twenty-six
Early morning sunlight filtered into the basement, painting yellow streaks on the floor. Harley’s neck was kinked, her arms and legs were sore. It had been a long night. She’d slept off and on. Mostly off. Every time she awoke, momentary panic would seize her. She was tired, cold, and scared.
Where was her dad?
Why hadn’t he shown up by now?
You’re crazy.
You’re delusional.
Stop making things up.
Stop lying.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to quiet her dad’s words.
He was wrong.
Her mom was real to her. It didn’t matter what the therapists had said. What her dad had said. They didn’t understand.
What had her dad told Dylan about her?
Bile rose in her throat. Dylan was the first person who had cared about her in a long time.
Did he think she was crazy now too?
Was that why he hadn’t come for her?
It was chilly in the basement, and she shivered. The cold had seeped into her bones hours ago when the sun had hidden behind the clouds, and a chill settled over the town. Thankfully, Mr. Packard hadn’t attempted to open the basement door again.
But every tick of the clock caused her hope to dwindle more and more. By now all of her hope had been snuffed out.
She wondered if she’d be stuck down here forever. Pretty soon her body would wither away and she’d be nothing but ashes and dust. Then her dad would feel bad. He’d wish he had listened this time.
He’d know that for once she’d been telling the truth.
As she wallowed in self-pity, a sound caught her attention. A knock at the door. Her body stiffened. Did she dare get her hopes up again? It couldn’t be the cops. Could it? She hadn’t heard anyone pull up. Then again, she hadn’t really been listening. She’d been caught up in her own thoughts.
Muffled voices traveled down the stairs. They sounded firm, authoritative. Her pulse spiked. Harley knew the way the law worked. If they didn’t have a warrant, they couldn’t search his property. She could still be stuck here.
Unless…
“Help!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, kicking at the floor. There was no way to know if it was the cops or not. But if it was, she couldn’t let them leave. She had to chance it. Hopefully the basement wasn’t sound proof. “Help! Help!” She screamed again and again, praying it wasn’t futile.
Scuffling. Desperate, raised voices. Sharp footsteps. The jiggling of a knob.
Her heart thrummed beneath her flesh, pounded in her ears.
It was happening.
“Help!” She hollered again, fear in her voice. That wasn’t an act. She may have done this to herself, but the terror of being trapped in here was real. Very real. And she wanted it to be over with. Now. Being locked and bound all night had been enough. She couldn’t take another minute. Whether it was the cops or someone else, she wanted help.
When the door popped open, bright light spilled down the stairs, a beacon of hope. A lighthouse.
Harley lifted her head.
Her dad stood at the top of the stairs, darkening the doorway. He squinted. “Harley?”
“What?” Mr. Packard stammered from over his shoulder. “I…I…I didn’t even know she was here. This is a mistake. I…I…didn’t put her there.”
It was the truth, and that should’ve caused Harley to feel shame. But she didn’t. He’d hurt her. And now he would pay. He’d finally get what he deserved. Her hatred grew as she heard his whimpering denials. Coward. He hadn’t stopped when she cried. He hadn’t let her leave when she begged.
And she had no sympathy for him now.
“Deal with him, Mark,” her dad called to his partner, his jaw tightening. Then he hurried down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Harley had never seen her dad move so fast. “Harley.” His voice was so tender, it broke her.
By the time he untied her and scooped her into his arms, she was crying with relief, regret, fear, anger, and exhaustion. Her body shook, tears staining the front of her dad’s shirt. He gently stroked her hair. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d embraced her. The last time he’d held or touched her. But today they held onto each other as if they would drown if they let go.
“I’m so sorry,” he said over and over. “I should’ve listened. I should’ve believed you.” He clutched her tighter.
Her cheek stuck to his dampened shirt. They were attached now. Stuck together. Bonded in an inexplicable way.
***
Dylan’s hands grappled with her face, his fingertips tracing her bruise as if reading braille. “I hate that you’re hurt.” Curving his hand to cradle her head, he drew her close, his lips fanning over her ears. “I hate that I did this to you,” he whispered. “I hate that you were down in that basement for so long.”
“I’m fine,” Harley said firmly. It was an assurance she’d given him a million times already. Drawing back, she looked deeply into his eyes, framing his face with her hands. “Everything is fine.”
He nodded, his lips trembling slightly. “I waited to hear all day. I was so worried.”
