As we filed out of the room, I heard one of the officers say, “Phoenix, I need to speak with you privately before we leave.” I made a mental note to ask about that, too.
Not even five minutes later, the officer and his partner left, and Phoenix called Harper, Duke, Shaker, and me back into Church.
“Harper, what I’m about to share with you cannot be shared with anyone outside of this room. Is that going to be a problem for you?” Phoenix asked sternly.
Harper grinned and said in a deep voice, “Club business, right, Prez?”
Phoenix threw his head back and laughed, his laughter echoing around the room. “Good one, Harper.” When his laughter died down, he continued, “The two officers assigned to your case are friends with Luke Johnson, who is a good friend of mine. Luke is an FBI agent, but that’s not relevant at the moment. Anyway, Luke got wind of the investigation and called in a favor on my behalf. He asked the officers to keep an eye out for anything that might be detrimental to the club.”
Phoenix paused and lifted a file folder from the chair beside him. He placed it on the table and pushed it toward Harper. “This folder is a copy of a journal found at the house. It’s assumed to be Hilarie’s. I haven’t read through it, but I was made aware of the highlights. In the back of the folder, you’ll find some original pages from the journal. As far as anyone else is concerned, those pages were not a part of the journal when it was found. The officers removed them because they implicate Duke in the murder of Vincent Vine. I promised to destroy the pages, but I wanted to give you the option to read them. If you want to, you have to do it now.”
Harper stared at the folder in silence for several beats and then shook her head. Her voice was quiet when she said, “I don’t need to read them. I was there. I know exactly what happened.”
“I don’t want to see them either,” Duke added, though I didn’t recall Phoenix offering that option to him.
“Understood,” Phoenix said, reaching for the papers. He pulled a thin stack from the back of the folder, dropped them all except one into a metal trash can, lit the remaining page, and dropped it into the can. “That takes care of that. Now, do you want to hear the highlights or do you want to find out by reading the journal?”
“I would like to read through the journal...eventually, but I would like to know the highlights now,” Harper answered.
“Shaker?” Phoenix asked.
“Now is good.”
“To clarify, I’m going to refer to the crazy bitch as Hilarie, since that’s how we all know her. So, after Duke killed Vincent and rescued Harper, things got even worse for Hilarie. Her mother killed herself, and Hilarie ended up in the care of relatives who ultimately had her committed to a psychiatric hospital, where she remained until her 18th birthday. When she turned 18, she inherited the money from her family’s estate, as well as her father’s life insurance money. She used the money to find Harper and relocate to be close to her. She enrolled in the same college, always lived near her, and even managed to work at the same place as Harper. The officers said it seemed like she wanted to be close to Harper and have a relationship with her like one would a sister. Things were fine until Carbon and Harper went from casual to serious. Her attempts to tear them apart only pushed them closer together. Changing tactics, she thought dating one of the brothers would allow her to still be close to Harper, so she set her sights on Shaker. Shaker wasn’t following the script she had in her head, so she had to come up with another plan. When Carbon and Harper got engaged, and Harper announced she was moving to Croftridge, Hilarie became desperate. In short, she kidnapped Harper and planned to keep her as her prisoner for the rest of their lives. As for Shaker, well, whatever happened pissed her off, and she planned to kill him,” Phoenix told us.
“How did she try to tear us apart?” Harper asked.
“She was the one who broke into your house. She was pissed about you being in Croftridge for a few weeks and thought it would scare you and have you running to her for comfort. She was also the one who broke into Carbon’s condo and stole the gun that she somehow managed to link to a gang-related shooting, hoping to get him sent to prison for the foreseeable future,” he explained.
“She was the one who tried to get Carbon and Shaker arrested for supposedly drugging a drink at Ember’s bachelorette party. And she was responsible for getting herself and Shaker arrested on the way to the lake house,” Phoenix added.
“What?”
“How?”
“Seriously?”
“No fucking way.”
The four of us exclaimed at the same time.
Phoenix held up his hands. “I don’t know the details. I’m guessing it’s all in the folder. Like I said, they gave me the highlights, and I just gave them to you.”
Harper was flipping through the copied pages, apparently on a mission to find something. “What are you looking for, baby?”
“I want to know about the peas and the damn dots,” she answered distractedly. It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for. “Two peas in a pod!” she screeched. “There were no pods! That bitch covered my bed with frozen fucking peas. Oh, and get this, the dots on the wall was her rendition of the Gemini Twins constellation. I’m not her fucking twin!!”
“Baby, it’s over now. She’s gone. You don’t have to worry about her anymore,” I soothed.
“It’s not over, Chase. You heard the officers. They think she had help. That means someone is still out there who may or may not be coming after me, especially when they find out I killed her! What am I supposed to do, hide out at the clubhouse for the rest of my life?”
I didn’t know what to say to her, so I chose to say nothing at all. I held her in my arms and let her have her meltdown. She needed to cry and scream and get it all out.
Our moment of silence was interrupted by Duke’s voice. “I think now would be a good time to tell her the rest of it,” he said.
