Chapter 21: Haley

 

Wednesday, July 15th

 

With the highway stretched before me, I couldn’t comprehend how thirty miles could feel so unbelievably endless. In fact, in the two weeks since I finally heard from my dad and insisted that he meet with me, my grasp on the passage of time had disappeared, to be replaced by a jumble of hours and days that were nothing but a blur. I still wasn’t quite sure how I had made it through my shifts without a major mishap and was thankful that all the waiting, worrying, and wondering was nearly over.

After pulling into the gravel lot nearest the trailhead where I was meeting my dad in twenty minutes, I put Noah’s car in park and tried to relax. Since I was automatically scheduled to work Wednesdays, I’d asked Noah to cover my shift and borrow his car. He must have seen the desperation in my eyes, because he’d taken advantage of the situation and agreed on one condition. One very big condition.

I still can’t believe I let him convince me to perform at open mic night, I thought, groaning. Foolishly, I must have given him the idea by unwittingly singing along with the radio at work.

Tempted to sit there and obsess over my upcoming performance, I forced my thoughts back to more immediate concerns. I was filled with so many emotions warring to take over, I didn’t know which one would ultimately override the others. Would I be happy when I finally saw my dad? Angry? Relieved? Elated? I honestly didn’t know.

Grabbing the small bag I’d packed with lunch and bottled water, I got out of the car and checked the posted trail map. When I estimated that our meeting place was only a half-mile away, I suddenly felt a zing of energy flow through me, and I picked up my feet, needing to be there as soon as possible.

Rounding a bend, I made out the figure of a man with his back to me in the distance ahead, and my heart leapt to my throat. I didn’t need to clearly see his features to recognize my dad; his stance alone gave him away. Without a second thought, I ran toward him, holding my bag against my side. I wanted to call out, but I couldn’t seem to find my voice.

Seconds before I reached him, he finally turned around, and a joyous smile lit his face. I dove into his arms, and he pulled me in tight, softly saying my name. Tears that I hadn’t even realized were falling soaked his shirt as I held on. His embrace felt both familiar and foreign, his arms and chest bulkier than I remembered. At least I know one thing he’s been doing since he left me, I thought bitterly. Working out.

When I pulled away, I wiped at my damp cheeks and studied my dad carefully. His hazel eyes were the same, but I noticed more fine lines surrounding them and a few new glints of silver running through his dark hair. He had even grown out his facial hair, a full beard replacing his usual scruff.

He seemed to be assessing me just as closely, and a faint smile touched his lips as he tugged on the end of my braid. “Going for the goth look now?”

I rolled my eyes. “Black hair dye alone does not a goth make, mountain man. And, seriously, we haven’t seen each other in almost a year, and the first thing you say to me is about my hair?” I asked, my tone laced with exasperation.

He chuckled, but his expression grew serious. “Would you believe that I’m nervous?”

“You? Nervous?”

“Yes,” he responded almost sheepishly. “I’ve been worried that you hate me now. Not that I would blame you.”

I gave him another hug. “I could never hate you. But, you have some serious explaining to do.”

“I know.” He gestured to a trail veering off the main path. “I thought we could go on a hike to a nearby lake. It’s a simple five-mile loop and should be very private.”

“Sure. Sounds good.”

Dad picked up a backpack and started down the narrow dirt trail. I followed behind, trying to pull my thoughts together. Now that I’d gotten over the initial jolt of seeing him again, the anger and fear that had been simmering below the surface for so many months began to bubble up.

“Are you going to tell me where you’ve been?” I asked suddenly, harshly.

He halted, then turned to me, his expression pained. “I’m so sorry. I messed up. I should have prepared you better for something like that happening, established a safe place for you to run to.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I should have known.”

“Do you even know what happened?”

“Some of it.” His gaze sharp, he asked, “Do you?”

I sighed. Where to even begin? While we walked, I slowly described everything that happened that day from my perspective. My panic at hearing the explosion and then finding our house in flames, not knowing whether he was still inside. When I got to the part about waking up in a cabin with strange men, I watched my dad warily, unsure how he would react when I explained the guys. How much should I tell him? I wondered.

Deciding to gloss over some of their more incriminating actions, I told him why the guys were involved in the whole mess and how much they’d helped me.

“Then you moved to Santa Cruz with them?”

