by D. L. Wood
She paused, and when Emma didn’t stop her, she continued. “I know you’ve had a horrible time with your mom leaving. Nobody should have to deal with that, and I know exactly what that’s like. But the thing is, in your case, Reese stayed. He did the right and hard thing and raised you guys alone. Single parenting is brutal. My mom couldn’t do it. Tate and I, we ended up in foster care.”
Emma’s mouth dropped slightly in disbelief. “You did?”
Chloe nodded. “But the point is—you didn’t. You have a dad who loves you and is there for you. Reese is doing the best he can, and if that means take-out at six o’clock or working at home so he doesn’t have to be gone all night and all weekend, well, that’s not the worst thing in the world.”
Emma pressed her lips together, processing that. “That’s awful, what he did to you. I can’t believe you even came here to see him. Why didn’t you just tell him off and leave?”
Chloe shrugged. “I was going to. But, I don’t know…it changed once I met him. For one thing, I found out about you and Tyler. And then…I guess…when I finally met Reese, when I actually had a conversation with him and saw him with you guys, I realized that the person I knew once upon a time just isn’t here anymore. Your dad, the man Reese is now, he’s different. He’s trying. And from what I can see, and from what Holt tells me, he’s doing a pretty good job by you and Tyler.”
Emma grunted contentiously.
“I know he’s far from perfect. But he is present.”
“Okay, but even if he’s changed,” Emma pressed, “how do you forgive something like that? Something that awful? I don’t know how you can stand to be around him.”
“Well, it isn’t always comfortable,” Chloe admitted, “but I am trying to forgive him. I’m kind of…working through the process. You’re right, though. It’s not easy.”
“I couldn’t do it.”
“Well, a year ago I wouldn’t have been able to do it either.”
“So why can you now?”
“A lot changed in the last year.”
“Like what?”
Like everything, Chloe thought. “Jack and I…we met during a crazy time. Tate had, um, done some stupid things that got me in a lot of trouble.”
Emma’s eyebrows perked. “What kind of things?”
“He had…taken some stuff that some really bad people wanted back.”
“Bad people, like criminal people?”
Chloe nodded as the clocks began a staggered chorale of various tunes, announcing it was three o’clock.
“No way.”
“Yeah. But Jack helped me through it. And when things got really scary and I was struggling to keep it together, Jack told me about what helps him hold it together when everything’s a mess.”
“Which is?”
“His faith. Something about that surrender gives him peace, even when things are incredibly hard. Not that he still doesn’t hurt,” she added, thinking of his recent exit, “or struggle or sometimes do stupid things, but somehow, it’s all just…different when you’re also trusting God in those moments. It gives you another perspective.”
“It sounds a little too easy,” Emma said skeptically.
“That’s what I thought. But eventually, after seeing the difference it made for him, I decided I wanted that peace too. And I was surprised as anybody to find out it actually exists.”
Chloe let her words resonate for a moment, a thoughtful silence passing between her and Emma. As the teen actually seemed to be pondering Chloe’s words, she let her be, and began snapping shots of the gilded clocks from multiple angles.
“I saw you,” Emma finally remarked after a few minutes, shifting on the trunk to face Chloe better. “In the hospital when we visited Dad. You were eyeing that hospital chapel when we left.”
“Yeah, well, praying helps me. And I definitely need all the help I can get because, like you said, forgiving the man that abandoned me is not easy. And,” she said, standing as she clicked one last photo of a particularly old grandfather clock, “not something I would naturally do. But I keep feeling like, if God can forgive me for the things I’ve done, then who am I to deny Reese the same?” She glanced down the way at a booth showcasing a number of vintage bridal gowns and tossed her head in their direction. “What do you think? Would they make an interesting shot?”
Emma sucked in a breath and squinted at the dresses, holding her fingers up like a makeshift viewfinder. “Yeah, I could see it.”
“Okay, come on then. Grab the light.”
