I'll Be Watching You, page 22
September 3
Emmy’s hands tremble as she pulls the secret phone out of the cubby.
“What the fuck?” Nate breathes next to her.
She powers up Leah’s phone, and it comes to life.
She clicks immediately into the text messages.
They were from only one person.
Her daughter referred to him as Ry, and they said salacious things to each other, wildly inappropriate things, led by Ry.
There are photos...of their daughter naked, and Nate looks away.
“Jesus,” he mutters.
Emmy steels her heart. She keeps looking.
There are more pictures, of a hard penis, and a thread of texts with him telling Leah what he wanted her to do with it.
She gulps.
There are pictures of their limbs intertwined, and even a picture of his penis in her daughter’s face.
“Son of a bitch, who is this guy?” she murmurs frantically. There are more pictures of his penis, of her daughter’s breasts, of his hands on her breasts, squeezed so tightly her skin was red.
Emmy’s stomach is rolling; she feels she can’t breathe.
She hands the phone to Nate and sits on the bed, arching her back to open up her airway.
“Focus on the room, Emmy,” he tells her. “Focus on the colors. Tell me what you see.”
She lists off pieces of furniture, and shoes.
The room spins, but she manages to calm herself, to center herself by focusing on the tangible objects around her.
Finally, she exhales.
“I don’t think I can keep doing this,” she tells him. “Let’s take that phone to the police and let them figure it out. I can’t look at another picture. It’s killing me, Nate.”
He nods. “I know, honey. Take a few minutes, and we’ll go. I’ll go if you want. Or I can go alone.”
“Thank you.”
He reaches over to grasp her hand, and for the hundredth time this week, she wonders why they ever got divorced.
“You’ve always been my rock,” she whispers. “I’ve always loved you, Nate.”
“I’ve always loved you, too, Emmy.”
He hugs her tight, and he smells so good.
She never felt whole without him. She never had.
She tells him so, and he agrees.
“I’ve tried, too, Em,” he says. “But I haven’t either. You’re a part of me. I don’t want to be without you. We can weather this storm together, can’t we? You and me.”
She nods and tears stream down her face.
He holds her tight, and finally, he pulls away.
“I’m going to take the phone to the detective, okay?”
She nods agreement.
“And then I’ll come straight back.”
She nods again.
He gets up, clutching the phone in his hand. Against his will, he finds himself looking at it as he rushes down the stairs.
He freezes when he sees the face.
“Emmy!” he calls, his voice wooden.
“Yes?” She appears in the doorway.
He turns the phone around so she can see.
Emmy gasps as she looks into the face of Skye’s father, Jason Hayden.
Chapter Forty-Three
September 3
In his anger and haste, her father had made the mistake of taping Skye’s hands in front of her. Skye lifted them and managed to pull the tape off her mouth. She rolled to the wall and, using it as a brace, she was able to stagger to her feet.
The cavern smelled of excrement and the tang of urine. She didn’t want to breathe it in, but she had no choice.
Hopping on uneven legs, she reached Leah and pulled the tape off her mouth and the necktie off her eyes. Then she lost her balance and fell to the floor. Her head hit the stone, but she shook it off.
“Leah, are you okay?” she said, and her lips stung from the tape.
Leah nodded. “I’m okay. I’m so sorry, Skye.”
Her voice was husky, thick. She hadn’t spoken in weeks.
Skye was able to study her now. Leah was so thin that her ribs protruded from her back. “Has he been feeding you?”
“Only a little,” Leah said. “Every few days. Mostly water.”
And semen. She didn’t mention that.
“My father is a monster,” Skye said aloud. “How could I not know that?”
“No one knew it,” Leah answered bitterly. “He hid it well.”
“How did you... I mean, what happened?”
Leah shrugged sadly, her shoulder painfully bony. “It happened so fast. I don’t know. I’m sorry. Our relationship was sick, and I can’t believe I allowed myself to be drawn in... It wasn’t me. I mean, it wasn’t like me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Skye asked, and her voice was shredded with hurt. Leah flinched.
“Because he’s your dad,” she answered simply. “Skye, he said he was going to kill me. We’ve got to get out of here.”
They look around, at the stone walls and then at each other, helpless.
“Can you try to get my hands free?” Leah asked. “Maybe we can get the tape off and run.”
Skye rolled to the back of the chair, shoving with her feet. As she looked at the tape that looped thickly around Leah’s ankles, her heart sank. “There’s a lot,” she said aloud.
“Just try,” Leah urged her. “Your dad will be back.”
Skye tugged at the tape, inching the edge farther and farther back. It was difficult with her own hands bound, and an achingly slow process.
“How’s my mom?” Leah asked as Skye worked.
Skye was silent.
“Skye?” Leah urged.
“She’s grieving,” Skye finally said. “She’s lost without you, actually. She came to talk to youth group...we had a memorial service. God. I can’t believe you’re here. And you’ve been here this whole time. You’re alive. You’re really alive.”
