Whispered Melodies, page 26
“Yes, ma’am.”
She’d done this before, many times. Miss Biggs didn’t even need to give her a points chart. Paige just did the math in her head and took four points off for each misspelled word, placing the score at the top of the paper. If someone had a perfect score, she would draw smiley faces inside the two zeroes of the 100.
Glancing up after she finished grading the stack of spelling tests, she saw Danny Henderson glaring at her. She narrowed her eyes and glared right back. He rolled his eyes and mouthed a dirty word and went back to his book. She didn’t tattle on him. Mama had told her not to, saying Danny was a bully and that Paige should ignore him.
She brought the papers to Miss Biggs, who gave her a note to take to the office. Paige loved being in the halls when no one else was in them. It was as if the entire school belonged to her. She loved school. Mama said that was a good thing because if Paige wanted to go to college, she would need to do well in school and earn a scholarship. Mama had gone a year to community college and said she always regretted not having more education. But Daddy had come along and charmed her into marriage.
She wondered what Daddy had been like before the drinking. She had looked at pictures of her parents in those early years. They looked so young and happy. Mama was thirty now, but Paige thought she looked much older than that. And Daddy had looked terrible on Christmas, with his bloodshot eyes and uncombed hair and stubble on his face. Paige swore she would never get married and if she did, her husband would never drink and he would shave every day.
After she returned from her trip to the office and reading time ended, they broke into groups for a half-hour to work on a Social Studies project, then it was time for lunch and then recess. She had her usual peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich, along with a banana. It was the lunch she had started making for herself so that Mama didn’t have to. Paige had learned to do lots of things for herself when she was young. Mama had worked in a restaurant before The Divorce and she always said customers at night tipped better. Daddy was supposed to stay with Paige when Mama waited tables nights, but he rarely did. She had learned to take a bath and brush her teeth and hair and put herself to bed, even saying her prayers, while Daddy was out doing whatever he did with whomever he did it.
It was okay. They were okay. The Divorce had been good for them. It let her and Mama live with Nana and she didn’t have to worry about Daddy yelling at her or slapping her or punching Mama. Paige didn’t realize how tense everything at home was until after The Divorce and they moved to Nana’s. Nana baked banana bread, cakes, and pies, and she cooked a heavenly goulash. She hummed when she did her housework and let Paige watch TV. She and Paige worked in the vegetable garden together. Life was blissful, one of this week’s spelling words.
At recess, her stomach dropped to her knees when she saw Daddy standing at the far end of the schoolyard. He was on the other side of the fence and beckoned her—another spelling word last week—to come over. She did so. Reluctantly.
“Hi, baby girl,” he said.
She ran her eyes up and down him. He was dressed decently, his clothes clean, a flannel shirt and a pair of jeans. His eyes were clear. He smiled, all his attention on her, and suddenly Paige could see how Mama might have fallen in love with a younger version of him.
“Hey, Daddy,” she said cautiously. “Why’re you here? I haven’t seen you in four months. Not since Christmas.”
“I wanted to apologize about Christmas,” he began. “I was in a bad place back then. I want to make it up to you. What about after school I take you to get some ice cream?”
Her belly did a flip-flop, her guard still up. Daddy had never taken her for ice cream, not once in her life. Her body tingled in a funny way, and she knew she shouldn’t trust him.
“I’ve got newspaper club today,” she told him, hoping he would understand. “We’re turning in our stories and deciding what’ll be in the newspaper we put out next week. It’s our April edition. It’ll be published before Easter.”
“I’ll bet you have a great story for them,” he praised.
“I do. Two, in fact.”
He looked pleadingly at her. “Could you turn your stories in and then go for ice cream with me? Please?”
Against her better judgment, Paige heard herself say, “Okay. But just for a little while. And you’ll need to drop me off a block from home.”
Anger suddenly sparked in his eyes. “Why? Does that old woman still talk bad about me?”
“Nana never talks bad about you,” she said, defending her grandmother. “She never talks about you at all.”
“Hmm.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Paige said, “I need to go. Recess is over.”
“All right, baby girl.”
“I’m not a baby anymore, Daddy. I’m in fourth grade. I’m nine—almost ten.”
He grinned. “Whatever you say. See you soon.”
Paige ran and fell in at the back of the line of students entering the building. She focused on the math worksheet waiting on her desk, not wanting to think about Daddy or The Divorce or what Mama might say about her skipping newspaper club to go eat a treat with Daddy.
When the bell rang, Miss Biggs dismissed them, reminding them newspaper club would start in ten minutes.
She let the class file out before she approached Miss Biggs, her two stories in hand.
“Miss Biggs? I can’t stay today—but here are my stories. One is on the Sugar Springs farmers’ market starting back up. The other is the interview I did with the fire chief.”
Her teacher accepted them. “Oh, I’ll bet they are wonderful, Paige. You are such a strong writer. It is a delight to read your work.”
“I want to be a writer when I grow up.”
Miss Biggs smiled approvingly. “I think you’ll make for a terrific writer. I’m sorry you can’t stay today.”
