Danger Zone

by Stacy Claflin

  Heart pounding, she did as she was told.

  “Cover yourself with clothes!”

  “But why?”

  His only answer was to slam the door shut.

  “Damon!”

  “I’m not allowed to have girls here. Stay hidden!”

  The wall next to her shook as the room’s door flung open and banged against the wall connected to the closet.

  “You’ve got some explaining to do, boy!” boomed a male’s voice.

  Then something crashed against a wall, making Ariana jump.

  Blurt

  Nick paced his office, unable to focus on the pile of paperwork awaiting his attention. He glanced out at Anderson’s desk. He was typing furiously on his laptop—and since he was there, that meant Will’s attorney still hadn’t arrived.

  And that meant Nick should stop pacing and get to his work. But it was easier said than done, especially when this involved him. More specifically, his house. Genevieve was beginning to think he was crazy for not allowing the kids to the house until this was resolved. Not that she’d ever call him crazy, but she was trying to encourage him to let them come over so they could move in sooner. Her parents had even offered to have some people visit from their church to pray peace over the property, saying it had helped them with their home after the grim discovery. Nick wasn't against that per se, but he just wanted answers. Needed to know what had happened there.

  Not that he was sure knowing would help, but he was certain it would do something. Empower him somehow. Maybe he was starting to sound crazy.

  He sighed, flopped onto his desk chair, and flipped through some of the paperwork. A root canal sounded like more fun. But he wasn’t getting paid to pace and fret.

  After a while, someone knocked on his door.

  “Come in!”

  Please be Anderson.

  The door opened, and Anderson stepped inside. “The lawyer’s here.”

  “Thank God.” Nick dropped his pen on the stack of papers. “Did he ride his bike here from Portland?”

  “You’d think.”

  “Mind if I join you?” Nick grabbed his favorite mug and headed for the coffee table.

  “I wouldn’t, personally, but—”

  “But I’m involved and it’s better if I stay out of it.”

  Anderson gave him a sympathetic smile and filled a paper cup with bitter brew. “You’re the captain, and there’s no stopping you from watching on the other side of the mirror.”

  “And for that I’m glad.” Nick stirred some flavored creamer into his drink. Alex was rubbing off on him.

  He glanced at the time and wondered how his friend was doing. Several officers were searching the area where Ariana had gotten off the bus according to the driver. Ari seemed to be taking notes from Parker.

  These kids were going to drive their parents to an early grave if they kept this up.

  Nick waved to Anderson as he entered the small room to watch the interview. Will was in the room with a man in a suit. Nothing too fancy, but not cheap either. Probably a decent attorney. Hopefully one who wouldn’t tell him to stay quiet about everything. Although if that were the case, it would point to his probable guilt. So far, it was all in the air—did the televangelist do it? His unreachable son who was also the boyfriend? Or the girl’s brother? Maybe her parents, who may have been more worried about their reputation than their daughter?

  Anything was possible, but there was only one truth. One person or group who had killed the girl. Doubtful it was all of them. It was a matter of figuring out who had enough to lose that murder seemed the only option.

  Nick sipped his coffee and mulled over every possible scenario he could imagine as he watched the client and attorney whisper to one another. The door opened, and Anderson walked in with Sanchez. It must be getting late if the night-shift detective was in already. Unless they figured it would take that long to get anything out of Will.

  They made introductions and everyone settled into their seats. Anderson set his paper and pen down and made eye contact with Will. “We want the same thing, and we’ll get there faster if you tell us what you know.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  The attorney whispered something to him.

  Sanchez made a note on her tablet before staring Will down. “Someone has been walking free for over forty years after killing your sister. Help us bring him or her to justice.”

  “My parents and I had no idea Daisy was pregnant. Ours was an old-fashioned home, but nobody would kill her over that! We weren’t without our problems, but we loved each other. Like any other family.”

  She nodded. “But things were a lot different back then. Teenage pregnancy was viewed as a mar on the family name by some.”

  Will nodded. “And my dad was proud of his name. But he was prouder of his kids, even if he didn’t show it much.”

  Anderson gave him a shrewd look. “He didn’t show his love at home?”

  Will frowned. “He was a workaholic who was concerned about our status in the community. But if he knew either Daisy or I was in any trouble, he’d have found us help. It’d have been quietly, but he’d have helped.”

  “If that’s the case,” Sanchez said, “why do you think Daisy didn’t tell anyone about her pregnancy? Was she afraid?”

  “You don’t have to answer that,” the attorney said.

  “It’s fine. We weren’t close, so she wouldn’t have told me anything early on. As for our parents, what teenager is going to go to her parents in a situation like that? She had to have been worried about getting in trouble.”

  “What would the punishment have been?” Anderson asked.

  “For something like that?” Will’s eyes widened. “I can’t even imagine. Dad would’ve been furious.”

  The attorney whispered to his client again.

  “Furious?” Sanchez asked.

  Will swore. “I said too much.”

