Careless Whisper

by Stacy Claflin

  Something caught her eye underneath a lawn chair. She bent down to pick it up. It was just a pen, but it was one of hers. She recognized the chew marks on the top. It was a bad habit when she was deep in thought—something Mom was always on her case about.

  Ari stuffed it in her pocket and kept searching. Not far away was one of her erasers. She’d drawn hearts over it while thinking about Damon. Before long, she’d gathered most of the small school supplies. Nothing from her purse, or the handbag itself.

  Damon came over. “Your dad’s just leaving. He’s passing along the info.”

  “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

  He frowned with a little nod. “He’s not happy we’re here alone. Says he and your mom made that clear.”

  “So what?” she exclaimed. “We’re outside and looking for my things! We only came because you were sent the picture. Give me your phone.”

  He handed it over.

  She called her dad while marching around the backyard, scanning for anymore of her things.

  “Are you calling to apologize?” Dad answered.

  “This is Ariana, and no I’m not. We only came here because someone texted Damon a picture of my bag in front of his house. Not that it matters, but we haven’t even gone inside. If you don’t trust us, you can always check the alarm system. It hasn’t been activated.”

  “Actually, it does matter. You know the rules.”

  “Some guy threatened me and stole my bag! I don’t care about rules right now. I just want my things. Then I’ll be home, and you can ground me or whatever you feel like doing. I don’t really care.”

  “I think you do. And I’m sorry that happened to you. Believe me, I want nothing more than to put these guys away. You’ve been fine since that happened? Johnston stayed near you at school?”

  “Yes, I’m great. I just want my things so I can get my homework done.”

  “Is your bag there?”

  “Mostly.” She picked up a tube of lipstick. Maybe that meant the rest of her makeup was nearby.

  “What do you mean by mostly?” Dad asked.

  “My stuff is spread all around the property.”

  “I don’t want you there alone.”

  “You don’t want me here with Damon and you don’t want me alone. You’re not making any sense, Dad.”

  “The abductors could be there—watching.”

  “Well, I’m not alone. Damon’s here, remember?”

  “You shouldn’t be there without an officer present.”

  Ari held back an eye roll and picked up her tube of mascara. “You’d say that any day of the week.”

  “Anderson and Hanks already want to see the actual note. I’m going to see if they’re heading over. If not, you and Damon should drop it off.”

  “We have homework to do!”

  “Your safety is more important.”

  “Then have them come here because I’m not leaving until I have all my things. And you might want to start getting used to the fact that I’m growing up. I’m going to be driving soon.”

  “That doesn’t mean you get to call the shots. And besides, this is something we can discuss later. I’ll make sure someone comes out to look around with you and take your statements. Then I want you to come home.”

  “Fine.”

  “Ari, I love you.”

  “Love you, too,” she muttered.

  “Are we in trouble?” Damon asked when she handed him his phone.

  She shook her head. “But Dad’s partner or one of the other officers is going to come out and have a look around.”

  “That isn’t a bad idea.”

  “We’re perfectly capable of handling this.”

  Damon kissed her cheek. “But it’ll be even better having a professional here.”

  “Dad just doesn’t want us alone.” She spied something turquoise behind some trees. “My purse!”

  They hurried over to the edge of the woods. Ari’s heart leaped when she saw it. It had been a gift from Mimi and Papi before they moved to Japan. She’d been eyeing it for a long time but hadn’t been able to afford it.

  She picked it up then hugged it, taking in the leather scent.

  “You’re never that happy to see me,” Damon teased.

  “No?” She turned to him and kissed him deeply, finding her worries melting away.

  Gravel crunched under car tires around the front of the house.

  She pulled away and scowled. “Perfect timing.”

  Damon cupped her chin. “We can pick up where we left off later.”

  “I hope so.” She put her purse in her school bag as they walked around to the front yard.

  Anderson and a well-dressed brunette in her forties stepped out of a black sedan.

  Hopefully they could help her find the rest of her things.

  Chapter 32

  Alex stared at the computer screen and tugged on his hair. He could hardly focus for two seconds. At this rate, it would be next year before he got the blog post up. There was no time to waste with two teenagers buried underground. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Zoey’s plan to move. Or now Ariana being over at Damon’s house alone.

  He took a deep breath. Both of them had proven themselves to be trustworthy by keeping their grades up and following the rules. This was the only time his daughter had gone over to her boyfriend’s house since he’d moved back in. And according to her, they hadn’t even gone inside.

  However, he knew how teenagers thought. He wasn’t that far removed from his own teen years, having only been fourteen when she was born.

  And now he was back to thinking about something other than the blog post. Again.

  Alex rubbed his eyes and stared at the screen. He had all of two paragraphs written. It wasn’t like this had to be flowery prose. All he needed was to share the facts. Let the public know what to look for.

  It wasn’t that difficult. And on any other day, it wouldn’t be. Some days were simply too much, and this was one of them.

  Not that it mattered. Two girls’ lives depended on him. The least he could do was to pull himself out of his own problems and get this post published. If it was his children on the line, he’d want the popular blogger to get the job done ASAP.

