Twisted Freedom

by J Grayland

  Flipping through the pages, I was glad that she wrote the dates at the top of them because I knew exactly what I was looking for; what I had always wanted to know. I knew it when I picked this diary out of that box and put it in my suitcase. I needed to know about that date. And there it was, staring right at me: March 3, 2000. The day I was taken.

  3rd March 2000

  I’m not sure if this is something that I should be writing in this journal, but I think for my own sanity, it’s something that I need to do. The other day, I arrived home to an empty house. I languished in the peace of it. That is, until David asked me where our daughter was at the dinner table. Catherine has been old enough for quite some years now to take care of not only herself, but the upkeep of the house, as well. After all, she needs to learn how to earn her keep, and the earlier she realizes that nothing is free in this world, the better. But today, she did not come home for dinner, and David was furious with the child. At last, he sees how ungrateful she really is, but I left him with his fury and retired to bed. I have a busy day tomorrow, and I will not be losing any sleep over a 14-year-old who has decided to stay out all night with her friends.

  5th March 2000

  I stayed at the office longer than normal today just to enjoy some peace and quiet for just a little longer. I just cannot face going home and any more of David’s incessant ranting and insistence that somehow it is my fault that the child is still not home and that I need to do something.

  6th March 2000

  When I arrived home this evening, I was ready for another night of arguments. Instead, I found David accompanied by two police officers, and I watched the color slowly drain from my husband’s face as they told us that Catherine was seen getting into a car and they were treating it as suspicious. Apparently, David had felt guilty and called them. The stupid man. He is going to look rather silly when she turns up in a few days time having done God knows what with God knows who. I really hope no one saw the police here. That’s all we need; a scandal, fodder for the community gossip.

  7th March 2000

  This will be my last entry into this diary, and then I intend on tossing into the fireplace, but before I do, I need to get something off my chest because I will not be taking this to church and into confessional like I should do. I know that God sees all, and I know he will see my words and grant my forgiveness. Today, I received a phone call from a man who claimed to have taken our daughter. He demanded a ludicrous amount of money for her return. He could have been anyone, and I asked for some kind of validation that he had her, which he supplied a few minutes later with one whispered word down the phone line. “Mother.” I did discuss what was said in the phone call with both David and the police. The police agreed with my decision not to pay anything, but David was unsure, and when the caller called me again the next day, I told him that we would not be paying any ransom money. He became very angry and abusive, and let me know that if I didn’t pay him what he wanted, we would never see our daughter again. I told him I didn’t care what he did with her, although I kept this small part of the call to myself. The police have advised us to stay away from the press and let them do their job. They have told us that in ninety percent of these types of abductions, if there is no money, they won’t keep the abductee. What puzzles me the most is that my husband is clearly not happy with the situation, but in time, I’m sure he will come to realize that this is truly a blessing, and I am sure that the child will be dumped off somewhere and hopefully find her own way in life and not come back here. Now I feel that my conscience has been cleared, and at last,after much sacrifice, I can have my life back.

  I flipped over the last few pages, but they were all blank. Closing the diary, I just stared at it, amazed that this woman ever existed. She actually thought that by writing it down that she would be forgiven? Didn’t she realize that on that date, she sealed my fate? Forever? My stomach rolled as bile started to rise into my throat, making me swallow hard to get it back down as my mind whirred into overdrive. This woman obviously had some kind of mental disorder, because no normal person would think like her about a child, would they? Closing my eyes and leaning my head against the back of the couch, I tried to reel in the downpour of emotions and thoughts that were running through my mind, and thankfully, I was saved by the tiny, soft whimper of a beautiful little angel who was sitting in her car seat, now wide awake, with her huge blue eyes focused on me. Getting up, I lifted her into my arms, feeling her warmth against my chest, stroking the back of her head, as I look into her eyes. “Hey, beautiful girl. You woke up just at the right time,” I said, sniffing back the threatening tears as I softly placed a kiss on the top of her head.

  Chapter Forty-one

  Nate

  Pressing the button on my phone, I let Laura know that she could come in and collect the papers I had just spent over an hour signing. A few minutes later, she entered, briskly walking to the front of my desk. Handing her the file with a, “Thank you,” she exited, and I turned off my computer. Leaning back in my chair, I rubbed a hand over my face, feeling a sense of relief and calm that Paxton and I had talked this morning. For me, it cleared the path to have another talk with him about me spending less time in the office and more time out in the field. Spending all day cooped up behind a desk was starting to feel a little confining, and I had no intention of leaving Casey for any amount of time, so there would be no private contracts or overseas trips. I just wanted to have some time out among our clients, being more hands-on with advice and setting up security.

  I just wanted to find some way to split my time between the office and being out and involved in the business for my own sanity’s sake. Standing up, I pushed my chair under my desk and pocketed my phone. Grabbing the keys for the Audi, I left the office and headed down to the garage. As I opened the car door, my phone started to vibrate in my pocket. When I pulled it out, I saw Lynda’s name flashing on the screen.

