Lies Never Sleep

by Stacy Claflin

  “How many times do I have to apologize?”

  “It’s too late for that! You’ve had almost twenty years to tell me any of this, but you never did!”

  “We’ve been over this. Would you open the door so we can talk face to face?”

  “No!”

  Morgan took a deep breath and counted to ten, then twenty. “If you won’t let me in to talk, at least let me in to get some clothes.”

  “Hold on.” Rustling noises sounded on the other side. A minute later, the lock clicked then the door opened.

  Morgan stepped forward to go inside, but she threw a stack of clothes at him. “There’s your clothes, now go away!”

  “You do realize that’s my bedroom, too?”

  She slammed the door, and the lock clicked into place.

  “Lila!”

  “I’m done talking to you!”

  “Well, I’m not done. We still need to talk about this. Last night all you did was shout accusations at me.”

  The door flung open and she stuck her head between the gap. “And that’s all you deserve after what you did to me! I can’t believe you told Atlas and not me!”

  She started to close the door, but he put his hand out in time to block it. Half the clothes fell from his grasp.

  Lila gave him a death glare. “Let go!”

  “Not until we talk about this. And by talk, I mean you actually hear me out.”

  “What’s the point? You obviously don’t care about what I think.”

  “It has nothing to do with that. Will you hear me out? So we can move past this and focus on what’s really important—finding Atlas.”

  Her expression contorted. “Finding Atlas isn’t contingent on hearing you out.”

  “No, but we can hardly look for him when things are like this.”

  “I can look for him just fine. I’ve been posting things all over social media. Every picture I can find. Links to the boys’ video channel. The whole world is going to know what those kids look like by the time I’m done.”

  “Thank you for doing that, but—”

  “It’s not for you.”

  Morgan took a deep breath before saying something he’d later regret. “I realize that. What I’m saying is, Atlas shouldn’t return home with us arguing.”

  “Guess you should’ve thought about that before keeping such a big secret from me!”

  “Don’t do this.”

  “Give me nineteen years to think about it.” She stepped back into the room.

  “Don’t you want to know why I told Atlas?”

  “Not really.”

  “He found out, Lila. That’s why he knows. He was going through the files in my study, looking for one of his records. Then he stumbled upon my paperwork—all of it. The marriage, the divorce, the baby’s death.” Morgan’s voice cracked. Even all these years later, thinking of the death could bring him to his knees. “I didn’t want to talk to him about it, but I had no choice. And it brought everything back to the surface, like it had just happened.”

  “Maybe I’d feel sorry for you, if you had told me on your own. Leave me alone!” She ducked out of the way and slammed the door before he could stop her again.

  Anger burned in his gut. “If you’re going to be like this, then forget it! I’m just going to focus on finding Atlas.”

  “Good!” Something hit the other side of the door.

  Morgan felt like punching something, but walked away. What he needed was to get out of the house. Away from Lila and her anger. It wasn’t like it was anything new. She was always upset about something, and this new revelation was one more thing for her to be in a bad mood about.

  He took his clothes to the guest bedroom, picked some out, then showered in the kids’ bathroom. Next time, he’d insist on using his own bathroom. But for now, he didn’t feel like dealing with Lila.

  Downstairs, the twins were eating breakfast.

  “Morning.” He started a pot of coffee.

  “When are you two going to stop fighting?” Scarlet asked.

  “Good question.”

  “I’m serious.” She stared at him.

  “What are you two fighting about, anyway?” Violet finished off her toast.

  He sighed. “I don’t want you two worrying about that. There’s enough other stuff on our plates.”

  “Like Atlas.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Do we really have to go to school?” Scarlet yawned. “I could hardly focus yesterday. Today I’m worried and tired.”

  “You don’t want to fall behind. You’re on track for honor roll again.”

  “I know.” She frowned. “It just doesn’t seem to mean as much right now.”

  Morgan rubbed her shoulders. “I know, believe me.”

  Violet looked at him. “Are you going to work?”

  “I probably will, yes.”

  “Probably?” Violet arched a brow.

  “Just eat.” He poured himself some coffee. “I’m going to the school this morning.”

  “Why?” Violet asked.

  “To ask questions. Somebody has to know something.”

  “The police were asking people questions yesterday.”

  Morgan gulped his coffee. “And they’ll probably be there today. I doubt they were able to talk to the entire student body. But that won’t stop me from asking around. My son is missing, and nothing is going to keep me from looking for him.”

  “Even fighting with Mom?” Scarlet asked.

  “Yes.”

  “What was that all about, Dad?” Violet gave him a knowing look.

  He stood up straight. “Nothing for you girls to worry about.”

  “Oh, come on! Really? Atlas is missing and you two are at each other’s throats, and we’re not supposed to worry about it?”

  “You girls have enough to concern yourselves with right now. That’s all I’m saying. Mom and I will work this out. We always do. Do you two want a ride to school?”

  “Are you picking us up?” Violet asked.

  “I don’t know. If I can’t, I’m sure Mom can.”

  “I’m staying late,” Scarlet said. “Debate Club today.”

  Morgan turned to Violet. “What about you?”