They moved about twenty feet down and Emma busied herself resetting the light, talking while she worked. “So…Jack.”
Chloe smiled at the girl’s less than subtle change of subject. “Yesss?”
“Holt said he’s a Navy SEAL. And that he works on movies.”
A faint but proud smile crested Chloe’s mouth. “Yeah. Funny how those are the two things that always seem to stick with everyone.”
“So has he ever introduced you to somebody famous?”
Chloe clicked her cheek in mock dismay. “Not yet, but I’m holding out for Chris Pratt.”
Emma snorted, a dry chuckle escaping. “So if he’s so amazing, why are you having problems?”
Tiny shockwaves of surprise coursed through Chloe, and she stopped checking her light meter. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not an idiot. He left in a hurry that morning after he showed up and you seem, I don’t know, a little sad or something ever since he left.”
“We’re…working through something.”
“Is it the fact that Holt likes you?”
“What would make you say that?” Chloe stammered.
“Oh, come on,” Emma groused. “It’s obvious. He hangs on every word you say, and he kept looking at Jack in this weird way the whole time they were waiting for you to show up the other night.”
“You’re being ridiculous. Holt’s not like that.”
“Not in front of you. But when you’re not looking, he like, stares at you.” A slightly evil grin had crept onto Emma’s face.
Chloe forced a dismissive chuckle. “No. He doesn’t. Holt’s your dad’s partner, and I’m just helping him because we want to figure out what’s going on so everybody’s safe. He needed somebody to pitch in while your dad’s in the hospital, and I was here.”
Emma smirked. “Yeah, whatever. But I gotta tell you, you don’t even sound like you believe that. Where is he, anyway? You two are always together.”
“We are not,” Chloe contested vehemently, then looked a little sheepish as she provided an answer. “He’s at the office for a deposition or something. He said if he didn’t tend to some of his other cases he would get fired by the clients who are actually paying him. He said he’ll come by for dinner with everybody tonight.”
“Of course he will.”
Chloe pulled a face just as her cell rang.
“Hey, Izzie,” Chloe answered, doubly happy because not only was it her best friend, but it gave her an excuse to short-circuit the Holt discussion. “Can you hold on a minute?” She brought the phone down as she turned to Emma. “I need to take this real quick. Do you think you could run out to the car and grab my gold light reflector? I want to use it for the next couple of shots. I left it in my backseat.” She dug her keys out of her purse and handed them to Emma. “It’s folded up in a black circular canvas pouch.”
Emma took the keys and headed towards the front of the building, disappearing behind a row of dining room pieces as Chloe returned her attention to the phone.
“So, how are you?” Chloe asked. “I miss you.” She imagined Izzie sitting behind her editor’s desk, her long, ebony hair tied back in a band, chomping down on the nicotine gum she had been chain-chewing since trying to quit smoking.
“Miss you too. I haven’t heard from you in a couple days. You still doing okay?”
“Yeah. We’re good.” She filled her in briefly on Reese’s improvement. “I’m with Emma now. Trying for a little quality tim
e. And I’m squeezing work in, too.”
“Ooh, I like the sound of that. How’s it coming?”
“Great actually. I’ll have everything I need to start piecing something together soon.”
“Fantastic.”
“How’s Jonah?” Chloe asked. Her golden retriever was a regular guest at Izzie’s house whenever Chloe went out of town.
“Wonderful. Better than my kids. At least he listens when I tell him to stay.” They chatted happily for several minutes until Izzie interrupted Chloe’s debate about which restaurants to include in the article. “Hey, can you hold on a minute?” she asked Chloe, before having a quick, muffled conversation with someone on her end. “Hey,” she came back on, “I’m really sorry, but I’m gonna have to go. Can I call you later?”
“Absolutely. Don’t forget.”
“I won’t.”
After hanging up, Chloe resumed planning the gown photos, moving around to determine the best angle from which to shoot the collection of dresses given the faint lighting this far back in the building. She felt like the gold reflector would help give the shot an organic, warm feeling, but she would have to try it out to be sure.