“It’s okay,” Leah said quietly. “You didn’t know. He meant to do it this way. He didn’t want anyone to find me.”
“How’d my father do it?” Skye asked. “We thought you drowned. The Coast Guard said there was a shark...”
“I was floating on my board,” Leah said, remembering. “Something rammed into me, and I thought it was a shark, too, honestly. There was a sharp pain in my head. So he must’ve knocked me out somehow. He was waiting for me. I had texted him earlier and told him I couldn’t see him anymore...that it was wrong. I think he came to my house, and when he saw me outside, he came for me. I didn’t see him coming.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, but she was so dehydrated that tears couldn’t form. Her throat was hot and thick.
“This serves me right,” she continued. “I deserve this. I can’t believe what I did, Skye. You must hate me.”
Skye paused. “I don’t know what I feel,” she said honestly. “I love you. You’re my best friend. I don’t know what happened, and I don’t know if I want to think about it. What I do know is, I hate my father. I can’t understand how he could be so sick.”
“I hate him, too,” Leah admitted.
“What has he done to you?”
Leah’s mouth pressed together. “I can’t tell you,” she managed to say. “You can’t know. You’ll never look at me the same.”
Skye focused on the tape again, her hands shaking. “I’m sorry, Leah,” she said raggedly. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“So my mom’s not doing too good?” Leah continued, changing the subject and biting at her lip. Everything hurt. Her face, her hands, her legs. Her stomach stopped aching from hunger days ago. That couldn’t be a good sign.
“She’s struggling,” Skye admitted. “But she’s okay. Your dad is in town right now.”
“He is?” Leah was surprised. “Why?”
“To help your mom, I guess. She knows that something bad was going on with you. She was trying to figure out who you were involved with. She found your blog...”
“Oh, God.” Leah was stricken.
“Yeah.”
“Keep working the binding,” Leah told her. “We’ve got to get out of here.” She looked around. “I had no idea where I was this whole time. I should’ve guessed.”
“How could you know?” Skye said, working on the tape as best she could.
“The sound.”
Beyond them, outside of the stone, the ocean crashed relentlessly against the shore.
Chapter Forty-Four
September 3
Liam and Derek paced on the beach, keeping an eye on the big house on the shore.
“The detective was just there,” Liam told Derek. “Something is going on.”
Derek nodded. Something was going on, and Emmy’s ex-husband was there to help, instead of him. He didn’t know how he felt about that. After his own ex-wife had been unfaithful, he didn’t think he was in any position to be with a woman who was as close to her ex as Emmy was to Nate. He would have liked to believe he could do it, but he didn’t think he could.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Derek told Liam. “I know you’re probably just moving here to help figure out what was going on with Leah, but I’m still glad you’re here.”
“And I’m glad you weren’t part of it,” Liam said honestly. Derek was startled.
“So, you believe me now?”
Liam nodded. “I don’t think I ever really thought you would do something like that, but everything got muddled up...and...”
“Don’t worry about it,” Derek said quickly.
They heard shouting, and both turned at the same time. Emmy stood on the porch of the Black Dolphin, waving her arms to get their attention. They rushed to her, anxious to see what was happening.
“Have you seen Skye?” Emmy said to Liam.
He shook his head. “No.”
“Have you heard from her today? A text, anything?”
He shook his head, and Emmy bit her lip. She pulled out her phone and texted someone.
“What’s wrong, Emmy?” Derek asked quickly. Emmy was clearly upset, clearly anxious.
“It was Jason Hayden,” Emmy said bluntly. “He was the one who molested my daughter. And now Skye isn’t home. No one knows where she is.”
“Jesus,” Derek said. “Jason Hayden? I left him a voice mail...to find me a house. I’m speechless.”
“Is Skye in danger?” Liam asked. “Would he hurt his own daughter?”
“We don’t know,” Emmy said honestly. “We don’t know what’s going on in his mind. Apparently, no one ever really knew him at all. The police are trying to find him right now.”
* * *
Across the island, Jason rushed into his garage and dug in his locked tool chest. He kept it locked for a reason. Triumphantly, he pulled out his Glock 9mm, sticking it in the waistband of his pants. Before anyone could see him, he got back into his car and peeled out, anxious to get back to the catacombs.
He sped through town, and was quickly on the coastal highway. Glancing down, he laid the pistol on the seat next to him. When he looked back up, there were red-and-blue lights in the rearview mirror.
“Son of a bitch,” he mumbled, looking down at his speedometer. He wasn’t speeding. Confused, he looked up to find a police car blocking the road in front of him, as well.
Son of a bitch.
They know.
He knew it in his gut. He pulled the gun onto his lap, as yet another police car fell into place behind him.
They definitely know.
He pulled off to the side of the road and stepped out of the car, his mind reeling.
A cop stood behind his open car door and yelled into a megaphone.
“Lower your weapon!”
Jason stood still, the gun dangling in his hand.
His gaze darted around his periphery, checking his options. He could run, but he wouldn’t get far. They knew his name now.