Her head shot up immediately. “What the hell else is there?”
“When we realized you were missing, we started looking for you. I guess Hilarie set a trap for us, or tried to, because your house went up in flames while we were there. No one was hurt, but your house was destroyed. Duke has touched base with your insurance company since he’s your next of kin,” I told her, hoping the news wouldn’t be the straw that broke the camel’s back.
She inhaled deeply and released it. “I’m glad no one was hurt, and I guess I don’t have to worry about going through the hassle of selling it now.”
I smiled. “That’s my girl.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Harper
I was more than ready to put anything and everything involving the Vine family behind me for good. In order to do that, I had to read her journal. Hell, even a part of me wanted to read it, but I was scared of what I might find written on those pages.
I was already having a hard time dealing with certain aspects of the situation. Even though I knew Hilarie and Valarie were one and the same, to me, it still felt like I had lost the person who had been my best friend for the last few years. Up until a month before my kidnapping, Hilarie and I had never had a major argument, and I genuinely enjoyed the time we spent together. Once I remembered I was grieving for a fictitious friendship, I would get angry with myself. How could I have been so stupid not to figure out who she was? I knew her for years! Berating myself over and over for being an oblivious moron with zero self-preservation skills, I would start to cry and feel sorry for myself. Just like anybody else, I would automatically want to call my best friend and cry on her shoulder, bringing me back to missing my friend. The emotional merry-go-round wouldn’t stop, and I couldn’t figure out how to get off.
Chase was great about giving me space and not pressuring me to talk about it. He carried on as if it never happened, but I could see the worry in his eyes, and the anger lurking behind the worry. With no one to talk to and the club still on lockdown, I only left Chase’s room in the early morning hours to g
et enough food and water from the kitchen to last me until the next day.
On the seventh day of my pity party, I slipped out of bed at o’dark thirty and made my way to the clubhouse kitchen. I flipped on the lights and nearly pissed myself. Sitting on top of the kitchen island with her arms and legs crossed was none other than the president’s wife, Annabelle, clearly waiting for me.
“Good morning, Harper,” she said gently. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in here,” I blurted, still trying to compose myself.
She nodded knowingly. “Yeah, I figured. That’s the reason I’m here.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” I mumbled, even though I was fairly certain I knew exactly what she meant.
“I think you do. You’ve been locked in Carbon’s room almost the entire time you’ve been back. Hiding from everyone and keeping your feelings bottled up isn’t going to do anything to help you. I’m not going to pretend to understand what you’re going through, but I’m going to help you get through it whether you want me to or not,” she said.
I was slightly taken aback by her bluntness. “I appreciate your concern, but with all due respect, I don’t want your help,” I said, hating the way my voice shook.
“I know, that’s why I said I was doing it whether you wanted me to or not,” she smiled. She hopped off the counter and carefully slid a steaming cup of coffee toward me. “Come take a walk with me. I want to show you something.” She picked up her own mug of coffee and started walking toward the back door. She just assumed I would follow her, never once looking back. She was right in her assumption as I dutifully followed her outside.
We walked in silence, quietly sipping our coffee, until we reached the small lake, or maybe it was a large pond. Anyway, she walked toward a bench and gestured for me to sit. “I was kidnapped once, a long time ago. Did you know that?” she asked. I shook my head. “I was younger than you are now. A man, who later turned out to be Phoenix’s half-brother, took me from my home and wouldn’t let me leave. I was there for over six years before I managed to escape.” She was quiet for a moment, and then she continued. “In order to escape, I had to give up everything and start over, as in the witness relocation type of starting over.”
“That must have been difficult for you,” I said, unsure of what to say.
“It was. I had to give up Phoenix to protect him. I didn’t have a lot of friends, but I had a few that were close, like Badger and Macy. I had to give up those friendships, too. I was in a new place with a small child, and I had no one to talk to. I was too scared to leave the house. In fact, I didn’t leave the house for almost two years. The point I’m trying to make here is you have a fiancé, family, and friends here to help you. Let them,” she urged.
“It’s not that I don’t want to, Annabelle. I don’t know how,” I confessed.
“You can start by coming out of the room. No one is going to pressure you to talk or bombard you with questions. Is that what you’re worried about?”
I shook my head, and despite my greatest efforts, tears started falling down my cheeks. Then, Annabelle did the worst thing anyone can do when someone is trying to stave off tears; she hugged me. “I’m embarrassed,” I wailed into her shirt.
“Honey, what in the world do you have to be embarrassed about?” she asked.
“I miss her. Not her. Hilarie, or the persona presented to me as Hilarie. And I feel stupid for being kidnapped by that family twice. How did I not recognize her?” I hiccupped and semi-choked on snot. “And I don’t feel bad about killing her, but I feel bad about killing Hilarie even though Hilarie isn’t real! I’m so confused!”
“Harper, those feelings sound perfectly reasonable to me.” She was silent for a few minutes, holding and comforting me. “Have you read the journal yet?”
“No. I know I need to, but I’m scared to read it,” I admitted.