When another few minutes ticked by, she looked up in the direction Emma had gone, wondering what was taking her so long. The disc should have been easy to find. They had parked down the street a bit because they had stopped in another shop before coming here and just walked the rest of the way, but it wasn’t that far. She tried Emma on her cell, but she didn’t answer Chloe’s text or her subsequent call.
Concern growing, Chloe left her equipment and maneuvered through the aisles back to the storefront. Bypassing the clerk who tried to speak to her, she pushed through the front door. There was no sign of Emma in the antique mall’s graveled parking lot. She returned to the front desk, her sense of danger escalating,
“So, how are the pictures going?” the clerk asked. “Getting what you need?”
“Yeah, um, it’s fine, but—did you see the girl I was with? Did she come through here?”
“Sure, maybe…ten minutes ago.”
“Did she come back in?” Chloe asked, thinking maybe Emma had ended up going down the wrong aisle.
“No. Not that I saw, and I’ve been right here the whole time.”
Chloe flew out the door, headed for the street. As she landed on the sidewalk, she rounded a bank of trees that had previously blocked her view. There was her car, parallel parked about halfway down the street where she had left it. But Emma was nowhere to be seen.
What was I thinking, sending her out here alone!
“Emma!” she yelled, scanning the area as she frantically jogged toward her car. “Emma!”
Nothing. On the street, a plumbing company van rolled by, braking at the stop sign ahead before turning right. Chloe stopped, her eyes shooting to it. She wondered where it had come from, her imagination conjuring terrible pictures of Emma unconscious in the back. With desperate, jittery fingers, she tried Emma’s cell again.
A phone rang faintly from somewhere ahead, in the same direction as Chloe’s car. Charging towards the sound, she pleaded in her heart for a glimpse of Emma’s oversized plaid shirt. The ring grew louder as she raced toward it.
There, on the sidewalk beside Chloe’s car, lay Emma’s abandoned cell.
Chloe gasped as she bent down to snatch up Emma’s phone, then screamed when she spotted Emma lying face down in the backseat of her car.
“Emma!” Chloe yelled, yanking on the door handle, but it was locked. She pounded on the window and yelled Emma’s name. This time, Emma flipped over, her eyes wide and cheeks tear-stained as she reached to unlock the door. When Chloe ripped it open, Emma flung herself into her sister’s arms.
“Hey!” Chloe exclaimed, grabbing Emma’s face and pulling her back to get a better look. “Are you okay? What happened? What were you doing in there?”
“He said,” Emma started, her words choking off mid-sob, “not to move. Not to leave until you came out. He said he would hurt you.”
“What? Who said that?”
“The guy—I came out here to get your stuff, and when I bent in the car to get it off the floor, he shoved me face down on the seat. Told me not to look, not to move. He said he’d hurt you if I got out. So I didn’t—”
“And he just shoved you in here and left?” Chloe asked, completely perplexed. “Why would he do that?”
“Because,” Emma continued, rubbing tears from beneath her mascara-smeared eyes, “he said he wanted me to give you a message.”
FIFTY-TWO
After a full day of putting out other people’s fires, the Vettner-Drake matter had landed on Elise Banyon’s desk once again. She watched the smoke from the last cigarette of her current pack of Dunhills drift meagerly upward before ultimately falling victim to the draw of her electronic ashtray. It was just after six o’clock and a hint of brilliant sunset remained at the edges of the Memphis horizon, with the darkening sky increasingly offering a stark backdrop to the fluorescent-lit offices in the buildings surrounding her own downtown suite. Between buildings she could see the rolling water of the Mississippi River passing between Tennessee and Arkansas, the orange glow of sundown reflected hundreds of times over in the rippling current.
Being that time of day, she was already mildly craving the two fingers of Talisker 18 she allowed herself every evening as reward for a job well done. But that would have to wait. Tonight she still had work to do.
