Chained Guilt (Hidden Guilt (Detective Series) Book 1)

by Terry Keys

  Bye for now.

  Love

  Karen

  **

  Stacy and I seemed to be enjoying each other’s company. We laughed and shared stories about our pasts as we finished our dinner at a local restaurant. It wasn’t nearly as fancy as our first dinner, which I preferred. I was more comfortable with diner-type fare than fancy dishes I could barely pronounce.

  “I really like you, David,” Stacy said. “I don’t need to go on fifteen more dates to know you’re the man I want. Actually I don’t need another date. I want to be a part of your life and the girls lives . . . permanently.”

  I didn’t see this one coming, and it must have been plainly written on my face. No hiding this one.

  “I’m not asking you to marry me, silly, but I would like to move in with you and the girls and make our relationship feel more real.”

  She looked at me with expectation. I didn’t know what to say. She was moving kind of fast, but I knew a lot of things had changed since I’d first dated Miranda. Still . . .

  “This is a surprise,” I admitted. “Not in a bad way, but a definite surprise. I mean, I thought we had a connection, possibly, but—”

  “Talk it over with the girls,” she suggested. “Think about it, David. I want you, the girls, us. Our own little family. Maybe even a kid of our own one day.”

  I pushed myself away from the table. The “one day” relieved me a little. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I’m on not one, but two types of birth control right now. Mainly for some problems I’ve been having,” she said, lifting her hands. “No pregnancies here!” she laughed. “But enough talk about the future. Let’s have some fun tonight.”

  She suggested we skip the theatre and make our own “production” back at her place. She quietly admitted she hadn’t had sex since her boyfriend’s accident. It didn’t take much prying and cajoling before Stacy and I were headed back to her place.

  I slowly eased my hands up the sides of Stacy’s body, stopping just shy of her breasts. She grabbed my hands and encouraged me to cup her breasts. She moaned in my ear. From that point on, my hesitance vanished.

  After our lovemaking session ended, I headed to the bathroom to clean up before gathering my clothes from the floor beside the bed.

  “Where are you going, hon?” Stacy asked, lying naked on the bed, not a shy bone in her body. “Won’t you stay with me tonight?”

  I shook my head. “I have to get back to the girls. I told them I’d be in late, but I’d be in nonetheless.”

  Stacy tried to convince me to stay by offering another round of sex, but I declined. She didn’t make it easy. She rose from the bed, leaving the sheet behind, walked over to me and rubbed my crotch as she nibbled my ear.

  “Very tempting proposition, but I really have to go. This we will do again—a whole lot more, if the girls aren’t opposed to you moving in with us.”

  “So does that mean you’re okay with my moving in?”

  “Well, let’s just say I’m warming to the idea.” I shrugged. “But I’m on duty early tomorrow, and my gear is at home.”

  How weak am I? How did I go from three or four dates to possibly letting this woman move in with me and my girls? Oh, the pleasures of the flesh.

  “Oh yeah, De Luca,” Stacy muttered. “How could I forget?”

  I noticed the sudden hard edge to her voice, though she tried to disguise it behind a smile. I frowned.

  “I’m on duty whether Detective De Luca rides with me or not. She’s a coworker and nothing more; besides, this gentleman prefers blondes.”

  34

  The engine noise woke Miranda. Again, she pulled at her restraints. She heard the front door open and close. Her heart thudded in her chest when she heard David’s voice above her, talking to Stacy. She looked around the semi-dark interior of the basement until she found the source. The bitch had positioned a baby monitor on the small table behind her. The volume was low, accompanied by occasional static, but she heard every word. Just like Stacy wanted.

  “David, I won’t break. Don’t be scared,” Stacy was saying.

  Miranda’s stomach clenched as she was forced to listen to the moans and groans of Stacy, her captor, as she had sex with David. The tape over her mouth prevented Miranda from screaming in outrage. Defeated, she let the tears flow. David had always been a good lover, and now he was showering another woman with his passion.

