Gone (Gone #1)

by Claflin, Stacy

  She climbed into bed, her hair still wet, and she relaxed. Her stomach was still queasy, but the alcohol had done the job of calming her nerves. Things didn't look as bad as they had before. She could see that there was no evidence of foul play, so she had reason to cling to hope that she would see Macy again.

  Alyssa closed her eyes and for the first time in a while, drifted off to sleep without any anxious thoughts haunting her.

  Clue

  The sun was shining into the room through the blinds. One ray of light made its way to Chad's eyes, waking him up. He rubbed his eyes and looked around. It was pretty bright, which meant that it had to be late morning. He looked over at Alyssa, sleeping soundly next to him.

  How odd that she was still sleeping. She had never been one to sleep in to begin with, always off to work out or something. Now that Macy was missing, she usually got up even earlier. He knew she hadn't been sleeping well. She tended to talk in her sleep—she had as long as he had known her—but it had been much worse over the last week.

  She had woken him up several times yelling out, though she hadn't managed to wake herself.

  He got up, put on some track pants and an old college sweatshirt, and went into the hall. Both Alex's door and the door to Macy's room, where Zoey slept, were still closed. Not that that was a surprise. He remembered sleeping well past noon often as a teenager.

  His stomach rumbled, so he went to the kitchen. He looked at the clock on the stove. It was almost eleven, which meant he may as well make lunch. He remembered the leftover lasagna. He would never be able to eat lasagna without guilt again. There was no way he was ever going to tell Alyssa about Lydia, but since he was never going to go back to her again, it didn't matter. The past was in the past.

  Chad grabbed the tinfoil-covered dish from the fridge and piled a huge piece onto a plate. He stuck it in the microwave and waited. He looked through the fridge for something to drink. He was too awake for coffee, which was his usual morning fuel. Milk? No, it gave him gas. He didn't want to spend the whole day farting. Juice? Too sweet. Beer? Bingo.

  He grabbed a bottle and opened it up just as the microwave beeped. He sat down with his lasagna and beer. The breakfast of champions. It was perfect, actually. Once he got to the middle of his food, it was cold, so he had to put it back in for another couple of minutes. He finished the beer while he waited.

  Once the food was done, it was too hot. Stupid microwaves. He put the plate on a potholder and carried it to his office. He'd let it cool down while he checked the comments on his blog.

  His latest post had over two hundred new comments. Not surprising since he hadn't checked in a while. Had he even checked the day before?

  He read through the comments, answering each one. They were all typical as of late. Mostly condolences for what their family was going through. Those were easy enough to reply to. A simple thank you sufficed in most cases. Occasionally, someone had something special to say, and he needed to give it extra attention.

  He went through the rest of the comments on the post and then checked for other new comments on other posts. There were about eighty other comments to answer. After he was done with that, he needed to write a new post. People would stop checking if he didn't update soon.

  Once he had replied to the last comment, he checked all the local news blogs. They all mentioned the bloody clothes. Each one of them made it sound like there was a lot more blood than there actually was. He checked a couple of the national news sites, and they both said the same thing.

  Oddly enough, none of his blog comments had mentioned it, so the news must have just been released.

  He opened up a new post and let his fingers do the talking. He let the public know everything that he did. Yes, they found Macy's clothes covered in blood, but it wasn't nearly enough to be deadly. He suspected a cut, and would believe that until other evidence proved otherwise.

  Before hitting publish, he went through pictures on his computer. Family pictures brought in a lot more visitors, and he wanted everyone to know the truth. He uploaded a dozen pictures, all including Macy, from the last ten years or so. People couldn't get enough of that.

  Chad hit publish and then checked the live post. Even though he always previewed it first, he sometimes managed to catch errors that he'd missed. This one looked good.

  Not only did he have high numbers, but he had a program showing how many times his content was shared, and his posts were getting shared thousands of times each week. That wasn't even counting all the re-blogs, which he didn't have time to track.

  He refreshed the page and saw there were already comments. People had to have been sitting on his site, waiting for the latest bit of news. It was a good thing he had already upgraded his hosting to handle all the traffic.

  Leaning back in his chair, he stretched. He would read the comments later. He needed to get his mind off everything. The worry and guilt ate away at his stomach. As much as he wanted to spend every waking minute focused on finding Macy, he needed breaks from it all.

  It made him feel like a first-class jerk, but he knew that he was no good to anyone if he didn't take breaks. He went upstairs and found that he was still the only one awake. He ran a brush and some gel through his hair and headed outside for a walk.

  He walked mindlessly through the neighborhood, purposefully avoiding the park. The last thing he wanted was to run into anyone, and as much as he appreciated everyone's efforts with the search parties, he couldn't do it right then. Maybe he could find a clue wandering through the neighborhood.

  Eventually Chad's calves felt sore. He was going up an incline, and looked around to see where he was. He'd been so lost in his thoughts, he hadn't been paying any attention. The way the roads were set up, he was actually heading back home. It would take him longer to get there if he turned around.