Harley’s dad had insisted on taking her to the hospital right after leaving Mr. Packard’s. It wasn’t until they arrived that Harley remembered Dylan. She had her dad call and tell him she was all right. Dylan had begged to come to the hospital, but her dad told him to wait until the following day to see her.
Dylan was here first thing this morning.
She could hear her dad moving around in the kitchen. The scent of coffee wafted under her nose. It was weird having him home. Usually he would’ve been at work by this time of the day. It may have been Saturday, but that didn’t usually mean a day of rest for her dad. Last night he’d been more attentive toward her than he had been in years. She hoped it would continue. Catching her reflection in the mirror above her dresser, she cringed at the unsightly bruise blooming on her face. Not wishing to look at it any longer, she lowered herself down on the edge of her bed. It sloped beneath her weight.
“I’m sorry,” Harley said. “There was such so much going on.”
Dylan joined her, sitting so close their thighs touched. Picking up her hand, he threaded his fingers through hers. “It’s okay. I’m just glad they found you in time.”
She opened her mouth to tell him how awful it had been sitting in that basement all night alone, but then clamped her mouth shut, deciding against it. There was no need. Nothing bad happened. That’s what they should focus on.
“I went to the police station right after leaving you,” he whispered. “But your dad didn’t believe me. He told me to go home.” Shame filled his face. “I should’ve pushed him. I should’ve made him listen.”
She shook her head. “You did the right thing.”
“I went back to get you. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being there all alone…indefinitely.”
Remembering the noises outside, she said, “That was you?”
“You heard me?”
She nodded. “You saved me.”
“I just wish it didn’t take so long.”
“No. Not just yesterday,” she explained. “The night before too.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “Huh?”
“That night someone started to open the basement door, but they stopped because of the noises in the front yard.”
Dylan’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh, my god, Harley. When I think about what could’ve happened --.”
She placed a finger over his lips. Maybe she should’ve kept it to herself. “But it didn’t.”
“But it could have.” He frowned. “I never would’ve forgiven myself.”
“Shhh.” They couldn’t keep talking about this here. Harley glanced sharply at the bedroom door. Her dad was still banging around in the kitchen. She relaxed a little.
“It all worked out.” She flashed him a smile.
He returned it, and then lowered his head. “Did they find the evidence?”
“I don’t know, but there’s been a team over there.”
“They’ll find it then.” He breathed out, his shoulders softening.
“Hey.” She squeezed his hand. “Thank you for everything. You really came through for me.”
“Of course. I’d do anything for you.” Lifting their conjoined hands, he pressed his lips to the back of hers. They were warm and soft. Her heart skipped a beat.
She wanted him to kiss her on the mouth, not just the hand. But she didn’t dare. Her dad could walk in any minute. Dropping her head to his shoulder, she rested it in the crook of his neck. He smelled like laundry detergent and soap. The familiarity of it comforted her. When she was in that basement, a part of her wondered if she’d ever get out. A part of her wondered if this whole thing would blow up in her face.
The fact that it didn’t was shocking.
The fact that it went better than planned was even more shocking.
As she sat with Dylan, their hands tethering them together, she thought about how this whole thing seemed a little too good to be true. And you know what they say about that.
***
When Dylan left, Harley went into the kitchen where her dad sat at the table eating breakfast. He hopped up the minute she entered.
“Can I get you something? Eggs? Bacon? Coffee?”
She smiled. “You cooked. I’m impressed.”
“Hey, I can cook,” he responded in a joking manner. In his sweat pants and t-shirt, his hair wet from the shower, he looked like the dad she remembered from when she was a small child.
“It’s just so rare that you do,” she mumbled. If he heard her, he didn’t acknowledge it. “Um…food’s good. I’m not really a coffee drinker.” It made her jittery, nervous.
He hurried to the stove and filled a plate. Sunlight flooded the kitchen. When she glanced outside, she saw that it was sunny, blue skies as far as the eye could see.
“Here you go.” He carried it to the table and set it down.
“Thanks.” Harley plunked down. The way her dad was acting was weird. But it was also pretty awesome, so she went with it.
“What’s the deal with you and Dylan?” he asked, picking up his fork.
“The deal?” Harley took a bite of her eggs. They were a little cold.
“Like are you dating, or -- ?”
She shrugged. “I guess. We haven’t really talked about it.”
“Well, it’s obvious that he really likes you.”
Harley smiled. “I really like him too.”
“Just be careful.”
Her head snapped up, surprised. “He’s a good guy.”
