Faith, Honor & Freedom (14 page)

I pick myself up, forcing the air to be pushed in and out of my lungs rhythmically once again. I begin the slow torturous walk back to the hospital empty handed. Is this what Jade felt when she left? Did she want to keep the baby, or had this been her plan all along? Surely she wouldn’t have chosen this if she didn’t have to. She didn’t seem cruel and calculated. She seemed scared and lonely. I wipe the tears from my face before entering the building once again. I head straight for the bathroom and lock the door behind me. I need a moment to gather my thoughts before facing the world again.

I take a cautious glance in the mirror, and what’s staring back at me is worse than I anticipated. My face is red and blotchy, my eyes puffy, my hair covered in tears and snot stuck to my forehead. It’s absolutely horrifying. I turn the faucet on cold and splash water on my face and in the affected areas of my hair.

Slowly but surely, I begin to look human again. I am definitely still an emotional wreck, but it’s such a physical improvement from ten minutes ago that I feel my humanity returning. I can handle this. I take a deep breath and try to formulate a plan.

What do I know about her? I know her name is Jade Comeau. I know she sleeps in a church basement, and I know Marnie knows her.

Bingo!

I rush out of the hospital and back into the parking lot where I jump in my car. I need privacy to make this call. I pull out my cell phone and scroll through my contact numbers until I reach Marnie. I hit call, and pray for the best. She answers the phone on the third ring.

“Hey,” she says in greeting.

“Hey Marnie, this is Lana Carter.”

“Hey Lana, how are you doing?” she asks kindly.

“Not so great actually. I was wondering what you could tell me about Jade Comeau.”

“Jade Comeau?” she asks incredulously. “I’m not sure I know anyone by that name …” I feel my heart start to sink. How did she hear about me if it wasn’t from Marnie? How would she know that Marnie was even a client of mine? I try again.

“Blonde hair, green eyes, homeless, looks to be about fourteen, but claims she is sixteen. She said you referred her to me.”

“Oh, you mean Carla?” she asks, still confused. I stop breathing, as goose bumps appear on my arms. She lied about her name … I’m never going to find her.

“That might be it. She was pregnant.”

“Was?”

“Yes, she had the baby. Do you have any idea where she might be? She mentioned a church she was sleeping in.”

“No, she has never stayed at my church, I think she has in others, though. We have a lot of contacts, I’ll definitely call around. The thought of her and that poor baby out there on their own breaks my ever lovin’ heart,” she says sadly. I figure it’s important she knows the truth, so she knows just who she’s looking for.

“Actually she will be on her own; the baby is still in the hospital.” I hear her surprised gasp on the other end of the line, and swallow audibly. “Is there anywhere at all you can think of that she would have gone? How long have you known her?”

“Oh, I’ve only ever met her the once. She showed up at the church during Sunday service a few weeks ago. We could tell she’d fallen on hard times, and we all tried to help her. We offered her the church basement to sleep in. Ellen takes care of the basement—helps feed and clothe at least a dozen people every night. Carla refused, though. I asked her if she was seeing a doctor, and she didn’t answer me. I was worried about her, so I gave her your number. We were going to use church funds to help pay you, so that she would have some support, someone to talk to. We were hoping you could convince her to see a doctor,” she says desolately. “She did see a doctor, right?”

“Not to my knowledge. She contacted me the same day her water broke.”

“Oh, Lana, I’m so sorry. If I had known she was going to flee, I would have never mentioned you. I was just coming off my birth high when I spoke with her. I was still singing your praises to anyone who would listen within a ten-mile radius. I should have sent her to Sadie, or even a doctor. We told her we would help pay for one of those, too. She never came back after that, and I never thought to call you. Things have just been so busy here, and my, I’m rambling again, aren’t I?” she says apologetically.

“It’s okay Marnie. I just need to find her. I’m scared she’s not going to come back for the baby.”

“I’m on it, and I’ll send my husband out to check some churches as well. If she’s in any church in the state of Oregon, I’ll make sure you know about it.”

“Thanks Marnie. I appreciate it.”