  “I’m not in the debate club.”

  “I know that. Are you staying late, too?”

  “Not unless I get detention.”

  He sighed. “Well, I’m going if you don’t feel like driving. You can catch a ride home with someone or take the bus.”

  Violet contorted her face. “Ew. The bus? Really, Dad?”

  “I’m just saying. Maybe Mom or I can pick you up. There are options.”

  Violet rose and picked up her plate. “What I don’t feel like doing is being on the smelly bus with all the freshman. I’ll drive myself.” She turned to Scarlet. “I can wait around and drive you home, if you want. I wouldn’t mind watching some of the boys’ sports practice.”

  Morgan shook his head in disbelief. Did she think about anything other than boys? “Or you could go to the library and study.”

  She made a face. “You’re just full of gross suggestions today, aren’t you?”

  They all put their dishes away then headed for the school in separate cars. It was kind of a waste—he and Lila had discussed one car for all the kids, but it was impractical as they were all involved with different activities.

  When Morgan got to school, the mood in the air was somber. Matched how he felt. Sleepy kids discussed homework and the missing boys. Some of them stared at Morgan, knowing who he was. It was a small enough town that everyone pretty much knew each other, at least by sight.

  He stopped a few kids he knew and asked them about Atlas and Emmett. All anyone knew was what the boys had posted on social media—the promise of an upcoming viral video. Apparently, only their close friends had any idea that it had to do with a haunted house. Nobody else had a clue.

  The bell rang for the first class to start, and all the kids scattered, leaving the halls empt
y.

  Morgan made his way to the office.

  The secretary nodded to him. “Dr. James. Any word on the boys?”

  He shook his head. “I’m actually hoping to talk to Atlas’s teachers. Could I get his schedule?”

  “Most of them are teaching. You’d have to wait for a break or their free period.” She turned to her computer and typed. “You’re in luck. Two of them don’t have a class now.”

  “And they’re both in their classrooms?”

  “More than likely. Most teachers like to get as much grading in as possible that hour. They have to do the rest at home, otherwise.” She scrawled some notes on a piece of paper. “This is each of his teachers and their free periods. Lunch or between classes is a possibility, too. But they’re likely to be busy then.”

  Morgan took the paper from her. “I appreciate it.”

  She gave him a sad smile. “I really hope they come back soon. They’re both such nice kids.”

  “Thanks.” He nodded to her before heading into the hall.

  Morgan glanced at the paper and headed for the nearest teacher’s classroom. Ms. Johnston sat at her desk, focused on what looked like a grade book.

  Knock, knock.

  She looked up and tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, revealing a large hoop earring. “Can I help you?”

  “Are you Ms. Johnston?” He tried to hide his surprise at how young she looked. She could’ve been a student herself.

  She nodded.

  Morgan stepped in. “I’m Dr. James, Atlas’s dad.”

  Her eyes widened, and she knocked over a tin of pens. “Oh, Dr. James. I’m so sorry. We’re all so shaken up about what happened to him and Emmett. Can I do anything?”

  “Actually, if you wouldn’t mind answering a few questions.”

  “Sure, of course. Anything to help find Atlas. He’s such a good student.” She stumbled over her purse and grabbed a chair. “Have a seat.”

  Morgan sat and studied the teacher. She was a nervous thing. Maybe because it was her first year. She might even be an assistant teacher, still in school herself.

  Ms. Johnston picked up the pens scattered on the desk. “What can I do to help?”

  He frowned. “I just want to talk with everyone who spent any time with my son. Do you know anything about the plans he made a couple nights ago?”

  “Why would I know?”

  “You’re here with the kids. You hear the things they talk about. Did you hear Atlas or Emmett talking about anything, no matter how insignificant it might seem? Anything could help.”

  “Right.” Ms. Johnston twisted a strand of hair around her finger and looked deep in thought. “I can’t think of anything. But I can send you and your wife an email if I do. I might think of something later. Or I can listen to what the kids are saying. Maybe one of them knows something.”

  He nodded, trying to figure out why she was acting so strange. Maybe her students’ parents made her nervous. “I’d appreciate that. Anything could help. We just want to find the boys.”

  She nodded. “Right. Of course. So do we. I’ll send you an email if I hear anything.”

  Something on her desk caught his eye. “Is that Atlas’s pen?”

  Ms. Johnston turned to her tin and spun it in a circle. “Might be. The kids are always dropping them. Which one is his?”

  He leaned over and pulled out the neon green pen. Sure enough, it had Atlas’s name etched into the side. “These were part of a prize for winning a programming contest.”

  “I’m not surprised. He’s one of my smartest students.”

  Morgan twirled the pen between his fingers. “Seems odd that he’d just drop it.”

  She shrugged. “You know how kids are. I pick up several a day.”

  “Yeah, but Atlas treasures these. He really just dropped it?”

  “I’m not sure. Kids leave them on desks, too. You don’t expect me to remember where I found one pen, do you?”

  It did sound ridiculous when she put it that way, but at the same time, Morgan knew Atlas actually was careful with those pens. Most of them were still in the box they came in, and he never let anyone borrow them.

