“Monopoly, Uno, or Checkers?” Chase looked at me expectantly, holding up the three classic games. Their loose plastic pawns rattled gently against each other and the box. Surprised by the question, I didn’t immediately respond. “Please, Haley,” he implored. “I’m so bored, and I love games.”
His adorable smile was too much to resist, especially with his dimple. And the idea of passing the afternoon with a game was infinitely more appealing than continuing to stare out the window and worry about my uncertain future. “Monopoly,” I finally suggested, smiling back at him.
“Yes! I love Monopoly. I always pick the battleship. What piece do you want?” He started laying out the game pieces on the table.
I laughed at his enthusiasm, considering my choices. “I’ve always wanted a dog, so I’ll go with the Scottish Terrier.”
I watched with amusement while Chase set up the game. He chatted about playing Monopoly with his grandmother and Ethan, and he told me how Ethan always tried to fight him for the battleship. It was nice to see this easy-going side of Chase. He said more in those few minutes than he had the rest of the day put together.
As we got into the game, I had to admit that I was having fun with Chase. I’d never had the chance to do normal things like this with anyone other than my dad and Jessica. For probably the millionth time, I wondered what it would have been like to be an ordinary teenager.
“So, Haley.” Chase’s voice had an inquisitive tone, and I was slightly worried about what he was going to ask me. “What was it like, growing up with your dad as your teacher? Did he give you straight As?”
I laughed quietly. “My dad was a great teacher. And no, he did not give me perfect grades; I earned them.” I confidently moved my pawn and collected cash from the bank.
Chase grinned. “Touché.”
“When we first moved out here, my dad was home with me all the time. He focused on the basics—reading, writing, math, and science, but he used every opportunity as a chance to learn. Eventually he transitioned to working part-time, and he gave me more input on what I wanted to study.
The older I got, the more independent my studies became. By the time I was thirteen, he went to work all day, and I completed my chores and my lessons on my own. After dinner, we would sit down at the kitchen table and go over what I had learned. He didn’t give me grades per se, but he tested me to see how prepared I was. He asked tough questions, so I always tried to anticipate what he would quiz me on. I learned a lot from him.”
Chase purchased a property before continuing with his questions. “That sounds like a good way to learn. But what about friends? Sports? School dances?”
I smiled. “I can’t say the idea of a school dance ever appealed to me. As far as sports go, I love running. Plus, my dad took me hiking and camping all the time and taught me basic survival skills. And friends.” I paused. “Well, I have one really close friend who moved away last year for college, but we still keep in touch.”
“You said you already finished your high school curriculum. Are you planning on going to college?”
The question was innocent enough, but it was a difficult one for me to answer. How could I tell him that opportunities like college had never been open to me? I didn’t want him to think poorly of my dad, and I wasn’t sure that he would understand Dad’s overprotectiveness. “I don’t know yet. It’s something that my dad and I still need to discuss.”
Anxious to deflect, I asked, “What about you? Did you decide to work in private security instead of going to college?” Chase looked a little older than me but was definitely still in the typical college student age range. Since he appeared to be employed full-time, I guessed he wasn’t in school.
“Actually, I’m a student at the University of California, Santa Cruz. I’m studying computer science.” Apparently I was wrong. How did he manage to go to school and go away for work for days at a time?
He told me a little about the campus and his classes, and I couldn’t help but feel jealous. Santa Cruz sounded like the ideal place to live and go to school. I could easily imagine myself biking down the boardwalk on a beach cruiser, the cool ocean breeze in my face. I silently laughed at myself. Such a daydream was pointless, too distant from my current lifestyle to be a realistic possibility.
I turned to Chase, finally asking the question that had been running through my mind since I first saw him in the cabin. “You were following me, weren’t you? When I ran into you at the library?” Anticipating his answer, I almost forgot to take my turn.
Chase rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Yeah, I was.” He paused. “We’d actually been keeping an eye on you and your dad for a couple of days. Although our investigation led us to the area, we had to be sure that we tracked down the correct person. We weren’t even expecting Brian Taylor to have a daughter.”
“Brian Taylor?” The name sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place it. And then the pieces started to fall into place. Kira . . . Taylor. I hadn’t even thought about my former last name when I’d discovered my change in identity.
Chase looked at me, surprised. “Your dad’s given name is Brian Taylor. You didn’t know that?”
I hesitated. Truthfully, it was embarrassing that my past had practically been a blank slate until a few days ago. “No, I actually just found out about the name change, and I didn’t think to ask what my dad’s name used to be.”
I shook my head, stung that Chase had to tell me Dad’s real name. There’s so much I still don’t know about my parents, my family. My heart ached with fear and loss. A few days ago I would have given anything for the answers to my past, the keys to my freedom. Be careful what you wish for, I thought.
After a couple hours of passing “Go” and buying and losing properties, we finally finished the game. “Good game,” Chase said. “Can you do me a favor and not mention to the guys that you beat me,” he said, a teasing grin on his face.
I raised one eyebrow. “Really? I didn’t peg you as one of those guys who can’t deal with losing to a girl.” Chase’s soft laugh flowed through me, warming me. I couldn’t believe how quickly I had become comfortable in his presence. I think it helped that he also seemed just a little shy, making my own awkwardness less obvious.
