When my sanity returned and the beast retreated, my father held me in his arms, my mother crying over both of us. She yelled at Dirk to shut his window and go back to sleep—that everything was okay.
Two new guests closed the circle surrounding my emotional breakdown. Pete and Jaxson.
“Jax? What the hell are you doing here?” Dad barked, probably irritated the lid could be blown off his investigation. “And Pete? I didn’t call for any back-up”
“Jaxson’s jewelry set off the alarm when he left work before the scheduled time.”
“Don’t worry ‘robo-cop’. I had permission to leave. You can call my boss to check, which you will.”
“Damn straight,” Pete retorted. He stepped back and dialed a number on his cell.
Jaxson’s fists pushed his waist. “Why the hell didn’t you answer my texts, Riley? What do you mean you have proof?”
My dad’s caring arms disappeared, his brow arched my direction. “What proof Riley?”
“Does someone want to tell me what’s going on?” Mom asked.
“Bev, as much as I want to tell you, especially because I see how worried you are for Riley, babe, I can’t. Although this involves him, he’s not responsible.”
“This has to do with Taylor, doesn’t it?” the question directed at me, not Dad. “She called this morning to thank me for letting her help out at the shop. She said she was going home a week early, but didn’t have time to come by and say goodbye.”
“She’s gone?” both Dad and Jax asked on the same breath.
I eased onto my feet. “Yeah. She went back to Boston…with Michael.”
“Shit!” they both responded on an outgoing breath.
My mother dropped into Dad’s patio chair and folded her arms. “Sorry dear. Now I’m involved. This is a family matter as much as a police matter.”
Pete closed out any remaining space in our group. “Uh, Chief? Jax is cleared, but sounds like maybe I should stick around?”
“Well, we’re not doing this out here. Everybody inside and downstairs. Dirk is not invited to this ‘three ring circus’. Pete, get the recorder out of the cruiser. Bev, make coffee.”
Over the next two hours, I answered repeated questions about my relationship with Taylor. My mother tried to remain unaffected when I described unsavory, intimate details. But everyone squirmed uncomfortably when I showed the pictures on Taylor’s cell phone to Dad, listening to him describe the gruesome details of her injuries into the recorder. Tears streamed over both mine and my mother’s cheeks.
“That’s what made you sick?” Mom asked in a small voice when the recorder turned off.
“Yeah. I’d just finished reading her letter telling me the pictures were on the phone. When I got to the huge bruise on her back, I lost it. Who could do something like that to someone as sweet as Taylor? To any girl?” Tears reappeared from some unknown water reserve in my body, because I didn’t think it was possible I could still cry. “I don’t know what I’d do if I’d seen the last picture, or the DNA…”
Shit!
I ran up the stairs with Jaxson chasing me. “Riley, what the hell?” I pressed my finger to my lips and gestured for him to follow. When I got out to the truck I tugged the bundle under the seat, ripping the cloth cover on the metal frame.
“What’s that?”
“I’m not sure I want to know. Taylor said this had the DNA proof, but we were through forever if I found it.”
“You’re through forever anyway, now that the monster has her.”
“You know what Jaxson? I do not need to hear that ever again! Got it?”
“Fine. Give that to Dad and walk away. Then you can honestly say you don’t know what it is.” He regarded me. “But that’s not going to work, is it?”
“No, damnit. I have to know it all.”
Three sets of eyes watched us descend the stairs, the second step groaning loudly against our heavy steps. I handed what I came to the conclusion was a pillowcase, to Dad.
“Here. Taylor’s letter said this would give you DNA proof.”
I stepped back as if the contents when dumped, would release some rabid creature to attack me. Dad reached into the case and the first item he pulled out sent me running upstairs to my bedroom behind my locked door. Taylor’s church worthy, white lace thong panties.
I swear I never touched a single stair on my retreat. I couldn’t face whatever else had been packed inside that pillowcase and whether I ever saw Taylor again or not, I couldn’t betray her. Even if she never knew, those secrets remained hers.
