by Frank Martin
First order of business was figuring out just who Henry Hawkins really was. There was only so much information the Sheriff could get his hands on in a single night without a warrant, and as he already discovered, the evidence of Henry Hawkins’s existence in the public record was slim to begin with. Most name changes came with a public declaration in a local paper, but Henry never made one. At least, not one the Sheriff could find online.
Believing he hit a wall, Sheriff Thompson paused to make a cup of coffee. Most of the lights were out in the station. The entire building was dark except for a small lamp the Sheriff kept on his desk. While standing in the small kitchenette, waiting for his cup to brew, the Sheriff stood in the darkness and stared back at his desk, mesmerized by the glow of his computer screen.
Every so often, a bolt of lightning shot a flash through the room, illuminating the entire space for an instant. It was only after the third crack of thunder that Sheriff Thompson realized the storm was raging outside. He just now began registering the hard rain smacking against the roof, which drowned out the mechanical grinding of the coffee maker beside him.
That was when the epiphany hit him.
Sheriff Thompson didn’t know which part of the mundane ambience sparked his inspiration, but he darted back to his desk, ready to resume his work before the coffee even finished. Henry’s true identity might have been hidden away, but he wasn’t the only member of his family to change his name. His sister did, as well, and it was fairly easy for the Sheriff to discover a marriage license with Brock listed under her maiden name.
With this fresh revelation in mind, Sheriff Thompson’s investigation began anew and was a lot more successful than before. While Henry Hawkins was a mystery, Henry Brock had a full life with some trouble. Several restraining orders and a misdemeanor conviction for public lewdness, to be precise. It was telling information but not exactly damning. It wasn’t until the Sheriff’s background check found a rather curious address in the Philippines that Henry’s history took a darker turn.
It wasn’t the address alone that made the Sheriff suspicious. The first time they met, Henry mentioned that he had just returned to the States from a decade living in Asia. It was the date that gave Sheriff Thompson pause. It appeared as if Henry changed his name right before coming home. Why would he do that? Unless he had no choice.
For the second time in the night, Sheriff Thompson dug deep into his list of contacts, searching for anyone with ties to the State Department that could help him. There was a twelve hour difference between the United States and the Philippines. Everyone was just about getting to work and the Sheriff was utterly surprised how quickly his attempts bore fruit.
Henry Hawkins never decided to come back to the United States. He was deported as Henry Brock. The stipulation was part of a plea deal he made after being arrested for underage prostitution.
Suddenly, it all clicked.
Henry was apprehensive, almost nervous, when Sheriff Thompson wanted to speak with April alone, and the way April freaked when her uncle touched her said it all. The Sheriff didn’t exactly know what went on between them, but given Henry’s history, it wasn’t anything good.
Sheriff Thompson recalled soon after he met April that Henry asked him to check and make sure the girl was wearing a life vest on the paddleboard. It was a test. He was pushing April, practically daring her to say something to the Sheriff, which she didn’t for one reason or another. Henry bullied her, his own niece, and it made Sheriff Thompson sick to think that he was used as a pawn in a predator’s power play.
This was all speculation, of course. The Sheriff had no proof of any foul play. Just a gut feeling and vague, barely even circumstantial evidence. He needed April to come forward, and given her reluctance to do so thus far, she was going to need some convincing.
Sheriff Thompson wanted to head over there right now, bust in the door, and shake the truth from Henry’s scrawny neck. That wasn’t an option, though. It was already the middle of the night, and the storm gave no sign of letting up. Henry was paranoid enough as it was and there was no sense making it worse. If the Sheriff was going to do this then he had to do it the right way. He would head back over to the house in the morning and request April join him for questioning down at the station. This time he would bring back-up to intimidate Henry with formality. If her uncle felt threatened, which he should, maybe April would feel comfortable enough to open up.
