Dirty Secrets

Part 78

In the midst of a slow-motion panic attack, Lyla charged up the stairs and hurried to the window in her father's room, steadying herself against the window frame. She watched Darcy drive away and was relieved that her dad hadn't come home yet.

The queasy feeling in her stomach churned into a boil. She bolted across the hallway into the bathroom, threw open the toilet lid, and wretched, chunks of yellow, green, and purple Froot-Loops making a return appearance. When she felt reasonably certain that her belly was empty, she flushed the toilet, washed her hands and mouth in the sink, and hastily brushed her teeth. She eyed her reflection in the mirror. The trembling young woman with somber eyes staring back at her was about to embark on a harrowing and perilous mission from which she might not return.

Lyla rinsed her mouth, jogged into her room, threw off her pajamas, then got dressed. She dragged the drone out from its hiding place beneath her bed and debated.

We got enough crap to carry.

She shoved the drone back under the bed, concealed it behind a few pairs of shoes,  then dialed Jack.

His phone rang four times unanswered. She called again. Once more, he ignored her call. She redialed. On the third ring, he finally picked up.

"What? What is it?" he asked.

"We gotta go," she answered, lacing up her shoes.

"Wait. What happened?"

"We need to go. Right now."

His voice grew softer. He was speaking to someone in the room. It sounded like Carissa.

"Jack. Jack, are you coming?" Lyla raised her voice.

"Why can't we go tomorrow?"

"It's got to be now. Right now."

"I kinda can't right now."

"Can't or won't?" she asked.

He didn't respond.

"Fine." She ended the call, steaming. While slipping her arms into the sleeves of her denim jacket, she heard her dad coming through the front door. She stuffed the Mace into her pocket.

"What's wrong with Darcy?" he called as he passed through the entryway. "You guys have a fight or something?" She heard him drop the grocery bags onto the kitchen counter.

Lyla descended the stairs. "Where'd you see her?"

"She drove right past me. Had the weirdest look on her face."

Lyla fumbled. "I think it might have something to do with Richie. Did you get all the groceries out of the car?"

"Still a few bags out there," he replied. He followed her out, across the porch, and down to the driveway.

She lifted a couple of grocery bags from the trunk.

"You okay?" he asked. "You look kinda pale." He grabbed the remaining groceries and slammed the trunk closed.

"Just worried about Darcy, I guess," she said.

They lugged the groceries into the kitchen and set the bags on the table.

"I know it's kinda early, but you want some lunch?" he asked, transporting bagged deli items to the refrigerator. "I got some turkey and ham."

"Not really hungry," she said. "Feels kinda stuffy in here. I need some air." 

"You coming down with something?"

"Don't think so."

En route through the entryway, she noticed her dad's car keys on the sideboard. How was she going to ask him for the car? What credible excuse could she invent? He'd pose lots of questions that she wouldn't be able to answer, not with her thoughts swimming and her focus scattered. Better to just take the car and apologize later. If there was a later.

She slipped out the front door and into the backyard to the shed. She grabbed two shovels and remembered that Jack recommended that they take the pick so she added it to the collection.

With the tools in her arms, she crept to the driveway and quietly placed them beside her dad's car. Through the window, she watched him putting dry goods on the pantry shelves. She raced back to the shed and seized one of the bags of rock salt. My God, it was heavy. She couldn't lift it so she dragged the bag out of the storage locker and across the lawn. She got about halfway through the yard when she ran out of energy. With her chest heaving, she abandoned the bag, jogged back to the shed to retrieve the gasoline, then set the can beside the long-handled tools.

She dashed up onto the porch thinking that to "borrow" her dad's car, she'd need to distract him. When she tiptoed into the house, she heard footsteps on the second floor, then the sounds of her dad entering the bathroom. She pocketed his car keys then went into the kitchen where a drinking glass in the sink gave her an idea.

She filled it with water then bounded down the basement stairs. She crossed the room and spilled the water under the water heater. She opened the basement window and ascended the stairs just as she heard the toilet flushing. When Lyla returned the glass to the sink, she heard Ryan coming down from the second floor. She turned to her father when he entered the room.

"Too much coffee." he grinned. Then, reacting to her unsettled expression he asked, "Something wrong?"

"I thought I smelled gas," she said. "I went downstairs and there's water under the water heater."

"Aw, come on." He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Let me take a look."

As he made his way to the basement door, Lyla intercepted him. She surprised Ryan by wrapping her arms around him and whispering, "I love you, Dad."

"I love you, too," he said, taken aback.

She gripped him tightly and then kissed his cheek.

"Everything okay?" He eyed her.

She nodded.

"Sure?"

"Just felt like I needed to do that."

"I'm glad you did." He kissed the top of her head. "Okay. Guess I better take a look at that water heater," he said then started down the basement stairs.

Through the kitchen window, she was pleasantly surprised to see Jack's car come to an abrupt stop at the end of her driveway. As she exited the front door he called from his car, "So what's all the--"

She shushed him.

Jack got out of his car and approached. He saw the tools and the gasoline can grouped in the driveway.

"I can't carry the salt," she said in a breathy whisper.

"I'll get it," he whispered back.

She noticed the neighbor's blinds moving and responded with an aggravated sigh. She asked Jack, "We're taking your car, right?" 

"So you're welcome," he said collecting the tools. "We need to leave our phones here. So they can't track us," he said. "They're not gonna do us any good out there anyway."

"I'll hide them in the shed," she replied. She took his phone and darted to the shed, concealing her phone along with his behind a bag of mulch.

Before she got into Jack's car, she slipped into the entryway and returned her dad's car keys. She hoped that this wouldn't be the last time that she'd ever set foot in her home.