  He took a deep breath, held it. Exhaled slowly. Shoved all thoughts out of his mind then let his fingers fly across the keyboard. Uploaded what pictures he had. Read over the paragraphs for any obvious errors. Ran a quick spell and grammar check.

  Finally, he hit “publish.”

  Relief washed through him. He’d gotten it done. Managed to put aside his own problems for a few minutes in order to help two families with real problems. His wife and kids were safe. That was all that mattered.

  For now. There was still the issue of convincing Zoey that staying in town was the better option. And that reminded him he needed to call the people on his list he hadn’t been able to reach before. Friends and family who could potentially talk her out of moving. Even if one person couldn’t, perhaps all of them together would help her see the light.

  He got up and walked around, stretching his legs. Glanced outside to check for Zoey’s car.

  She still wasn’t home.

  That would give him the time to make some calls. He grabbed a cream soda from the fridge then kicked back on the couch.

  He texted his sister first.

  Alex: Is now a good time to talk?

  Macy: Zoey’s here.

  Alex: Did she tell you she wants to move?

  Macy: Where?

  Alex: Far away.

  Macy: What??

  Alex: We have to talk her out of it.

  Macy: I’m on it.

  Alex: Thx!

  Macy: No prob. Don’t want my bestie moving.

  Alex: What abt ur brother?

  Macy: Haha. Not u either, or your kids. Luv u.

  Alex: U2.

  He relaxed a little. At least Macy would talk with Zoey. If their friendship wasn’t enough to sway his wife’s mind, maybe his
sister could approach her as a counselor and point out why the move wouldn’t be good for the kids. Zoey would listen to that line of reasoning.

  Hopefully.

  He finished off his drink before making his first call. It was to her friend from Zumba, who was more than happy to talk with Zoey. The others were just as eager—especially his mom. He was right about her not wanting to see her son or grandkids living anywhere other than next door.

  Exhaustion squeezed every inch of his body. Although he really should get up, he gave in and closed his eyes.

  He woke to the sound of a key turning in the lock.

  Ariana walked in.

  Alex sat up, trying to regain his bearings. “We managed to find all my things—and I didn’t go inside Damon’s house once. But I see you’re so worried about it, you fell asleep.”

  “You can drop the tone, Ari. I fell asleep because I’ve had one hell of a day—and that includes worrying about what happened to you. I’m glad you got it all back. What’d they say about the note?”

  “Nothing. Where’s Mom?”

  “Over at Aunt Macy’s.”

  “So, no dinner?”

  Alex rose. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

  “Am I okay? I was mugged at school, and you got mad at me for going to pick up my bag! It’s not my fault the stupid kidnappers took it to Damon’s property and scattered my things all around.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “I know it isn’t your fault. We’re all under a great deal of stress right now.”

  “Why are you so stressed? Is it because of the case?”

  “I’m off that now, aside from posting about it on my blog. I hate that you got dragged into this. And Mom …” He let his voice trail off, not wanting to burden Ariana with Zoey’s desire to move. With any luck, she would change her mind before Ari ever had to know about that.

  “What about Mom?”

  Alex shook his head. “It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.”

  “Yeah, right. What’s wrong with Mom?”

  “Nothing. She’s just worried.”

  “That’s nothing new.”

  “You’re right.” He took a deep breath. “Why don’t you study while I throw something together for dinner?”

  “Is Mom coming home?”

  “Yeah. She and Aunt Macy are just talking.”

  Ariana studied him. “Is something wrong? You aren’t getting a divorce, are you?”

  He bristled at the suggestion. “What? No. Where’d that come from?”

  “It sounds like something is really wrong.”

  “There’s an issue, yes. But divorce isn’t even close to being on the table. I don’t know why you’d leap to that conclusion.”

  She frowned. “It happens every day.”

  “Not to your mom and me.” He sauntered past her and opened the fridge, looking for something to make. It was no easier focusing on the food than it had been on the blog post earlier.

  Divorce? How could she even think that?

  “Dad.”

  Alex jumped, then turned around. “What?”

  “Why don’t you just put in a frozen pizza? I just texted Mom, and she said the twins are staying with Aunt Macy and Uncle Luke. She’s not hungry.”

  “Great.” Alex pulled a pizza box from the freezer and turned on the oven.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.” Alex slammed the pans around until he found the tray for the pizza.

  “If you say so.” Ariana left the room.

  Alex sighed and leaned against the table. How could everything have gone wrong so quickly? The day had started off rather well, but he was arguing with both Zoey and Ariana, and he was off the big case to boot.

  Once the food was ready, he and Ari ate in silence before she returned to her room to study.

  He checked his phone for a text from Zoey and looked outside for her car.

  Zilch on both accounts.

  It was tempting to send her a text, but he didn’t want to interrupt if she was in the middle of a heart-to-heart talk with Macy. He needed to let his sister work her magic. Luke was out of town, or Alex would call his brother-in-law.