I was so focused on avoiding the kidnapping part of the story, it took a few moments for his question to sink in. “How do you know about Santa Cruz?” The shock in my voice was tinged with anger. Dad knew where I was the entire time? Impossible.

“Does El Segundo mean anything to you?” he asked.

I nodded. “Gerald Douglas tracked you to a motel there, and Knox and Ethan went after you, but you were already gone.”

“I wasn’t. Gone, that is.” He stretched his neck, something he did unconsciously when deep in thought. “I knew I risked exposure with what I was doing in El Segundo and was being extra cautious. So, when I got back to the motel to find two men walking out of the office who reeked of law enforcement or some type of security, I took notice. I snuck up behind them and heard your name; they were discussing what to tell you and both seemed pretty upset.”

Shaking his head ruefully, he said, “I came really close to confronting them and demanding an explanation for how they knew you, but I had no idea who they were and couldn’t chance it. They sounded worried about you, so it didn’t seem like they were an immediate threat to you, at least. I found a business card they left with the front desk and started researching Zenith while watching them from afar over the next few days.” He sighed, and his expression let me know that I wouldn’t like what he said next. “When it was clear that they’d left the area, I went to San Jose.”

I gasped. “You were in San Jose? Last November?”

“Yes, I stayed there for almost a week and checked up on you. Found out that you were working at Zenith and living with Knox and Theodore Bennett—something I was not pleased about, by the way. But, I was so relieved you were safe and appeared to be happy, that I tried to ignore that you were living with two men and spending time with several others.”

“Dad,” I said, punctuating the word by crossing my arms over my chest with angry jerks. “Who cares who I was living with? You knew where I was eight months ago and didn’t let me know. Didn’t contact me at all. What the hell?”

He looked surprised by my mild expletive, but I didn’t care. Never once in all the months since he disappeared did I believe that he actually knew where I was. He allowed me to live in a constant state of worry over him for no reason. Again, what the hell?

“There were too many unanswered questions, Haley. I suspected Douglas was behind the men who showed up in Coleville, but I didn’t know for sure how Zenith fit in. I didn’t want you to get pulled into all of this any more than you already were. So, I made the decision—as impossible of a decision as it was—to let you be. I get why you’re upset, but I thought it was for the best.”

“Did you ever think about letting me decide what’s best for me? I’m not a child. I understand the severity of this situation and can make my own choices.”

Dad chuckled. “You may legally be an adult now, but you’re still my little girl. That hasn’t changed. Besides, doesn’t the fact that I left you to fend for yourself for all this time prove that I’m letting you be an adult?”

“Wow, letting me be an adult. Did you just think of that?” I said sarcastically.

His eyes scanned over me, zeroing in on my face. “You’re different.”

“Different bad?”

“No,” he said slowly. “Just different. More confident, for sure.”

I nodded. Jess said something similar in Vegas, and I knew what they both meant. My biggest challenges in Coleville were combatting boredom and loneliness. Thanks to Jess, I hadn’t grown up completely anti-social, but it was still a massive adjustment to go from my remote lifestyle to Santa Cruz and all the things that came along with it.

Once we reached the lake, we took a break from our serious discussion and set up lunch on a blanket Dad was carrying in his backpack. Over sandwiches and fruit, I told him about working at Percolate and living in Portland.

“The worst part is the almost non-existent night sky,” I glumly explained. “Even when it’s not overcast, there’s too much light pollution to see anything. At least in Santa Cruz, I could still make out constellations easily.”

“You’ll never be a big city girl,” he agreed. “Why did you leave Santa Cruz, anyway?” His voice rising, he continued before I had a chance to respond. “Your, uh, friends better not have—”

“No!” I exclaimed, interrupting his almost-rant. “It was nothing like that.”

“Okay,” he said, blowing out a relieved breath. “Why, then?”

Staring at the trees reflected in the glassy surface of the lake, I attempted to push past the emotions that crept up every time I thought of the guys and my decision to leave. Dad definitely didn’t need to know about Ethan or my dating dilemma, which left one reason—Gerald Douglas.

“Douglas discovered my identity,” I finally said, surprised at my own reluctance. Now that I had to speak the words aloud, I found that I didn’t want to tell him.

“Damn it!” He stood and started pacing. “How did he figure it out?”

I repeated what Douglas said about recognizing me from the artist rendering and photos of Mom, before explaining his threats if I didn’t comply with his demands.

