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Authors: Erica Kiefer

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BOOK: Lingering Echoes
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I read the following report with dread, noting the earlier date.

Damien Michaels, 17, was admitted to the hospital last night, suffering third-degree burns on his back from a fire that destroyed the Michaels’ vacation home. The percentage of damage to the surface area of his skin has not yet been determined.

On the night of the blaze, firefighters were unable to reach the horrific scene in a
dequate time, due to the house’s isolated location. When they arrived on scene, Michaels was outside the building with severe burns to his back. His ten-year-old sister, Jenna, was with him, lying on the ground unconscious. She died while in the ambulance. The initial coroner’s report has not yet been released, but all indications suggest asphyxiation due to smoke inhalation.

Mr. and Mrs.
Michaels failed to escape the flames. Their bodies were recovered from the rubble this morning.

Early reports from the police department do not indicate the
source of the fire. However, Hidden Pines Police Department has not ruled out the possibility of arson.

A visual image of the dark discoloration plastered on Damien’s back
entered my mind. I rubbed my fingertips together, remembering the large, scarred surface area. I recalled Damien’s words from just a couple hours ago:

I’m afraid
for you to know what I’ve done...I’m not a good person, Allie.

My fingers touched my
lips, and I shook my head.

Aaron’s voice was gentler this time. “Don’t you see, Allie? He’s a sociopath.
He’s manipulating you. Tricking you into trusting him.” His lips tightened, his eyebrows curved downwards. “You’re not safe with him.”

I turned to the table, my h
ead beginning to spin. “Brooke, what else do the reports say? Was there a verdict?”

She nodded, picking up one m
ore page. Brooke scanned the report once more before summarizing. “Well, there wasn’t a ‘verdict’ because Damien was never formerly arrested as a suspect. The investigation is technically still open. Damien was always held under suspicion, but there was never enough information to continue pursuing him as a suspect.”              

“Doesn’t mean the scumbag’s innocent, though,” Nick said, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. He held one page in his hand and waved it at me. His voice dripped with mockery
. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Allie. Looks like you need to find yourself a new boyfriend.”

I
gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to react.

That’s what he wanted.
That’s what he always wanted.

Snatching
the page out of his hand, I gathered up the rest. I stalked away from them in quick strides, ignoring Brooke and Aaron’s calls. I needed time to think.

It was early the next morning that I cr
ept through the kitchen. Just past seven thirty, all else was quiet in the house. Even Clara, the earliest riser of us all, seemed to still be in bed. Being out on the boat must have worn them all out.

My hands slid along the counters, maneuvering around candles, pot
ted plants, the fruit basket...I drifted over to the dining table and picked up magazines and a damp towel.

Nothing.
Irritated, I shoved them away.

Where are they?

Moving into the living room, I checked over and under the coffee table with no luck. I started digging my hands between the couch cushions, crawling around on my hands and knees. A door shutting at the far end of the room caught my attention. I snapped my head up, my fingers still buried under the padding.

“Looking for something?”

Dad stepped away from his bedroom door. His wavy, brown hair, from where I inherited my own soft curl, was sticking up from where he’d slept on it, a disaster so reminiscent of how mine often faired in the morning. He was still wearing his loose, checkered pajama bottoms and last year’s family reunion T-shirt.

I
stood up and rearranged the cushions into their proper places. “Um, yeah. I’m looking for the car keys.”

“Oh. Where are you going?” He wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a mug from the cupboard. He gestured towards me, mug in hand. “Want some hot chocolate?”

“No, no thanks. I’m headed out. I couldn’t sleep anymore so I thought I’d drive into town and pick up some groceries. Have you seen the keys?”

“You know Clara just went the other day, don’t you? No need to make a wasted trip.” He turned on the microwave, heating up a mug of milk.

“Oh.” I dug my toes into the rug beneath me, silencing frustration. I tried again. “Well, I...thought I’d surprise Clara and make dinner tonight. There’s something in particular I want to make and it requires some specific ingredients. You know, one of those Food Network meals that have odd spices here and there.”

“Wonderful! That’s real nice of you, Allie. I’m sure Clara would love that. Hey, maybe you two could cook it together.”