  Miranda lost her breath; she couldn’t afford to hyperventilate. She struggled to gain control over her emotions, knowing she would die of a broken heart right here, right now, if she didn’t get a hold of herself. She couldn’t allow the bitch to see her pain. Then again, what was the point? Her daughters and her husband had been wiped out of her life by the psycho bitch, and now the woman talked of moving into her house! With her children! With her husband! Miranda moaned in despair. She remained trapped, unable to prevent it.

  Her thoughts were distracted when she heard the front door close a while later. She did her best to quiet herself as Stacy opened the door to the basement stairs and walked down, one slow, satisfied step after another.

  “Could you hear any of that?” Stacy ripped the tape from Miranda’s mouth with a self-assured smile. “I told you, didn’t I? I told you I would have your family. Was the intercom speaker loud enough? David is quite a man, isn’t he? He has such a big . . .” She laughed. “Who’s the smart one now? I stole your life and family. I’m about to steal your house, too.”

  “You’re a cruel bitch!” Miranda sneered. “And you deserve what I’m going to do to you. I promise you that.”

  “And I’m the cruel one, right?” Stacy laughed again. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

  Miranda wondered what Stacy was talking about. She was nice to people, never crossed anyone or had run-ins with them. This had to be related to the story she’d been working on. Had someone found out the details? Had the people she would have implicated somehow become aware and arranged for her kidnapping to keep her quiet? How long did they think they could keep her hidden? Why didn’t they just have her killed? Surely they knew it would be the only way to silence her for good.

  “Bye-bye now,” Stacy taunted, wiggling her fingers at Miranda. “How long do you think it’ll take me to get pregnant?”

  With that she was off. Feeling sick to her stomach, Miranda sank further into despair.

  35

  I walked upstairs and found Hilary asleep, headphones on, music blaring in her ears as usual. Karen was sound asleep as well, clutching her diary. I thought about taking a peek for a moment, but then I passed on the idea. Some secrets are better left untold, I thought. I walked to my room, undressed, took a shower, and then crawled into bed. I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.

  I rose the following morning, Miranda weighing heavy on my mind. I pillaged through one of her drawers and ran my fingers across her silky undergarments. A bra, a sexy thong, a camisole . . . I hadn’t had the heart to get rid of Miranda’s things. I still missed the love of my life deeply and mourned her often.

  I finished dressing and headed downstairs to make breakfast for myself and the girls. The rustling must have wakened them both, as several minutes later I heard them upstairs. I made scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast and set the plates on the table as Karen edged into her seat.

  “So, Dad, how did it go?” Karen said as she nibbled a slice of bacon.

  “Well, actually I was going to talk to you and Hilary about that,” I said. “Not really sure where to begin. Stacy really wants to be a part of our family. She asked me last night how I felt—how we felt—about her moving in here with us.”

  “She didn’t waste any time with that, did she?” Hilary said as she walked into the kitchen, an angry scowl on her face. “I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.”

  I hurried over and gently grabbed her by the arm before she could head back upstairs. “Nothing’s been decided, Hil,” I assured her. “I told her I would talk to y
ou girls, and we would make a family decision.”

  Hilary reluctantly came to the table. The girls picked at their food, and soon it was cold and inedible. I looked at both girls and asked what they thought of the idea. The timing could have been better, I thought, but oh well.

  “I think Mommy would be okay with it,” Karen finally offered with a shrug.

  “I think you should date longer,” Hilary said. “After all, you guys barely know each other. Why the rush?” She paused. “It’s obvious you liked each other from the start, but it just seems fast, Dad. Don’t you think? I mean, is this love or lust, really?”

  I nodded. “I agree, and it definitely was my idea to date longer. But I slept on it last night, and I’m open to considering it, I guess. I ain’t getting any younger. And it could be love . . . I think, or at least I might be headed there.”

