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

by Terry Keys

“Hi, Rodney,” Karen said. “I’m going to the swings, Hil. Some of my friends are over there!”

  She darted off across the playground.

  “Wow, look at you,” Rodney said, a hungry leer on his face. “Come on over here and give Daddy some sugar. Nice shorts. A little too long, though.”

  “Daddy?” Hilary snorted. Maybe Karen was right. She walked over to Rodney, who wasted no time wrapping his arms around her neck. He had barely put his lips to hers when they were interrupted.

  “What is this, young lady?”

  Hilary heard the familiar voice at the same moment she felt a finger tap her shoulder. She turned around in dismay to find Stacy standing behind her, an ugly look on her face.

  “Oh hey, Stacy,” she said, forcing herself to remain calm.

  “Don’t ‘hey Stacy’ me,” Stacy snapped. “What are you doing with this boy?”

  She shot a glare toward Rodney. Hilary stood speechless. She’d never seen Stacy act this way.

  “Who is this?” Stacy demanded.

  Hilary had held her anger in for as long as she could. Just as she was about to let Stacy have it, Karen came running to give her a hug.

  “Look, Hil,” Karen said, out of breath. “It’s Coach Stacy.”

  “Yeah, I see her, Karen,” Hilary said, grabbing Rodney’s arm. “Let’s go, Rodney.”

  “Excuse me, young lady, what was that?” Stacy asked.

  Hilary turned to Stacy and rolled her eyes. She was ready to argue with her, but Rodney tugged her arm.

  “C’mon, Hilary,” he said. “Let’s get outta here.”

  Suddenly, Stacy rushed forward and grabbed Hilary’s arm, jerking her around to face her.

  Hilary yanked her arm out of Stacy’s grasp, eyes wide with surprise.

  “Look, kid,” Stacy snapped. “You need to listen and listen well. I’m going to be a part of your life. It appears you need a mother figure. I can’t believe David puts up with you and your disrespectful attitude. You’re out here slutting around in front of your little sister. If I was your mother—”

  “Fuck you,” Hilary said. “You’ll never be anything like my mother! How dare you try to tell me who I can or can’t kiss or whatever?”

  “C’mon, Hil.” Rodney urged her away from Stacy. “Let’s just go.”

  Karen stood watching, wide-eyed. The two had garnered the attention of a few other park visitors as well. Stacy took a step back and laughed.

  “You know what, Hilary my dear? You’re right. I’m not your mother. You can make out with anyone you’d like. If that’s your thing, so be it. Hey, let’s go make out in the park so everyone can watch us.”

  Hilary was dumbfounded. What was wrong with the woman?

  “It was just a hello kiss,” she said. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting just a bit? Either way, you don’t have a right to question me or put your fucking hands on me. Come on, Karen.”

  She held out her hand for her little sister. For a second, Karen stood still. Stacy stared at Hilary with a strange look in her eyes.

  “Karen can come with me if she’d like,” Stacy said, holding out her hand. “Would you like that, Karen?”

  “Hell no, she won’t,” Hilary said. “She came with me, and she’ll leave with me. Let’s go, Karen, now!”

  Karen reluctantly walked past Coach Stacy and grasped Hilary’s hand. Stacy smiled at them as they turned to walk away. It was a weird grin Hilary would have to work hard to forget.

  “Bye, girls! Be careful,” Stacy said, as if nothing had happened. “Nice to meet you, Rodney.”

  “You see? I knew it,” Hilary said to Rodney as they reached the opposite side of the park. She looked over her shoulder to find Stacy still staring after them. She hadn’t moved.

  “Knew what?”

  “Knew she was a bi—” She bit her tongue, aware her little sister was listening. “I mean, I can’t believe she was all in my business like that. Can you imagine how it would be if she moved in with us?”