I quit holding my breath and smiled back at him. “Yeah. Sure. So about the k—”

“How
about I go with you? I’ve been meaning to go into town anyway. There’s a bookstore I’d like to stop in. I bet you’ll find something you like, too.” He paused to retrieve his steaming mug. “You don’t mind, do you?”

I grit my teeth.
Is he trying to be difficult?
I forced a good-natured shrug of my shoulders. “Nope. Not at all, Dad.”

“Well, if you can
hold your horses until I finish this mug, I’ll grab the keys. I think they’re in Clara’s purse in the bedroom.”

It was after seven
by the time we jumped into the suburban and were on the road. The first ten minutes were quiet, while I tried to figure out how I was going to complete my agenda with Dad around. I hadn’t been through the canyon since we arrived at Hidden Pines, and I realized my stomach was not much more at ease than it was on the way up.

“W
e missed you on the boat yesterday. You should have come with us.”

So that’s how it was going to be.
Dad was still intent on getting me on the boat to “cure” me. Little did he know, Damien had already succeeded in getting me into the water, but I still didn’t like Dad’s plans to involve a therapist.

“That’s
all right. I was able to get some things done. Looks like you guys had fun though. Poor Brooke is sunburned, of course. You must have been out there for a few hours.” I smiled through our forced conversation.

“Y
eah, the boys enjoyed themselves. No one can compete with Aaron, but Nick’s getting better. Even Brooke gave it a try—multiple times, actually, without ever getting up—but at least she tried it.” Her failed efforts must have been amusing to watch because he laughed. “She’s a good kid.”

His next words were said with uncertainty. “I’m renting the boat again
this afternoon. I don’t suppose...you want to come out with us today?” He cleared his throat and awaited my slow response.

I tapped my finger against the steering wheel. Somehow, I no longer believed
Dad needed this trip into town anymore than I needed my “special ingredients”. If I didn’t have other concerns on my mind, I might have been angrier at his cornering approach. As it was, I remained calm.

“Dad,
is this about the intervention again?” I caught a look of guilt wash over his face before I returned my attention to the windshield.

“Am I that transparent?”

“Yes. You know, for a writer, you’d think you might be a little more creative in your tactics.” I smiled so he knew I was teasing. He seemed relieved that I wasn’t angry, but I could still see the distress on his face.

“Allie, it’s just that you were such a water bug. You’ve always l
oved the water. To see you cut yourself off from it almost feels like you’ve given up a part of yourself.”

“Dad, I—”

He cut me off with a raise of his index finger, silencing my efforts to tell him about Damien and swimming at the waterfall. “There’s something else I want to say first.” He sighed, rubbing his head. “I know since your mom and I divorced, I haven’t been around much. I thought about what you said to me the other day. No, don’t feel bad. You’re right. We haven’t talked much and it got me thinking about the past few years.

“I
know I messed up. I’m more ashamed than you know, and I wish that’s all it took for your mom and me to resolve everything. But it was my fault. I let things between us slip too far. And after what I did that summer, there was no coming back from that—not when we weren’t standing on solid ground to begin with. Then after you moved away, I became so caught up with work and meeting Clara and Nick that somewhere along the way, you got pushed to the side, and you grew up without me. I see that now. But for selfish reasons, that’s also why I brought you up to the cabin for a longer visit. I’ve lost so much time with you.”

An uncomfortable part of me cringed inside. This soft, emotional side of
Dad was so unfamiliar that I was unsure how to react. Had I been able to run, I might have fled, but another part of me was curious, almost yearning for this lost interaction, and so I continued to listen.

“To be honest, the whole idea of trying to help you ove
rcome your fears and how much you hurt from Maddie’s death—it was a little bit for me, too. I haven’t always made the right decisions. In fact, we both know I’ve made some irrevocable mistakes that hurt the whole family.”

I squirmed, recalling my callous comments regarding his affair.
Dad continued.

“I guess in part, that’s why I wanted to be a part of helping you heal, to feel like I could contribute to your life again. And that’s not
fair to you. I know that now. So, if you want, I will call Aunt Heidi’s therapist and decline his offer to come out.”

I waited another minute to be sure he was finished. We exited the canyon, entering the small town of Twain
Harte. I pulled over to the side of the road and parked, but neither of us made a move to get out. I spoke, feeling a spark of sincerity and affection for him that had dwindled over the years.