  “Hey, what’s a pretty momma like you doing calling me? Isn’t Paxton home yet?” I asked her.

  “Yeah, he’s taking a shower,” she said, but there was something strange in her tone.

  “What’s up?”

  “It’s probably nothing, but Casey had Emily over at your place today while I ran an errand.”

  “Okay.” I dragged out the word slowly, wondering where this conversation was going.

  “When I picked Emily up, Casey seemed to be acting a little…strange.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know exactly. It might just be nothing, but she was different this afternoon than she was when I dropped the baby off.”

  “Did she say anything to you?”

  “No, but that’s what’s bugging me, Nate. On the outside, she appeared happy and smiling, but it seemed…forced, if that makes sense?”

  “I see,” I said, being careful to hide the concern in my voice.

  “Look, it’s probably nothing, I just wanted you to know, okay?” Lynda’s voice flooded the line with light heartedness, but I could still hear her worry.

  “That’s okay. I’m just about to get into the car and head home anyway.”

  “Great, that’s good. Just send me a text and let me know that everything’s alright, will you? Or I will be up all night with it on my mind.”

  “Sure thing. Thanks, Lynda,” I said, ending the call.

  I drove just a little bit over the speed limit on the way home. I did shoot Casey a quick text before pulling out of King Security to let her know that I was on my way. She texted me back with her usual red love heart emoji, so I thought that maybe Lynda was worried over nothing, but just to be sure, I wanted to get back as quickly as possible, preferably without a ticket.

  Pulling into the driveway half an hour faster than normal, I noticed that the house was dark as I drove toward it. Not a single light was on inside at all. Coming to a stop out the front and getting out, I pressed the key fob for th
e car to lock over my shoulder as I took the front stairs two at a time and pushed my key into the front door. Entering, I dropped my phone and keys into the glass bowl at the entry and made my way down the hall, checking the rooms as I went until I reached the living area and the kitchen. All the lights were out, and the house was eerily quiet, apart from the sound of the ocean coming in from outside.

  Turning on the lamp in the living room and walking to the tri-fold glass doors that were fully opened, I walked out onto the deck and leaned against the rail. There, in the middle of the beach, was a roaring fire. It wasn’t a huge fire, but the flames were pretty high. Chance was laying curled up on one side, and Casey sat on the other side of the fire pit, her arms wrapped around her bent knees. Relief flooded through my body with a relieving sigh that nothing seemed to be wrong. She looked alright from here. Stepping down the stairs and onto the beach, I pushed my hands into the pockets of my jeans and started to walk toward her with a smile. I was just about to admonish her for starting a fire on a private beach when my words caught in my throat as I saw her face. I’d seen that look of pain and foreboding before, that empty, lost look. Her eyes were glassy and red and staring straight into the flames in front of her. I could tell she’d been crying, and that was not something that this woman did easily. When I got to the fire pit, she didn’t even look up at me.

  “Baby?” I cautiously said, but still nothing. Chance got up and came to me, wagging his tail with excitement. I scratched behind his ears while keeping my eyes directly on Casey.

  “Casey?” I said a little louder, causing her to look up at me. Her eyes were so wide I could see the reflection of the flames dancing in them.

  “What are you doing, baby?” I asked, and she just stared at me for a moment before she spoke.

  “I’m having a funeral, and this,” she said as she motioned to the fire pit, “is my crematorium.” She held out a brown, leather bound book that looked oddly familiar. I quickly scanned my memory for where I had seen it before, and then it hit me like a lightning strike. It was the book that was in the box that we collected from her childhood home back in Sydney.

  Chapter Forty-two

  Casey

  Earlier that afternoon

  After feeding and changing Emily, I took her out onto the back deck. The sun had disappeared, and the sky was full of slightly gray-looking clouds. Sitting down in one of the deck chairs, I cuddled and chatted away to her. My mouth was engaged on our conversation and her gurgles, but my brain was starting to drift a little, and I needed to pull myself together until Lynda came back, which thankfully was sooner rather than later. We were still sitting out on the back deck when she stepped out onto it.

  “Hi! Sorry, I’m a little late,” she said.

  “No, its fine. We’ve had a great time, haven’t we, beautiful girl?” I cooed at Emily before placing a kiss on her forehead. “How did it go?” I asked her.

  “Great, they were really impressed and enthusiastic.” She smiled with pride.

  “And they should be. You’re a great artist. They should be honored.”

  “Well, thank you for the support, but we’ll see what happens. At least it’s a start, right?” she said holding her hands out to Emily, who immediately went to her mom. “I hope you were a good girl for Aunty Casey,” Lynda cooed sweetly to Emily.

  “She was perfect, as usual. I’ll get her things together for you,” I said, getting up and walking into the living room to pick up her blanket and toys, which were still spread out over the floor where we had been playing earlier. Placing everything into the baby bag and zipping it up, I looked up to find Lynda staring at me.