They knew what he’d done.
“Lower your weapon!” the officer shouted again, louder this time.
He held it, without raising or lowering it.
“Where is your daughter?” the police officer yelled.
He thought of Skye and Leah, bound in the stone room by the sea. They’ll die there together. His path forward was clear. The knowledge of where they were would die with him. No one would find them until it was too late.
He didn’t have any compunction or guilt.
“You’ll never find them.”
He raised his gun, and amid the rapid firing of the policemen around him, he shot himself in the mouth. The back of his head exploded onto the car behind him in a splatter of crimson and gray.
He was dead instantly.
From behind the policemen, his wife, Christy, screamed, and someone had to restrain her. “Where’s my daughter?” she screamed. “What has he done?”
No one knew the answer.
Chapter Forty-Five
September 3
Christy rests on the sofa in the Hayden home while Nate, Derek, Hutch, and Liam gather in the kitchen around the table. I make chamomile tea to take back in to Christy, and the men watch me nervously.
“Where should we look for Skye?” Liam asks, anxious to be doing something. It has been two hours since the police sent us back here, and we haven’t heard anything since.
“We should stay here in case she comes home,” I tell them, dunking the tea bags. My hands are shaking, though. I know this mother’s pain. I’ve been there.
“I can go look,” Liam insists. “We don’t all need to be here. Dad and I can go.”
“The police told us to come here,” Derek says hesitantly. Liam stares at him.
“They also never took Emmy seriously when she went to them with her concerns about Leah and...Jason.”
He says the name aloud, reluctantly. No one has said it since Jason killed himself in the street.
Everyone is still shell-shocked, maybe me most of all. When I think of all the times I allowed Leah to spend the night in this house, that close to a pedophile...it chills my blood. It reminds me that you can never truly know someone.
“Did he ever act strangely in front of you?” I ask Liam. I know he hadn’t been around him a lot, but he was still there some. Liam shakes his head.
“Not at all. I never would’ve known.”
“Me either.” Christy speaks from the doorway, pale and shaky. “I never knew.”
“Come on...let’s get back in and lie down,” I tell her, rushing to support her elbow. But she yanks away angrily.
“Don’t touch me!”
My head rears back, and Nate stands up. “Your daughter was carrying on with my husband,” Christy spits out. “Now he’s dead. I don’t want you here.”
“You shouldn’t be alone,” I tell her quietly, trying to calm her. “You’re upset. This isn’t my fault.”
“No?” Christy shrieks. “My baby is gone. Your daughter caused all of this. If she hadn’t chased after Jason, none of this would’ve happened. I saw the way she traipsed around here in her sports bra and shorts. She was begging for attention.”
She collapses into a crying heap and I have to restrain myself. I look pleadingly at Nate, and he and Hutch help her back to the living room. Liam awkwardly trails behind.
“She’s wrong,” Derek tells me. “This isn’t your fault.”
“No, it isn’t,” I agree. “I lost my daughter, too. Her husband was to blame. He was the adult. My Leah was a minor. What he did was criminal. Christy just can’t process it yet. She needs to blame me instead.”
“You’re very understanding,” he observes.
I shake my head. “No. I just know her pain. And I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself. Until now.”
Now I have a face to focus on. Jason Hayden’s.
If only I was there to see him blow his brains out. That would’ve been gratifying.
“Are you and your ex getting back together?” Derek asks me quietly, his eyes knowing.
My hands still. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
He nods. “Okay. That’s fair.”
“You’re a great guy,” I rush to say, but he holds up a hand, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, God. Please don’t,” he says quickly.
I smile. “Okay. But truly, you are. I’m sorry I doubted you.”
“It’s okay,” he assures me. “I would’ve done the same in your shoes.”
I don’t know if that’s true, but I can’t feel guilty. I have to look at all the options.
“Does knowing help?” he asks, his hand on my shoulder. I think about that.
I think about my baby, her innocence gone...all of the pictures I’ve seen, the words I’ve read...and now, to have a face to put with the crime.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “It helps that he’s dead. Is that terrible?”
“I don’t think so,” he says. “I don’t blame you at all.” He takes the teacup from me. “I’ll take this to her. Why don’t you go get some air? Your cheeks are flushed.”
I nod and let him take it. Then I head out the back door, stand on their porch, and listen to the ocean.
Their private beach abutts their house, and it is only steps until I am standing in the sand, staring at the outline of the moon. It is only early evening, so it isn’t fully dark, but it’s dark enough to feel the chill of the water. I gather my sweater more tightly around my shoulders.
I feel my daughter out there.
In the middle of the chaos, among the white noise and the chatter, there is a stillness there, a safe space. It is the eye of the storm where my grief is silent, and the world no longer speaks to me. This is where I hear her. On the beach, my feet in the sand.
This is where she loved to be.
“I miss you,” I whisper. I imagine my words being carried on the breeze, up to Heaven where she can hear them. “I miss you so much.”
