by Willow Rose
Chapter 28
I had prepared myself for something bad, but what I saw still pulled all the air out of me, like a punch to my stomach.
I walked inside first, Cooper coming up right behind me. The townhouse was completely empty. No furniture, only an old refrigerator was humming in the corner of the kitchen.
We found the senator's son in the living room in front of the fireplace, the diamond-shaped window behind him just like we had seen in the video. He was still tied to a chair, but unlike in the video, he was no longer fighting or crying. He was sitting completely still with his head slumped to the side. His eyes were still open, staring eerily at us like they were asking us why we were so late, why we were too late.
In his mouth, someone had stuffed hundred-dollar bills. A handful of them had fallen to his lap and the wooden floors beneath him.
"My God," Cooper said and clasped his mouth. He turned away like he couldn't bear to look at it.
I exhaled, fighting to keep calm. The boy was only a few years older than my Olivia. Probably even went to the same school, like all the kids in this town. This was unbearable.
"I called it in," Matt said, returning. His color had come back, but he still looked sick. "Who does this? What kind of a sick pervert kidnaps a kid and kills him, stuffing money down his throat like that?"
I stared at the boy, then shook my head, realizing this wasn't my case and I had a son in my car. Suddenly, I just wanted to get back to be with my children.
"I'll guess I have to go notify the parents," Matt said.
"I should go," I said. "I’m not supposed to be here, and you guys have work to do."
"It was nice to see you again, Eva Rae," Cooper said and gave me a warm hug, holding onto me for a few seconds too long.
"Maybe I'll see you around?"
"We'll have to see about that," I said, and I turned around and walked away. Matt stared at me, then walked out in front of me. His steps were suddenly big and angry. He scoffed loudly.
"What?" I asked, baffled.
He shook his head. "Nothing."
I stopped. "What's going on here? Matt?"
He stopped too, then gave me a look.
"You don't think it's a little early? Not to mention inappropriate, given the circumstances?"
I couldn't believe my ears. "Excuse me?"
"Your divorce isn't even finalized yet, is it?" he asked as we came outside in the sunlight. I could hear the loud music blasting from inside my car. Alex was still at it. I could see his ax swinging through the air. That kid never ran out of energy. Chad used to say he was like that Energizer Bunny. I thought he was exaggerating back then, but now I understood what he meant.
"You thought I was flirting? I can't believe you," I said and grabbed the door handle.
"What?" he asked.
"Jealous much, are we?"
He gave me a look, then shook his head. "Don't flatter yourself. You've gotten really snooty, do you know that? You come here, big and mighty, and think you can tell us how to do everything. Well, we were doing just fine till you got here."
"Wow," I said and opened the door. "I guess I won't flatter myself and think you actually want me here. If you don't want me to help you out on this case, I don't have to. I'll walk away right now."
"Yeah…I think we've got it from here."
"All right," I said and got in. "Good to know."
Chapter 29
I couldn't believe him. I drove home, fuming. I felt so angry that I started unpacking right away and, by dinnertime, I had gone through two more boxes. My mom had called and invited us over for dinner, so I put the lasagna back in the fridge, got ready, and walked over there with the kids since they only lived two blocks down. My mom opened the door.
"I guess late is better than never, right?" she said, then looked at me. "What's happened to your hair? Did you do something to it?"
I felt it, then shook my head. "I stopped washing it. I’m going to try for dreadlocks. I think I might look good with them, don't you? Kind of get that Bob Marley thing going that I’ve wanted for years."
My mom stared at me, eyes wide. Then, realizing I was kidding, she gave me one of her annoyed smiles.
"Get in."
We walked into the living room. My parents lived in a beautiful house on the canal. It was huge, way too big for two people to live in alone, but they loved it there. It was my childhood home, but going there didn't exactly bring back fond memories. I had always hated living in a house where I had to be careful where I sat because the furniture was so expensive. I often joked that the furniture was more important to my mother than me. Except it wasn't a joke. It was often the truth. It got more of her attention than I ever did.
Christine went to sit on a couch, and my mom saw her, then rushed to grab a towel and placed it where she was going to sit.
"There you go," she said. "Jeans can leave a mark."
Christine gave me a look for help, and I nodded to tell her to simply indulge her grandmother. Olivia sat next to her, making sure to sit close enough so she was on the towel as well. I wasn't so worried about the girls as much as I was Alex. He had already finished two rounds of the living room, running with his toy ambulance, making loud noises. I gasped every time he passed the big human-sized sculptured vase that I knew my mom had shipped from Vietnam.
"Squirt!"
My dad came in, gave me a kiss on the cheek, then greeted the girls before catching Alex as he ran past him. He grabbed him around the waist and lifted him into the air, then spun him around till they both laughed.
"Jon!"
My mom came out of the kitchen, holding a tray with some sort of food on it.
My dad put Alex down. "Sorry, darling."
My mom gave him another look, then clapped her hands. "Appetizers, everyone. I made zucchini chips. Let's take them outside, shall we, so we can avoid greasy fingers on the furniture."
I exhaled, relieved. Outside, Alex could roam wild without breaking anything. Relieved, I sat down on the patio furniture while Alex took to the lawn and started somersaulting across the grass.
