Disappeared

by Lucienne Diver

  Praise for Lucienne Diver

  Lucienne Diver writes the story beautifully giving you enough information from other books so you’re not lost if this is the first one you have read. It also motivates you to read whatever you have missed! The investigations and people surrounding Tori are a blast to read, and you will enjoy every moment of it. I look forward to the next book in the series and following the antics of Tori and Apollo. Blood Hunt is an excitement-filled mystery with great characters and a good twist at the end.

  Fresh Fiction

  Book Description

  Disappeared by Lucienne Diver is a gripping YA suspense with a twist that readers won’t see coming. It will appeal to fans of One of Us Is Lying by Karen M. McManus and Last Seen Leaving by Caleb Roehrig.

  Ever since Jared and Emily Graham’s mother fled her toxic relationship with their father, they’ve waited for her to come back for them. Now it’s time. Their mom is settled into her new place and picking them up for a visit. But when she arrives, their father insists the two of them first go to dinner to work out a few things. It’s a meeting from which she never returns. Dad tells them Mom took off, for good this time.

  Emily is heartbroken. But Jared heard something that night. He’s not sure entirely what, but he knows it gave him chills, enough that he pretended sleep when his father came to check on him. He keeps the secret, at least until he really knows what he heard. He can’t risk losing the only parent he has left based on speculation.

  Emily has a secret of her own. She turns her emotional pain on herself, and sometimes she goes a little too far. She’s terrified that someone will find out and send her away, yet she can’t seem to stop—especially as her heartbreak over her mom’s betrayal starts to weigh on her.

  Then the police show up on their doorstep. And Mom’s car is discovered, abandoned, and covered in blood. Jared and Emily need answers. If no one will tell them what’s going on, they’re going to find out for themselves.

  Disappeared

  Lucienne Diver

  Disappeared

  Copyright © 2020 Lucienne Diver

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the copyright holder, except where permitted by law. This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously.

  The ebook edition of this book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share the ebook edition with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  * * *

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-68057-120-2

  Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-68057-119-6

  Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-68057-121-9

  Cover design by Janet McDonald

  Cover artwork images by Adobe Stock

  Kevin J. Anderson, Art Director

  Published by

  WordFire Press, LLC

  PO Box 1840

  Monument CO 80132

  Kevin J. Anderson & Rebecca Moesta, Publishers

  WordFire Press eBook Edition 2020

  WordFire Press Trade Paperback Edition 2020

  WordFire Press Hardcover Edition 2020

  * * *

  Printed in the USA

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  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other WordFire Press Titles by Lucienne Diver

  If You Liked …

  One

  Friday morning

  Emily

  Emily tugged her sleeve down into place, but she could still see the cut. It was thick, red, and angry. Not thin and healing like some of the others. Probably she should have used butterfly Band-Aids or derma glue or something when she realized how deep it was, but there hadn’t been any in the house, and she didn’t dare tell anyone about it. At least she’d gotten the bleeding to stop and flushed the bloody paper towels down the toilet before anyone could stumble on the evidence.

  The fabric of her sleeve was scratchy against the cut, and she was afraid the irritation might open it up again. She was going to have to bandage it. And change. Long sleeves. Three-quarter-length at the very least. Nothing else was going to hide it.

  The temperatures had been stupidly, unseasonably warm for New York in April. Someone would remark on the long sleeves.

  Then again, maybe not. With Mom gone … it wasn’t like Dad or Jared paid any attention. Her brother was too busy being angry and Dad was gone more than home. As always. Probably, she could go slowly mad and no one would notice. She wasn’t so sure it wasn’t happening already.

  But maybe tonight some kind of sanity would return. Mom was coming back for her and Jared for the first time since she’d left after that horrible final fight with Dad, when Jared had hustled her off to the neighbor’s house before she could step between them like she always did. Or tried to. Sometimes the door was slammed in her face. Sometimes she saw …

  Nothing.

  Fighting. People fought. Sometimes they got a little emotional. Things were thrown. Fists. Other things. It happened … right?

  No, wrong. Absolutely wrong.

  Her cut throbbed, the pain bringing her back to now. Like it always did. The pain centered her. She knew that was messed up. She knew she’d be in trouble if anyone found out. She knew she had to stop.

  The bathroom door jumped in its frame as someone pounded on it, and Emily jumped with it.

  “Em, enough already!” Jared called from the other side. “I need to get in there too.”

  Had she locked the door? She was sure she had.