We exchange our goodbyes, and I hang up the phone solemnly. I was certain that conversation was going to end better than it did. So far, all I’ve found is that one, or both of the names she’s been using are fakes. I slam my forehead against my steering wheel. Where could she have gone in such a short amount of time?

I call Julie back and hope for the best.

“Oregon Healthy Kids Program,” she answers.

“Hey Julie, it’s Lana calling you back.”

“Hey Lana, I was actually just about to call you,” Julie starts, and I know the lead is over.

“Let me guess, she doesn’t exist,” I say, sinking down into my seat.

“I’m afraid not. Is she registered in another state? No one with that name and birthdate is registered in the State of Oregon. I ran it on a few neighboring states out of curiosity, but no hits there either. I also tried seeing if anyone was born at all that year with her name, but no luck. Maybe a session with a counselor might yield a real name?”

“Damn it,” I say, sinking down into my seat. “She’s gone, so I’m not able to arrange that at the moment.”

“I’m so sorry Lana. I hope whatever it is works out for you. Call me again, if you need anything else.”

“I will, thanks Julie,” I say, hanging up the phone.

I take a minute to relax before starting the jeep and pulling out of the parking lot. I stop at the only other place I’ve known her to go, the café on LeMarchant. It’s a long shot, but I’ve got nothing to lose.

A few minutes later, I’m feeling defeated again. She’s not in the café. I asked the employees behind the desk if they’ve seen a woman matching her description, but they haven’t.

I climb back in my car, feeling like I’ve accomplished nothing at all. This was not how I envisioned my day going yesterday morning—having sex with Hoss, him running away, helping a teenage girl give birth, and then her running away. It’s all been quite the disaster. I take a deep breath and drive to the only place I have left that might be able to help me.

Chapter 10

Hoss

“Shit,” I utter, looking over the mountain of forensic test results that have come back from Jenny Owens’s house. They all say the same thing—there’s nothing. Absolutely fuck all to go on. The crime scene may have looked sloppier, and the murder may have been quicker, but the bastard covered his tracks well. I scan the lists of recovered items for anything out of the ordinary, anything that I couldn’t see being in her house before the murder, or anything that might be missing.

I grab the list of jewelry she was known to have, a list her mom and siblings compiled, and compare it against what we have recovered from her house. It’s a tedious process as she has close to a hundred items. In the end, I’m rewarded with a single missing necklace. It’s possible she lent it to someone, or even lost it, but it’s all I have right now, and I’ll take it. Hopefully we can find a photo of the necklace to release to the public. More than likely, though, he keeps it in some sort of sick, twisted shrine to his victims, and we’re most likely to find it during a search. We’ve seen it too much before.

I check my email and see another rant from Emma. She’s starting to pressure me to commit to something, which is a joke, considering we have never had anything emotional between us. If I’m being honest with myself, especially after having sex with Lana, there isn’t anything physical between us either. I send her an email back telling her to please, find someone else to marry her, as I have never, and will never, have any interest in doing so. Bit of a dickhead move, but so was sending those emails in the first place.

I hear a loud knock on my door. “Yeah,” I say, turning toward it. “Someone here to see you,” Doris, my secretary says, peeking her head in.

“Who?”

“Lana,” she answers, and my heart stops beating.

“Ah, give me a minute, and then send her in, yeah?”

She nods her head, and closes the door. “Fuck.” Last night was incredible, and terrible all at the same time. Being with Lana just felt right, it was better than I could have ever imagined, and I’ve been dreaming of it for years. Once I had the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had, the guilt immediately washed over me.

I left last night and went straight to the cemetery. I can’t believe I thought with my dick instead of my head. I’m a fucking disgrace. I had to tell Rhett I failed him. I’ve never been able to keep anything from him, and I certainly wasn’t going to try and hide this. The memory comes flashing back in my mind, and the pain cripples me.

Twelve years ago
…

I watch as she closes her locker door and walks away from me, her hips swaying with every step she takes. She’s wearing a neon pink mini skirt, and a little white shirt that exposes one of her shoulders and part of her back as it dips down. I fight the urge to catch up to her and run my tongue along the edge.

