by T. K. Leigh
Focusing her attention back on the nightstand, she swallowed the aspirin before grabbing the water and downing the refreshing liquid. “I am never drinking again,” she said to herself, knowing that it most likely wasn’t true. She had a great time with Elsie, and she had a feeling that last night was just the first of many girls’ nights they would have over the next several months. At least she hoped it would be.
Her head throbbing, she slowly made her way down the stairs and into the small kitchen. She needed a coffee like she needed oxygen. It took the one-cup brewer an exceptionally long time to finish her cup of coffee. Finally having a warm dose of liquid caffeine in her hands, she padded across the living room toward the front door and out onto her deck.
Settling down into her lounge chair, she closed her eyes. The gentle ocean breeze cooled her flushed complexion as brilliant silver eyes flashed in her mind. Everything was quiet and peaceful that morning, the only sound that of the therapeutic waves as they rolled into shore.
“Nothing like that first cup of coffee after a night out on the town, huh?”
Jolene smiled at the sound of that voice. It had only been twenty-four hours since the prick showed up and wanted her to leave, but so much had changed in him. She looked forward to the sound of that voice now. It was the calm she craved to chase away her fears.
Opening her eyes, she nodded. “I need it this morning.” Her voice was raspy. “I may have drank a little too much last night.” She took a long drag of the hot liquid, willing it to work its magic and take her headache away sooner rather than later. “Incidentally, you don’t have any idea who would have left two aspirin and a glass of water on my nightstand, do you?”
Cam climbed the few short steps onto the deck and leaned against the railing. “We look out for our friends on this island, and part of that service is making sure they don’t wake up hungover.” He winked.
Her mind raced as she tried to remember what happened after she left the bar. “How did I get in my house?”
“You stumbled, rather clumsily, up the stairs and into your bed. Fully-clothed, I might add.” His eyes roamed her body.
She looked down, shocked to see that she was still wearing the halter-top and jeans that she had on the night before.
“Didn’t look in the mirror yet this morning, did you?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, his dimples popping from the jovial expression on his face.
Jolene’s jaw dropped as she took in the chiseled physique that was clearly underneath his wetsuit, although it did not leave much to the imagination. She hadn’t really had an opportunity or a desire to check out his body before, but now that he was standing just a few feet away from her, she couldn’t help it.
He didn’t have huge muscles, but those that he did have were very well-defined. Jolene licked her lips as her eyes traveled down his body, almost able to make out a faint little V around his mid-section. For the first time she could remember, she grew exited thinking about what lay below his waist. The dread that she normally felt when in the presence of a man was nowhere to be found. In its place was a feeling of desire…of want.
“Come back to me. Where did you go, Jolene?” she heard him call out, his gentle voice caressing her name causing heat to course through her body. She raised her eyes to meet his, noticing that he was smirking.
“You caught me, alright?!” she shouted, her face flashing red in embarrassment. “Yes. I was checking you out, and you want to know what I was thinking? I was just thinking that you have a freaking amazing body. I haven’t even seen you with your shirt off yet and it’s already causing my blood pressure to rise, okay? So now that we’ve got that out of the way, can we just go back to me being hungover, still dressed in my clothes from last night, and never discuss this again?” She brought the coffee mug to her lips and gauged Cam’s reaction to her little outburst.
Walking across the deck, he sat in the lounge chair next to her and smiled. “You know what attracted me to you yesterday?”
Jolene rolled her eyes. “Yeah. That I’m the long-lost twin of your long-lost love.”
Cam shook his head, staring out at the ocean before turning back and looking deep into her eyes. “No. That’s what turned me off to you. I wasn’t attracted to you yesterday morning. Well, not initially. But when you were heading out to lunch and asked me if I was on medication, I absolutely lost it. You have this fire about you. That’s what I’m attracted to. Your spirit.”
She blushed, trying to hide her grin behind her cup of coffee. She was giddy with excitement at the fact that Cam just admitted he was attracted to her.
“Doesn’t hurt that you have killer legs, either,” he confessed, getting up from the lounge chair and jumping off the deck.
She watched in bewilderment as he strode to his Wrangler, grabbed his surfboard, and made his way to the shore, words failing her once again.
“See you later, Tomorrow!” he shouted, turning around and winking at her.
Jolene closed her eyes and melted into the lounge chair in complete and utter bliss.
~~~~~~~~~~
ANTHONY FALCONI WAS WOKEN from thoughts of his beautiful Jolene by a knock on the door as he sat behind his desk. “What is it?” he barked.
“Boss, it’s me.”
He grew anxious, hoping that Ralph was able to follow through with his plan of action. “Come in.”
The door of the suite swung open and a short, stocky man entered the living room, dragging a frightened girl who didn’t look a day over twenty. “Is this her then?”
“Yeah. It’s that bitch maid’s daughter.”
A smile crept across Falconi’s face. “Good work, Ralph. Does she know she’s here yet?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way. Let it be a surprise when she comes to clean the room and her only daughter is locked up here. I’m sure that’ll give her something to consider next time she even thinks about helping one of the other girls escape.”