The Sheriff had to let the girl know that Henry had no power over her. It was Sheriff Thompson’s duty to make sure she and her brother were protected. But bringing Henry to justice was more than just an obligation to the Sheriff. After facing so many losses, he just needed to finally put one in the win column.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sitting on the living room couch, April stared out the window, watching the storm from the guesthouse. Living in the city, where there were a million and one distractions, she never actually took the time to stop and truly appreciate the rain. It was mesmerizing the way the heavy drops of water cut through the air, slicing every inch of reality into strips before pelting the lake’s surface like bullets from a machine gun. A jagged bolt of lightning periodically illuminated the entire valley as it ripped across the sky. Thunder followed soon after. Sometimes it took a few seconds. Sometimes it came right away. And the cracking boom always lingered in April’s ears for a moment, a subtle backdrop to the constant patter of rain against the house.
In addition to mesmerizing, April found the nature of storms interesting and strangely fitting to her current situation. People tended not to think about them on beautiful days. When the sun was shining and blistering heat filled the air, the thought of torrential downpours were far from beach-goers’ minds. But those were the days that a storm gains strength. Warm, comfortable weather filled the dark clouds building on the horizon until the pressure became too much to bear and erupted in a frenzy of chaos and destruction.
April’s summer followed a similar path. When she was desperate to escape, April found solace and enjoyment in Oscar’s company. The strange critter was a welcome distraction from the problems she’d rather not face, but for too long April had ignored the problems that came with a rapidly growing carnivore running rampant in the area. April couldn’t say for certain if Oscar had anything to do with Brad and Randy’s disappearance or even Dutchman’s plane crash. But it all couldn’t have been a coincidence. She didn’t even want to think what would’ve happened to Sheriff Thompson if she didn’t say anything.
Brad, Randy, and Dutchman were assholes. They would get none of her tears. But they were also human beings that didn’t deserve to die. How far would Oscar go? Was April really that naive to think it would end there? How long could this go on?
She had spent too many beautiful days with Oscar. A storm was due. The only question was whether or not she would be caught off guard when it hit or prepare herself beforehand?
April had to make a decision. A choice that was hers and hers alone. Not driven by fear or guilt but by doing the right thing. Forget Henry and his bullshit. Screw Sheriff Thompson and his suspicions. April needed to come forward about Oscar for herself. To clear her conscience. All she needed now was to wait until morning when the storm faded and the cycle started all over again.
Coincidentally, April’s resolution came the same time her brother entered the living room. Mark approached her loud enough that he wasn’t trying to be sneaky, yet he stood just behind the couch for a moment, not saying a word. April thought it was kind of creepy until she looked at things through her brother’s eyes. She imagined what she would be thinking if she came across Mark, staring out the window on a rainy night. It made her sad just picturing it.
“Crazy outside, right?” Mark finally said, his somber tone confirming her suspicions.
“Yeah,” April muttered with her eyes still on the storm.
Their young conversation stalled as another deafening boom shook the house.
“Admit it,” Mark teased when the rumb
ling sky eventually settled. “You’re a little scared of the thunder.”
April didn’t respond. She kept her stare out the window, prompting her brother’s tone to shift dramatically.
“What’s going on with you?” he asked, his voice equally concerned and aggravated.
April finally swiveled around on the couch to face him, her expression drooping with apathy. “What are you talking about?”
Mark held out his hands to mock April by putting her on display. “I know at home you got that whole angsty, teenage bitch persona perfected, but whatever mood you’re in now is different. Hell, everything about this whole summer has been different.”
Grimacing, April shook her head and went back to gazing out the window. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mark stepped into his sister’s periphery. She didn’t look over to him, but April could definitely sense her little brother out the corner of her eye.
“In the beginning it was good, right?” he said, the concern now having completely taken over his voice. “We played games. We saw movies. Went out for ice cream.”
“Yeah,” April replied with an indifferent shrug. “That was fun.”
“What changed?”
April sighed and again shook her head. “You’re too young to understand.”
“Bullshit!” Mark bellowed, giving his sister a light shove to square her shoulders to him. “That’s something adults say when they’re too lazy to answer hard questions. And you, little miss 'I hate the world' are not an adult. You’re a kid. No matter how much you’d like to be, you’re still just a girl who likes texting with her friends, and obsessing over boys, and—”
“It’s not real, Mark!” April interrupted, shooting up out of her seat.
