Goodbye Forever

by Bonnie Hearn Hill

  ‘I have one of my own.’ Sissy spoke clearly.

  ‘No,’ Kit shouted, and ran beside her. ‘Don’t make her part of this.’

  Ike grabbed Kit’s wrist in a vise grip and pulled her back. ‘How many times do I have to tell you to shut up?’

  ‘Somebody turn up the music,’ Lucas said, and Theo sprinted toward the computer on Weaver’s patio table.

  ‘Don’t make her do this,’ Kit begged Ike. But it was too late. Sissy walked up to Weaver, holding her dart the way a child would hold a pencil for the first time.

  ‘You were bad to us,’ she said. ‘You gave me drugs.’

  ‘I tried to help you,’ Weaver sobbed. ‘I tried to help all of you.’

  ‘Give him the dart,’ Lucas told her.

  ‘Don’t do it,’ Kit begged Sissy. ‘Remember who locked you in that cooler. Remember that Lucas did that do you.’

  ‘Lucas did that?’

  ‘He’s worse than the Weasel. You need to break free. You can do it.’

  ‘I can?’ She seemed to think about it. Then she turned and hurled her dart into Lucas’s chest.

  He cried out in pain. Then he grabbed Sissy by the throat. She shrieked and sputtered, trying to catch her breath. Kit went for her just as Jessica did. They pried Lucas’s hands free, and Sissy clung to Jessica.

  ‘That’s enough.’ With one swing, Wyatt knocked Sissy and Jessica to the patio.

  ‘Good,’ Lucas said, his voice weak but free of emotion.

  ‘Wyatt, please.’ On the rough stones, Jessica lifted up her bloody palms.

  He ignored her and turned to Lucas, who was still gasping for breath. ‘Are you OK, man?’

  Lucas nodded. ‘Let’s finish it.’

  ‘Wyatt.’ Jessica grabbed his leg, but he kicked her free.

  Kit reached down and yanked up the knife case. Before anyone realized what she was doing, she ran back toward the house and tossed the case into the fire pit.

  For a moment, everyone stopped and stared at her.

  ‘No!’ Wyatt ran for the pit. ‘My knives!’ He fought the flames with his hands, and Jessica screamed. ‘My knives!’ Wyatt cried again. He perched on the pit’s edge as if he didn’t feel the heat, digging through the blaze.

  Lucas moved closer, not speaking, fascinated.

  ‘Help him,’ Kit told Ike.

  He didn’t budge.

  ‘I said help him.’

  Ike ran toward the pit and yanked Wyatt from it. Then he slammed him to the grassy area surrounding the patio. Wyatt looked stunned. He sat watching the flames as the horror of what had almost happened crept into his expression.

  ‘You’re done,’ Ike said. ‘All of you.’ Then, as they watched speechless, Ike unchained Weaver.

  ‘Wait,’ Lucas said. ‘Stop him.’

  No one moved.

  ‘Come on,’ Kit told Jessica. ‘Get Sissy.’

  ‘Where are you going?’ Angel demanded.

  ‘To find help.’

  ‘What about us? Theo and me.’ She had already distanced both of them from Wyatt and Lucas.

  ‘We’ll get you out of here as soon as we can,’ Kit told her.

  As Wyatt sobbed on the ground, and the flames leapt into the air, Lucas drew nearer the fire, smiling.

  ‘It will be OK,’ he said to everyone. To no one.

  Ike and Kit led a silent Jessica and Sissy into the woods. Behind them, Kit could hear only Wyatt’s moans interspersed with Mozart.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Ike still couldn’t get his thoughts together. Kit, Sissy, and Jessica rode with him to the bus station with Kit’s cop friend John Paul. The guy seemed to appear out of nowhere once Lucas had been arrested. Ike had always been the one to handle everything, and now he felt relief when he could do something as simple as take a nap.

  That’s what he had done this morning, just slept so hard and so heavy in the backseat of Kit’s friend’s big truck that he felt as if he were floating. Kit, not Katherine. She had always seemed different to Ike, and now he knew why. Her runaway story was an act. She was really a crime blogger trying to find her ex-husband’s niece. She’d found her, all right.