"So…" my dad said and sat next to me. He never got to say more before my mom came over too, interrupting us.
"Did you hear what happened to that senator's son? It was all over the news," she said, speaking with a low voice so the kids wouldn't hear. Olivia and Christine put on their swimsuits and went in the pool. I couldn't blame them. I wished I had done the same. It was too hot to just sit there.
"Of course, she did," my dad said. "She was there. I was just about to ask."
I turned to face him. "How did you know I was there?"
My dad smiled. "I know everything, remember? I see everything around here."
"Ah, don't listen to him, Eva Rae," my mom said. "Crystal called earlier and told us. I wasn't home, so he picked up."
Crystal was Matt's mother. Of course, Matt had told her I was there. I was beginning to remember why I was in such a rush to get out of this place twenty years ago. It was suffocating how everyone always knew everything you did.
"So, what do you think?" my dad asked.
"About the senator's son?" I shrugged. "I don't know, to be honest. It’s all very strange. There was a video leading us to him. It was like the killer wanted us to find him. Like he had put the boy out on display. There was no ransom, no demands of any kind."
"It's horrifying," my mom said. "You hardly dare to go out anymore. Nowhere is safe."
"Do you think it was political?" my dad asked.
"That's what they said on TV," my mom added. "That he was targeted because of his father's job. Something about a bill he recently signed or maybe his stance on gun control. I don't know. It was all a little out there if you ask me."
"Yes and no," I said.
"What kind of an answer is that?" my mom said.
I bit my lip while watching Alex rolling on the grass. "I don't know yet. But I do think that choosing a senator's son has to have some sort of significance. I’m j
ust not sure it’s political. I think he might have chosen the senator's son because it would wake the interest of the media."
"You think the cases are connected, don't you?" my dad asked. "The surfer girl and the senator's son?"
I shrugged. "It's not really up to me to conclude anything. I stopped, remember? I am actually trying to stay away from this."
My dad nodded pensively. "You should be taking care of yourself and your children right now. Let someone else deal with this. Besides, you have that book to write. How's that coming along?"
I smiled, feeling guilty. "Eh. Not so much right now."
"Don't blow this one, Eva Rae," my mother said. "They might get angry with you at that publishing house and then where does that leave you? You have no additional income. You're a single mom now; your husband left you…you can't blow this too."
I glanced at my mom, then forced a smile. "Geez. Thanks for reminding me, Mom. I had completely forgotten how awful my life was."
My mom grimaced, then stood to her feet. "Oh, my, the food."
My mother rushed off, clacking along on her high heels. My dad leaned over and spoke with a low voice.
"She made curried quinoa with garbanzos and peppers. It's vegan, plant-based, and gluten-free. Does anyone even know what gluten is and why we're all suddenly allergic to it?"
I chuckled, then placed my arm around my dad's shoulder. "She means well. She wants you to stay healthy and stay with us for many years."
"I'm sixty-two. I’m not dying. Heck, I’m not even retired yet. I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon. But I might if I don't soon get a big fat juicy steak."
I chuckled. You can always come eat from our fridge, Dad. Anytime you want a real meal, you just come over."
"It's good to have a backup plan," he said, whispering, while my mom yelled from inside the house that dinner was served.
After picking at my mom's food, pretending to eat, the kids and I went back home and played a card game, while eating Jenna's lasagna. We stayed up till ten o'clock, completely forgetting it was a school night. I wanted it to last forever. I couldn't stop thinking about those poor parents, the senator and his wife, who now sat alone in their big beach house without their child.
Chapter 30
The faceless man is pulling my arm. It hurts, and I scream, but he grabs me around the mouth and tells me to shut up. His fingers taste like cigarettes. I am scared. I can hear my heart pounding. I can see my mom walking, pushing her cart, but she's too far away. I want to scream again, but I can't. I want to alert her to what is happening, but she's busy taking things from shelves; she doesn’t notice; she doesn’t even look in my direction.
"What are you doing?"
The voice coming from behind the faceless man is Sydney's. She's holding a doll in each hand and is staring at us. The man turns to look at her, then pauses.
I want to scream at her to get away, to go get Mommy, but I can't. Instead, I bite down on the man's finger so hard, he yelps and lets go of me. Heart pounding in my chest, I push myself out of his grip.
I opened my eyes, still feeling my heart pound in my chest. My mouth was dry, and I looked at the clock, then realized I had overslept.
I sprang to my feet, then ran into Alex's room. He was already awake and sitting on the floor playing with his trucks, letting them crash into one another, making noises with his mouth.
"Alex. We're late. Get dressed."
He didn't react, but I felt certain he had heard me, so I moved on to the girls and woke them up one after the other. Olivia cursed and hurried to get dressed. Christine got sad and began to cry.
"I can't keep going in late, Mom. I’m gonna get in trouble for this."
"I'll write a note," I said. "Just get dressed and come down for breakfast. I'll drive you to school."
Christine sighed. "I hate this place. I miss Dad."