**
Sleep never happened and when dawn’s pink rays slid through the slats of the blinds, I forced myself upright. The dry air etched my red eyeballs and the soreness of my stomach muscles mimicked hours of lifting weights. I couldn’t muster a drop of spit from crying all night.
The coffee maker gurgled the last drops of black gold and I knew it would take more than one pot to get this family through today. Lucky bounced up and down until I pushed the slider open, setting her free.
I stepped into the morning air, feeling the ripple in the seasons starting. The mornings were cooler with September knocking on August’s door. In the distance, a light fog followed the river bed from the cooling rain showers early this morning.
The patio door hissed on its track when my dad appeared, already in uniform and a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.
“You better this morning, son?” His tone resonated apprehension and the air around us crackled with suspense.
“No,” my answer mournful. “I may never be okay again.” A long burning gulp seared my throat. “Dad, I’ve got to save her from that bastard. I don’t know how, but I can’t sit here and do nothing. Every day she’s with him, she’s in danger.”
“Riley, these things take time. I can’t have you going off half-cocked and doing something stupid. I promised you last night I’d keep you apprised of events, but you are going to have to trust me to handle matters.”
“I can’t promise anyone anything, right now. Not even you.” A couple of blue jays played tag overhead filing the uncomfortable silence. I knew better, but I had to ask. “Did you find anything useful in the pillowcase?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Part of me does. The other part of me feels like I’ve betrayed Taylor by giving it to you.”
“Son, you helped Taylor. Not betrayed her. I won’t get the lab tests back on the sheets for a couple of days, but hopefully, it will give us enough to contact the authorities in Massachusetts and start the paperwork to put that son-of-bitch in jail.”
I swallowed hard. Sheets.
“Riley, I’m going over to Lydia Daniels this morning. If you’re up to it, I’d like you to tag along. Pete will meet us there in thirty minutes.”
He didn’t have to ask twice. Lydia Daniels had to answer for her part in this hell.
**
I climbed out of Dad’s car and froze on the front lawn. My “picture” stared back through shattered glass, as if my frame had been thrown against a brick wall. Two rockers; their paint chipped and faded, moved ghostly side-by-side as if Taylor and I were sitting in them, holding hands. Old and gray, but happy and still holding hands.
Lydia Daniels answered the door, clad in her robe and holding her cup of tea. Her furry slippers were dirty around the edges and she looked like she hadn’t slept either.
“Morning, Sheriff.” She wrapped her robe tighter. “Come in. I’ve got fresh coffee brewing.”
Dad patted her shoulder. “Sorry for coming by so early, but the sooner we move on this, the better for Taylor’s sake.”
“Taylor? What’s happened to Taylor?” she asked, hysteria capturing into her voice.
“She was raped by your asshole Michael, that’s what happened to Taylor!” I stated with so much anger in my tone, it even surprised me. The glower from my father clued me I stepped out of line. I didn’t give a damn. No polite way existed to “tiptoe” around this and I want
ed to make sure Lydia Daniels knew the truth about her saintly “city boy.”
“Raped?” she gasped.
We followed her into the dining room, all of us settling into a chair. Mrs. Daniels dipped her tea bag with enough force to cause the tea to slosh over the cup, forming a dark green circle on the crocheted tablecloth. She looked at the ring slowly spreading as if something foreign, and fell into a state of shock.
“I’ll get a rag,” I offered, trying to earn some points in my favor.
“Why are you here, Riley, if this is a police matter?” Lydia Daniels asked.
“Right now, Lydia, I’m just gathering information,” Dad explained before I could say anything. “Taylor left her cell phone in Riley’s truck. There were some disturbing pictures suggesting she…the bruising would corroborate sexual assault.”
“So that’s where my cell phone went. I thought about reporting it stolen, but Taylor must have taken it.”
She talked like this was any other day and nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Suddenly, her bright denim blue eyes flashed with recognition of what Dad told her. I expected her to be enraged and validate the anger I felt, but she reacted the opposite. She defended Michael.