  Ms. Johnston cleared her throat. “I need to get back to grading these. I’ll email you if I hear anything, okay? I’ll keep my ears open for anything about Atlas.”

  He rose. “I appreciate it. I can also leave you my card so you can call.”

  She shifted in her seat. “Okay. I usually just email parents, though.”

  Morgan pulled out his wallet and handed her a card. “I check my phone more than my email.”

  “Sure. I’ll call you.” She gave him an awkward smile. “I hope you find him soon.”

  “Me, too.” He turned toward the door, then spun around to ask her one more question.

  She had pulled open a drawer, and another neon green pen lay there. The exact color as the one in his hand.

  Their gazes locked, and Morgan forgot what he was going to ask her.

  He cleared his throat. “Thanks for everything.”

  She nodded.

  Morgan turned back toward the door. That teacher had not one, but two of Atlas’s prized pens? Something was up, but what?

  He entered the hall and bumped into someone. “I’m so sorry.”

  It was Brielle. Her eyes widened. “No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. Have you heard anything from Atlas?”

  Morgan shook his head. “That’s why I’m here. Trying to find out if anyone here knows anything.”

  “I’ve been talking to people, too. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

  “Thanks. We really appreciate it.”

  “Oh, you know I’d do anything to find them. They’re my best friends.” She paused. “I hope everything is okay between you and Mrs. James. I really didn’t mean to upset her last night.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He took a deep breath. “I never should’ve tried to keep something like that to myself.”

  Brielle gave him a sympathetic smile. “Everyone has a right to privacy. If I knew it was a secret, I wouldn’t have said anything. I swear.”

  “I know. Thanks.”

  “If I hear anything, I’ll let you guys know.” She turned around and walked away.

  Morgan looked at his piece of paper. There was just enough time to talk to the other teacher who had first period free. But he couldn’t let go of the nagging feeling that Ms. Johnston wasn’t telling him everything. She was the one he wanted to talk to, but he would need to figure out what to say. Maybe do a little digging first.

  11

  Zion Powell

  * * *

  Zion looked around the kitchen. The dishes had been put away, but Rowena was nowhere in sight.

  “Hon?” He wandered through each room in the downstairs. “Rowena!”

  Where had she gone? They were going to head over to the James’s house to find out how they were doing after their argument at the park the night before.

  He went upstairs and found her in her exercise room, on the treadmill, now wearing shorts and a tank. She was running fast and looking out the window. The machine sounded like it was going at top speed.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Running.” She didn’t turn to look at him.

  Zion walked over to her. “I thought we were going over to check on Morgan and Lila.”

  “That can wait.” Rowena kept looking out the window.

  “Our son is missing.”

  “This is how I deal with stress.” She wiped some sweat from her forehead.

  “Do you want me to go over there by myself? Would that be easier on you?”

  “Sure, or you can wait. I don’t care.”

  “I can’t sit still. I’m going to head over there, if you don’t mind.”

  “Do what you want.”

  He studied her. It wasn’t like her to be so distant. Not from him, anyway. They could appear strong to the
rest of the world, but they could always be themselves around each other. “Maybe I’ll just go over there real quick. I can tell them they’re welcome to come here anytime.”

  “Okay.” She turned up the speed and started huffing and puffing.

  Something was going on with her, but she clearly wasn’t going to talk about it right now. Maybe this was just how she was processing such a stressful event. They’d faced a lot together in their many years as a couple, but nothing as serious as not knowing where Emmett was for so long.

  He took a deep breath. “I won’t be gone long.”

  Rowena nodded.

  Zion frowned, but left the room. She’d tell him what was going on when she was ready. Or maybe she just needed to burn off some energy, and that was all it was, though he doubted that.

  He made his way downstairs and outside. The sun was especially warm for this time of year, almost feeling like another wave of summer. But it wouldn’t be long before the weather turned cold and rainy.

  Zion stopped at the end of his driveway and looked up and down the street. He half-expected to see Emmett, Atlas, and Brielle walking down the sidewalk, laughing. His heart ached knowing that wasn’t possible.

  Something rustled from the yard on the left. Zion turned to see the older neighbor pruning back the branches on his apple tree. It was unusual to see Larry, as he worked nights and kept to himself.

  “Hi, Larry.” Zion waved.

  The older man lowered his clippers and nodded but didn’t say anything. He didn’t wave or smile. He actually wore a frown as he glanced over.

  “Have you seen Emmett? My son. He’s missing.”

  “He ran over my tulips.”

  “He’s missing. Have you seen him? Maybe see something two nights ago?”

  Larry’s frown turned into a scowl. “Can’t say that I did.”

  “Him or Atlas across the street.”

  “Haven’t seen anything.”

  “If you do see something, could you let us know?”

  “Sure.” He turned back to his tree.

  “And if you—”

  Larry spun around. “I need to get a shovel from my shed.” He disappeared around the side of the house, and a moment later his gate slammed shut.

  Zion shook his head. Some people were clueless, and unfortunately his neighbor was one of those people. But he couldn’t expect more from the man. As far as Zion knew, Larry hadn’t ever married or had kids. Just locked himself away in the large house.