“Was he living here?” She probably won’t be able to answer that question, but Dylan can.
She shrugs, and that’s all I get from her.
It doesn’t matter if he lived with her. He’s suspect number two, which will help Tayler out immensely. Now we just need to find out what Dylan was up to.
Another good question: How long has he known Kara Becker, andifhe killed her, what would be his motive?
Chapter Six
Daisy
The second I saw that guy going into Kara’s apartment, I knew it was my chance to see Officer Golden again. The thought of it made me both nervous and excited. And scared. I mean, not a soul has stepped foot in my place for almost two years.
Except my dad.
But he doesn’t count.
For anything.
Since he’s paying my rent, he thinks he can dictate who I can have in my apartment, which is nobody, because he wants to keep what I’m doing here a dirty little secret. He’s also got a key to the place, so I can’t very well sayhecan’t stop by—especially when he’s here to pick up his “research.” And by research, I mean his articles, books, and anything else he’s published in the last six years. Yes, I’ve been doing all of his writing since I graduated high school.
It all started rather harmlessly. One night, back when I had a relationship with him, Dad and I were eating dinner, and we began talking about Ernest Hemingway. Since he’s one of my favorite authors, I’d done quite a bit of reading on him. More than my dad had, apparently, because we spent the entire meal arguing the secret meaning behindThe Old Man and the Sea, my favorite story of Hemingway’s. My dad got angry with me and told me to “prove it.” So I did. I wrote a paper on Hemingway’s story along with my theories on the symbolism he used throughout and backed it up with thorough research.
After I handed him the paper, he read it and smiled. “Send me your file, would you?” By that, he meant he wanted my digital document file. I didn’t think anything of it. I assumed he was going to edit what I wrote. Little did I know he changed my name at the top of the paper to his and submitted it to a prestigious journal on American literature. He won an award for that article. Not only that, it helped him finally get tenure, something he’d been working toward for years. Now he’s seen as a “leading authority on Hemingway”. I want to scream whenever I see that printed because DadhatesHemingway. F. Scott Fitzgerald is his favorite. My name, the one he insisted upon, should have been your first clue. And it makes my skin crawl because Daisy Buchanan, fromThe Great Gatsby, was a bitch.
So that’s how it started. In exchange for my apartment and a little spending money, I write for him. Even while I was getting my own degree, I kept writing for him. My most recent project, the one I’m currently writing, is an entire book about Hemingway. It’s also my chance to get away from here, from my dad. This will be my last project for Dr. Dorian Buchanan. After this, he’s on his own, and I’ll be set free. Because I’ve got plans of my own, and they don’t include my father.
You see, I’ve got a few secrets of my own.
* * *
After Officer Golden—Gage—leavesmy apartment, I contemplate going to bed, but since I’m not tired, I opt to start going through the containers that hold all of the newspapers and magazines that have been stacked around my place ever since my mom left. They really are hers; she asked me to keep them for her until she got back from her “little trip.” She’s been gone five years, ever since the day she found out dad was using my writing for his own advancement. I guess that was the last straw for her. I’m not surprised. They hadn’t been getting along—not for a while.
I don’t blame her, really. Dad’s career always came before anything else. I suspect she was tired of being second or even third fiddle. We used to be a family. Before my dad became obsessed with his career, the three of us used to do things together. We used to laugh. But something happened to Dad along the way that changed him. Maybe it was his own need to outdo his father, the late great Dr. Rochester Buchanan. Who knows?
Interestingly enough, they aren’t actually divorced. Dad’s tried to get her to sign papers, but she’s never in a place long enough to have anything delivered.
Long story short, that’s why I have her stuff. She asked me to hold on to all of it for her, and that’s what I’ve done for years, but I’m tired of it. Ofallof it. I’m tired of being a tool they both use. For Dad, I do his work, and for Mom, I keep her crap.
Well, no more.
I look over at the tall stack of magazines I’ve pulled from two plastic bins. I step closer, trying to decide where to start. I know some of these are worth money. Take the very firstVoguemagazine published in 1892. It’s one of my mom’s most prized possessions. I won’t toss that, but most of the other stuff, yes, definitely.
I sigh looking at the stacks. I wish she were here to do this. Not only that, more than anything, I miss her. I want her back, and I guess I thought holding on to all her things would help draw her back. But living like a hoarder isn’t good for anyone. God, how many times has my dad threatened to come in here while I was gone to toss her stuff away? Maybe I should have let him do it. At least she’d be angry withhiminstead of me. It’d put the onus of guilt on the man who caused this mess in the first place. That isifshe ever comes back. I thought it was my duty—no, myresponsibilityto hold on to her things. If she didn’t want to seeme, she’d at least want her preciousVoguemagazine. But, like the clothing hanging on the rack next to my kitchen and the crates with her miscellaneous housewares, it’s all got to go.
I’ve lived like a hermit long enough. While I leave my apartment to get groceries and things of that nature, I mostly stick around home to make sure… well, I never know when my dad’s going to let himself into my place, so I like to be here, just in case.
Now I’ve got something else to keep me tethered to my apartment. I mean, what if something happens at Kara’s place? If I’m away, who’ll call Gage?
A small smile crawls across my face because Gage Golden is... well, I think he may be perfect.
Chapter Seven
Gage
Imake my way back to the station after talking with Daisy. I want to observe Dylan Forrester’s questioning.
The first person I see upon entering is my captain. “Good job tonight. You caught the kid trying to break into Kara’s place. Name’s Dylan—”