“I have nothing to do today. Do you want to read it together? Or I could just sit with you while you read it?” she offered.
The thought of having her there with me surprisingly made the task seem less daunting. “I think I would like that,” I said, wiping snot and tears from my face with my shirt. Yuck.
“HARPER!” someone bellowed from a distance. I couldn’t tell if it was Duke or Chase, but the voice sounded panicked. “HARPER!!”
Annabelle jumped to her feet, popped two fingers in her mouth, and whistled so loud I thought my eardrums would burst. “We’re fine! Be right there!” she yelled, her melodic voice echoing in the quiet morning.
We started walking back to the clubhouse, much faster than our stroll to the lake. Chase nearly trampled us before we even made it halfway back. He yanked me to him, “You scared the fuck out of me. I woke up, and you were gone. Couldn’t find you anywhere inside.”
“Can’t. Breathe.” I grunted.
“Shit, sorry, baby,” he said, quickly releasing me. “What are you two doing out here anyway?”
Annabelle grinned. “We were just talking. She was keeping me company while I watched the sunrise.”
Chase’s wild eyes came back to me. “Let me know next time, okay?” he pleaded.
“I will. I’m sorry, big guy. I ran into Annabelle in the kitchen, and we decided to go for a walk. It didn’t even cross my mind that you would wake up and be worried. It won’t happen again, I promise,” I said, meaning every word.
After breakfast, Chase headed out for the day, leaving Annabelle and I sitting at one of the tables in the common room. She smiled softly and reached for my hand. “Do you want to bring the journal over to my house? No one will be there other than me until later this afternoon.”
I spent the better part of the day at Annabelle’s house reading Hilarie’s journal. We took turns reading it out loud and would frequently pause to discuss entries. Many of her entries were confusing. We ended up getting a notepad to jot down questions and make notes. What started out as an emotional journey for me quickly turned into an investigation of sorts.
“Is this the only journal the police found?” Annabelle asked.
“I don’t know. It’s the only one they gave me. At the time, I didn’t think to ask if there were any others,” I said, wondering how I could find out if more journals were discovered.
“There have to be more. Several times she wrote ‘as I said before’ in reference to something that wasn’t in this journal,” Annabelle said, tapping the folder containing Hilarie’s photocopied journal.
“I could call one of the detectives and ask,” I suggested.
After a quick phone call, we were informed that no other journals or items of a personal nature were discovered in the house, such as pictures, journals, keepsakes, etc.
“She had pictures and crap all over her house in Sugar Falls. She even had a framed photo on her desk at the crisis center. Where in the hell did all of that stuff go? It didn’t just disappear,” I said.
“Maybe she rented a storage unit or something,” Annabelle suggested.
“Maybe, but how would I find that out? The detectives didn’t mention anything when they were here, and they just told me they were about to close the case since no new evidence had been discovered. It’s not like I can ask Byte to do some searches for me. I feel like there is more to the story and I’m having a hard time letting that go,” I told her.
Annabelle straightened in her seat and grinned. “I know someone we can ask.”
Keegan arrived at Annabelle’s house with a wicked looking laptop and a smile on her face. “How much trouble am I letting you two get me into?”
“Not much, if any,” Annabelle answered. “We are trying to locate the personal belongings of someone recently deceased, possibly in a rented storage unit.”
Keegan nodded while she got her system up and running. She pushed a notepad toward Annabelle. “Jot down names, aliases, dates of birth, and any other information you have that might be useful.”
The sound of Keegan’s finger
s hitting the keyboard was the only thing that could be heard for long minutes. “I’m not finding any kind of storage unit associated with either of those names. I did find some information on a recent property she purchased. Could the personal items be there?”
“No, the police said they didn’t find anything when they searched the house,” I said, disappointed.
“The police are involved in this?” Keegan asked, a hint of panic in her voice. “What’s really going on?”
I sighed and gave her a short version of what happened to Shaker and me and the questions we were trying to answer.
“Holy shit, Harper! I don’t even know what to say right now,” Keegan stammered. “Uh, now that I know more about what I’m looking for, let me see if I can dig anything up.” She went back to typing while Annabelle and I sat in silence. A few minutes passed, and Keegan snorted, “You guys need to talk. It feels like you’re both staring at me while I’m working and it’s distracting.”
We apologized and began chatting about mundane topics. I tried to pretend like Keegan wasn’t in the room, but I couldn’t and found myself glancing at her every few minutes. Finally, her head popped up, eyes wide, “I think I found something.”
Annabelle and I quickly joined her on the couch. Pointing at the screen, she asked, “Is this the house where you were kept?” When I nodded, she continued, “This house was built on top of an old coal mine. I was able to pull up an old map of the mine, and it looks like a mine shaft connects the house to another house several miles away.”
“Who owns the other house?” I almost yelled.
“Well, that brings up another interesting point. The documents naming Valarie Vine as the owner of the house were fake. There’re actually no records of the house that I can find. The other house and the land both are on are owned by William Anderson,” she said and pointed to the documents she had pulled up on her computer screen.
Carbon (Blackwings MC Book 4) Page 20