I paused and was about to say something, but then decided not to. It wasn't fair of me to demand that they never think about their father anymore. Fact was, he had abandoned us all, but the blow was especially hard on them since, for the past couple of years, he had been their entire world. He had been the only adult who took care of them. And just like that, he was gone. I cursed him inside my head, thinking I had no idea how to tell the kids that he didn't want them anymore, that now he wanted a new family. It was going to break their hearts. I wondered if I should have a talk with them about it, or simply let them find out on their own. Would they think I was just making it up if I told them? Because I was angry with him?
Probably. They adored their father, and in their eyes, he could do no wrong.
"I do too," I said. "But he's not here, and we have to try and do this on our own, honey."
"I don't want to," she said, crying. "I want him to come home."
I hugged her, not knowing what else to do. She cried for a few seconds, then stopped and wiped her eyes.
"Listen, honey. I know there are a lot of changes right now. But I promise it'll get better, okay? You have to trust me on this."
She didn't say anything but got out of bed and put on her clothes. My heart was still bleeding as I served them cereal, for once having enough milk for them all and for my coffee. But right now, I wasn't sure milk was enough. They needed their father, and I loathed him for what he was doing to them.
Chapter 31
After dropping the kids off, I drove to the beach, my Yeti containing my coffee still in my hand. I had so much on my mind; I couldn't really face my house and the loneliness inside of it when the kids weren't there.
I felt exhausted. I hadn't slept well in a long time. The kidnapping of two kids since I got back here brought back too many bad memories.
I went for a walk and greeted a nice old couple who were obviously snowbirds. You could always tell by their pale skin and by how much they enjoyed the sunlight hitting their faces.
As I reached the pier, I stopped and watched the surfers. There were a couple of them out there. The waves were big and very glassy. One of the surfers stood out in particular as he shredded the waves and even went for some air. After watching him for a few minutes, he came up, and I realized it was Coach Price.
"Nice air," I said as he exited the water.
He smiled widely. "Thanks."
I sipped my coffee.
"Could you teach my kids to surf that well?"
He shrugged. "I don't really do beginners."
I nodded. "Of course not."
"But there's a really good surf school downtown. You can sign them up for camp and then maybe if they make it big, you can sign me on as coach. I can take them all the way."
"I'll remember that if we ever get that far," I said, chuckling at the idea of my kids surfing. It was mostly Alex I was thinking about. He needed a sport that could take some of the energy out of him. I looked at the coach, who was standing next to me, watching the other surfers out there.
"It doesn't hurt your back, surfing like that?" I asked.
"My back?"
"Yeah, you injured your back, didn't you? That's why you stopped on the tour?"
He nodded. "Ah, yes. No, I can do some stuff, just not all of what I used to be able to, and some days are better than others. Anyway. I should get back. Nice to meet you."
I looked after him, then smiled. "You too."
I stayed in my spot for a few minutes longer, sipping my coffee and watching the surfers, thinking about Sophie and Nathaniel, the senator's son, wondering why the killer—if it was the same one—had chosen those two kids of all the children he could have chosen. They were both very much in the spotlight and killing them had to have some significance. If it was the same guy, he clearly had some sort of message he was trying to get out. These kills weren't random.
I shook my head, once again reminding myself this wasn't my case, then began to walk back, planning my day in my mind. I would unpack a few more boxes and then sit down at my laptop and get some writing done. I needed to get at least the first page on paper toda
y. I had written three books before this one and knew that the first page was mentally very important. Once you got that down, you had actually begun writing it, and then it would start to flow and come naturally. I just had to get past that first darn page. And for some reason, I kept postponing it.
Chapter 32
THEN
Three years later, the boy got a new mommy. She was beautiful, and the boy really liked her. He could tell his dad did too, and that made him even happier. She was very nice, even to his baby sister, and that made the boy happy. Having her at the house brought new joy, and it was like everything changed, especially his father, who no longer sat for hours in the living room, staring into thin air, saying nothing.
They told them to call her, Mommy. The boy found it a little strange at first since he already had a mommy. But his new mommy and his daddy had a new name for his old mommy. They called her The Thing. Every time they mentioned her, they would always say The Thing said this or The Thing did that. They also talked about her being on drugs and how it wasn't very good for the boy and his sister to visit her.
They didn't see each other often anymore. A couple of times a year. She kept getting the dates mixed up or missed the appointments, his dad and new mommy explained to him. It wasn't his fault, they kept saying, but it was hard for the boy not to feel a little guilty, to feel a little like his mommy didn't really want him.
"It's okay to be mad at her," his new mommy said one day when tucking him in. "She has not been treating you very well."
"The kids would sometimes come home with bruises," his dad said, coming in to say goodnight as well. "She hurt them when she was alone with them. And still, I can't say they can never see her again. I can't protect them. She's their mother."
"It's tough," the new mommy said.
And then they kissed.
Later that same night, the phone rang, and the boy hadn't fallen asleep yet, so he could hear his dad pick it up. He could tell it was his mommy or The Thing by the way his dad talked to her. He talked like he did when he was very angry with the boy or his baby sister. Like when they had gone to Michael's house down the street one afternoon without telling him. He talked to The Thing in the exact same way. Like he was mad.