  I knew it would be weird for everyone if Stacy moved in and maybe even unfair to the girls on some level. But I had convinced myself I was owed a woman—a partner. To be honest, Stacy was one hell of a catch, and she wouldn’t stick around forever if I dragged my feet too much. I sighed.

  “How about this,” I suggested. “We can have Stacy come over and spend a weekend. Maybe next weekend? We’ll see how it goes. Then we’ll talk about it again after. Fair enough?”

  I didn’t wait for them to respond. I put my dishes in the sink and bent down to kiss each of them on the forehead.

  “Bye, Daddy,” Karen said.

  “Bye, girls. I’ll have my cell, as usual, if you need anything.” I turned to Hilary. “You pick up your sister after school and then come right home.”

  She nodded without looking at me.

  As I headed for my truck, my cell phone rang. Stacy, I assumed.

  “Hello?”

  “David, Captain Wilcrest here. Before you head out, come to my office. Some new evidence has turned up in Miranda’s case.”

  I stopped, my heart thudding. “What kind of evidence?”

  “Someone turned in some hairs and a note. The note said the hairs belong to Miranda and she’s alive and they’re holding her captive. It may be something; it may just be some asshole playing games with us. I don’t know, too soon to tell. I just wanted to let you know and give you a chance to look it over before word about it spread.”

  “What?” I felt confused. “When did this stuff show up?”

  “A farmer said he found the note in front of the station last night. He was coming in to pick up his son from the jail and said it was on the ground. It was just after midnight, so I elected not to wake you.”

  I stood stunned. Miranda, alive?

  “David, it’s been over six months. You know the numbers. I don’t have to tell you. Chances are greater that this is just some kind of game someone is playing. A sick game, mind you, but a game nonetheless. Carter is serving the rest of his life behind bars for his involvement in her disappearance. I’m sure he didn’t leave this in the hands of someone else for it to possibly turn up and bite him.”

  “You’re right, and I know that,” I said. “It’s also possible Carter did just that—paid someone else to get their hands dirty so he and his goons wouldn’t have to and it couldn’t be traced back to them. As many enemies as I’ve made over the years, I’m sure it wouldn’t have been hard for him to find a willing participant.”

  36

  I drove quickly to the station. After I arrived, I rushed inside and blew by everyone, not slowing to say my customary good mornings and engage in gossip station talk.

  “Something new came up in his wife’s disappearance case.”

  I heard the comment from one of the other detectives as I brushed by.

  “When is Porter going to realize she’s gone?”

  “I don’t know why the guy tortures himself.”

  I ignored them all and walked into the captain’s office, closing the door behind me.

  “Good morning, Captain.”

  “David,” Wilcrest said, looking up. “I didn’t expect you so soon.” He sighed. “The lab has been able to confirm that the hairs are . . . were indeed Miranda’s. They’re cross-checking the handwriting with local databases to see if any hits come up.” He lifted a hand. “Still checking for prints and DNA. You know DNA results could take weeks or even months to get a hit—if we get one at all. Beyond that, there isn’t much more to tell.”

  “The note,” I said. “What did it say?”

  “It said Miranda is alive and watching her life play out—whatever that means.” He glanced down, then back at Porter. “It closed with ‘way to go, David.’”

  I frowned. A deliberate taunt? “And that was it? Way to go, David? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Wilcrest shook his head. “It also said she was ‘far enough away to not be seen but close enough to smell your aroma if the wind blew in the right direction.’”

  “What the hell?” I muttered.

  “Honestly, David, I don’t know what any of it means. Sounds like some mumbo jumbo nonsense. Somebody’s playing a cruel joke.”

  I wasn’t so sure. “How did someone get hold of Miranda’s hair?” I paused, my mind racing. “Cap, if Miranda . . . never mind. Stupid thought. I’ll keep it to myself.”