“Bruising? I can’t believe Michael would do something so vile to Taylor. He loves her. They’re engaged for heaven’s sake! How do you know Riley didn’t hurt Taylor.”
I jumped from my chair. Rage boiled over and nothing stopped the words from exiting my mouth. “Me? You’ve got to be fucking kidding! Michael punched Taylor and kicked her. And you freaked out over my hickey? That jerk put bite marks all over her. Don’t defend him!”
I reeled around drawing a deep, dizzying breath. Tears welled in my eyes so fast I couldn’t see the room beyond the sheets of water. “You did this,” I accused, my jaw clenched so tight I worried my teeth would crack. “You brought Michael here to take Taylor away from me.” I swore by the guttural growl in my throat, I’d shape-shift into some creature any moment.
“I believed it was for the best. Taylor needed to reconnect with Michael before—”
“Reconnect? Well, they reconnected all right. And who is Michael the best for? Taylor or you?”
“That’s enough, Riley!” Dad shouted.
“Is it? I don’t think so. Good old Grams here thought I wasn’t good enough for Taylor. Me. The ‘son of the local sheriff’ couldn’t give Taylor the life she deserved!”
My face remained so close to Lydia Daniels she could smell my coffee breath and feel the contemptuous spit of my every word. “So tell me, Grammy? Does Taylor deserve the life Michael’s giving her now?”
I stepped back when Dad and Pete closed in on me, raising my hands in surrender. “I’d never hurt Taylor like that. I love her. Love can’t be forced and it sure as hell can’t be beaten into someone. You disgust me, Mrs. Daniels. You have to take responsibility for the mess you’ve created, instead of sitting on your sanctimonious high horse!”
Pete grabbed my collar and dragged me away while my father apologized for my outburst.”
“No, Stan. Don’t chastise Riley for speaking the truth,” she confessed quietly. “I did believe Taylor deserved better than your son, and forgive me, but I just can’t wrap my head around this. Michael’s always been such a dear boy.”
Dad’s finger went up and pointed my direction. My cue to remain silent. I planted myself on the bottom stair and Pete stood guard.
“Lydia, unfortunately, these types of people can be very deceiving.”
Mrs. Daniels absentmindedly dipped her teabag, staring across the room with a pained expression. “Why wouldn’t Taylor say anything to me? We’ve always been close.”
“To save her dad’s job,” I interjected.
My father’s head snapped my direction.
I held my palms up. “What? It’s the truth. She told me in the letter. Michael threatened to have her dad fired if she said anything.”
“Unfortunately, I can see Taylor doing that. Despite her parents’ rocky relationship, Taylor loves her father.” She folded her arms and inhaled a deep breath. “Show me these pictures.”
“Lydia….”
“Stan! Show me the pictures!” she demanded. My father handed her the cell phone. Her eyes pinched in anguish at each picture. “Dear God. I was so wrong. So very, very wrong.”
“Lydia, do you mind if we check out Taylor’s room?”
“No, of course not.”
I waited until my dad was out of earshot, though I doubted that was ever possible. The guy had “super-human” radar, why not hearing, too? But I still held one last secret.
“Mrs. Daniels, the night Taylor ran away you made it sound like maybe she’d purposely hurt herself. In her letter, she said she took your sleeping pills. Do you think she’s capable of…”
“Riley, I don’t know what she’s capable of. None of us do because we’re not walking in her shoes. If it was me, yes, I’d absolutely be capable of ending the nightmare.”
I took the stairs two at a time, bursting into Taylor’s bedroom. My legs ceased moving and hundred pound weights seemed attached to my feet. The room still had pale yellow walls with a daisy flower border running along the top. The lace curtains blew gently with the breeze from the open window. But my eyes couldn’t focus on anything but the bed filling the room, appearing to grow in size as I stared at the diamond quilted satin fabric.
I ignored Pete and his fancy flashlight contraption. I knew what he was searching for, but I didn’t want to acknowledge the findings. That way, everything remained in a fake world—one I could erase from my memory, pretend didn’t exist. But it did.
