Chained Guilt (Hidden Guilt (Detective Series) Book 1) (16 page)

“It’s okay, Hilary,” I said.

“I loved her, Dad.” Hilary wept, her face crumpling. “I really did.”

“She knew that.” I wrapped my arms around my daughter. “She loved you, too. Very much. All you can do now is use what she tried to teach you and learn from your own mistakes. No one is perfect. No one does it right all the time. Your mother did love you.”

I released her, intending to find my parents and Karen and say our goodbyes to the remaining guests. Hilary had never been one for emotional scenes. I respected that and moved away.

“No, Dad, can you just stay here for a few minutes? Please?”

It was the first time in a long time that Hilary had shown any interest in me. I was shocked—pleased, but shocked. I tried not to let it show on my face. I placed my arm around her shoulders.

“I’ve been pretty ugly to you, too, Dad. I’m sorry.” Hilary buried her face in my shoulder.

“Let’s put all that behind us, Hil. Start over. It will be rough, but we’ll make it. We can both learn something from it. The teenage years are tough. I’m not too old to remember how trying it can be at times.”

Hilary and I held each other for a long time.  I knew she didn’t need more words of advice or wisdom. She just needed a shoulder to cry on. Shortly, my mother-in-law approached with Karen, who ran to join us.

I wrapped my arms around my daughters and held on for dear life. They were all I had left now.

“Girls,” I said, my voice choking up, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect your mother. I loved her so much.” I took a deep breath. “But I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to be the best dad I can.”

The words had barely left my mouth when Hilary spoke. 

“Dad, we have each other. We’ll make it.”

As we rode home in the limo, we passed the spot where Miranda had her accident. I noticed both Hilary and Karen staring over the railing, perhaps hoping—maybe praying—to catch a glimpse of their mother, while knowing all too well it wasn’t possible.

When we got home, I told the girls I needed to rest for a few hours. I went to my room—our room—and climbed into bed. The presence of my wife was everywhere. Her bra hung over the shower curtain rod and her clothes filled the closet. Her housecoat draped the chair by the window.

I wondered how many more nights tears would precede my falling asleep. The Miranda- sized hole in my heart would be a long time in mending.

24

“Hello? Who’s there?” Miranda called out.

“Oh, it’s just me again, Miranda. It’s time for you to eat. I was able to bring you some food from your lovely memorial service. That sounds kinda unreal, but it’s true. After seeing your daughter again today, the little one, I’ve decided to stop killing kids. At least for the time being. I’ve got my prize now anyway.”

Miranda felt a frisson of shock surge through her.

“Your husband and kids are nice,” the woman continued. “Your honey bunny, David, is already thinking about giving me a chance. I could tell that much. I’m going to keep his number right here in my purse. He’s put on some muscle over the years, hasn’t he?”

“You leave them alone!” Miranda screamed, tugging on her bindings.

“Well, now, we only met today, but it seems he’s taken a liking to me already. How else do you get the phone number of a guy who just lost his wife? Huh? Any guesses? I suppose looking like this doesn’t hurt. You think he liked your body?  Well, he’s going to worship mine. He’s going to need me. He’s going to want me. He’s going to adore me. He’ll never even remember you existed.”

Miranda cringed as her captor’s evil laughter echoed around the room. 

“He’ll dream about me. He’ll father my kids. Your daughters will love me, too, before I get rid of them. If you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll make you a video or two of our lovemaking sessions.”

“David would never do anything with a two-bit skanky bitch like you!” Miranda snapped.

“Miranda, please . . .  Bitch? Such an ugly word. We’ll see, dear. His eyes didn’t call me that today, and a man’s eyes never lie. Besides, I always get what I want. I got you, didn’t I?”

It took every ounce of strength Miranda had, but she remained silent.

“Well, enough about that. I actually came down to feed you. You do want to eat, don’t you? I mean, I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you’re thinking. If that were my goal, don’t you think you’d be dead already? And since your family thinks you’re dead, eventually you and I will have to help them change that perception. We’ll toy with them . . . give them a reason to believe you could still be alive. It’ll be more fun that way.”

Miranda seethed. This skinny bitch had stolen her life and now maybe even her husband and kids. She tried to calm down. After all, David was too good at figuring people out. Certainly he would see right through this ploy. And she was sure the entire Houston Police Department was working hard to find her. She would be rescued in no time.

25

Several months later . . .

Life goes on; that much is true, though adjusting to life without Miranda was hard on all of us.  I still had not captured the child killer who had terrorized our city. The killings had stopped suddenly—almost too suddenly to make any sense. Six months had passed since Miranda’s death, but I’d been too preoccupied with my loss to think clearly enough to focus on the case. I strongly believed the killer was still out there, blending in, watching. Pleased with how his work had forever changed the lives of so many. Everyone was still afraid.

We had not officially closed the case due to lack of evidence, but because the killings had stopped and other cases emerged, it had gotten pushed into the background.  I scoured the net often for reports of similar killings being committed elsewhere in Texas or surrounding states, but came up empty.

Why had he stopped so suddenly? Did he have a new goal or objective? Or had he, as Wilcrest hypothesized, died in some unrelated accident or even been incarcerated for some other crime? There was no way to know for sure.

              “Run… run! Go, Karen, go!” Hilary yelled as we watched Karen score the go-ahead run for her Little League T-Ball team. It was Karen’s first year playing, but she’d quickly picked up the game.  Baseball was all Karen could think about now. She had always been fearful of trying the game, even though Miranda had talked to her about playing. Since her mother’s death, she had decided she would give it all she had and dedicate her efforts to her mother.

