Page 7 of Traces of Kara

“She’s going through a separation.” Same conversation, different day. Mimi turned away from him, focusing on a lone star in the dark sky.

He touched her shoulder and sighed. “Okay, okay. I just wanna get my house back, that’s all.” Ted looked down, then brought his eyes back up and held Mimi’s gaze. “Is it such a bad thing to want some alone time with you, a little more of your attention? I’ve done pretty well as a stepdad, haven’t I? But Mimi, it’s you I want to spend my time with.”

Mimi lowered her face in her hands, wishing she could cry. Tears wouldn’t come. She was numb. She and Ted had been together for thirteen years. She had never understood the tension between Kara and Ted, and she’d accepted that she never would. That didn’t stop her from wishing she could find a way to fix whatever was broken between them. Mimi had met Ted a few months after returning to Williamsport, and she’d fallen in love with his certitude about life, and the way he’d stepped in as a provider, and eventually, a husband. As the years progressed, tension mounted between Ted and Kara. At first Mimi had thought he was just trying to pull her out of her shell. “She isn’t like normal kids,” he’d said, stating she was disengaged, an outsider, untrusting. He progressed from urging her to get involved with kids at school to practically pushing her into marrying Daryl.

Mimi was stuck between anger at her husband for pushing Kara so hard—though she agreed about wanting Kara to marry Daryl—and protection of her daughter. Though if she were being honest with herself, she’d have to admit she had failed in protecting Kara for most of her life—not from the egregious things in life, but from the emotional pain that scarred invisibly.

“You comin’ to bed?” he asked, rubbing her shoulder.

Mimi let out a breath. “In a sec.”

Mimi listened as Ted left the room, then waited for the click of the bathroom door closing. She picked up her cell phone and texted Kara. “Sorry about earlier. Meet for lunch?”

Mimi checked her cell phone for the fifth time since waking up at six thirty. Still no message. She had worried the day would come when Kara would no longer be forgiving, that she had tainted their relationship too deeply with the lies she’d told to protect her. At what point did a daughter turn away from her mother? When she thought her mother had allowed her child’s father to leave them without leaving them any money, forcing Mimi to go back to work and Kara to essentially raise herself? When her mother remarried and didn’t stand up for her own flesh and blood? Mimi lowered herself into a kitchen chair. Or maybe, she thought, it was when her mother made her feel low for leaving her husband. Daryl wasn’t Al. Mimi’s body began to tremble. Kara’s father, Al, had left them when Kara was just six, and Kara hadn’t trusted anyone since the day she’d come home from school to find her mother, puffy eyed and exhausted, holding the letter her father had left on the kitchen table. Mimi wrapped her arms around her stomach. Maybe she’d already lost Kara. An unfamiliar quaking began in her chest: rising, quiet cries as tears tumbled down her cheeks.

Chapter Seven

Kara’s head throbbed. She struggled to break free of the ropes that bound her arms and legs. She screamed until her throat ached and her cheeks felt as if they had been scraped with knives. It was no use. The duct tape swallowed the sounds of her voice. She squirmed, twisting her head from side to side, trying to get her bearings. Encased in darkness, her heart raced and panic swelled in her throat. Breathe. Breathe.

Drag. Stop. Drag. Stop. Something was moving, or being pushed toward her from behind.

Her body convulsed as she fought to break free. Her hands were duct taped to a metal pole. Where the hell was she? The familiar smell of coal surrounded her. Her mouth tasted like metal, blood. Something behind her moved. She froze. Her eyes opened so wide, they stung. She twisted her head from side to side. It was no use. She couldn’t see a damn thing.

Drag, stop. Drag, stop. Kara held her breath with every drag. She dolphin kicked her bound legs, trying to wrench her hands free, breathing fast and hard through her nostrils. Squeezing her eyes shut, she grasped at her fractured memory. What time was it? How long had she been out? The constant and familiar hum of the power plant vibrated beneath her as she realized where she was and tried to pull the face of her captor from the recesses of her aching head.

Drag, stop. Drag, stop. The heavy sound of metal on concrete filled the room. Her captor stood behind her. She could hear him breathing. Her muffled mews seeped through the tape.

He came around her right side, the hat no longer on his head, his disfigured face shadowed by the darkness.

“I’m sorry, Marissa. I don’t mean to hurt you.” His words were filled with remorse. He crouched beside her, his face coming clearly into view. He held a black rope in his heavy palms and twisted it with his thick, callused fingers.

Kara leaned away from him, straining under the pinching tape. Her face contorted with fear. She tried to scream for help but her pleas were muffled beneath the tape. Sweat beaded her forehead.

“Why’d you have to fight me?” He pushed to his feet, pacing nervously before her.

Kara’s heart pounded. She had to get out of there. She didn’t recognize the room. She could barely see it in the dark. Damn it. There were so many dark corners of the plant, areas where no one ever went. This maniac could kill her and she’d never be found. The thought strangled her. Her eyes bugged as she fought against her restraints, squealed for freedom, kicked in the man’s direction.

He lumbered toward her. “Stop it,” he commanded in a stern, even voice.

She’d be damned if she’d be killed without a fight. She kicked harder, her eyes shooting daggers.

The man shook his head, pacing faster, wrapping the rope around his wrists. He moved behind Kara.

She yelped, whipping her head from side to side. No! Please God, no! Her mind raced for a way out. She was trapped.

He moved to her left, staring down at her with a strange look in his eyes, something between anger and worry.

Kara stared at the rope as he ran it over and under his fingers. She could barely breathe. She kicked her legs toward him, catching the end of his boot.

“I got no choice now, Marissa.” His voice remained calm.

Kara’s bladder felt like a balloon stretched too thin. Her shoulders ached and her face hurt from the tape that pinched and pulled. Her captor sat slumped against the wall, sleeping, she assumed, by the rise and fall of his back. He’d made all sorts of noise in the room behind her and finally sat down, mumbling about the end. That seemed liked hours ago. How long had it been? She guessed they were in the basement of the old plant and told herself to remain calm, to figure out a plan.

How’d this guy get past the security checks? Was this Paul’s replacement? Had Jackson hired a psycho?

It had to be almost morning. Paige and Joe would be looking for her. She tried to convince herself they would be. Heaviness settled in her gut. She pictured them, laughing and kissing as they punched out and rolled their eyes at Kara’s bag and jacket, thinking she was doing her homework in one of the many quiet rooms. They wouldn’t look for her, not unless there was a clogged chute alarm or some emergency that required an evacuation, and she hadn’t heard the alarms the whole time she’d been down there. Would she even hear the alarms? Oh God. A sinking feeling settled in her gut. A pained whimper slipped through her lips. She sucked in air through her nose. Her eyes shot toward her captor. Why had she made a noise? Oh, no. No, no, no!

The man sat up.