Chained Guilt (Hidden Guilt (Detective Series) Book 1) (31 page)

After the girls and David left, Stacy waited for Rodney to show up. She had snatched Hilary’s phone the evening before while she was in the shower and texted Rodney an invite to come over today. She’d erased the outgoing message and affirmative reply and replaced Hilary’s phone before leaving her room, a satisfied smile on her face. He should be here any minute now. 

When the doorbell rang twenty minutes later, she answered it, feigning a disapproving look.

“Hi, Stacy, is Hilary here?” a nervous Rodney asked.

She was ready for him. She’d removed her bra and replaced her collared blouse with a tight T-shirt. She saw his eyes widen when he glanced at her breasts, and then he quickly backed up, his face reddening.

“Come on in,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting company. You’ll have to excuse my clothes. Hilary should be back any minute now. She ran to the store.”

Rodney took a seat on the far edge of the couch.

Stacy smiled and made him sit there for a minute before she plopped down on the sofa next to him.

“I want to show you something, if you promise you can keep a secret.”

He glanced at her, confused. She leaned closer to him, making sure her breast brushed up against his arm. He blushed again but didn’t back away.

“Okay, I guess.” He shrugged.

She stood and reached out her hand to him. With a confused frown, he took it. She hid her smile. Like a puppy, he followed her to the master bedroom, where she knew he would see the bag of weed and the ecstasy pills.

“Want to have some fun while we wait?”

“N-No . . .” he mumbled. “I couldn’t. I don’t mess with that stuff.”

“Oh, come on,” she said with a sexy wink. “Hilary told me you two have fun with it.”

She licked her lips and leaned her head toward his.
              “Besides, why can’t we? I won’t tell if you don’t.”

She watched his defenses slowly crumble. He chewed his bottom lip, glancing from her breasts to the drugs and back again. Stacy reached down and plucked a pill from the plastic baggie and slowly pushed it into his mouth with her fingers. She trailed her finger seductively across his lips, reaching for his crotch with her other hand.

“What are you—?”

“Shhh,” she whispered, her fingers caressing him through his jeans. “You have to learn when to talk and when not to, young man. Hilary also told me you have an incredible . . . gift, shall we call it?”

It was obvious to her that Rodney couldn’t believe what was happening. He was scared they would get caught, but his hormones raged. She could barely contain her glee. She pushed him gently down on the bed. He didn’t resist.

She disrobed and then helped him out of his clothes. She caught every second of it on tape.

**

The girls and I were enjoying our afternoon on the lake. It had been several months since I’d taken them out. I glanced at Karen, frowning when I realized how pale and clammy she looked.

“Karen, are you feeling okay? You look kind of tired.”

Before she could respond, Karen collapsed into the bottom of the canoe, stiff as a board and jerking.

“Quick, Hilary, grab the other paddle!” I ordered. “She’s having a seizure. We have to get to shore!”

Hilary and I paddled as quickly as we could.  Once back on shore, Hilary and I scrambled out of the canoe. I reached for Karen, cradling her in my arms as I ran toward the truck. As before, Hilary rode in the backseat next to her sister, keeping a protective hand on her limp body as I sped to the hospital.

I pulled up to the emergency entrance, slammed on the brakes, and grabbed Karen from Hilary’s arms. It was déjà vu all over again.  I rushed through the emergency room doors hollering for help, Hilary only steps behind, tears of worry streaking her sunburned cheeks.

“What’s wrong with her?” an ER nurse asked as we burst through the door.

“I don’t know! She had a seizure about twenty minutes ago. She’s been unconscious ever since.”

The nurse called for a gurney, and I gently placed my daughter on it. She was no longer stiff, but still looked so pale and still.

“Oh my God,” I said, nearly choked on my fear. “Please save her!”

The nurse quickly pulled Karen behind the trauma doors, leaving Hilary and I staring after her in stunned dismay.

“Dad, what’s wrong with her?” Hilary asked. “Why does she keep having all these seizures?”

“She was fine, I thought . . .”

I decided to find Stacy and walked to the wing where she usually worked. I didn’t see her anywhere and headed for the nurse’s station.

“Is Stacy here today?” I asked a nurse sitting behind the desk. I recognized her, but in my current condition I couldn’t recall her name.

“Hi, David. I haven’t seen her,” the nurse said. “She’s been missing a lot of work lately. That morning sickness can be nasty stuff.”

“Thanks,” I said, not giving her words another thought. I hurried back to the ER waiting room.

Just as I returned, a doctor emerged and headed for us.

”How’s Karen?” I asked, my emotions in an uproar.

“She’s going to be fine,” the doctor said. “She’s just going to need some rest. I want to keep her here till she’s at least forty-eight hours seizure-free.  Is there anyone who could stay with her? We’ll run some more tests and get to the bottom of why this little girl is so sick all of a sudden.”

“I can stay,” Hilary said.

“You’re awfully young,” the doctor said.

“Dad, I want to stay with her.”

The doctor finally agreed, as long as I stayed as well. Karen was stable and asleep, soon to be taken to a room in the pediatric ward. I was proud of my oldest daughter, but a bit wary.

“This is a big deal, Hil. If anything happens . . . I mean, you just need to be alert in there. I’m going home to get you some clothes. Anything else you want? Your laptop or anything?”