  Kit hugged him hard and gestured toward the station and the bus that waited for him. ‘You have my contact information. Let me know if you need anything.’

  ‘I will.’ He felt as if he should say more, though. ‘Police types like my dad – military types – we always have problems with authority. That’s where our trouble started. Then I met Lucas, and … well, you know.’

  ‘You stay safe, Ike,’ Kit said, and looked behind her at Jessica.

  Ike put out his hand. Jessica walked up to him, reached out for it, and then hugged him tightly.

  ‘You know how to reach me,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll be in touch.’ He hugged her again. ‘All we have now is each other.’

  Once he had settled into the stiff small seat of the bus, he realized he’d been wrong about what he had told Jessica. He had almost sounded like the Weasel. It wasn’t about having each other. No, it was a lot more complicated than that. It was about trust, about comfort.

  He thought about it as he finally felt relaxed enough to sleep.

  The bus jerked him back to life so late that he didn’t know if the light around the terminal was the blaze of an overhead fixture or the late-afternoon sunshine.

  His bag over his back, he let a few people get out ahead of him and stepped down. It was dark, all right. He must have needed the sleep.

  Kit had offered him money so that he could find a place to stay if he needed to. He couldn’t take it, though – not from a girl – and he confessed to her that he’d kept a little stash of his own. Turned out, Lucas had been so focused on withholding food from them that he hadn’t paid enough attention to the money.

  Ike started walking toward the taxis.

  Then he heard a commotion and saw a couple moving toward him. His dad still wore his uniform. His granny was dressed up in a dark skirt and her church blouse.

  Ike made himself as tall and serious as they were, even though the faster he walked, the more he felt the tears try to crowd out of his eyes. Pretty soon he was running, and they ran too, all three of them toward each other. Then, face to face, they stopped, out of breath. None of them seemed able to speak.

  Ike pulled back his shoulders. ‘Good to see you, sir,’ he said.

  His dad nodded. ‘You too, son.’

  ‘You got back just in time.’ His granny’s lips were tight, but he could see a trace of a smile there. ‘I got a roast in the oven and the makings for that hot chocolate you like,’ she said. ‘You best hurry up.’

  THIRTY-TWO

  Richard’s house smelled of apples.

  ‘Cider,’ he said as he let Kit in. ‘Mom thought Jessica might want something warm. She gave me careful instructions. You know how she is when she’s on a mission.’

  Kit had guessed his mother would drive there as soon as Richard called her with the news. Once the investigators finished speaking with Jessica, one of them would bring her to join her family, and their nightmare would be over. Almost.

  ‘Where’s your mom now?’ Kit asked Richard.

  He glanced toward the front window and its open blinds. ‘About ten minutes away, maybe closer. She said to tell you she says thank you, Kit.’

  That was a first.

  ‘I’m glad she’ll be here to help you and Jessica.’ It was the most honest response Kit could muster when all she wanted to do was burst into tears.

  ‘Guess I’d better check up on it. Come on.’

  Richard headed into his kitchen, and Kit followed. The usually spotless stove held a large pot of steaming cider. A loaf of partially sliced bread and assorted deli packages littered the tile counter. Richard picked up a spoon, dipped it into the pot, and offered it to her.

  The cider tasted as sweet and comforting as it smelled.

  ‘Perfect,’ she told him, and wondered how she could possibly explain to him what she and Jess
ica had just been through.

  ‘How is she?’ he asked.

  Kit closed her eyes and tried to come up with the most honest answer she could. ‘Tired,’ she finally said. ‘Confused. Scared. She’ll need patience, Richard, and I don’t know anyone better for that than you.’

  She handed the spoon back to him, and they stood there looking at each other. His hair gleamed as if he had just washed it, and Kit could smell the spicy soap he had showered with mingling with the scent of the apples. She would do it again, she knew. She would do all of it just to find that girl and bring her back to him.

  ‘I can’t believe this has happened.’ He seemed to swallow back whatever else he was going to say and finally added, ‘I’ll never forget what you did for me, Kit.’