“Why don’t we just off the bitch?”
“Patience, Ralph. She took what was mine, and now I want her to suffer, just as I am suffering without Jolene.” He slammed his fist on the desk, his eyes aflame with fury. “Maybe, if you can’t get the girl’s father to disclose where my Jolene is, this will motivate her to tell me.”
Taking a deep breath, he tried to control his anger and turned his attention to the girl at Ralph’s side, his temper waning as a sly expression crossed his face. “You know, I’ve never had a black girl before.” He got up from behind the desk and walked toward where the petite woman was bound and gagged, her entire body shivering. “There, there,” he said in a calm voice. “You’ll be just fine, as long as you do precisely what you’re told. And if you don’t, say good-bye to Daddy Dearest.”
He ran his finger across her face and caressed her cheek. Bringing his mouth to her ear, he whispered, “I’ll let you in on a little secret, though. I’m going to kill him anyway. And maybe you, too. I bet you’re going to look absolutely beautiful tied up on my bed as you draw your last breath.” He flicked his tongue, tasting her soft flesh.
A tear fell down her face and she tried to shut it all out, not wanting to think about what the two men holding her captive had in store for her.
CHAPTER NINE
DEMONS
EVERY DAY WAS THE same for Gregory Matsen. Every lead turned out to be a dead end. Did he really expect to find anything after over a decade? Still, he never gave up hope. Some days were better than others, and he was thankful to have a strong support system in place for those not-so-good days.
“Hey, Greg,” a tall blonde in her early fifties said when she saw him enter the coffee shop in the Chicago suburb of Elmhurst.
“Hey, Laney.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her slender body into his. “Thanks for coming. You didn’t have to.”
“I know. But I’m glad to be here to support you. I know it’s not easy.”
He sighed, running his hands thro
ugh his dark, graying hair. “No, and today’s pretty hard on me. I’ve been back here for over a year and I still can’t find anything. Maybe I should have stayed in Houston.” He looked around the empty coffee shop, frustrated with life. “What if she…?”
“No,” Laney interrupted. “You needed to come back. It’s better that you be where it all started. There was nothing in Houston for you anymore, and you were wallowing in your own pit of self-loathing.”
“But what if they find something…?”
“Then I’ll know about it, Greg.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to soothe his fears as she stared into his emotional and concerned blue eyes. “I’ve already spoken with a few of your friends from the Coroner’s office down there. Dr. Woodall was so glad to hear from me. He’s worried about you, but I’ve assured him that I’m keeping my eyes on you. He knows to call me if something turns up. I’m monitoring all the databases, as well. If anyone finds something, we’ll know. I promise you.” She grabbed his hands in hers, gently caressing his knuckles.
“Okay, everyone,” a voice interrupted. “Meeting’s about to begin in the next room.”
“Ready?” Laney asked.
Nodding, he squeezed her hands. “I think this will help.”
“Good. Thanks for asking me to come.”
He leaned down and softly kissed her on the temple, his lips lingering just a few seconds longer. He inhaled and smelled sweet cherry blossom and baby powder. Over the past year, when his world felt like it would never turn on its feet again, all he needed to do was breathe in Laney’s attractive scent and he could keep his inner demons at bay, even if for just a brief moment.
Walking through the empty coffee shop, they entered a small private room with approximately twenty people seated around. He liked going to his meetings in the suburbs. There were less people and it was a more intimate setting. He had gone to a few meetings in downtown Chicago, and there were always several hundred people in attendance. Getting up and sharing your story was difficult enough. He couldn’t imagine doing it in front of that many people, most of them only there because it was a condition of their parole or probation.
Grabbing a cup of coffee from the serving table, he took a seat next to Laney, his leg anxiously bouncing up and down while he waited for everyone else to settle in. He felt a small hand land on his thigh, and he glanced to his right, his gaze meeting Laney’s vivacious brown eyes. She gave him an encouraging smile. Just one look and he felt oddly at peace.
Greg’s mind blanked out while the leader began the meeting. He had been involved in some sort of twelve-step program for the past decade and, once a year, he swore that he would get up and share his story. He always felt better once he did, but the guilt that continued to plague his conscience about what happened all those years ago still ate him up inside, even though he had affirmed over and over again that some higher power was responsible. Sometimes it worked. More often than not, it didn’t.
Laney nudged him from his empty and disarming thoughts when the leader called for any volunteers to share their story. Nervously raising his hand, his eyes met with the stocky man who had been taking charge of the meetings for as long as Greg had been going.
He nodded in his direction and Greg stood up to make his way to the front of the room, leaning on a small rickety podium. The air still smelled of stale cigarette smoke, left over from the leader’s nicotine habit.
Taking a deep breath, he faced the group of men and women that he had seen nearly every week for the past year. He hadn’t told this group of people his story yet, and he was happy to be able to share with them. Perhaps that would help them open up and share their own battles with addiction, too.