She thought Miss Biggs would have asked her why she couldn’t stay after school, but she didn’t. Paige said goodbye and returned to her desk, collecting her backpack and heading out the front door of the school. She glanced up and down the street, not seeing Daddy. A tiny part of her felt disappointed. He’d probably already forgotten he promised to take her for ice cream. It sure would’ve tasted good, now that spring had arrived.
Dejected, she turned east and began walking home, not in the mood to go back to newspaper club. She hadn’t gone two blocks when a horn honked beside her. Turning, she saw a black pickup truck, Daddy behind the wheel.
“Get in,” he called cheerfully.
She did so, asking, “When did you get a new truck?”
“Oh, I borrowed it from a friend. I did a few favors for him, and he’s letting me use it for a while.”
“Oh.”
She buckled her seatbelt and locked her door, always conscious about safety, especially with her father behind the wheel. But she hadn’t smelled any beer on his breath. His eyes still looked bright and clear. Relaxing, she began answering his questions about school.
Then Paige realized they were leaving town. Panic filled her.
“Where are we going?”
“Oh, just the next town over from Sugar Springs. They’ve got a new ice cream place. I think you’ll like it.”
Uneasiness filled her. She tamped it down, wanting to trust him, wanting desperately for him to be a dad like all the other dads.
He pointed to the cup holder. “Hey, I got you a drink. You still like lemonade, right?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Paige was thirsty and drank the cold, refreshing lemonade quickly. Lemonade was a treat she didn’t get very often.
They were on the highway now. She sighed, feeling sleepy. Her eyelids grew heavy and she leaned her head against the window.
When she woke up, it was dark.
And they were still driving.
“Daddy? Where are we? Where are we going?” she demanded, keeping her tone even though panic swelled within her, causing her heart to race.
He turned, his face no longer affable—a spelling word from two weeks ago.
“We’re going away for a bit,” he informed her, his voice harder now.
“Where? Why?”
“Because I need to punish that bitch,” he spat out.
She sensed the waves of anger rolling off him and wanted to make herself small. Then she noticed the open beer can in the cup holder next to him.
And three others crushed and in the floorboard beneath her feet.
“She ruined everything,” he railed. “She couldn’t like me for who I am. She was always complaining. She said I couldn’t see you.”
“That was the court, Daddy. And they did say you could—”
“Shut your trap!” he roared, slamming his fist into her belly.
Pain filled her, followed by terror when she couldn’t breathe. He hadn’t hit her in a long time. She was out of practice. The air would come. It just took a minute. Her brain told her not to worry, that her insides were paralyzed, but they would unfreeze.
When they did, she gasped air into her lungs, breathing quick and hard. She realized now he had drugged her. The dashboard clock said eight forty-eight. She had no idea where they were or how far away from Sugar Springs they’d gone. Mama would be getting home soon. Nana would be worried. They would call the police. They would look for her. They had to. Please, God, let them find her.
Daddy continuing cursing and badmouthing Mama. What Paige got out of his rant—a last year spelling word that fit Daddy’s words to perfection---was that he didn’t really want her. He just didn’t want Mama and Nana to have her. She worried he might kill her and dump her body somewhere. She had to pretend to like him. Pretend to like what he was doing.
It just might save her life.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
His head whipped toward her. “For what?” he asked, suspicion in his eyes.
“For coming for me. I always liked you better than Mama. I’m glad we can live together. I know you said you don’t want me, but I can be good, Daddy. I can help you. I’ll clean and cook for you. I’ll take care of you. You’ll be so happy you came and got me.”
“Huh.”
They drove on into the night.
“You’ll need a new name. We both will.”
Smiling brightly, hoping he bought into her act, Paige asked, “Can I pick it, Daddy? My new name?”
“Sure,” he said agreeably, surprising her.
“I think I’ll be Nancy,” she said. “After Nancy Drew. She’s a girl detective. Nana bought me some of the books at a garage sale, three for a quarter, and I—”
“Don’t talk about her again,” Daddy warned.
Paige played dumb. “Nancy Drew?”
“No, that woman. Or your mama.”
“Oh, okay.” Her mind raced, knowing she walked a tightrope. “But I can still be Nancy, right?”
“Sure. Be whoever the hell you want to be. Doesn’t matter to me.”
That worried Paige. It still sounded as if he were going to do something to her.
Well, she would do something first. She would get away. She would be smart like Nancy Drew always was.
And when she got back to Sugar Springs, she would never leave it. Ever again.
Tanner Haddock washed down his burger and fries with a Coke, enjoying the burn in his throat from the soft drink. Summertime was meant for drinking a cold Coke over crushed ice, and on this hot, late summer evening, the soft drink had hit the spot.
“Ready for dessert?” his mom asked.
“Really?”
“Whatever you want,” his dad added. “Pie. Ice cream. Call it an early birthday celebration.”
Annie, who owned the diner, came over. “Any dessert tonight, folks?”
He grinned. “I’d like a chocolate soda. Vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup. About half the glass filled with the soda water.”
Annie smiled. “Three scoops good enough, Tanner?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Pie for Helen and me,” Dad said. “Apple for both of us, Annie. Hold the ice cream.”