  ‘And I’ll never forget how you stood by me last year.’

  That’s all they could say to each other just then – all either of them was ready to, at this point, she guessed. But Kit knew that when she looked back one day, she would think of this moment in his kitchen – with the smell of cider everywhere – as the end.

  ‘If you like, you can stay and have dinner with us,’ he said.

  ‘I need to get some rest, Richard.’

  ‘Of course.’ He held out his arms, spoon and all.

  Kit hugged him tightly. She pressed her cheek against his beating heart. Then she reached up and took his face in her hands. Richard’s eyes were wet, but he was smiling.

  A car pulled up in front of the house, motor running.

  ‘Jessica,’ he shouted, and his eyes filled with joy. ‘She’s here!’

  He ran for the front door, and Kit followed. Once there, she glanced back for a final look at his home. Later, she would have to sort out her pain from her gratitude. Right now, Kit had only enough energy to follow Richard outside and watch as he and Jessica stood facing each other in the driveway. Until that moment, Kit had never thought of Jessica as frail. Now, in spite of her height, the young woman looked fragile and delicate.

  ‘Uncle Rich?’ In just a few steps, Jessica was in his arms, and all three of them were crying.

  As Kit drove away a few minutes later, Richard and Jessica were still hugging and gleefully interrupting each other’s sentences. They would be OK now because they both had found what they had lost.

  Kit stopped at the corner and looked back at his house, a soft glow of light spilling out on to the street. Too tired. She was too tired to think or feel anymore tonight. First she needed sleep, and then she would take one final step to make sure Richard’s family was safe.

  The apartment door stood open. Coming outside in her yellow tunic and black tights, Sarah looked like a bright beam of color against the dim sky. The big guy with her carried a white-wicker lawn chair in each hand and carefully placed each one into the back of the waiting truck.

  Sarah spotted her and hurried to the sidewalk where Kit stood.

  ‘Thank you for coming. I’ve been meaning to call you. Let’s go inside.’

  ‘You’re moving?’ Kit asked.

  ‘Dan has a job in Vegas.’ She flushed with pride. ‘He’s my new guy. Produce manager for a supermarket. I might get on part-time, too.’

  ‘You’ve given up looking for Jessica?’

  ‘I can’t wait here forever. Let me know if you hear anything.’ She looked up, her expression tense. ‘You will, won’t you?’

  ‘That’s why I’m here.’ Kit had thought this would be easy, thought it wouldn’t bring back too many memories. ‘Actually, I found your daughter.’

  ‘You did?’ Sarah’s heavily made-up expression went from faked bliss to panic. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Far away from you,’ Kit said. ‘If you ever try to locate her, we will fight you with everything we have.’

  Sarah’s dark eyes flickered, and Kit could see her trying to figure out what kind of trouble she was in. ‘We?’

  ‘Jessica and I. She told me why you put her in that camp.’

  Sarah stepped back as if trying to decide her best way to attack. ‘She’s lying.’

  ‘And Doctor Weaver? Is he lying too? He knew Jessica didn’t belong there.’

  ‘Keep it down.’ Sarah jerked her head toward the door. ‘Dan doesn’t know anything about that.’

  ‘Maybe it’s time he knows what kind of woman he’s involved with.’

  ‘Don’t you judge me.’ Tears filled her eyes, but her expression grew even harder. She closed the front door and marched up to Kit until she was inches from her face. ‘You have no idea what my life was like, trying to raise that girl on my own, a dead father who never would have helped anyway. Every time I looked at her, I saw that miserable bastard.’

  ‘You don’t have to explain to me,’ Kit said. ‘But if you come around again, I’ll make sure everyone knows the truth.’

  ‘Sarah.’ The guy pounded on the front door. ‘Come on. Hurry up.’

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said, in a voice so low she might be talking to herself. ‘Don’t you ever try to find me. Tell Jessica I’m dead.’

  Kit’s frantic heartbeat made it difficult to speak. ‘Jessica already knows that,’ she said.

  ‘Sarah,’ the guy yelled again.

  She glared at Kit, her eyes a mixture of anger and pain. Then she ran to the door.