  38

  De Luca and I ultimately decided to work the new evidence regarding Miranda’s case instead of following up my earlier leads on the other case—that could wait. This couldn’t. We read and reread the note left behind at the station. We checked the baggie it had been left inside and both came to the same conclusion: someone was messing with me. Miranda was dead. Still, I wanted to catch the asshole who thought it would be funny to toy with me. It had now become more about catching him than finding Miranda’s body. Yes, I wanted to find Miranda, give her a proper burial, but for now, I’d take what I could get.

  We decided to call an impromptu press conference, officially closing the case. This had not been done before, even though the case had, for all intents and purposes, been shelved. We hoped the perp would watch the press conference and strike again so we could catch him. I always suspected someone other than Carter was involved. He wasn’t smart enough to pull off a kidnapping and murder by himself. I wanted the accomplice.

  “Detective Porter, are you sure you want to do this?” the reporter asked as I approached the podium.

  No one knew our real intentions in regard to the announcement. At the station, only De Luca, Wilcrest, and I were in on the plan.

  My hands were a sweaty mess. A small group had gathered at the courthouse to witness the announcement. As I stepped up to the podium, I was surprised to see Stacy in the gathering. How did she find out about it? I had not mentioned my plan to her or the girls. The two of us made eye contact, and I offered a wan smile. I glanced to my right and got the go-ahead nod from the reporter.

  “Good morning,” I said, my hands tightly clenching the sides of the podium. Fake or not, making the announcement caused an upheaval of emotion in me. “My name is Detective David Porter. On behalf of the Harris County Police Department, we would like to first offer thanks for the support this community has lent us in the disappearance of my . . . of my wife, Miranda Porter. Initially, we decided the closure of this case would remain in-house for several reasons, but recently, new evidence turned up in the case. After careful analysis, we have determined that this evidence is a hoax and an attempt to dredge up horrible memories for myself and my family. So, we’re making it publically official that the case into the disappearance of Miranda Porter is now closed. I will not be taking any questions today. Thanks for your time.”

  A handful of reporters crowded around me, spouting out question upon question, all of which I ignored.

  I walked over to Stacy. I gave her a quick hug, and we walked off hand in hand. Stacy told me she needed to talk to me about something, but the timing was bad. I had work to do. Anything else could wait.

  39

  Miranda had wanted to quit so many times, just give up and die. She was down to nothing but skin and bones, and her body ached all over, all the time. She was literally sick and tired—tired of the hell she was forced to live in and tired of life, such as it was. This was not the way her life was supposed to go. She wasn’t supposed to die tied up in some woman’s basement for doing her job. She wasn’t supposed to lose her family and die alone.

  She heard rustling at the door and turned listlessly toward it.

  “Miranda, dear, you’re not going to like me today,” Stacy said as she slowly walked down the stairs. “Well, I’m sure by now there are no days when you fancy me, but you’re really not going to like me today. I have to take something from you. You see, I have a problem.”

  Miranda didn’t give a rat’s ass about Stacy’s problems. She could stick—

  “Today, the police officially closed your case. Do you know what that means? Do you? It means they honestly believe you’re dead. The hair and the note I left for them last week were considered a hoax—a terribly distasteful hoax. What super cops they are, right? I want them to know you’re alive. I want them to acknowledge that I’m too good for them to catch me. I want them to beg me for your life.” She chuckled. “And your Detective David will believe you’re alive, but David the man will still
lust for me, and he’ll make love to me every chance he gets. He’s such a fool!”

  Miranda watched Stacy walk around the edge of the basement near the old worktable, looking for something. She heard her captor place something down on the workbench, it sounded wet.

  “I’ll deliver the package this afternoon while it’s still fresh. Maybe the police will take me seriously this time.”

  She took a step toward Miranda, metal snips in one hand as she reached for Miranda’s hand, bound to the chair.

  “They’d better.”

  By this point, Miranda was almost oblivious to pain . . . or so she thought. She screamed as her captor snipped repeatedly at her finger, hacking away at it till it finally fell to the floor. She focused her hate-filled gaze at Stacy as she dropped her bleeding finger into a sandwich baggie filled with ice, and then moved to tie a strip of cloth around the stump of her finger to stop the bleeding. If the bitch made even one small mistake, Miranda would take no mercy when killing this woman. Unfortunately, everything the woman did was well thought out and meticulous.

