Page 40 of Traces of Kara

“Not anymore, she’s not.” He took Kara by the arms and pulled her away.

Kara twisted and turned, but his grip was too strong. Her futile efforts went unnoticed. “What’s going on?” she cried. “Please? Mom? What’s he talking about?” She stared at her mother.

Mimi’s body trembled, frail and beaten, her face smattered with dried blood.

“Mom, please.” Kara covered her face with her hands. “Just tell me what’s going on.” She clawed at Roland’s fingers, trying to pry his vice grip from her shoulders. “Please, she’s my mother,” Kara pleaded. “Please, let me go to her.”

Roland held tight. “Marissa,” he said, turning his head and staring at Mimi.

“Please?” Kara whispered. “Please, Roland,” she pleaded through her tears.

Roland stroked her hair, then looked around the small room. The broken Barbie doll lay on the ground, one leg cocked backward, its smiling, cracked face staring into the darkness. He fingered the bottle of alcohol in his pocket.

Kara’s legs gave out and she crumbled to the floor. “I can’t do this,” she cried.

Mimi ran toward her. Roland quickly dropped to the floor next to Kara, snapping his arm up toward Mimi, a steadfast barrier between them.

A thunderous groan filled the small room. Kara covered her ears.

“What’s that?” Mimi shouted above the noise.

The ground beneath them shook, then stilled. The light faded to black. A second later, another rumble crawled along the floor as the backup generators came to life. The light bulb flickered, then dulled, casting a muted glow across the room.

“The plant shut down. The generators kicked in,” Kara answered mechanically. Then she turned her attention to Roland. “Roland, please,” she pleaded. “I’ll be Marissa…Please, I’ll do anything…just get me help. Don’t let me die.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

“You haven’t seen her?” Detective Grant stood in Daryl Stahl’s small living room, doing his best to ignore Kelly Parnell, who sat on the couch in a sweatshirt and miniskirt, a deer-in-the-headlights look in her eyes and a permanent grin plastered across her face.

Daryl shook his head. “What’s all the fuss about? So I have a girlfriend? So what?”

Detective Grant sighed, then shook his head. “We’re just trying to figure out where Kara is. She’s missing.”

“Kara’s not missing. She just doesn’t want to be found. We finally came out of the closet.” He smiled at Kelly, who batted her eyes and shrugged. “She’s just embarrassed.”

“I hope you’re right, Daryl. Do you know where she might have disappeared to?” He turned his back to Kelly. “Any secret haunts?”

“Nah, Kara’s pretty much a creature of habit. The canal, maybe? Work, school? She had a fling with Dean. Have you checked with him?”

“How’d you know about that?” Kelly asked with a tinge of jealousy.

Daryl ignored her.

Kelly crossed her arms and looked away.

“We’re looking for him.” He walked toward the front door, Daryl on his heels. “You hear from her, you call me,” he said in a serious tone.

Detective Grant drove down South Commerce Street, heading for the power plant. He might as well talk to Jackson and see if there was anything fishy going on with Kara during her shifts. He stopped at the light at West Salisbury Street, and noticed a Chambersburg, PA police car stopped in the road and Mr. Cordon standing with his hand on the door.

Chambersburg. “What the hell do they want?” he mumbled. As he neared the car, he thought, Oh, shit. Greer. His radio broke through his worry.

“Grant.”

“Sir, the truck belongs to a Roland Marcus Greer.”

Grant pulled his car next to the Chambersburg Police car. “Help you with something, Officer?” he said through the open window. “Afternoon, Mr. Cordon.”

Mr. Cordon turned toward him, his jaw working in a scissor motion.