  “Crap,” she said under her breath. Then, “Hold your horses. I’ll be right there.”

  She grabbed her make-up and rushed to the door before he could open it and catch her, just in case …

  It had been locked, but it didn’t make any difference now. She turned the lock and yanked open the door, glaring at him. Things had been so much easier when she was still in middle school and had an extra hour to herself in the morning.

  “Here,” she said, “you happy?”

  “Ecstatic,” he answered.

  “Ooh, big word.”

  “I learned it from you,” he said, standing aside so she could head out and leave the bathroom to him.

  But he watched her go, like he knew something was up. Was it her imagination, or was he looking at her left arm? She tugged self-consciously at her sleeve and double-timed it to her room.

  She had Band-Aids in her sock drawer, so she took care of her cut before pi
cking out a long-sleeved t-shirt in basic black and the ivory scarf her mother had given her with Emily Dickinson poems printed on it. Mom said she was named for the Emilys—Dickinson and Brontë—which was both cool, because they were seriously awesome and edgy for their times, and a burden. Like she carried the weight of expectation.

  She shook it off and headed for the kitchen, hoping to have it to herself, but surprised to find Dad still there. He stood in the breakfast nook staring out the sliding glass doors onto their concrete slab patio with the phone pressed to his ear. Mom used to call Dad her bear. Backlit as he was, Emily could almost see it. Only instead of a teddy bear right now, he looked more like a grizzly, big and bristling.

  “We’ll talk about it tonight,” he said into the phone. It was his angry voice, like his breath was being forced out through clenched teeth.

  Emily wondered whether she should head back to her room, give him some privacy, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to walk away. It had to be Mom on the other end of the phone. She was the only person Dad talked to like that. And sometimes Jared. Hardly ever Emily. Mom and Dad must have loved each other once to make each other so crazy now. If only they could remember that.

  But whatever Mom said, Dad exploded. “Diane, I said we’ll talk tonight. I’m not getting into this over the phone when I have Jared and Emily to get out the door and off to school by myself because you left. And I have to get myself to work. You know, that thing that keeps the roof over our heads.”

  He listened for half a second before spitting out, “Goodbye, Diane,” and mashing his finger down on the hang-up button.

  Emily flinched as Dad whirled around before she could retreat, arm raised as though he was ready to throw the phone across the room. He stopped when he spotted her staring. Her eyes were probably as big as dinner plates. That was how they felt.

  “Um, hey,” she said lamely.

  Dad’s face transformed, the rage on it falling away like he’d dropped a curtain. So fast she couldn’t be sure she’d seen it at all. Or that it had been as high-intensity as she’d thought if he could shut it down so quickly.

  “Oh, honey,” he said in an entirely different voice than the one he’d just used on Mom. Gentle, sad. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

  He took a step toward her and Emily didn’t move. Part of her wanted the hug it looked like he was about to give. He’d hugged her less and less recently, like it was weird now that she had boobs. Like that somehow made her untouchable. Part of her missed being Daddy’s little girl. Another part yelled at her to grow up.

  “What are you going to talk about later?” she asked, unable to help herself. He already knew she’d overheard him. There was no use pretending.

  The question stopped Dad in his tracks, and Emily missed the hug she’d headed off. She wrapped her arms around herself instead. It would have felt disloyal to Mom to hug Dad now anyway.

  He wouldn’t meet her gaze as he answered, “Adult stuff.”

  “You always say that, but if it’s about me and Jared, we have the right to know.”

  “It’s not about you,” he said. “You need to grab something to eat and start getting ready for school. Do you want me to toast you a waffle?”

  Did she? Like the hug, it felt disloyal to Mom to accept anything from him, like saying everything was okay, like the way he talked to Mom.

  On the other, he was the only parent she had right now.

  Torn, Emily just shrugged. Let him make of that whatever he wanted.

  “Syrup and strawberry jelly?” he asked.

  She was surprised that he’d noticed. And touched enough to nod. It was just a waffle. It wasn’t anything like taking sides.

  Friday morning

  Jared

  Jared stood under the water of the shower longer than he should have, knowing he was wasting water. But getting out meant getting on with the day, and that seemed especially rough this morning. He reminded himself that at least he’d see Aaliyah at school if not over the weekend, because … Mom.

  He was excited to see her tonight, and angry at himself for being excited. She’d left them. For good reason, maybe, but he couldn’t help feeling that she should have fought harder to stay. Or taken them with her. He knew that wasn’t fair, that she’d left in the heat of the moment, without even a plan about where to go. But nothing he told himself made him feel any better.