  “All done.” she said, laughing. “Good girl. All that screaming, but not a single tear?” She moved back to the workbench, returning moments later with needle and thread and skillfully sutured the skin together.

  “Cry? Why should I?” Miranda muttered. “I won’t give you the pleasure. You can’t hurt me anymore, you bitch.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Stacy said with a smirk. “I may be able to kill two birds with one stone this afternoon. I’ll bring you some pictures, don’t worry. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on the fun. To be completely honest I don’t have a problem with you Miranda. I mean I do think you’re a spoiled prissy little bitch don’t get me wrong. Ultimately though you are just a tool I am using, a very special tool. By the way I’m willing to bet I can and will still hurt you.”

  40

  My cell phone rang. I barely had a chance to say hello when my daughter broke in.

  “Dad how much longer before you get home?” Hilary’s tone was clipped and angry.

  “I’m actually getting into my truck now,” I replied. “Everything okay?”

  “No, everything is not okay, Dad. But we can talk about it when you get home.”

  She hung up. I was confused, but whatever boy problems Hilary had with Rodney couldn’t be that bad. Before I could slide my key into the ignition, my cell phone rang again. This time it was Stacy.

  “Hey, David, how did the rest of your day go?”

  “Pretty well.” I sighed, sitting back in the seat. “I’m glad to have all that stuff with Miranda and the case behind me. What did you want to talk to me about earlier? Is everything okay? You seemed concerned about something.”

  “Well, I’m not sure where to start.”

  I waited.

  “I ran into the girls at the park, and . . . well, I saw Hilary kissing some boy. It was pretty intense stuff. I mean, his hands were up her shirt and she was rubbing on his privates.” She paused. “I can barely even talk about this, David.”

  I sat quietly, my blood pressure rising.

  “There was some pretty loud moaning going on, and there were lots of people around. I mean, it looked like they were about to have sex right there in the park. So I kindly walked over and got Hilary’s attention and—”

  “What? She was doing what? Making out in the park?” I couldn’t believe it. Not Hilary. Sure, she was a normal teenager, but she’d never gotten this far out of bounds. “Damn that d-bag kid, Rodney,” I said. “I told her he was no good. Where was Karen while the X-rated video was being filmed?”

  “I’m so sorry, David. I don’t want you to be mad at me.” She paused again. “Still, you should know.”

  “Know what?” I asked, growing alarmed now.

  “I found Karen talking to some strange old guy about a hundred yards from where I found Hilary. After I grabbed Karen, I walked back to where Hilary and her boyfriend were. David, I just picked up Hilary’s bra and handed it to her. That’s it. She turned around and pushed me and then . . . No, I’ve said enough.”

  “And then what, Stacy?”

  “She . . . she cursed at me. Told me to stay the fuck out of her business. Karen asked to leave with me, but Hilary insisted they go home together. I tried to calm Karen, but she was pretty upset, and Hilary wouldn’t let me get close. Then she yelled at Karen to shut the fuck up.”

  I sat stunned. I knew Hilary had been struggling since her mother’s death, but I had honestly thought she was handling things pretty well, all things considered.

  “Stacy, I’m so sorry you had to witness that. I’m also sorry she talked to you in that manner. I didn’t raise my girls to be that way. I’ll be home soon, so I’ll talk to you later. Thanks for letting me know.”

  I drove home, my anger reaching the boiling point. I burst through the front door like an armed gunman on a home invasion. I took the stairs two at a time, heading straight for Hilary’s room. In the back of my mind, I wondered if her behavior had something to do with the possibility of Stacy moving in with us, but that was a discussion for another time.

  As I barged into the room, Hilary stared up at me in surprise, cell phone in hand. I snatched the phone, opened the back, removed the battery, and tossed it back to her.

  “Let me guess . . . Rodney?”

  “Dad? What’s wrong?”