“Yes, clothes and my laptop should be good. And my phone,” she said. “Thanks, Dad. Oh, and grab Karen’s journal for her. I’m sure she’d like that.”

“I’ll get it all. No problem.”

I gave Hilary a quick hug and was on my way.

I pulled into our driveway and noticed Stacy’s car still there. It hadn’t moved.
I thought she was going to work.

“Stacy?” I called as I walked through the door.

She appeared at the top of the stairs, dressed in her scrubs.

“Hey there,” she said, smiling. “Where are the girls?”

“Karen had another seizure,” I explained, heading upstairs. “They’re both at the hospital, where I thought you’d be.”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “I was supposed to go, but after you guys left I didn’t feel well, so I called in. I was going to call you, but I didn’t want to bother you. I didn’t want you to stop canoeing with the girls and come home for little ol’ me.”

I nodded, brushing past her toward Hilary’s room. “Hilary is going to stay at the hospital with Karen. They’re keeping her for at least forty-eight hours to try to get to the bottom of what’s causing the seizures. I have to get some stuff to take back to her.”

I wasn’t so sure I bought Stacy’s explanation, but what did I know about pregnancy and morning sickness? She seemed fine when we left earlier that day, and she looked fine now. Actually, I thought I smelled a hint of liquor on her breath as I passed her at the top of the stairs. I shook my head.
What was I thinking?
  I focused on my tasks and gave her the benefit of the doubt.

I grabbed the things Hilary had requested—all but her phone, which was nowhere to be found.  I grabbed my toothbrush and a change of clothes for myself and stuffed it all in a backpack. I planned to drop it off at the hospital and then head over to the station to fill Cap in and check on a few things before returning to the hospital for the night. I said as much to Stacy. She held the door open for me.

“I love you, but I need to be with the girls tonight. You understand, right?”

She nodded but didn’t say anything. I could wait and try to assuage her obviously hurt feelings, but decided against it. I threw Hilary’s backpack into the truck and backed out of the driveway. I looked up to see Stacy watching me through our bedroom window. Only then did I realize she hadn’t asked if Karen was all right. Come to think of it, I know I smelled liquor on her breath. I frowned. Why would she be drinking if she was pregnant?

.

59

De Luca woke with a pounding head. She blinked hard to clear her vision, and focused on Miranda.

“David was right about one thing,” De Luca said.

“Right about what?” Miranda’s voice was weak and raspy.

The two lay side by side on the mattress.

“He told me how pretty you were.” De Luca gently shook her head, every move eliciting new pounding. “What the hell happened?”

“She came up behind you and hit you over the head with a shovel. She gave you a pretty good shot. I thought you were dead for a while.”

“I’m Italian.” De Luca grinned at her. “It’s going to take a hell of alot more than that to take me out.”

“How long have I been down here?” Miranda asked. “Do you know?”

“Almost a year,” she replied, eyeing the handcuffs that bound her.

Miranda sighed. “I lost count a long time ago.”

De Luca struggled to sit up. “So let me get this straight. She wrecks your car and then locks you up down here? Takes over your life? You have any idea why?”

“I was working on a story. It would have sent some people to jail. But no one knew the details—not even David. Maybe it was compromised; I don’t know.”

“Yeah, about the mayor,” De Luca said, scanning her surroundings for a way out. “Somehow, David figured it out and chased Carter clear out of the country. He’s in jail now. The judge gave him thirty years without the possibility of parole.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s locked up, but I have no idea why this bitch has taken over my life. I don’t even think what she’s done to me is a result of my story. She has my husband, my house, my girls . . . and to top it off, she’s pregnant. She taunts me every time she comes down here. That story uncovered a lot, but I’m not sure it has anything to do with why I’m down here.”

De Luca wondered if she should fill Miranda in. After all, there was no telling when they’d get out of here. If they ever did. Still, hope was a wonderful thing.

“Miranda, David believes you might still be alive. Stacy sent hair samples and . . .” she glanced down at Miranda’s now-healed hand. “And your finger. They tested and confirmed the DNA. He knows they came from you.  Problem is, he can’t even begin to figure out who has you or why.”

“He’ll figure it out,” Miranda said, her confidence renewed by the news that David thought she might be alive. “He’ll figure it out.”

60

Rodney’s high ebbed. His head throbbed. He couldn’t believe what he’d done. He was lucky his parents were out of town so he could recuperate without answering their questions. Still, he was lucid enough to be concerned about Hilary. She’d never showed up at her house. It wasn’t like her to text him to come over and then not be there. He frowned. That Stacy was a freak.

The transcript he had seen on Stacy’s laptop the other day still bothered him.  After his recent experience with her, he didn’t trust her one bit. Thank God he didn’t remember much of it. The thought turned his stomach.  He knew he should call the police, but he couldn’t handle the embarrassment.

He decided to try his luck hacking into Texas Tech’s records. It took him twenty minutes—longer than he’d hoped—but he was in. First, he looked up David’s transcript. He had dropped out midsemester. He queried the school’s website for hits on David’s name and was linked to numerous articles he’d appeared in over the years.

He downloaded the files to his laptop and kept digging. Then he focused on the woman whose name had been on the transcript on Stacy’s computer: Lisa Crease. He typed in her name, followed by the year David had attended the university.

“Lisa Crease, huh? Who are you, Lisa?” Rodney muttered as he waited impatiently for his computer to do its thing.