  “Are you alright?” she asked.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, you look completely drained. I hope Emily didn’t wear you out.”

  “Not at all, just feeling really tired today for some reason,” I said, rubbing a hand over my face in an effort to look more awake than I was feeling.

  “I hope you’re not coming down with something. I’ve heard there’s a stomach flu going around,” Lynda said.

  “I’m sure it’s more from not getting enough sleep. I stayed up late last night, talking to Flynn for ages,” I said, waving off her concerns.

  “Oh, okay. How is he?”

  “He’s good. Busy as always, but he’s hoping to come over for a visit soon.”

  “Sounds good, I can’t wait to meet him.”

  “You and Paxton will love him,” I said, smiling.

  “Okay, well, I had better get this little lady home for a bath, and you should crash on the couch for a snooze. You look wasted,” she said, grinning.

  “Yeah, I will,” I assured her, then walked with her out the front door and to her car, where she clipped in the baby seat and turned to give me a hug.

  “Hey, do you want to do dinner Saturday? My house?” she said.

  “Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

  “Okay, see you around seven then. And thanks for today, Casey.”

  “No problem. Anytime,” I said as I waved at Emily in the back seat, then watched as they drove away.

  Walking back inside, I dropped onto the couch and curled up, pulling the rug that hung over the back of it down to cover me. My eyes closed with an exhausted heaviness, and I sank into sleep.

  I woke startled, sitting up with a gasp, pushing my hair away from my face. I quickly looked around the living room, a little disorientated for a few minutes, until I realized where I was. Looking at the time on my phone, I saw that I’d been asleep for just over two hours, and the whole time, my sleep was marred by a disturbing dream of a jumbled mixture of images from my childhood up until today. But the one picture that kept flashing into my dream was that of my mother’s diary. Not her face, because truthfully, I have never been able to picture her face in detail. I think it’s because I hardly ever saw her and what few times I did, she was always scowling or angry. She pretty much scared the hell out of me for as long as I could remember. Getting up, I started to pace around the room, trying to get rid of the turmoilof thoughts in my head. Chance followed behind me, tilting his head and looking at me curiously every time I stopped. Looking up, I spotted the bottle of scotch in the corner on the bench in the kitchen. Grabbing it, I filled a glass almost to the rim with the pungent liquid before taking a large gulp. The burn of it sliding down my throat was repulsive, but the warmth when it hit my belly and spread had a slight comforting effect, so I took another slug, draining the glass, and poured another one. By the time I’d finished that one, my body felt loose and relaxed, and my head fuzzy and numb. Just what I was aiming for.

  Pacing between the kitchen and the living area, I stopped and gazed at the book sitting on the coffee table for a moment before continuing my pacing. The sun had just gone down, and the house was dark. I stood out on the back deck just looking out as the moon cast it’s light on the ocean, and then it hit me. I needed to get rid of this book permanently. I never wanted to see it again. Grabbing the book, I searched through the kitchen drawers until I found a box of matches that Nate kept in there, he’d all but given up smoking, but I knew he still liked to have the occasional one now and then.

  “Bingo,” I said as my hand found what I was looking for. Making my way down the back stairs onto the sand, I scoured around the house for some kindling, and was lucky enough to find a pile of it stacked under the house. I took what I needed down to the middle of the beach, where I made myself a fire.

  It took some coaxing to get the flames going. Between the effects of the alcohol and blowing on the small flames to get the fire started, I made myself dizzy enough that it dropped me on my ass on the sand. By the time I had gotten my head to stop swimming, the flames of the fire were burning strong and steady.

  Gazing into the fire, Chance lay next to me. I wasn’t sure how long I sat there for, but I did know that somewhere deep in my mind, I heard a familiar voice saying my
name. I snapped out of my reverie, looking up into Nate’s wide eyes.

  “What are you doing, baby?” he asked, his tone low and cautious.

  “I’m having a funeral, and this is my crematorium”, I announced, holding up the diary and pointing to the fire with a slur in my voice.

  I watched as Nate’s eyes flickered back and forth between mine and the book that I held out, and I saw the minute he recognized it.

  “Baby,” he said, sadness flashing across his face.

  “Nope, this is not a time for sadness. It’s a time to celebrate,” I said, holding up a hand to stop him from coming any closer to me.

  “You’ve been drinking?”

  “I sure have, and do you want to know why? Because I needed a few drinks to read the shit that was in this diary,” I said, holding the book up higher.

  “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath.

  “Yep, that’s a fitting word for this disgusting account of a deranged woman’s thoughts.”

  “Your mom?” he asked.

  “Pfft, she wasn’t a mother, she was a monster. Do you know, she never wanted me from the minute she found out she was pregnant? She tried to get an abortion, but it was against my father’s religion. So she tried other ways to try to get rid of me. She drank, she exercised like crazy, she even wore a tight-fitting corset. I’m amazed she didn’t throw herself down the stairs. No, wait, she wouldn’t have done that because it might have left a mark on her precious face.”