  “If you aren’t guilty and you want to find the murderer, you can’t say anything wrong.”

  “I’m not guilty, but I don’t know if my father is!” Will covered his mouth. “I need to speak with my attorney in private.”

  Madman

  Ariana covered her mouth to keep from gasping out loud. She pulled some clothes around her and peeked through a tiny crack between the slats of wood in the closet door. Couldn’t see much more than shadows.

  Damon’s dad stepped in front of him. Almost seemed to touch him, but it was probably only the angle. “I said you have some explaining to do!”

  “About what?”

  “About what?” The man’s tone sent a jolt of fear through Ariana.

  Damon’s shadow stepped back. “I meant to say, about what, sir?”

  “That’s better.” He poked Damon. “You tell me!”

  “I will, if you tell me what I did.”

  “You should already know that!”

  Smack!

  Ari almost cried out. She held her hands tighter over her mouth. Her entire body shook.

  “Dad, please!”

  Smack!

  Ariana scooted as far back as she could, pressing her back against the wall.

  “Explain yourself!”

  “What did I do? My grades are perfect, I’ve been tutoring, done all the jobs you’ve given me.”

  “Gonna play dumb, are you, boy?” He grabbed Damon and shoved him out of Ariana’s view.

  Thud! Crash!

  Ari squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears, not that it was enough to block out the sounds of Damon’s dad yelling. Or worse, the crashing noises. Thuds and finally, Damon crying out. Pleading for him to stop.

  She pulled more things on top of her. Pressed her fingers against her ears as hard as she could. Imagined she was somewhere else.

  Her mind pulled up an image of an old girl’s bedroom. One she was locked inside by a madman. Not unlike the one outside the closet now.

  Ariana opened her eyes and let go of her ears. There was no place safe—not
in this house and not in her memories. It had been three years, but it felt like she was right back in that creepy room. Like she was eleven again instead of fourteen. Like she hadn’t moved on and made her life better to spite that psycho. Like he wasn’t dead, but alive again in Damon’s dad.

  Something big crashed into the closet door. More things banged around the room. Damon’s dad screamed profanities. Damon pleaded, reminding Ariana of her days begging for her freedom.

  Then her mind brought her back to the empty room, the punishment room. Hot angry tears burned her eyes. She blinked them away, getting them on the clothes hiding her. Not that they would likely do much good if the madman beating up Damon opened the closet. She wasn’t that hidden.

  Finally, she realized everything was quiet. It had been silent for a few minutes, but lost in her memories, she hadn’t noticed.

  Should she climb out from under the pile of clothes? Or wait for Damon to get her? What if his dad was still in there but was quiet now that he’d gotten his rage out?

  What if he’d killed Damon?

  Cold dread washed through her. She shivered and struggled to breathe. What if he’d actually hurt or killed him?

  Her phone. She needed to call the police. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? She dug into her pocket, only to realize she didn’t have it. She’d stuck it in her bag at some point. Where was her bag?

  Blood drained from her body as she realized it was in the bedroom. Damon’s dad didn’t allow him to have girls over, and her turquoise bag with sticker hearts on it was sitting in Damon’s room. And her magenta hoodie was probably still downstairs on the couch.

  What if his dad had seen that, and that was what had set him off? Was it her fault he’d beat him?

  Ari climbed over the pile of clothes, pressed her face against the door, and looked out through the small space. She couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean Damon’s dad wasn’t still in the room. Then she put her ear against the door and listened.

  Heavy breathing.

  Was that Damon, struggling for life? Or his dad, planning his next move?

  She tried to see more between the slat, but it was useless. Whoever was in the room wasn’t in her line of sight.

  Her heart raced. She needed to do something—especially if Damon was hurt, or worse. What if he was barely hanging on by a thread? He might need to get to the hospital right away, and if she didn’t act soon, he might not make it.

  Ariana took a deep breath. It was time to be brave, to stand up to evil. She’d done it before, and she could do it again. Maybe this time she’d have more success. It hadn’t been her brilliance that had rescued her from her kidnapper. She’d only seemed to make things worse for herself. But she was older now. Bigger, stronger. Smarter. And Damon needed her.

  Holding her breath, she pressed her palm on the door. Waited. Listened.

  The door flung open, blinding her with light, leaving her unable to see who the tall figure in front of her was.

  Run

  “Ari! Are you okay?” Damon pulled her up to standing and helped her out of the closet.

  She stepped into the room, blinking quickly, trying to adjust to the light. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Are you?”

  “Yeah. I’m not the one—”

  “I’m sorry you had to be here for all of that.” He pulled her close and squeezed. “I never would’ve brought you here if I thought my dad would be home. He’s supposed to be traveling for another day or two. I don’t know why he’s back early.”

  “Does he always act like that? Like …” Her voice trailed off as she noticed two bruises forming on his face, one on his jaw and one near his eye. There was also some blood on the collar of his shirt. “Oh, my gosh! Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, fine.” He rubbed his side. “He’s in a particularly bad mood today. It didn’t help that he saw your hoodie downstairs and noticed a picture moved.”