“You got it.” Annie jotted their orders onto her notepad and moved toward the counter.
“Thanks again, Dad,” Tanner said.
“You pitched a good game today, son. I thought a little treat would be nice.”
His parents started talking about a cow whose milk had dried up. Bored, he stared out the window, watching a truck pull into the parking lot. A man got out and motioned. A girl climbed out from the driver’s side. Tanner thought that odd, wondering why she didn’t get out on her side of the truck. Maybe the door was broken. But the truck looked pretty new.
As they moved across the parking lot, the man placed his hand on the girl’s neck. She winced, keeping her head down.
Something didn’t seem right.
His dad had always told him to pay attention to details. Not that Tanner wanted to go into police work, a job where you had to really look at the nitty-gritty. He wanted to either be a famous baseball player or an actor. Maybe both. Either way, he knew he wanted to leave Owens, Oklahoma. Living in a small town, everyone knew who he was, especially with Dad being the chief of police. He wanted to go somewhere that had a million people or more, not the two thousand plus in Owens. He wanted to see the world. Make money. Discover new things about himself.
The door to the diner opened and the man moved the girl through the opening. They had to be father and daughter. At least he thought they must be. Then he decided that he shouldn’t assume anything.
“Sit anywhere you’d like,” Annie called from behind the counter.
His family were the only customers in the diner since it was almost nine and closing time. Most people had eaten dinner long ago. They’d come from a baseball tournament two towns over, and Mom had suggested grabbing a quick dinner after his dad had stopped and changed a flat tire for the Baptist preacher’s wife on their way home. His little sister, Alana, was spending the night with a friend, so they didn’t have to worry about getting home to relieve a babysitter.
Now, he watched the man pick a table in the corner, his eyes searching the place. The girl sat, her head still bowed.
Tanner got a bad feeling. He continued watching them as Annie delivered dessert to the Haddocks, his father digging into the pie with gusto, his mother taking dainty bites. Tanner sipped some of the soda and then spooned ice cream into his mouth.
Annie took the newcomers’ orders and then the girl said something to the man. He nodded and they both stood up, Again, he put his hand on her neck, guiding her past their table.
Tanner’s gaze connected with the girl’s for a brief moment, and then they passed. He glanced down and saw she held her left hand out, palm facing him.
Help.
That was the word dug into her palm.
Cold fear puddled in his belly. Quickly, he swung his head around and watched them continue toward the restrooms. He turned and looked at his dad, who was talking and laughing.
“Gotta go to the restroom. Be right back,” he said, sliding from the booth and following the pair through the door.
The girl went into the ladies’ restroom. The man stayed in the tight space that led to both restrooms.
“Uh, excuse me,” Tanner said, brushing past the man and entering the men’s restroom.
Inside, his brain was spinning in fast-forward. The man lingering outside the door, waiting for the girl, was weird enough. She had to be at least nine or ten and should’ve been able to go to the restroom herself. But the fact that she’d carved HELP into her hand told him she was in trouble. Big trouble.
He washed his hands and left, the man still hovering outside, waiting for the girl. Squeezing past the man again, he looked up. What he saw in the guy’s eyes frightened him.
Tanner hurried back to the table and interrupted his mother’s story. “Dad.”
Mom frowned. “Tanner, you know not to—”
“There’s a girl in trouble in the restroom,” he hissed. “I watched her and maybe a guy who’s her dad come in. He keeps his hand on her neck. He guided her into the diner and then to the restroom. He didn’t even go himself. He’s just waiting for her.”
“Well, some fathers are a little overprotective,” Dad said, frowning slightly.
“No,” he insisted. “I saw her hand. She held it out to me when she passed our booth.” He swallowed. “Dad, it said HELP.”
Immediately, his father’s demeanor changed. “You saw that word?”
“Yes,” he said, nodding vigorously. “Like she’d carved it there. She needs us, Dad.”
His father’s eyes glanced to the back and then returned to Tanner. “They’re coming,” he said quietly, taking a bite of pie.
As the two moved passed their table, Tanner noticed the girl kept her hands by her side this time. The hand with her cry for help was on the far side and couldn’t be easily seen anyway. She was smart not to try again a second time.
Once the pair returned to their table, Dad said, “Stay right here. I’ll be back. Don’t look at them. He might spook.”
Dad scooted from the booth and called to Annie, “Left my wallet in the car. Be right back.”
Keeping his eyes on Mom, Tanner asked, “Is Dad calling for back-up?”
Mom had her back to the man and girl. She nodded. “He will. He’ll also run the plates. See if the vehicle is stolen and who it’s registered to.” She reached out a hand and he gave her his. “That was very brave of you, Tanner. And very observant. Let’s just hope this girl isn’t in trouble. That it’s all a misunderstanding.”
“She is, Mom,” he said earnestly. “I can tell. She doesn’t look up. She’s not talking. Girls are always talking, all the time.”
He remembered the look in her green eyes in that brief moment when their gazes had connected. Something told him he would always remember those eyes.
Dad reentered the diner and slid into the booth. “Let’s get the two of you out of here now,” he said quietly. “Helen, take Tanner. Go to the car and lock the doors.”