  "Is that you, Chad?"

  Turning around, he prepared himself. He knew that voice anywhere. "Lydia."

  She had dirt on her knees and held clippers. "What are you doing over here?"

  "Just trying to clear my head."

  "I like to get outside for that myself. Even though we have a landscaper, I like to come out and work on the rose bushes."

  "They look great. I should get home, though. I'm sure my family will be waking up soon."

  "You look thirsty. Want to come in for a drink?"

  "I really shouldn't."

  "Well, let me bring something out for you. You need to take care of yourself."

  "Lydia, I—"

  "Just let me grab something. I know what you like."

  "Okay." He sighed.

  She came back with two of his favorite diet sodas and handed him one.

  "Thanks." Chad didn't realize how thirsty he was until he started drinking. He had finished the entire thing in a couple gulps.

  Lydia smiled at him. "See? I knew you were thirsty."

  He nodded. "I appreciate it. Really, though, I should get going."

  She took his empty bottle and held his eye contact. "If you need anything, anything at all, don't be afraid to ask. I'll do anything for you."

  "You've done plenty. We all enjoyed the lasagna, even though we were upset about the news."

  She nodded, and then stepped closer. "Are your needs being met? I've always been able to—"

  "I told you, I'm working things out with Alyssa."

  "Of course. But after speaking with her, it's obvious that she's consumed with grief. It would help you to talk with someone neutral. Our heart-to-heart discussions are second to none." She stepped even closer.

  Chad swallowed, still looking her in the eyes. He couldn't deny what she said, but that was the problem. If he opened himself to her he would put his relationship with Alyssa on the line. He would destroy his family.

  "Chad?" Lydia put her hand on his.

  Some of her hair fell into her face. Without thinking, Chad reached out to brush it behind her ear.

  "What do you say?" Her voice was soft, and he could feel her
breath on his face. She smelled sweet, even though she had been out doing yard work. "Come inside and tell me everything."

  His breath caught, and for a moment he considered taking her up on the offer. Alyssa and the kids didn't deserve this. He needed to give Alex a good home life now more than ever. And Macy…he didn't want her coming back to a broken family, which is what would eventually happen if he didn't stay away from Lydia. He couldn't have both, and he knew it.

  "Well?"

  Chad stepped back. "Lydia, you're a sweet person. It kills me that Dean can't see that, but I need to be there for my family—all of them. Thanks again for the drink."

  Disappointment washed over her face.

  "I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."

  She nodded, and then waved. "You know where to find me."

  Surprise

  Alyssa woke up, unsure if the pounding came from her head or outside somewhere. The light was blinding and it hurt—a lot. She needed some powerful painkillers. With any luck, her stomach would be able to handle them. After throwing up the previous night, she was certain there was nothing left in her stomach to worry about vomiting.

  Maybe she should eat something first. Aspirin on an empty stomach would cause more problems than she already had. She grabbed a bottle from the bathroom and headed down to the kitchen. She grabbed some frozen pancakes and put them in the microwave.

  The house was quiet. Chad was probably working on his blog and the kids were probably still sleeping. Not that she could blame them, especially after getting up so late herself.

  She had acted like an idiot the night before, running off and getting drunk. She hadn't done that since college, and even then it had been with friends. At this age, she was just pathetic. She needed to pull herself together. She'd already lost Macy—hopefully only for a time—and she needed to be there for Alex. He needed her more than ever, even though he acted tough.

  The microwave beeped, indicating the food was ready. She took the steaming plate out and set it on the counter while she started a pot of coffee. That would help her headache. She usually tried not to drink too much of it, but she also didn't usually drink fish bowls full of alcohol, either. How many had she had?

  Guilt hit her as she remembered the night before. What had she been thinking? What if Chad noticed her car was out of the garage? What would she tell him? The last thing she wanted to do was admit to the truth. He would understand drinking; he always kept beer in the fridge. But he didn't get drunk.

  He was practically the perfect husband, and she hadn't let herself see that in a long time. He not only worked a high-paying job so their family never lacked anything, but he put nearly as many hours into the blog. Never once did he ask her to even get a part-time job so he could focus on it. Instead, he spent countless hours working while she complained about him not caring.

  What had she been thinking?

  The front door opened. Had he gone somewhere? She pushed the brew button on the coffee pot and went to see. Their eyes met, and he held her gaze.

  "I needed some air, so I went for a walk."

  Alyssa nodded. "I made some coffee. Do you want some?"

  He wrapped his arms around her. "I love you. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you when you needed me."

  She hugged him back. "What do you mean?"

  "Before. You know, when things were normal. I was so busy, I never made any time for you or the kids."

  She leaned her head against his shoulder. "No. I'm sorry that I didn't appreciate all the work you were doing for our family. I haven't had to work in years, and yet you've worked so hard and asked for nothing in return."

  "I wouldn't say 'nothing.' And you've given much more than I ever stopped to notice as well. You take such good care of the kids, always going to their school events. I should have been there with you."

  "You were…sometimes."