“Dad you should go out with Coach Stacy,” Hilary said, sliding beside me in the bleachers. “She really seems like a nice lady. I mean, I know I didn’t like her at first, but I do now. She’s really good with Karen, too.” She glanced up at me to see if I was listening. “And I’m pretty sure she’s into you.”

Stacy was strikingly beautiful indeed but I still couldn’t get over the out-of-nowhere feeling I got about her. She was a coach now and the little league always performed background checks on perspective coaches.

Hilary hit me on the shoulder. “Dad? Are you listening to me?”

I snapped back into it. “Really?” I glanced over at Stacy, who was offering advice to a batter. She didn’t look anything like she had at Miranda’s memorial service. Today, she wore tight-fitted skinny jeans and a loose T-shirt. “I don’t know, Hilary. It just seems too soon.”

“When will it be long enough, Dad? You have to have a life, even if you are old.” Hilary laughed as she patted my knee. “Seriously, you should think about it. Mom would have wanted you to move on. She would not have wanted you to be lonely. I know when a girl is into a guy. I’m a girl, Dad, remember?”

I sighed. “Okay, well, maybe you’re right.” I didn’t think so. “I’ll think about it.”

“Well, she’s a beautiful woman, Dad, and she isn’t going to wait on you forever.”

Cheers erupted from proud parents on the home side of the bleachers, and I turned to watch a little boy round home base, followed by Karen, for the winning run. I’d thought about the possibility of dating again, even making an attempt with Stacy. Every time I did, images of Miranda flashed in my mind. I watched my girls, pleased that Hilary had seemed to take more interest in her big sister role since Miranda died. Her attitude and demeanor had turned a one-eighty. She was helpful around the house, looked after her little sister when I had to work late, and was once again getting good grades in school. But it had only been six months, which seemed a little too soon to be grazing again.

Behind me, I heard two guys in their late twenties talking about Coach Stacy.

“Man, she is definitely the hottest coach I’ve ever seen. She could coach me anytime,” one of them said with a laugh.

“Yeah, she blows my wife away,” the other said. “She looks like a Playboy model or something. Look around out here. You see anything close to that anywhere?” He paused. “I didn’t think so.”

I was mildly surprised to hear the two fathers speak so openly about Stacy in such a way. Still, I did have to agree she was beautiful. And Hilary was right; Stacy was great with Karen. I frowned. Why was I trying to talk myself into this?

“Hey there, David, you okay?”

I glanced up to find Stacy standing in front of me. 

“Hey, Stacy,” I replied, sitting straighter. “You’re fine . . . I mean, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” 

I nodded. “Yeah, just letting my mind wander, that’s all. You did a good job today, coach.” I stood. “In fact, you’ve done a good job this entire season. It’s pretty weird that Karen ended up on your team. Nice coincidence, though. We got the best coach around.”

“Hey, the girls did a great job.” she said. “I’ve just been helping out a little.”

“We did it, Daddy!” Karen yelled as she raced toward me, Hilary trailing behind.

My youngest jumped into my arms, and I wrapped her up in a congratulatory bear hug.

“Yes, you did. You played real good, Karen. I’m really proud of you.”

“Why don’t we all take a picture?” Stacy suggested.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” I said.

The three of us lined up as Hilary pulled out her iPhone and snapped a quick pic.

“Hold on, why don’t you get into the picture with us, Hilary?” Stacy asked.

“Are you sure?” Hilary said

“Of course! Don’t be silly.”

Stacy waived one of the other parents over to take the picture while the four of us posed together.

“Are you coming to the team party tonight, David?” Stacy asked.

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

On the ride home, Karen recounted the game for us, play by play. She was so excited. Hilary told Karen their mother would have been proud of what she had accomplished. The comment noticeably saddened Karen, as any mention of her mother did, but she understood what her sister was saying. I played the proud parent, grinning all the way home.

“Girls, when we get home, I have some yardwork to tackle. After I’m finished, I’ll clean up and we can head out to the party, okay?”

As we walked into the house, I heard Hilary talking to Karen.

“You really think Mom would have been proud of me?” Karen asked.

“Yeah, I really do,” Hilary said. “Karen, I need to talk to you about something. I told Dad that he should go out on a date with Stacy. How do you feel about that?”

The question must have caught the usually quick-tongued Karen off guard, because she didn’t answer right away. I closed the front door behind us and watched her gaze around the living room at the family pictures on the walls.

              “It’s kind of strange to think of Daddy being friends with another lady,” Karen admitted. “But I think Mommy would like Coach Stacy. I think she’d want Daddy to be happy, too.”

“Wow, that’s a big girl answer,” Hilary whispered to her little sister. “But I totally agree, and that’s what I told Dad.”

“So what did he say?”

“I think he’s going to talk to her tonight and see what happens.”

With that, the girls climbed the stairs and went to their rooms to change. Moments later, Hilary’s radio blasted. I smiled and went out to start my yardwork. I mowed the front lawn, trimmed and swept up the clippings on the shrubs out back, and hosed down the driveway. 

After I finished with the yard, I went back inside to wash up. Karen was in the kitchen with Hilary, eating a light snack. As I passed her room, I saw the uniform she’d dumped on the floor. When I bent to pick it up, I noticed the piece of paper on her bed.