“And he told you that all he wanted was to hear from me?”

“Yes. He claimed he had no intention of harming either of us, but that wasn’t exactly reassuring once he threatened to expose my identity. I felt like leaving was my only choice. Then, if he went through with it, at least I would be away and living under a new name. But, as far as I can tell, he never did.”

“Thank god I left that extra ID in the safe deposit box. Have you told anyone else about all of this?”

“Jess, but only in vague terms over Skype. She doesn’t know where I’m living and never even knew I was in Santa Cruz.”

“Okay, good. So Douglas is why you insisted on meeting me?”

“No. Well, yes, but it’s not the only reason.” I took a few deep breaths, knowing he was not going to be pleased about what I said next. “I think that Vincent DuBois knows you’re alive, and I’ve been looking into him.”

“You’ve been what?” he yelled. “What were you thinking? This is why I didn’t want you to know he even existed. You need to stay away from anything having to do with him.”

“Calm down, Dad. I am staying away from him, but I’ve been going through old case files from when you were with the force.”

“How in the world did you get your hands on . . .” He stopped, understanding dawning on his face. “Zenith.”

“Yes. And, since I’m fairly certain you’ve been doing your own investigation, I thought I should pass on something I found.”

Noticing that he didn’t deny my statement, I pulled a folder from my bag and handed it to him, then described the connections I found between Danny Franco and Vincent DuBois and told him about DuBois’s men showing up at his old office in Coleville. Dad skimmed through the documents I’d printed before turning back to me.

“I vaguely remember Franco’s case, and it seemed like the few leads we had at the time were a dead end. We never even considered that he might be involved with DuBois.” He smiled. “This is incredible, Haley.”

“Do you think the number is a bank account? Phone number?”

“Possibly. I’ll look into it. And, I’m going to track down Franco’s girlfriend as soon as possible. It’s doubtful she’ll be able to identify DuBois as the mysterious visitor after all these years, but it’s worth a try.”

“Here are the rest of the files I have on your old cases,” I said, giving him a thumb drive. Jackson would probably kill me if he ever found out I’d handed them over, but it wasn’t like I’d copied any confidential Zenith files. They were just files that Zenith—probably Chase—had stolen from the LAPD.

“Thank you.” He gave me a stern look. “Now do you promise to stay away from all things Vincent DuBois?” When I didn’t immediately respond, he said, “I mean it. I don’t want you involved.”

“Let me come with you and help with your investigation,” I said boldly.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not? Wouldn’t we be safer together?” That was a darn good point, if I said so myself.

“No. You just admitted that DuBois knows I’m alive and is looking for me. Me, not you. And, we’re going to make sure it stays that way.”

I sighed, knowing he wouldn’t change his mind. “And, you’re not going to tell me where you’ve been or where you’re living now?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Then, I want a way to contact you,” I said with conviction, expecting another refusal.

“Okay.”

“And, don’t think you’ll get away with only texting me every—” I paused, suddenly realized he’d agreed. “Oh.”

“I knew something must have happened when you demanded to see me, so I came prepared.” He reached into his bag, then handed me a basic cell phone. “My number is already programmed, and I’ll warn you before changing numbers again. Go ahead and toss the one I left in the safe deposit box.”

“Thank you.” I ran my fingers over the smooth surface of the phone, relief and sadness washing over me. It was getting late in the day, and I knew we would have to hike back and go our separate ways soon. “When will I see you again?” I asked, unable to look at my dad for fear of crying.

“I don’t know, kiddo, I don’t know.”

We quietly gathered our things and returned to the trail, the air between us thick with melancholy. And, as we reached the end of our time together, I wasn’t sure what to say. I never imagined I would go so long without seeing my dad and the thought of saying goodbye now was unbearable.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and those boys?” He said it teasingly, like he was attempting to lighten the mood, but I could tell he wanted to hear my answer.

“They were friends, really great friends. But, it doesn’t matter anymore. I can’t go back.”

“Don’t rule it out, Haley. You deserve as much happiness as you can find, and I’m sure they could help you deal with Douglas. I’ll even contact him, if it comes to that.”

“I’ll think about it,” I lied, wishing it could be that simple.

“Good,” he said, wrapping me in one more hug. “I love you,” he whispered, before walking away and disappearing in the woods.