“Speaking of the guys, I was kind of hoping that I could make dinner tonight. I’ll probably need assistance getting around in the kitchen, but I want to do something to thank you all for helping me.” I wasn’t used to being waited on hand and foot and was ready to contribute something to the group.
Still sitting at the table, the Monopoly pieces scattered around the board, Chase pulled gently at the neck of his T-shirt. “That’s nice of you, but it’s really not necessary. Besides, if I let you stand on your feet that long, Ethan will kill me.”
I frowned, not one to be easily deterred. Glancing around, I noticed a bar stool and pointed it out to Chase. “How about this? I can sit on the bar stool at the counter and you can just put everything on the counter in front of me.”
He hesitated, deliberating as he pushed his chair back from the table. Standing up, he shrugged. “I guess that could work; I can even be your sous-chef. And, I’m sure Ethan will be relieved since he’s been stuck with most of the cooking since we’ve been here.”
* * *
It was cozy in the cabin, and I felt relaxed and comfortable. September was always one of my favorite months, and not just because of my birthday. I loved the beginning of autumn, when the sun began to set earlier, making the evening air cool and crisp. Just thinking about it had me craving a warm bowl of soup.
Chase gave me a quick inventory of the ingredients available as I ran through my mental catalogue of recipes. While the kitchen wasn’t stocked, we had what I needed apart from tortilla chips and cilantro. Chase texted Knox, asking him to pick some up on his way back to the cabin.
Chase was an excellent sous-chef, not that the chicken tortilla soup I was preparing required much assistance. After years of making dinner, cooking had become routine. Although I wouldn’t call myself a master chef by any means, I was a decent cook when it came to the basics. This recipe was an old favorite, an easy standby, that I had long since memorized.
While I chopped, sautéed, and stirred, Chase handed me items from the fridge or pantry and talked about his grandmother’s cooking. As he told me about her famous meatball recipe, I could feel the love and respect in his voice. He was clearly close to her and a devoted grandson.
I wondered what my own grandparents were like. My dad had been my only family for so long that I had never really given the rest of our family much thought. And whenever I had asked about them, he gave vague or noncommittal answers that made it clear the topic was not up for discussion. Now that I knew the truth about our lifestyle, I wondered what family I had still living after all these years.
When I finally saw my dad again, I would have to ask him. Dad had been my whole world for so long that I had never really considered a life without him. The thought was simply inconceivable. Now, faced with exactly that situation, I was trying to avoid giving it too much thought. I would find Dad; I just needed to put all his lessons into practice.
The sun was at the horizon and dinner was almost ready when the front door opened. Knox entered and dumped a backpack and his leather jacket on the floor by the door. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply. His voice boomed through the small space. “Smells good. What’s for dinner?”
Without looking up, I responded, “Chicken tortilla soup.”
A few minutes later, Ethan opened the door and quickly spotted me. He glared at me, but I caught the twitch of his lip that was forcing down a smirk. “And just what do you think you’re doing?” He walked through the living room toward the kitchen, setting his satchel on a chair as he made his way toward us.
Chase and Knox were standing between the living room and the table. When Ethan reached Chase, he squared his shoulders. “I thought I told you not to let her put any weight on her ankle.”
Facing the stove, I only had a partial view of the rest of the cabin. While I couldn’t see either of their faces, the tone of Ethan’s voice was loud and clear. Already warm from cooking and sitting in front of the stove, I felt my temperature rise a few more degrees. Not wanting to get in the middle, I kept my mouth shut and stirred the soup.
Chase shifted on his feet and sighed impatiently. Ethan waved a hand through the air as if dismissing him. In a lowered voice I heard Ethan say, “I guess I can’t blame you; I’m sure she’s pretty persuasive when she wants to be.” I felt myself blushing and hoped they wouldn’t notice.
Dinner was mostly uneventful. I was curious where Knox and Ethan had been all day but couldn’t think of a good way to subtly bring it up. Knox and Chase mostly talked sports; Ethan complimented my soup and we discussed cooking.
Toward the end of the meal, I was surprised when Ethan brought up my dad. “Haley, I wanted to let you know that I went by your house today, or what’s left of it, and didn’t see any signs of your dad. I also discreetly asked around in town, but no one has seen him.”
He paused. “No one seemed surprised by my questions. In fact, a few people mentioned that I wasn’t the first one making these inquiries. I don’t want to alarm you, but I think you need to be on your guard; someone may be after you too.”
I listened but pushed the idea to the back of my mind for the moment, not really ready to deal with it. This situation was only creating more questions than answers; one in particular had been nagging me all day. “What did you tell your client about me and my dad?”
Absorbed in what Ethan was saying, I didn’t realize that Knox and Chase had stopped talking, and I was surprised when Knox responded. “All we told our client was that we found a man who we believed to be Brian Taylor using the alias Stephen Jones. We provided your dad’s work address only and didn’t mention anything about you.”
Knox paused, scratching his tricep then letting his fingers linger, grasping the muscle. “We gave him that information the morning of the fire, so technically it is possible that he is connected to the men who were following your dad after the explosion. But, like I said before, we can’t be sure of his involvement. We just don’t know enough about what is going on yet.”
I exhaled, feeling relieved. Although the timing was suspicious, the information they gave their client, whoever that was, was pretty vague. And their client may not be connected to the criminals at all. There was still the chance that they didn’t actively work for the criminals. My heart lifted at the thought.