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TWENTY YEARS AGO

N AVY

I heard a commotion outside my bedroom door and sat up in confusion as I grabbed my phone to check the time. As usual, I’d been up way too late - or early, depending on how you looked at it - and had only been asleep for a few hours.

When I heard my mom’s raised voice, not in anger but in fear, I jumped out of bed and threw the door open.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I hurried down the hall toward my sister’s bedroom, where I’d heard the yelling.

“Your sister’s gone,” Dad said before he put his hand over his mouth and then ran it down his beard. “She took off sometime last night.”

“She was here when I went to bed. I ran into her in the kitchen when I went to get a drink.”

“What time was that?” Dad asked.

“Close to six?”

“Are you sure?”

Mom was rifling through the drawers in Corrie’s bureau.

“Mom, what are you looking for?” I asked as I watched her frantically pulling things out.

“A diary. A journal. Something that might have a clue about where she went.”

“Did y’all call the cops?” I asked.

“They’re on their way,” Dad assured me.

I saw Corrie’s computer in the corner and knew Mom wasn’t going to find a journal with Corrie’s secrets, but I could find them on her hard drive if I had a few minutes.

“I need this,” I said as I walked across the room and unplugged the tower.

“What are you gonna do with a . . .”

“People don’t write shit down anymore, Mom. They put it online or on their computer.”

Mom’s eyes lit up as she said, “Find her, Anthony!”

“I’ll do my best.”

◆◆◆

I looked at the slip of paper in my hand and double-checked the address that I’d found for the IP of whatever little shit had convinced my sister to run away from home.

I shoved it into my pocket and hopped out of Dad’s truck.

I looked around at the surrounding trailers and knew that no matter what went down, the neighbors wouldn’t be much help if I needed it.

On the flipside, they would probably mind their own business if something happened.

I knocked on the door and waited a few seconds before I knocked again. I could hear someone moving around inside, and then I was sure I heard a muffled scream before there was silence.

The door was suddenly yanked open, and a short guy with pasty skin and greasy hair glared at me before he asked, “What do you want?”

“Hi, I’m here from the First Church of the Last Chance here in Oceanside and was wondering if you’re interested in saving your soul from eternal damnation.”

“What? Get the fuck outta here!” the foul-smelling man said before he tried to slam the door, but I stuck my foot out to stop it and watched him try with all his might to shut it. Over his grunts and groans at the physical exertion he was clearly not used to, I heard a woman’s muffled scream.

I reared my arm back and took the guy out in one punch.

I shook off the pain in my hand as I watched him fall backwards.

I made my way into the trailer and slammed the door behind me as I looked around.

It was obvious that the guy cared as much about his surroundings as he did about his appearance.

But I wasn’t here for that. I was here for my sister.

“Corrie!” I yelled as I yanked the plug for a nearby box fan out of the outlet. I made quick work of cutting it from the fan and then used it to tightly bind the man’s wrists so I could find my sister. Again, I yelled, “Corrie! Where are you?”

Muffled sobs came from down the hallway to my right, and I rushed toward the sound.

I was terrified of what I might find behind the closed door at the end of the hall, but I reached out and opened it anyway.

There were blankets hanging over the windows to block out the sun, but a small lamp was on in the corner, giving me just enough light to see my sister huddled in between the nightstand and the wall.

“Corrie!” I yelled as I rushed around the bed and dropped down to my knees.

I yanked the tape away from her mouth and then started trying to untie her hands, but the zip ties around her wrists were too tight and had already started cutting into her skin.

“Oh, honey. Fuck! Are you okay? What did he do to you?”

“He lied to me,” my sister sobbed. “He said. . . I thought he . . . Then he hit me, and I woke up here. He was . . . He was going to . . .”

I pulled her to my chest and held her tightly as she sobbed and blubbered out broken sentences that painted a picture of the terror she’d experienced in the last few hours.

“Did he touch you, Corrie?”

“Not the way you’re thinking.” Corrie wailed again before she said, “He told me he was going to, though!”

“He’s not gonna do shit, baby girl,” I promised as I stood up with her in my arms. “I’ll make sure of that.”