“Hi. My name is Greg, and I’m an alcoholic.” He paused and waited for the obligatory Hi, Greg. After the polite mumbling, he continued, “I’ve been sober for eleven years. Like a lot of people, I always drank socially. During games. Hanging out with the guys from work. The occasional glass of wine with dinner. I never understood how anyone could turn to alcohol to take the burden off their problems. I was a detective with the Chicago P.D., after all. I had seen what alcohol and drugs did to so many offenders…and victims. So why did I turn to alcohol?”
He paused briefly, looking for the inner strength to share exactly what happened in his past. His eyes met Laney’s and he knew that he could get through anything with her by his side.
“Almost thirty years ago, I saw the mother of my daughter get shot in front of my eyes. She was my world. She was my light. She was my everything. It took me years to realize it, but Angelina wasn’t the only one those bastards killed that day. Part of me died, too. The part of me that was rational and reasonable. I turned to alcohol to cope with the loss of the woman that I loved, that I wanted to marry. I fled Chicago after her death and moved to Houston. Holly, a good friend of mine from Chicago, came to help me take care of my daughter. She tried to talk to me about my drinking, but I wouldn’t listen.
“She practically raised my daughter for me. If I wasn’t working, I was drinking. I was never around to watch her grow up. I missed everything. Her first step. Her first word. Her first day of school. Her first lost tooth. Her first birthday. All because I was at a bar, getting drunk, trying to cope with losing the woman I loved, ignoring the person that we created through our love.
“And it was my drinking that resulted in my daughter and the woman who raised her to be taken from me, as well.” His eyes roamed the room, but he didn’t see anyone sitting there. All he saw was an empty house, the sound of a child’s laughter long gone.
“On Angelina’s birthday a little over twelve years ago, my former partner from Chicago P.D. came to convince me to go to rehab. I agreed on the condition that I be allowed one last bender. We went to a cabin in the woods that I owned. When I finally sobered up and came home, both my daughter and Holly were gone…missing without a trace. And here’s the really horrible thing. When Angie was murdered, the men responsible warned me that they’d eventually come for my daughter. Instead of looking out for her and protecting her, I spent my time drinking. I’ve had to live with that decision every day.”
His face grew weary with the burden that he had been carrying since that fateful day all those years ago. He had so many regrets, but he had to keep reminding himself that he couldn’t let his shortcomings bring him down. He had to bury his mistakes and let others help lift him up.
“Through the years, I’ve learned to take it one day at a time. Some days are better than others. Today is not one of those days. Today is my daughter’s twenty-eighth birthday. I still feel guilt. I still feel remorse. I still feel regret. But I try to focus that guilt on something else. I try to tell myself that I will find my daughter and Holly, and that karma will eventually make the people responsible for all this tragedy in my life pay. It’s all I can hope for.” His eyes met Laney’s once more, the sparkle there reminding him of his new drive to stay on his current path.
“I now have a new reason to push forward, to stay sober. And she’s sitting here tonight, supporting me. She’s shown me that I’m worthy of love again. That I’m worthy of forgiveness. That I’m worthy of a second chance. And I hope that you all find yourself worthy of those things, as well. Thank you.”
He made his way down from the podium toward where Laney was sitting. She leaned in and placed a gentle kiss beneath his earlobe. “I’m so proud of you, Greg. I love you.”
He met her eyes. “I love you, too.”
People began to file out of the room, several of them coming up to Greg to thank him for sharing his struggles. He hated telling complete strangers what had happened to everyone he loved, but he thought if he could help someone else come to terms with their past and their addiction to alcohol, it was worth it.
“Come on. I’ll take you out to dinner.” Laney grabbed his hand and began leading him out of the back room of the coffee shop, heading to the street in the quaint little downtown district. “Italian okay?”
Greg bea
med. “Of course.”
“Shit,” she said, reaching into her purse. “Sorry. My phone’s been going off for the past hour. Do you mind? It’s some seven-one-three area code and a number I don’t even recognize.”
“Seven-one-three? That’s Houston! Do you think…?”
She held up her hand, answering the call, not wanting to give Greg any false hope. She had seen what that had done to him in the past.
“Dr. Cranston,” she spoke into the phone.
Greg paced back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop, trying to calm his nerves as he listened to Laney’s conversation. He hated that he was eavesdropping, but it was a call from Houston.
“Are you certain?… Well, has anyone made an identification?… I see… I’m sure he’ll want to… What?… Why not?… Are you serious?… And there’s nothing you can do to change his mind?… I understand. Politics and all that… Okay. Thanks for calling. You’ll keep me updated if there are any new developments?… Thanks, Will.” Taking a deep breath, she hung up and turned around, Greg’s frantic eyes meeting hers.
“Who was that? What happened?”
“Greg, darling…” her voice soothed. Grabbing his hands in hers, she looked down as she formulated her thoughts in her head. Yes, she had been waiting for the day where she would finally be able to tell him that there was some information after over a decade, but she was unsure how he would actually react to this news. He had been making so much progress and she was worried about him returning to the dark place he was in before he moved back to Chicago.
“Please, Laney. Please,” he begged, his voice full of heartache and hope at the same time.