  Alex trudged upstairs to their bedroom, stopping briefly outside Ari’s room. The light shone from under the door and music sounded. He started to knock so he could check if she was studying, but who was he kidding? She was on top of her schoolwork. Always had been.

  He changed into sweats and a well-worn t-shirt. Glanced outside again before climbing into bed. Maybe Zoey was going to join the twins for the sleepover at Macy’s.

  As he settled in, his mind raced. He really wanted to text Zoey, but it was best to wait. Finally, his eyelids grew heavy and he let them close.

  His phone beeped, pulling him from his slumber. He felt around for it and cracked one eye open to see if Zoey had come in.

  She hadn’t. Hopefully the call was from her.

  It wasn’t. Instead, it was a text message from an unknown number.

  Unknown: We’ve killed one of the girls because of your blog post.

  Alex dropped the phone. They had to be lying.

  They had to be.

  Or at least exaggerating. The two girls were already buried underground. What would be the point of digging them up just to kill them when they would die anyway without doing anything?

  He picked up the phone, his mind racing with ideas to reply. But it might be better to not respond and just let Anderson or Hanks know about the text.

  Dots danced on the screen indicating a new text was being written.

  Only it wasn’t a text this time. It was a photo.

  The picture showed a girl badly beaten, lying on the ground. And that wasn’t the worst of it. The girl wasn’t one of the two victims the police knew about.

  The kidnappers had three girls, not two.

  There might even be more they didn’t know about, if the parents hadn’t reached out to authorities.

  Another text came in.

  Unknown: We’ll kill them all if you don’t take down your post. Now.

  Chapter 33

  Owen refreshed the page. “The post is still there. Maybe he didn’t get the texts.”

  Sam glared at him. “Of course he did. He’s just testing us.”

  “It’s pretty late. Grownups go to bed early. He’s probably sleeping.” Owen looked at the body on the ground. “What are we going to do with her?”

  “I don’t care! Refresh the blog again.”

  Frowning, Owen did as he was told. He couldn’t wait to be free of his former friend. “Still there. I’m telling you, that cop is asleep. We’d be smart to do the same thing.”

  Sam shook his head. “Nope. He needs to respond—either by text or by removing the post.”

  Owen checked on the girl. Her chest moved up and down. Even though she definitely looked dead, she wasn’t.

  She wasn’t even one of their victims. Sam had insisted on using this girl to make the cops think they had more people buried than they actually did.

  More leverage, he’d said. Get them scared. Then the rest of the money would roll in.

  Hopefully he was right. The last thing he wanted was for any of this to drag on any longer.

  He double-checked the girl’s breathing before returning to his phone to refresh the blog again.

  Still there.

  “Well?” Sam said.

  Owen shook his head and wandered into the kitchen. Other than a bag of chips that had been opened for a few days, there was nothing to eat. This place was disgusting, and the food inside even worse.

  He sighed and thought about his dad’s apartment. It was small and cramped, but at least he had decent food. His dad yelled a lot, and nothing Owen did was ever good enough, but he hadn’t been running from the authorities.

  What had he been thinking agreeing with Sam’s idea to make money off ransom notes? Copying an old case from like sixty years before.

  It was stupid. Stressful. But here he was.

  S
am was saying something in the other room. Mumbling, from the sounds of it. Probably wanting Owen to check the page again.

  He could refresh it himself—he had a phone, too. And it wasn’t like he was the boss, even though he acted like it.

  Owen grabbed a handful of chips and ate them, trying not to think about how stale they were.

  Then a thought struck him. He marched back into the living room. “We have sixty-thousand dollars. Why are we eating stale chips?”

  “You’re eating stale chips.” Sam didn’t look up.

  “What are you eating?”

  “Nothing. Not now.”

  Owen groaned. “I’m going to get some real food.”

  “With what money?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. The stacks of cash?”

  Sam sat up. “You can’t spend that, stupid.”

  “Why the hell not? What’s all this for, if we can’t spend it?”

  “We have to get it laundered. I’m looking into options.”

  “Are you serious? Why didn’t you mention this before?”

  “Because I didn’t think you were dumb enough to think we could turn around and use it at the golden arches.”

  “I need something to eat! Those chips are disgusting, and they aren’t even food! Just a stale snack.”

  Sam laid back down. “Again I say, with what money?”

  Owen kicked a wall. “I don’t care!”

  They stared each other down before Owen stormed out the door, slamming it behind him. He didn’t go anywhere. Couldn’t take the van. They’d parked it too far away to deal with right then, and he didn’t want to risk being followed again. No way. If he was going to get caught, so was Sam.

  There was also the matter of how to get food when he didn’t have spendable cash.

  He could always sneak into his father’s place. It wasn’t like Dad would’ve changed the locks. And he’d be sleeping at this hour, so they wouldn’t have to talk to each other. It was perfect, except the apartment was miles away.

  It was either walk or go back inside and eat the stale chips.

  Neither option sounded great, but even if Dad had nothing other than the things to make sandwiches, it sounded like a dream at this point. That would be worth walking miles each way.

  The door flung open, startling him.