  Before I realized it, I was ranting about something I knew wasn’t possible. I knew Carter or one of his goons had killed Miranda, or at least paid to have it done. Either way, Carter was behind bars. I needed to accept that Miranda was gone. I needed to move on, if not for my sake, then for the sake of the kids. There hadn’t been one shred of evidence to the contrary and I knew that.

  “That it, Captain?” I finally said, feeling emotionally worn out.

  He shook his head. “One more thing.”

  I braced myself.

  “At the bottom, the note also said, ‘Porter, I saved the best for last. I’m going to enjoy you.’”

  Again, I felt nothing but stunned amazement. For an instant, I thought of Prodinov. Then, I thought of the child-killer, the one who had been eluding capture for months.

  “You have any idea what that means, son? Any of it?”

  “Prodinov? The child-killer, perhaps?” I shrugged. “Just sounds like some stupid talk, Cap. It’s probably somebody I brought down, getting back at me or trying to. I don’t know what to make of it.”

  I left Captain Wilcrest’s office and headed for my desk. We were definitely dealing with one sick bastard. I had leads to follow up on regarding a murder-suicide that had taken place several days prior. I’d be working on that most of the day.

  Detective De Luca had watched me walk into the station moments earlier, but had not approached.

  “Good morning,” she said as she approached my desk.

  I just needed to grab some addresses, and then I planned to head out. Still, my head swam with possibilities.

  “Morning to you,” I said. I gestured toward the squad room with my chin. “I take it you heard about the—”

  “Yeah, I heard about it. Asshole. Whoever he is, we’ll catch him. If he keeps it up, we’ll get the bastard, David—Detective Porter.”

  We both stared at one another. I’d sensed a hint of attraction between us before, but now I felt sure of it. The way she said my name, the way she looked at me sometimes. It wasn’t something I would act on, of course, but it was there all the same.

  After a few seconds of idle staring, I spoke.

  “Yes, we’ll catch him sooner or later. He’ll make a mistake if he keeps this up; they always do. But I have to wonder if this asshole is messing with my brain, or if Miranda is actually alive out there. That’s probably his intention. I guess it’s working.” I frowned as another thought struck me. “Maybe the asshole Carter paid to get rid of Miranda kept her. Like a personal trophy of some sort. I know it sounds stupid, but on some level . . .”

  “I don’t want to agree with you and say it sounds stupid, but you know the likelihood of her being alive after all this time is slim to none. Heavy on the none.”

>   37

  “Hilary, hurry up. Let’s go!”

  Karen tried to get off the phone so they could go to the park. Karen enjoyed taking bike rides to the park, and their dad didn’t mind letting them go together. It gave them something to do. Before their mom died, Karen went to the park with her nearly every day.

  Hilary was trying to talk her boyfriend into meeting them there. He knew this park trip wouldn’t lead to as much as a kiss, so he was reluctant. Plus, he had been busy trying to hack into a new FBI program all morning.

  “I’m coming, Karen!” she snapped at her little sister. ”The park isn’t going anywhere, you little twerp.” She disconnected her call to Rodney. “He might meet us there.”

  “Great. He’s a super guy,” Karen said, rolling her eyes—a gesture she’d learned quite well from her big sister.

  “You don’t have to like him,” Hilary said. “He’s my boyfriend. Just come on.”

  “He’s a geek! A nerd! A loser!”

  “Yeah, I get it. Now out.”

  As much as Hilary hated to admit it, she too enjoyed the bike rides with her sister. It was a way for them to remember their mother, something they all used to do together.

  On the way to the park, they passed a firearms store. For a second, Hilary thought she saw Stacy’s car parked there. At least, it looked like Stacy’s car. Their dad had told them Stacy would be on shift at the hospital for twenty-four hours. Why would she be at a store like that anyway?

  Rodney lived near the park and was waiting when she and Karen rode up, perched atop of a park bench.

  “Hey, Karen. How are you?” Rodney said, climbing off the bench and walking toward them.