“Thanks
for explaining. It makes a little more sense why you wanted me to come up here. Doesn’t mean I agree with your methods, but I can see why you did it. And I am sorry for what I’ve said to you.” I looked down at my hands, picking at old nail polish. My thoughts turned to the past four years, remembering the quiet, yet fierce, pain that echoed through the home—a home where a mother and her three daughters struggled to feel whole. Our family had been severed—disconnected from stability, turning our home into merely a place of shelter.

“What
I said in my room the other day...I didn’t even realize how angry I was about it until it came out. I shouldn’t have said that about you leaving us. It must have been hard on you, too.” I sighed, feeling the loss I had tucked away. The unraveling continued. I could feel it in my heart.

“What else are you feeling, Allie?”
Dad asked. “You can be honest.”

I fought to ma
intain composure, but I wanted to be truthful, to let him in. “It’s been hard being back up here, Dad. All the emotions from Maddie drowning a year ago still feel so fresh. It’s like picking at a wound that maybe never quite healed in the first place. She was so young. It just wasn’t fair.” A burning lump started to form in my throat. It seemed to have made a permanent residence there these days.

Dad
put an arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into him, resting my head against his shoulder. “Honey, it’s ok. Nobody blames you. You know that, right?”

I sniffled but didn’t answer, letting the fresh tears soak a puddle into his shirt. I blew out a bre
ath of air, trying to recover, but I didn’t move. Instead, I enjoyed the comfort of my father’s arms.

He kissed the top of my head, failing to hide a sniffle of his own.

I sat up in surprise, braving a smile as I caught sight of his watery eyes. “Dad, are you crying?”

He cleared his throat and looked out the window. “You’re my little girl. When you’re
sad, it hurts me, too.”

I smiled, my eyes brimming again, and buried my he
ad against him once again. “Dad, I’m not that little.”

He patted my head. “Doesn’t matter how old you get. I’ll always be your father. And I’m going to do a better job of being right here for you
, ok?”

I nodded my head. “Ok.”

We sat for another minute, both of us lost in thought. Dad cleared his throat.

“Uh, one other thin
g. About this guy you’re seeing...”

I sat up in my seat. I could no longer ignore the anxiety building in my stomach.
I waited for him to continue speaking.


Except for the other night, I’m sure the last time we ever had a conversation about boys was about how they have cooties. In fact, I do remember trying my best to emphasize that point....”

“Dad—”
I protested.

“Allie, I’m sorry.
I know you’re going to college and I can’t control who you see or what you’re going to do with your life, but I just want you to be careful. Just make good choices. You have the rest of your life ahead of you, and the way it turns out starts with the decisions you make right now.” Dad paused before putting a hand on my shoulder. “That’s all I wanted to say. All right?”

I didn’
t even know how to respond. I had too much confusing information in my head at the moment, and I just needed to get some real answers before I could make any decisions. I licked my lips, trying to restore the sudden dryness in my mouth.

“Dad, things ar
e a little uncertain in that area. I need to sort some things out first. But I’ll keep your advice in mind.”

He looked at me with questions in his eyes, but
gave a simple nod of his head. “Ok. I trust you.”

I s
miled in relief. “Thanks. So, should we get going? We don’t want to get back too late if we want enough time on the boat.”

Dad
raised his eyebrows at my final comment, looking pleased. “Ok then. Let’s get this show on the road.”

With a mere fifteen-
minute drive down the canyon, Twain Harte was a convenient and busy little town. Its close proximity to the lake attracted a consistent stream of business. Overall, the local people were proactive and friendly, catering much of their work life towards the year-round visitors.

“Should we hit the bookstore first?”
Dad asked. It was just a couple more blocks further from where we were.

I needed some time alone.

“You go ahead. I’m going to stop in a few stores along the way and do some window shopping.”

Dad
pulled out his wallet and extracted a few twenties. “Well, don’t hesitate if you see something you like.”

I accepted the money
, feeling guilty while I slid it into my handbag. No time to argue. “Thanks. I’ll meet you down there in a bit.”

BOOK: Lingering Echoes
12.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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