My dick jumps, and I curse the fucking thing. Only Lana can make me act this way in public. It’s humiliating.

“Fuck off man,” Rhett says, punching me hard in the shoulder. “She’s sixteen, you sick bastard.” I don’t argue with him, because he’s right. With a two-year age difference between us, I’d made myself promise not to touch her until she was sixteen, and here it was, and Rhett still wouldn’t cave. It didn’t stop me from thinking about her though. I’d miss her when I went to the college in a few months, but I knew she would never be out of my life completely. She meant too much to me.

“So did your parents leave this morning?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Yeah, they’re gone,” he says with a wicked grin. “Let’s try and keep it under thirty people, though. I don’t want shit broken and stolen.” I nod. Tanya and Steve are just like parents to me, too. I’d never do anything to really disrespect them. But I’m eighteen years old, and they chose to purposefully leave town. We had to throw a party, and I think deep down, they knew we would.

Vi comes bouncing toward me, clearly intoxicated. “Wessston,” she slurs. “I have something to tell you.” I look at her skeptically, as Rhett grabs her around the waist to keep her upright. She swats his hand away. “It’s a secret, Rhett, go away, not allowed to tell youuu.”

I look over at Rhett and roll my eyes. She loves to play stupid mind games when she’s drunk. “What is it Violet?”

“Lana is in lurveee wit you,” she says, almost incomprehensibly.

I immediately look away from Violet and to Rhett. His face is full of anger and betrayal. Fuck! He sets Violet down on the couch and grabs a hold of my arm roughly. “My room. Now!” I could make a bad joke, but I know now isn’t the time. I have never met a brother like Rhett before. He loves Lana fiercely, protects her, and I admire him even more for it. When I’m not thinking with my dick anyway.

“Yeah bro?” I ask, closing his door to drown out the sound of the music.

“I need to say something, and I need to make sure that it doesn’t ruin our friendship,” he says, still looking more pissed than scared of our demise.

“Yeah, man,” I answer nervously.

“She’s too good for you,” Rhett says, and it’s like a kick in the fucking nuts. I open my mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. I know he’s right, and that’s what hurts the most.

“I know,” is all I manage to get out.

“I see the way you look at her. You know I think of you like a brother, and I really don’t think there’s a better guy out there than you as a friend. But she’s my sister, man, and you’ll break her fucking heart. You’re not the guy she needs, and you know it.”

I nod, looking to Rhett. I know how much it hurt him to have to say this to me. I know he doesn’t judge me, but it’s his sister, and I understand why he had to say it.

“Look, I know she’s thought you were hot or whatever for a long time, but she really likes you man, and you need to do something to change that. Don’t make me break her heart. I need to be able to protect her, and if she pushes me away because of this, I can’t do my job.”

“All right,” I squeak out, sounding more like a pre-pubescent boy instead of the six foot, hundred and eighty pound man that I am.

“I’m sorry man, you know how much this fucking kills me to say to you. It does, but she deserves a prince—she deserves someone pure.”

“I know,” I say, turning and walking over to his window. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay brother,” he says, clapping me on the back. He turns and leaves his room, closing the door behind him. I let my shoulders fall, but that’s the only outward sign of hurt I let show. Finally, Lana wants me back, and I’m able to do dick all about it.

Fuck this. Fuck this life. Fuck him. I kick his garbage can over and head back out to the party.

Nine beers in and I’m starting to feel numb. Fucking finally. The party starts dying down and with each person that leaves, Lana keeps trying to get closer and closer to me. I catch the worried glances Rhett keeps shooting my way. I know I need to do something big, so I look around the room. The only girl who isn’t drunk is fucking Marsha Connors—red hair, huge tits, and a pea sized brain. I look over to Rhett a final time, and he nods his head toward the backyard. I understand what he’s trying to say. I down my beer, hoping for some liquid courage.

Having sex with Marsha will be annoying as shit, but I didn’t need the courage for that. No, I need it to break Lana’s heart.