  Kit knew she needed to tell John Paul about Jessica and Sarah that afternoon as they drove to the shelter, where he would do the final interview for his segment on runaways.

  He had turned out to be a natural reporter on the air, probably better than she was. His serious, professional manner, combined with Farley’s passion, made the segment snap with energy. His contacts had already come through. In the time Kit had been gone, he had uncovered important information about one of their cases.

  Kit turned on the seat beside him and thought how different this truck was from Ike’s pickup.

  ‘Whenever you’re ready.’ His smile lit his light brown eyes, and for the first time since she had entered the world of runaway kids, Kit felt safe.

  ‘I couldn’t take Jessica back to her mother, John Paul.’

  ‘So that’s it.’

  ‘That’s it.’

  ‘Well, you’re not law enforcement.’ He glanced over at her with that expression she had once feared, the one that always seemed to delve below the surface. ‘As long as no crime’s being committed.’

  ‘It should be a crime to shove your daughter into a psychologist’s study for disturbed kids in order to earn a little cash while you keep her away from your current boyfriend.’

  He exhaled and shook his head. ‘Jessica’s of legal age now, right? Tell me she is.’

  Kit started to lie but then met his gaze with a shrug. ‘Almost.’

  ‘Like in a year? Two years?’

  ‘Not that bad. Next month.’

  ‘That’s a relief.’ They drove in silence. Finally, he said, ‘So where’d you hide her?’

  ‘You know me pretty well.’

  ‘Not well enough apparently. Where’s the girl? Please say she isn’t at your place.’

  Kit couldn’t help grinning because for a moment she had considered it. ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘Not your mom’s?’

  ‘No. Jessica is staying with Richard while he helps her find the resources to live on her own.’

  ‘Just Richard?’ he asked.

  She nodded and looked away. ‘Just Richard. And his mom will be with them for a while.’ When John Paul didn’t respond, she added, ‘He’s the only family Jessica has, and he’ll take care of her for now.’

  ‘What makes you think the mother won’t find out where Jessica is?’

  ‘She doesn’t want her.’ Kit’s voice trembled. ‘And you and Farley can cover anything about the camp you want to on the segment as long as you keep the kids’ names out of it. I’d love to see Weaver exposed.’

  ‘Why won’t you and Farley cover it?’ he asked. ‘Now that you’re back, it’s your segment.’

  ‘I think I’m going to take a break fr
om radio.’

  ‘But you and Farley are a team.’

  ‘So are you guys, and you’re a good one.’ She stared out at the passing cars. ‘Besides, writing about these cases isn’t enough now. I want to do more.’

  ‘Ah, so you want to be a rescuer.’ His expression switched to borderline smug. ‘Do you know what all rescuers want more than anything, Doyle?’

  ‘To save themselves?’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘So you’ve figured out that part too.’ His tone was softer, almost tender. ‘That’s a plus.’

  ‘I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I guess you have.’

  Kit thought about what Richard had told her that day she met Sarah, about looking at a rose and seeing the garbage, yet looking at the garbage and seeing the rose. That was what had happened to her with these kids. She had seen both sides of that complicated equation, and, if she had a choice, she would never again deal with anything that mattered at arms’ length.

  By the time John Paul finished his interview with the shelter director, it was close to five o’clock. Clouds had hid the sunlight most of the day, and Kit knew it would be an early night. Again, she thought of the kids staying here, those on the street, and those who were hidden in places she couldn’t begin to imagine.

  In her bag, she had brought cash that she planned to donate to the shelter, but she felt awkward just pulling it out as if she could pay for having a life that kept her out of places like that. Better and far less emotional just to make an anonymous electronic donation.

  They stepped outside and headed for the parking lot. Kit had learned to walk to the rhythm of John Paul’s uneven gait, and she could tell he was more at peace than he had been since they met. Perhaps he had come to terms with being unable to work in law enforcement, or maybe he saw the good he could do where he was.

  Several homeless girls gathered around a pile of blankets in a storefront. At least they were close to the shelter. If the wind and their luck blew the right direction, they would probably be safe tonight.