“Hello,” he finally answered, after her call had been put through the standard series of protocols to avoid any unwanted listeners.
“We have a problem. I got a tip from someone in the probate office here. Someone’s been poking around some holdings.”
“Which holdings?”
“Donner’s.”
He expelled a vexed groan. “So take care of it.”
* * * * *
“Okay,” Holt said, his eyes locked in on Emma, who sat in her family room with Chloe, Jacob, and Trip surrounding her on the couch. “One more time. And this time, say it exactly like he did. No paraphrasing.”
Emma groaned, leaning back into the cushions, frustration starting to get the better of her after going over the scare several times with the police, her friends, and now Holt. From his spot on the sofa arm, Jacob reached in and squeezed Emma’s shoulder in support. Chloe thought he looked exhausted and wondered if maybe the toll of his father’s incarceration was overwhelming him. Even Trip looked haggard, like he too was losing sleep over his friend’s plight.
“He said,” Emma started, “‘Tell them the lawyers need to stop. I’m done asking. It’s your last warning.’ Then he locked the door and slammed it and that’s all I know.”
“And you’re sure you didn’t get a look at him—”
“No,” she interjected emphatically, “because I wasn’t stupid enough to try to look at him after he said he would hurt Chloe.”
“Yeah, no, that was smart. I’m just trying to fish out anything that might help us. Let’s go back to his voice. Was there anything else, anything at all, other than that he sounded like he was doing a ‘really bad Christian-Bale-Batman’ impression?” he asked, quoting Emma’s earlier, very colorful description.
Emma shook her head, no, her black hair swinging across her shoulders.
“What if,” Trip suggested, rocking back and forth on his white Nikes, “you, you know, were able to, like, do a police lineup or whatever? Would that help?’
Emma shook her head again. “No. Even if I heard him again I wouldn’t be able to identify his voice. I mean,” she added regrettably, “unless maybe he did the Batman thing.”
The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the lasagna takeout Chloe had ordered from Zolo’s Italian Restaurant. Between the episode at the antique mall and dealing with the police in the aftermath, she had not had the energy to even think about cooking anything.
“It’s about time,” Emma grumbled, jumping out of her seat and chugging toward the front
door with Jacob and Trip following.
“It’s paid for,” Chloe shouted after them, then turned to Holt, eyeing him pointedly. “So have the police come up with anything else?”
Holt shook his head. “No. I checked in with them again after I ran by to see Reese—he’s really worried about you guys, by the way. I told him you’d call later.”
“I will. I just couldn’t go after everything today. I’ll call with the kids after dinner,” Chloe assured him.
“The detective I talked to said the prints from your car could take several days to process. But if this was the same guy that attacked Reese here or came by the hospital, I doubt he left any. He didn’t leave any before, so I don’t know why he would start now.” Holt tiredly ran a hand through his hair. “On the upside, they are going to increase patrols past the house…drive by even a few more times during the night.”
Chloe grimaced skeptically. “I’m not sure what good that’ll do.”
“Well, I already told them to do it. And we’ll have to keep the kids close.”
“I think it has to be school only, and then home. If they do go out, they’ll have to be with one of us the whole time. No more going out of sight, even for a second. That was so stupid,” she lamented, dropping her shoulders.
He put a hand on her arm. “It wasn’t.”
“Yes. It was. But it won’t happen again, which means Emma will have to take a break from work for a while.”
“She’s not going to like that.”
“No,” Chloe agreed, “but it’s got to happen. And what about Reese?”
“The police still have someone posted for now. But I don’t know how long they’ll be able to do that. We may want to consider hiring a private security guard. Just as a precaution.” Holt sighed. “And I’ve been thinking about something else.”
Chloe’s eyes flicked up to meet his. “What?”
“I could just drop Sims’s case. Just hand it over to someone else.”
Holt’s complete turnaround on this subject caught Chloe by surprise. She squinted at him dubiously. “Before now you were completely against dropping it.”