  He kept looking for Mom, expecting her in the mornings when he got up or when he arrived home. It hurt every time he remembered she was gone, and not just at the library where she worked a few days a week. Dad he never expected and didn’t necessarily want. When he was home, he was busy finding fault with everything Jared did. He’d yell about homework, but never actually offer to help. He’d rant about Jared’s messy room with no idea that between track, homework and his girlfriend, Jared hardly ever got to bed before midnight, even though he had to be up and out by seven for school. Mom knew, because she was the one driving him everywhere or, for the past few months since he got his permit, teaching him to drive. And now she was gone.

  But she was coming tonight. And taking them away for the whole weekend, which meant no Aaliyah, and …

  Screw it.

  Jared struck the shower handle to shut off the flow of water and let his forehead fall against the wall. He gave himself a few seconds of pity. Three, two, one. Then he bucked himself off the wall, threw open the shower curtain and grabbed for the towel. He raked it through his short hair, leaving it sticking up at all angles, and then wiped down his body, wrapping the towel around his waist.

  He hit the fan on his way out of the bathroom so that the condensation would clear by the time he was dressed and back to shave, though given how he was feeling, maybe it was best not to try to shave today. It wasn’t like anyone would notice. His friend Danny had a whole almost-beard already, but all Jared had were a few stragglers, hardly enough for a goatee, which was okay, really, because he was certainly no hipster, and hair was friction.

  When he got to the kitchen, dressed and shaved despite himself with only a single nick, he was surprised to find Dad still home, and Emily with a stack of half-eaten waffles. There was another stack in front of his usual place at the table, even though Jared didn’t eat waffles, unless he was carb-loading before a race. They burned off too quickly, leaving him asleep at his desk. Not that Dad could be expected to know that.

  He looked at his father. “What’s this?”

  His father glanced at his plate and then up at him, a smile on his face. A smile. “Smart guy like you, I’d think you’d know waffles when you see them.”

  The urge to smile back tugged at him, but he resisted. Something was up. “I mean, why are they here?”

  “Breakfast,” Dad answered, the smile falling off his face. Good. It had looked odd there. “I made some for Emily, and thought I’d make you some as well.”

  “Thanks?” Jared said. He didn’t know what else to say. He’d have to grab one of his protein bars on the way out to actually hold him over, but he supposed a few waffles wouldn’t hurt anyone, even though Dad was acting strange. Maybe he was honestly trying to be a good parent, give them a sense of normalcy. Or maybe he was just trying to score some points before they had Mom back to compare him to.

  When Danny’s parents got divorced last year, they’d played that game. The Who’s Best game, complete with presents and pizza, ice cream and outings. Danny and his brothers had milked it.

  Jared sat down at his place at the table, which also, miraculously, had orange juice waiting, and reached for the butter, hoping the waffles were still hot enough to melt it. He hated when butter sat congealed in the pockets. But there was always the microwave to give things a boost. His father watched him while he doctored his waffles until he couldn’t take it anymore.

  “What?” he asked, putting down his knife and staring back at his Dad.

  “I just can’t get over what a young man you’ve become.”

  Jared bit back the first remark tha
t wanted to rise up, that if his father paid more attention it wouldn’t be such a shock. He didn’t trust the new, dadlier Dad, but he was afraid to say anything and shut down whatever this was. Dad might use it as an excuse never to try again. “Uh, thanks?” he said again, for lack of anything better.

  Then he cut a big bite and shoved waffles into his mouth so he couldn’t be expected to make more conversation. Emily kicked him under the table, as if telling him to be nice. Like kicking was nice.

  “What time is Mom coming tonight?” she asked Dad.

  The look on Dad’s face made it hard to believe Jared had ever seen a smile on it at all. “Around two thirty when you both get home from school, but she won’t be taking you off right away, so you’ll have time to pack. She and I have a few things to discuss, so we’re going to do that over dinner. Gran is going to watch you while we’re out.”

  Gran? Jared stared at his father in disbelief. “Dad, I’m almost sixteen; Emily’s fourteen. We don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Oh no? What if something happens? I want a driver in the house.”

  “Dad, nothing’s going to happen, and if it does, we’ll call 911. We’ve known that since we were kids.”

  Dad gave him that look that dared him to say another word. Just dared him. “It’s already done. I want you back here after school.”