  "That's not good enough."

  "I obviously didn't do that great of a job with the kids. Look what happened to Macy."

  Chad stepped back, looking her directly in the eyes. He cupped her face and held on. "That isn't your fault. We don't know what happened. Sure, we could have been less strict, but you know what? We were trying to protect them. We were doing our job. She's out there somewhere, and we'll find her. Together."

  Alyssa nodded. "Together."

  Tired

  Macy sat up in bed, gasping for air. She looked around the room, relieved to be there. She had dreamed of being back in the barn.

  The teddy bear was still gone. She wanted to hold it and smell her house, her real house. Would she ever see it again? Would she see her family again? She missed them so much it hurt.

  What she wouldn't have given to have Alex tease her, trying to rile her up. Who would have ever thought she would miss that? She would love nothing more than to walk into her dad's office and ask him about his blog. His face always lit up when he talked about page views and other stuff that Macy really didn't understand. She loved to see him excited. If she could, she would walk into her parents' room and for once, agree to go to the gym with her mom.

  Macy had always been worried that someone from school might see her and make fun of her. She would never live down her nickname, and she had been afraid that going to the gym would be like admitting all those jerks had been right.

  Now she might never have the chance to do that again. Any of it. Was her dad still working on his blog? Were they so worried about her that they weren't doing anything they loved? What did they think about the bloody clothes? Did they think she was dead? Would they really give up on her and move on? What if they moved away? How would she ever find them?

  Tears filled her eyes. She wiped them away. Even if she had to wait a few years to get away, she would find her parents as soon as she could.

  He couldn't have been more than fifty, if he was even that old. He looked older than her dad, but that didn't mean much. What if he was only forty-five? He could have a lot of years left in him. She didn't want to have to spend the next forty or fifty years with him.

  What exactly was he planning? Whatever it was, she had to go along with it or she would end up in worse shape than before. He made things worse on her each time. She didn't want to find out what could be worse than being tied up for days.

  If he wanted to her to become Heather, he had won. Just like a wild horse, she was broken. Whatever he said, she would do.

  Macy decided to look for the bear again, even though she doubted she would find it. It was probably in his room, along with the picture of her family. He had made his point more than clear. She wasn't going anywhere near his room ever again. She rubbed her wrists, which were still sore from the ties. Chester made her wear shirts with sleeves so long they nearly reached her knuckles so his parents wouldn't see the marks.

  Looking around the room, she tried to figure out where to look first. There was a pile of stuffed animals in a little toy hammock. That would be the obvious place to look, so it would be the last place. She continued to scan the room, and she stopped at the dresser. She had already gone through it, hoping to find better clothing options.

  For some reason she couldn't explain, she wanted to look there again. The teddy probably wouldn't fit in any of the drawers with all the clothes in there, but she couldn't shake the feeling, so she walked over to it. Starting with the top drawer, she went through each one, not finding the bear.

  Frowning, she closed the bottom drawer. Why had she been so sure she would find it? The drawer stuck halfway. She pushed harder, but it wouldn't budge. She stuck her hands in it, pushing all the clothes down. One of them was probably stuck and causing the problem.

  She pushed again, but it still wouldn't move. Something was blocking it, but it wasn't coming from inside the drawer. Could it be something under the drawer?

  Macy pulled the drawer out further and positioned herself so she could reach behind it. Something was back there. She felt it with her hand as best as she could. It almost felt like part of the dress
er. She managed to wrap her fingers around it. Was it another diary? Had Heather hidden one there, too?

  Scratching her hand along the way, she managed to pull it out of the drawer. It did look like a diary! Would this one tell her more than the last one had? Heather's mom had spent some time in the cellar, but what had happened to them? Where were they now?

  Macy leaned against the wall next to the dresser, so she would be hidden if Chester came in. She opened the book to the first entry.

  Mom still hasn't come back. I still don't know exactly what she meant when she said she had been at Grandma and Grandpa's barn. She didn't say farm, she said barn. Why would she be in their barn all that time? They love her. Grandma always says Mom's the daughter she never had. Why would they make her stay out in the barn? Couldn't they see what it did to her?

  I'll never know, because Dad won't let me call them. He took my cell phone away when he walked in on me calling them—he took it right out of my hand, ended the call, and removed the battery. Then he told me I'd never see it again. He said that would teach me to ask questions I had no business asking.

  No business? He's insane. Of course I have business asking questions. He should be asking questions too! Mom's missing and he doesn't even care. How can he not be worried? I'm so scared I've been throwing up. Not that he cares. I know he can hear me, but he acts like nothing's wrong.

  I even threw up a bunch of times at school and Sierra told Mr. Lee who took me to the school nurse. She called Dad and he told her I was fine. It was just a stomach bug. She told him I needed to go home, but Dad said he wouldn't authorize it. So the nurse had me stay in her office the rest of the day to keep an eye on me.

  She was asking all kinds of questions about my home life and I was being as vague as possible. After Dad's threats to stay quiet, I wasn't going to say anything.