  Ari’s stomach knotted. “It’s my fault.”

  “No!” He shook his head furiously, then stepped away and threw some clothes in a large duffel bag. “I should’ve thought it all out more.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “We need to get out of here while he’s in the shower. There’s only a few minutes.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Will you come with me? We’re the only ones who understand each other.”

  She looked around. “What about your dad?”

  “He’s going to get really mad at me if I stick around.” He zipped his bag closed and glanced around. “Do I need anything else?”

  “You’re going to run away?”

  “I’m giving him space until he calms down, which he will. Get your backpack.”

  Ari did as she was told, then he took her hand and led her downstairs. She stuffed her hoodie into her bag. “Are you sure about this?”

  “I know we can’t be here when he gets out of the shower.”

  “Why is he like that?”

  “It’s a long story. I can tell you once we’re out of here.” He went into the freezer and pulled out an envelope.

  “What’s that?”

  “Emergency funds.” He folded it and jammed it into his jeans’ pocket.

  The sound of the shower stopped.

  Ariana’s heart skipped a beat.

  “Hurry!” Damon took her hand and led her outside to his car. He swore.

  “What?”

  “The tires.”

  They were all flat.

  She stared at him. “He slashed them?”

  “No, he let the air out.”

  “What are we going to do now? Do you have keys to his car?” She glanced over at the flat-black Porsche next to Damon’s convertible.

  He laughed bitterly. “Are you kidding me?”

  “What are we going to do, then?”

  “Run!” Damon laced his fingers through hers, and they raced down the driveway. “We have to go through the woods, or he’ll find us!”

  They darted into the trees, headed in the direction of the high school. Ariana flashed back to another time she ran through a similar forest, fleeing for her life.

  That time hadn’t ended so well. But now she wasn’t alone. She also wasn’t fighting a storm as well as a crazed murderer.

  After a while, her lungs started to burn. “Can we rest?”

  Damon stopped and cupped his ear, looking around. “Yeah. I think we’re okay. Be ready to run again if we have to.”

  She leaned against a tree and gasped.

  He put his arm around her and dropped his duffel bag. “Again, I’m really sorry for all of this.”

  “It’s not your fault. But are you going to tell me what happened?”

  Damon’s expression clouded over. “Yeah.” He drew in a long breath and looked deep in thought for a moment. “He didn’t used to always be like this. There was a time when he was nice. Moody, sure. But not out of control.”

  “What changed?”

  He chewed on his lower lip and furrowed his brows. “Mom died. She was the breadwinner, and Dad didn’t have to work because she was such a successful journalist. But with her gone, Dad needed to work. I really think he was more upset about that than Mom dying. He started taking it out on me almost immediately, and it’s gotten worse with time. Would you believe the jerk is mad at her for dying? Like she had any choice! She’d have never left me with him on purpose. That much I know.” His grip around her tightened.

  “Can I ask how she died?”

  “Yeah.” He paused, his expression clouding over. “It was a freak accident. She was interviewing a construction worker in Seattle about some new high-rise the city was building. In the middle of the interview, a crane toppled over, killing her, half her crew, and most of the workers.”

  Ariana gasped. “That’s horrible! I’m so sorry. And your dad blames her?”

  Damon closed his eyes. “Said she should’ve known better than to go to a construction site. Th
at they’re dangerous.”

  “Is he stupid or something?”

  He opened his eyes and scowled. “Either that or heartless. Take your pick.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to live with him. You can’t stay with a relative or move out on your own? You’re almost eighteen.”

  “Not even seventeen yet, actually. Also, no relatives in the area. And if I did move out, he wouldn’t let me take anything. Says legally he owns it all. No idea if that’s actually true or not. Mom bought most of it, but you’d think he was the hero who provided all our nice stuff.”

  “But you get to keep everything if you stay until you turn eighteen?”

  “Until I graduate, and that’s assuming I get into a good college.”

  “That’s crazy. It’s your stuff.”

  “Not according to him. We should keep going.”

  “What are we going to do once we make it to the road?” She readjusted her stance and bumped his side.

  He winced and grabbed the spot.

  “What’s the matter?” she exclaimed.

  “Just sore.”

  “From your dad?”

  Damon nodded.

  She lifted his shirt and gasped at the gash. “He did that?”

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Yes, it is! He shouldn’t be beating you!” Anger raced through her, making her want to march back and give him a taste of his own medicine. But if Damon couldn’t stop him, there was no way she could.

  “It isn’t much longer.” He fixed his shirt.

  “What else did he do?”

  “Don’t worry about it. We need to get away from here.”

  “Are you kidding? Don’t worry?”

  A car sounded not far away.

  Damon pulled her close. “Shh.”

  They waited in silence until the vehicle moved out of their hearing.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “We could go back to your house.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not risking it.”

  “But if he’s gone—”

  “It could be a trap.”

  “A trap?” She exclaimed.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time. Come on.”