◆◆◆

“Mr. Michaels, Mr. Bowles will pay for what he did through the punishment of the court system, but he will face challenges the rest of his life due to the injuries you inflicted upon him. Justified or not, it’s not your place to play judge and jury .

. . and, in this case, almost executioner.

For that reason, I believe that you should be incarcerated for at least a portion of the time the federal prosecutor has requested.

I’m going to amend the deal you made with the prosecutor's office to fit your specific situation.”

It was hard to focus on the judge’s voice with the sound of my mom sobbing somewhere behind me, but then I heard my dad’s supportive murmuring and knew she'd be okay. Just like I knew that Corrie would be okay, too, and that was all that mattered.

“I don’t believe probation is sufficient punishment for dragging another human being behind a moving vehicle, but I also believe that a twenty-year sentence is excessive.

Instead, I’m going to sentence you to seven years in the federal penitentiary and one year in an approved program to help reintegrate you into society.

In eight years you’ll have the opportunity to restart your life, which is more than I can say for your victim. ”

My heart was racing as I shook my head to clear it, wondering if I’d heard the judge correctly. Instead of losing twenty years of my life, I would only have to give up eight. I could do anything for a little while, and in relation to twenty years, eight wasn’t bad at all.

I turned and looked at my dad, who grimaced before he nodded, and when I met my mom’s eyes, I whispered, “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

“Mr. Michaels, you are hereby remanded to the federal penitentiary system for the duration of your sentence.”

◆◆◆

ELEVEN YEARS AGO

When I pulled into the parking lot of Three Sheets, I was surprised at how busy it was for being this early in the afternoon.

The last time I talked to Dad about the bar, he said business was good, but he’d obviously downplayed things.

That made sense because Dad was a master of understatement and wasn’t exactly verbose on a good day.

I parked in the line of motorcycles at the front of the building and sat there for a few minutes, just enjoying the view.

It had been way too long since I’d seen this place, but it looked just the same as it always had.

As a creature of habit, Dad didn’t like change, and that showed in the layers of paint on the exterior of the building.

The name on the side of the bar had to be at least half an inch thick with layers of paint by now, but the place was a local icon, so I guess his marketing had worked out in our favor after all.

The door opened, and a woman hurried outside before she darted around the side of the building.

After years of working in this bar with my family, her behavior pinged my radar.

I got off my bike so I could check on her.

She was probably just feeling sick and needed fresh air, but just in case there was something else going on, it would make me feel better to know that she was alright.

I peeked around the corner and found the young woman bent in half with her ass against the wall and her head between her knees. As I walked closer, I heard her mumbling to herself and thought my first inclination had been right - too much alcohol. Dad did have a heavy pour.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” I asked.

She abruptly stood upright and looked at me. Her face transformed from fear to happiness when she saw me, and before I knew what was happening, she launched herself into my arms.

“You’re home!” The feel of the woman in my arms was a welcome one, and even though I had no idea who she was, it just felt right to hold her against me. “I thought I wouldn’t get to see you before I left!”

Her raspy voice struck a chord somewhere, and I leaned back far enough to look down into her face before I asked, “Dalisay?”

“Are there so many women throwing themselves into your arms that you can’t remember all of their names?” Dali asked with a grin before she laid her head on my chest and hugged me tightly. “I’m so glad you’re home, Anthony.”

“What’s going on, Dali? Why are you out here by yourself?”

“There are just so many people inside who want to hug me and talk that I needed a minute to myself. I’m sort of freaking out, and I don’t like to do that with an audience.”

“Why are you freaking out?”

“I fly out tomorrow.”

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Rhode Island. I graduated last week, and I leave for Officer Candidate School tomorrow.”

“You’re kidding! Little Dali’s going into the Navy?”

“What’s this?” Dali asked as she ran her thumb over the patch on my chest. “Is that your road name?”

“It is. I made some friends while I was gone, and one of them started calling me Navy. It stuck.” I laughed before I said, “Holy shit, Dali. I can’t believe it’s you! You’ve grown up since the last time I saw you.”

“I was what? Thirteen? I’d like to think I’ve changed a bit since then.”