Haven Hill: Chapter 14

by the Author of The Widow in the Woods

Here’s where the story left off last time.

 “Mom, you have to tell me the plan,” insisted Ariel in a whisper. “I need to know!”

Kate gave her daughter a one-armed hug. “I know. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

She quickly outlined her plan, leaving out the riskiest part. Ariel nodded throughout the explanation. “But what about shoes? We’re going to run away in our slippers?”

“Just at first,” Kate assured her. “Trust me, I have it covered.”

Ariel looked concerned but determined. “I trust you, Mom. We’ve got this.”

“We do,” agreed Kate. “Now, try to take a little nap. We need to let Logan get deeper into his sleep.”

Ariel turned over on her side and pulled out the book she was reading. A couple of pages turned and then the book slid from its upright position. Ariel’s even breathing confirmed that she was asleep.

Kate herself had no intention of sleeping. Instead, she wanted to think about the past to steel herself for the mission ahead.

She was on her knees on the school steps, sobbing helplessly, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. Janice, from the office, looked panicked and was soon joined by the principal and another teacher. They helped Kate to her feet and led her into the office, past Janice’s desk and into the private room that served as the principal’s personal office.

“Do we need to call the police? Is this a kidnapping?” The principal was Mr. Shelley, a tall, thin man with sad eyes and a kindly face. He questioned her gently. “Go get her a bottle of water,” he told someone behind Kate in a soft voice.

The rest of it was a blur. Kate sipped the water and tried to get a grip on herself. She had already been a mess when she got there, burst blood vessels in her eyes from the attack, her unbrushed hair wild. Vivid bruises had begun to appear on her arms from where Logan had held her down. Now, her face was puffy, wet, and red from crying and she was certain she looked like a lunatic who’d just escaped an asylum.

When a female police officer arrived, Mr. Shelley left the room and quietly closed the door behind him. “I’m Detective Joan Harris,” she introduced herself. “You can call me Joan. I’m here to help you find your daughter.”

Instead of seating herself behind the desk, Joan had sat in the chair right beside Kate. She put her hand on Kate’s arm. “It looks like you’ve had a run-in with someone too. Can you tell me what happened?”

Kate shook her head frantically. “I don’t care about me! He has my daughter!” 

“I understand,” Joan had said. “But I need the whole story to find her.”

So, Kate told her everything, including the details about the attack. She was too worried about Ariel to feel embarrassed. A few times during the retelling, Joan made a quick phone call on her cell to provide information for the officers looking for Ariel and Logan.  Kate jumped when every phone in the office suddenly blared. 

It was an Amber Alert.

For her own, beloved Ariel.

In the future, Kate would never hear that sound without thinking of this terrible time and feeling kinship with the mother or father who was frantically searching for their own child.

Kate found herself rather unwillingly carted off to the hospital for a forensic exam. Joan had insisted. “When we find him, we want all the evidence we can get to put him away for as long as possible.  Stoically, Kate endured the humiliating exam, thinking only of Ariel. She couldn’t remember the nurse’s name who’d performed the intimate examination, collecting evidence from her body, but she did remember that the woman had a kind voice, dark skin, and a round, cherubic face. 

At the hospital Kate was given a couple of shots and a little cup full of medication. She refused sedation, wanted to be alert in case she could help in the search for her daughter. The nurse gently washed her face and tended to her bruises and abrasions. They wanted to admit her overnight for observation but she couldn’t possible lay in a hospital bed while Ariel was out there with the animal she had brought into their lives.

She left, against medical advice, called an Uber, and went straight to the police station.

There, she waited outside Joan’s office, refusing a ride home. She intended to wait until they had Ariel back, to be in the center of the action. She learned from Joan that Logan had previously had restraining orders from other women, that his behavior now was part of a trend. She felt sick, thinking of her own poor judgment, of the quiet red flags she’d ignored, of how she had invited a monster into their home.

Finally, in the wee hours after midnight, Joan came to sit beside her in the uncomfortable chairs. “Kate, you need to go home and get some rest. Let me drive you, because I have to go home and get some rest too. I need to be fresh to follow new leads tomorrow, but I swear to you, I will call you the second I know anything, no matter how small. Let’s go.”

Joan walked upstairs with Kate. Investigators had been there and collected evidence. Her home was turned upside down. Her bedding was gone. A film of fine, black powder covered the hard surfaces in her bedroom. Kate took some clean clothes from a drawer and shut the door to her room, hard. “Do you need a hotel?” Joan asked gently.

“No, I just need a shower. I’m going to lay down in Ariel’s room.” She saw the doubt on Joan’s face and gave her a wry smile. “I’m okay. Really. Get some rest.”

Once she had locked the door behind Joan, she got in the shower and turned the water as hot as she could stand. She took a loofah and scrubbed her skin until it hurt. She put on the soft, thick sweatpants and shirt she’d grabbed from her room and combed out her hair. 

She went into Ariel’s room and sat down on the edge of the bed. She took in the photographs, the posters, the artwork, and the huge stacks of books. She tucked herself into Ariel’s bed, which smelled like the soap her daughter liked, fresh and herby. There, the tears began to fall. She slept.

Kate shook herself out of her reverie about the longest three days of her life.

“Never again,” she said aloud in a fierce whisper. “Never again.”

Her determination and maternal rage at full strength, it was time to put her plan into action. She got up and went over to her toolbox to get to work on getting out of this room.

She grabbed a hammer and a roll of dull silver tape, allowing herself a small smile at the prepper’s ubiquitous duct tape. Then she turned to her supplier to arm herself. If somehow, Logan roused from his drugged state, she would be prepared to fight to the death.

Moonlight shone through the small, high basement window, and Ariel slumbered on.

About Daisy

She is the best-selling author of 5 traditionally published books, 12 self-published books, and runs a small digital publishing company with PDF guides, printables, and courses at SelfRelianceand Survival.com You can find her on Facebook, Pinterest, and X.

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