered under a wide wooden mantel. I suspected the fire was more for comfort than warmth this summer morning.
“Can you tell us what happened?” Nancy asked, pouring me a cup of coffee from a white ceramic carafe.
I went into detail, telling them about my story, and how I wanted to come to the site of their daughter’s abduction, because something in my gut told me to. They cried as I told them about her initial noises, the cat-like whimpers I’d heard when I overlooked the expansive farmland beyond the trees. I explained the crust on her eyes, and fact that I knew I had to carry her back since I had no cell phone on me. Terry held Nancy close, both of them wide-eyed and weary.
“You are an angel,” Nancy said when it was done. I didn’t tell them about me passing out from the heat and exertion, but I think they knew.
“Are you feeling okay?” Terry asked me, and I almost laughed at his concern.
“I’m fine now. Is there a suspect? Do you know what happened?” I asked, trying not to pry too much. I had to understand.
Nancy looked Terry in the eyes, and her husband gave a slight nod. “She’s not telling us anything. She says she doesn’t remember.”
My blood turned cold again; it was becoming a bit of a habit in my return to Cloud Lake. “Nothing?”
“She only said something about flashing lights; maybe a shadow of a man, or a woman, she wasn’t certain. Then you were there, carrying her.” Terry picked up his coffee cup and took a loud sip.
It was all too familiar to me. “Can I see her?” I knew this was a big ask, but I also thought they might feel like they owed me any boon I sought.
“I’ll see if she’s feeling up to it,” Nancy said, heading up the stairs.
“The hospital? Testing was done?” I prodded for details from Carly’s father.
He was abashed, but he powered through. “No indication of sexual assault, and the only hair they found will probably turn out to be yours. We don’t know where she was, or who took her. Do you have any idea how frustrating that is?”
I did.
Nancy stepped inside the room and met my gaze. “Carly says she’d like to see you. But alone.” She appeared crestfallen. “If it’s the same to you, I’ll be right in the hallway,” she whispered, and I nodded.
Terry stayed downstairs, and I walked up the flight of steps and followed Nancy to the end of the hall. She pushed the door open, and there was Carly, looking much more like a normal thirteen-year-old than how I’d found her yesterday. She was in jeans and a t-shirt, sitting on her bed, staring at a tablet with headphones on.
I entered, closing the door halfway, and I sat at the foot of the bed. Carly lifted the headphones off and set them on the comforter beside her. Her room was nice… more than nice. It was amazing. Photos of her and her family on trips around the world were in collages on the wall. A vanity with a lighted mirror and a stool held more pictures, these of her and friends. She was a popular girl, a rich girl. Bad things happened to people from all walks of life.
Her window faced the trees down the block, and I imagined seeing the two of us emerge from the forest, Carly in my weak arms.
“Hi, Carly,” I said softly.
“Hi.” Her hair was in a braid, obviously something her mom had done to comfort the both of them that morning.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“A little tired. They gave me IV fluids yesterday, and I finally ate something last night.” She didn’t look me in the eyes, but I was surprised by how much she was divulging.
“How did you sleep?”
Now she met my stare. “Not well.”
I glanced at the doorway, wondering how close her mom was. “Carly, I know what you’re going through.” My voice was barely over a whisper.
“You do?”
“I was taken when I was a little girl.”
Her eyes went wide, and she leaned closer to me. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. The police accused someone, but I don’t remember any of it. Just the lights, then being found. Is that what happened with you?” I asked, and suddenly, our foreheads were nearly touching.
She nodded. “What was it?”
“I don’t know, Carly. Whatever happens, don’t let this event rule your life.” I wasn’t sure how long I had to talk with her, but I couldn’t leave without saying my piece. It was bottled up inside me, and it needed out. “Move past it, don’t obsess over it. Don’t let your friends or family make this your future. What just happened to you is not your identity. It isn’t who or what you are.” I tapped her on the chest gently. “You’re a wonderful girl, and you’ll grow up to be an amazing strong woman, and this will be something that happened to you, but it will not define you, do you hear me?” Tears washed over my face as I said the words, and she was crying too, nodding, and her arms flung around my neck as she pulled us into an embrace.
“Do you understand?” I asked, louder this time, and she sobbed that she did.
“What is…” Nancy was behind us, no doubt lured in by the noises.