  I was having no part of it. “Hilary, I’ll ask the questions here. I believe yes or no answers will suffice. Got it?”

  She nodded.

  “Were you kissing Rodney in the park today?”

  “Just a—”

  “Yes or no?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did you curse at Stacy? Something along the lines of ‘stay the fuck away from me?’”

  Hilary swallowed hard. “Yes, after—”

  “Quiet! The park is not an appropriate make out spot, not that there is such a place. Stacy said your bra was off, and you were damn near having sex right there. Even worse, you left your sister alone, and she was off talking to some old guy!”

  Her eyes grew wide, and then she scowled. “That’s a lie! That’s not what happened!”

  “You are not to leave this house or talk to Rodney by phone, email, IM, text . . . hell, not even a fax. Do I make myself clear?”

  Tears formed in Hilary’s eyes as she turned away from me and stared out the window.

  “So you don’t want to hear my side of it?” she muttered. “You don’t want to hear the truth?”

  “I asked you a question, Hilary.”

  “You told me to be quiet,” she snapped. “Now you want me to talk? Make up your mind. Or do you need to call Stacy so she can make it up for you?”

  “Okay, your one month restriction just went up to two.”

  “Make it until I move out; I really don’t care,” she said. “Close my door when you leave.”

  I stood staring at Hilary. I had come full circle; my emotions ranged from anger to confusion and sadness. I knew all too well how tough the last year had been for everyone. I somehow felt responsible for this whole thing. If I hadn’t asked about Stacy moving in, this probably wouldn’t be happening. Hilary was rebelling. I knew that. Maybe I had been too damn selfish about the whole thing.

  I closed Hilary’s door and walked into my bedroom. I found Karen lying in my bed watching cartoons.

  “Daddy, I heard you yelling at Hilary. I don’t want to talk about what happened at the park today. Is that okay?”

  “That’s fine, Karen. We can talk about it later. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  I climbed in bed with my little angel, cuddled up, and held her tight.

  After Karen fell asleep, I got up to check my email. I wanted to see if De Luca had come across anything new. I grabbed my laptop and logged in. The first thing I saw was an email from Hilary. I could only imagine what it would say. To my surprise it was short and sweet—well . . . not sweet, exactly, but short.

  “Dad, is this
what I can expect if Stacy moves in? If so, I may have to take my chances elsewhere. Good night.”

  I had some soul-searching to do. I didn’t want to lose my daughters. I needed to decide if this whole thing with Stacy was real or just a live-in booty call, as the kids called it. I didn’t believe in coincidence or happen-stance. Had Stacy been following the girls? Was that the real story if so it meant Stacy had lied to me. And as it turned out Hilary’s park make out was brought to light because of it. So maybe it was a good thing.

  I couldn’t decide if I’d over-reacted with Hilary or if it was just what she needed in order to snap out of it. I was starting to feel like I should do my own background investigation on Stacy. She’d however been a teenage girl and her gut had been right maybe she was just what I needed to help out with the girls.

  41

  I rolled over toward the window. The blinds had a crack in them, and the sun was beaming in full-force. Stacy was supposed to come over to begin her weekend stay today. I hadn’t talked to her since she and Hilary had gotten into it at the park. I figured I should talk to Hilary to see if it was worth even trying our little experiment or not.

  I took care of my morning business, dressed, and walked down the hall to Hilary’s room. Her door was ajar. I knocked on it.

  “Hilary?”

  “What, Dad?”

  “Wake up. I want to talk to you.”

  I stepped into her room and sat down at the foot of her bed.

  Hilary slowly rolled over, but she didn’t sit up or even make eye contact with me. She kept a pillow over her head and gave me a thumbs-up.

  “Look, I’m sorry I came down so hard on you the other night,” I said. “You know we made a statement regarding your mom’s case the other day. Remember when I told you someone had sent us a note saying your mom was still alive?”

  She nodded. The kids had taken it hard at first, but I’d decided they’d be better off hearing about it from me than some kid in school, especially since we’d held a press conference.