The patchwork lap quilt usually folded over the back of the rocker, lay in a lumpy pile at my feet. I stared at the patches of fabric sewn together, none matching the other, but complete as a whole. Like me and Taylor. We were total opposites but together, a perfect fit.
I had to find her. I wanted a second chance at saving her from the monster who robbed her of the one thing she could never get back. I hated him. Wished him dead. A violent death for retribution. Searing him in hot oil would be too kind.
**
Dust curled around me as I ran the lane home. I vaguely remember Dad calling out to me and Lydia Daniels standing in the entryway, handing my dad a business card to contact Taylor’s father. Pete might have tried to chase me, but lost interest when a possible heart attack threatened after five feet of physical exertion. The man was a doughnut.
I crashed through the front door, leaving it open for any person, critter, or mass murderer to enter. I crammed jeans, socks, underwear, T-shirts and Taylor’s letter into my backpack, with my toothbrush, deodorant, and what I hoped to be a sharp razor, stuffed into the front pocket.
And my bottle of BLVGARI. Taylor bought it for me after sniffing the sample stick for hours. I never thought I’d be jealous of a piece of cardboard, but that cologne sample received more attention than I felt comfortable with. I bathed in it the night I snuck out and almost made the “homerun” before Grammy shed light on our sensuous moment. A moment meant to be our first.
Hell, I never even got a last.
Dad and I collided at the bottom of the stairs. “Where do you think you’re going?” he charged.
“Boston. Where else.”
“How did you expect to get there? Your truck has over a hundred thousand miles on the odometer and the tires ‘shine’ they’re so bald.”
Either exhaustion took over or I slowly morphed into a girl. The flood gates opened again. I couldn’t speak. I just stood there with a scrunched quivering lip while my shaking shoulders sold me out.
Dad’s arms were a fortress around my body, shielding me from all the monsters pulling my world apart. I dropped my backpack and clenched his body to mine so tight I swore his badge would be forever imprinted on my chest. The clock on the mantle loudly ticked each second as I cried in my father’s embrace. If I wasn’t mistaken, I swore his shoulders shook with mine.
My mother’
s soft touch settled both our souls. “Hey, what’s wrong with my guys, huh?” She rose on her tiptoes and stole a kiss of my father’s cheek. “Stan, remember what it was like to be eighteen and in love. Riley’s head and heart aren’t communicating right now, so show some compassion.”
Then she turned to me, holding out her hand. “Your keys, young man.”
“I’m eighteen, you can’t—”
“You’re still in high school and living under our roof,” she clarified, talking over me. “Age is not a factor in this case and you’re in no frame of mind to make any decisions.” She snapped her fingers impatiently and I handed her my keys. “School starts next week and Jaxson ships out. Life goes on, Riley. You can’t stop the world and get off when something bad happens. I’m sorry for Taylor, really I am, but you are my priority. For now, you’re going to have to trust your father to handle things.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but realized it proved useless. My mother seldom interfered, leaving Dad to play the “heavy,” so her playing the part now, plus knowing everything she’d been through this past year with Jaxson, I owed her.
For the first time in my life, I felt miles past helpless…I felt hopeless.
Twenty-Six
ATONEMENT
Jaxson
My palms felt sticky. I checked my breath against my hand, grateful I’d given up my nasty smoking habit, but craving a whole pack at the moment. My feet shuffled again over the doormat and I finally mustered enough courage to ring the doorbell.
I was shocked Ally agreed to see me, but I couldn’t leave without at least saying goodbye…beg forgiveness…profess my undying love.
A breath lodged somewhere in my chest when the door opened.
“Hey, Jax.”
“Ally. You, uh, look great. No, beautiful. Um, could I come in? I’m dying here. Please?”
Her body moved with the door, pressing against the wall and allowing me passage. I followed her into her father’s study. The room never ceased to amaze me with built-in shelves on every wall and books lined up tightly, alphabetically categorized just like the city library. A set of open architect plans stretched over the top of the massive oak desk—the new strip mall slated for construction next spring.
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