I didn’t say anything else. I just stroked Carly’s hair and held her there, a victim holding another victim, bonding like no one else could, because they didn’t understand. Nancy didn’t bother us, but I could hear her crying from the doorway. We must have stayed in that position for five minutes before Carly finally let go, her red puffy eyes looking up at me. “Thank you. Thank you for finding me. And for talking to me.”
I pulled her in again, the tears not over. I saw so much of myself in her, and I wished for a moment that there had been someone to have this conversation with fourteen-year-old me.
July 11th – 2001
“Isn’t this quite the sight,” Dad said from a gloomy corner of the living room. A table lamp snapped on, casting its orange glow over him. The two empty mason jars sat on the end table beside him. “Here, now.” He pointed to the couch, and Zoe took the lead, me following behind, shuffling my feet. I was so worried about being caught in a lie that I almost ran from the room.
“Tell me where you were,” he said, startlingly calmly.
“We were at the beach. Fireflies are for babies, so we…”
“Don’t lie to me, Zoe Daphne Carver.” His voice was a low growl.
“We met up with some people at Local Beach,” she admitted.
“Who? What people?” he asked, glaring at me.
I waited for Zoe to answer. She was the big sister. When she didn’t, I spit it out. “Just some kids we saw in town. They invited us to come by.”
Dad was leaning in close to Zoe. “Is that beer I smell?”
“You were drinking beer, it’s probably just…” Zoe started.
He grabbed her face, not hard, but hard enough to startle my sister. I’d never seen Dad so upset. “Another lie. That’s three so far tonight between the two of you. How often do you lie like this to me? Am I just a sad sap you fool all the time?”
“No, Daddy,” I said, using a name for him I hadn’t spoken in years. “I swear. We were just invited today, and didn’t think you’d let us go, so we went. It’s only ten thirty. We always stay up this late!”
He slammed his hand on the coffee table. “You’re fourteen years old! And you,” he said to Zoe. “You’re supposed to take care of her for me. You two are all I have, and there are things that go on in the dark around here that you cannot be a part of. Drugs, booze, sex.”
I’d never heard Dad talk like this, and I was getting scared. “We’re sorry, Dad. I only had a sip of the beer, and then we left. They weren’t really that cool anyway. Plus I felt bad for lying,” Zoe said.
Dad shook his head, letting out a big sigh.
“What’s going on here?” Grandma asked from her bedroom door. She shuffled towards us, a robe over her shoulders. Underneath, I could see how skinny she wa
s, wasting away before our very eyes. She didn’t even look like the same woman from Christmas time.
“The kids snuck out to go to a party,” he said.
“Oh, Brian. They’re teenagers. I seem to recall giving you a few get-out-of-jail-free cards,” Grandma said, melting my heart. She was sticking up for us.
“Do you know what it’s like to have the neighbor knock on your door at nine at night, asking if I knew where my daughters were off to?” he asked.
My throat bobbed up and down. “What neighbor?”
“Peter. We’re going to go fishing in the morning, by the way. So you two can help Grandma around here, and you’re both grounded for a week.” That was it. Dad shook his head, and I didn’t blame him for the punishment. The fact that the creepy neighbor ratted us out made me want to scratch an itch I didn’t have.
“Dad, what about the Summer Kick-Off?” Zoe asked.
“Is it this week?” he asked.
Zoe nodded.
“Then no. You break the rules, you pay the price.” He left the room, heading to his bed.
Grandma went to the kitchen, poured three glasses of water, and motioned us over. “Don’t worry, girls. We’ll butter him up. I want you there with me,” she said, leaving out the fact that she knew it would be her last time.
July 14th – 2020
I left the Millers with a heavy but relieved heart. I really thought I might have helped Carly in some small way. I’d texted her my personal cell number and saved her email address. It felt important to stay in touch. I’d be that ear she could talk to when times were tough.
The rain was pouring heavier now, breaking through the canopy above with ferocity. Once inside my car, the wipers activated, and I saw it was already noon. From my experience, nothing ever got done between the hours of noon and one at a public office, so I decided to hit Buddy’s for lunch before visiting Town Office.
The roads were nearly vacant. The tourists would all be nestled up out of the rain, playing games as a family around a crowded table, the kids trying to sneak that extra hotel onto their property, the moms wondering when was too early to pour that first glass of vacation wine.
Lights Over Cloud Lake Page 14