It was silent a moment as her dad ate a forkful of eggs. After swallowing them down, he lifted his head. “I know. It just seems like you guys are moving a little too fast.”
“We’re not,” she assured him. “We’ve been close for awhile. You’d know that if you’d been around.”
He frowned. “I’m sorry, Harley.”
When she was a kid, it made her laugh when people said that. She’d say, “Don’t you mean, sorry, Charlie?” But right now it wasn’t so funny. Her dad hadn’t apologized to her in years.
Hell, he hadn’t even spent time with her in years.
And she was desperate to hear what he had to say.
“I’m sorry that I haven’t been around.” He paused, taking a breath. “And I’m so sorry that I didn’t believe you about Neil. He admitted to…” His face screwed up like he might cry. Nothing would freak Harley out more. She’d never seen him cry. Her dad was like steel. Solid and unaffected. “To hurting you.”
“Neil? That’s his name?” Huh. She’d never known Mr. Packard’s first name. Odd that his fingers had been places on her body no one else’s ever had and this was the first time she’d heard his name. “He admitted to kidnapping me?”
When her dad and his partner questioned her last night, she told them that she’d been snooping around on Mr. Packard’s property. She knew she’d be in trouble if she confessed to breaking in, so she only went as far as telling them she was in the yard when Mr. Packard found her. She’d listened to her dad enough to know that she had to cover all her bases. There had to be a reason why Mr. Packard would take her into his basement. So, Harley told them that she accused Mr. Packard of killing Lauren and also threatened to tell everyone the truth about what he had done to her years ago. That’s when he dragged her into the house and tied her in the basement, telling her she’d regret putting her nose in his business and threatening him.
It was a good story. Perfect. Hardly any holes. Her dad and his partner bought it almost immediately.
But why had Mr. Packard gone along with it?
“No. He confessed to what he did to you years ago.” When her dad swallowed, his neck swelled with the effort.
“Oh.” She inhaled through her nose and then it let it release slowly out of her mouth. That made more sense, but it still shocked her. She’d never even allowed herself to dream that he would confess. That she’d finally get justice.
“I know there’s nothing I can say to make this better. It’s just that you’d told me lies like that before. And it seemed so convenient, you know. Because the rumors had just started about him being a pedophile. That had always been your MO, to tell lies that seemed like truth.”
“I know. I get it.” And she did. He was right. It didn’t make it better. But she understood. Sort of.
“And all that stuff with your mom…”
She sucked in a breath. This was the part she had trouble with. She didn’t like when he brought this up. To her, it was real.
He must’ve sensed the change in her because he placed a hand over hers. “I’m just trying to say I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” She was sorry for things he didn’t even know about.
“Oh, and I have something for you.” He set the shiny piece of jewelry on the table.
“My bracelet.” Reaching for it, she smiled.
“It’s so funny. I bought your mom that bracelet at the fair. It wasn’t even expensive, but she wore it all the time.” Her dad smiled.
She liked talking to him about her mom. It happened so rarely. Securing the bracelet to her wrist, she stared down at it.
For a few minutes they ate in silence, the only noise was the scraping of forks on the plates and the wind that blew against the house. Harley wanted to wait awhile before asking anymore questions. She didn’t want to seem too eager, but she couldn’t help herself.
“Did he confess to killing Lauren?”
“No. We found some evidence though. That’s all I can say.”
Her heart hammered in her chest. They must’ve found the phone.
“I’m proud of you, Harley. You listened to your gut and you didn’t back down from what you knew was true.” He smiled. “You’d make a great detective.”
She didn’t want to go into law enforcement, but she kept that to herself. It felt good to get a compliment from her dad.
“And I should’ve taken you more seriously. If I had, then maybe you wouldn’t have felt the need to do what you did.” His voice broke. “When I think about what could’ve happened to you.”
“I’m fine, Dad.” She placed a hand on his arm.
“I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.” His gaze crashed into hers. “I know I’ve been a terrible father. I guess I haven’t dealt with your mom’s death very well. But the last couple of days were a reminder that I still have you, and I don’t want to keep missing out on that.”
Moisture filled her eyes. It’s what she’d been wanting him to say for years. Hearing it now made everything worth it. The sneaking around, the investigating, even being tied up in Mr. Packard’s basement.
“I’m going to be a better dad,” he said. “To my hero of a daughter.”
Her smiled faltered a little. It’s what she wanted. To be the hero. It’s why she did all of this. But something wasn’t right. Something that nagged at her deep in her gut. If only she could figure out what it was.