The unexpected outburst caught the boy by surprise, causing him to stumble back a step. He appeared startled by his sister’s proclamation, and April paused, allowing her sudden surge of adrenaline to calm with several long, drawn out breaths.
“None of this is real,” she lamented, her voice strained and tired.
Mark’s face sunk. His back drooped and his shoulders slouched, as if the world came crashing down around him.
“It feels real to me,” he confessed, his heavy eyes looking desperate yet hopeful.
April’s heart sank in her chest. She wanted so bad for the world to exist as her brother saw it, but happy endings had no place in real life. This summer was nothing more than a storybook distraction from the path fate chose for them. Mark was living a dream, and, as much as it pained her to have to do this, it was time for him to wake up.
Frowning regretfully, April shook her head and shrugged all at once. “Sure it feels real now. But when the summer ends and we have to go back home, this entire fantasy you’ve built up in your head fades away. All the friends you’ve made, the places you’ve been, even your special Uncle Henry. None of it matters. You think he’s family? You think he gives a shit about you? At the end of the day we don’t live in a cute lake house where we can wake up at the crack of dawn and go swimming like we’re in some perfect little painting. We live in a city with parents who don’t give a damn if we’re alive or dead and just dumped us off the first chance they got with a stranger we don’t even know.”
“Henry’s not a stranger,” Mark pleaded, sharp and defensive. “He’s family.”
The word shot through April’s heart. She expected to get angry, but her brother used the word so innocently, it caused her to chuckle instead. “Don’t you get it, Mark? We don’t have any family.”
His expression went blank, speechless and confused. April’s amusement then faded, replaced by the anger she knew was inevitable.
“We never did,” she added, turning to head up towards the stairs.
April hated leaving her brother shattered and heartbroken, but she saw no other way. It was going to happen eventually one way or another. Better she get it over with quick. Because although she didn’t know how, April had a feeling this summer was going to get worse before it got better.
CHAPTER TWENTYONE
Sheriff Thompson pulled into the Hawkins’ driveway around ten o’clock. He brought a partner with him, the only female deputy in his office. He figured having another woman around would help ease April’s anxiety, and they were going to have to in order to get the girl to cooperate.
The two of them approached the front door side by side, and a sudden flash of déjà vu rushed through Sheriff Thompson’s head as he reached out to knock. They only had to wait a moment before Henry opened the door with a smile and a pink tank top exposing his pale, skinny arms. He looked different than yesterday, though. His strained cheeks made the smile appear forced and unnatural, almost as if he were frustrated having to greet the same man on his doorstop.
“Back again, Sheriff?” Henry said, his voice chipper, like welcoming an old friend.
“Yup, Henry,” Sheriff Thompson replied with the exact opposite amount of enthusiasm. “Back again.”
Henry casually leaned on the doorframe, a desperate attempt to appear relaxed. “Two times in three days? If I didn’t know any better I would’ve thought you were stalking me.”
The Sheriff was surprised that he smiled at the comment. “I wouldn’t dare.”
Henry continued to grin for as long as his anxious energy would allow before he had to stand tall and cross his arms in the doorway. “Well, is there something new I can help you with?”
Fighting the urge to barrel his way into the house, Sheriff Thompson consciously softened his expression. “April said a couple things about those boys that concerned me. I just wanted to follow up with her.”
“And you need back-up for that?” Henry asked, glancing over the Sheriff’s shoulder to the female deputy behind him.
Sheriff Thompson grimaced and shrugged as if he didn’t have a choice in the matter. “After what happened yesterday on the lake, people didn’t exactly want to leave me alone.”
“I hear you on that one,” Henry agreed, nodding.
The conversation’s momentum slowly died down, and Henry remained in the same position, smiling and staring ahead. It almost appeared that he was hoping his guests would just turn and walk away on their own, which prompted the Sheriff to speak up. “So is April around?”
“Oh, yeah,” Henry blurted, like he just suddenly remembered why he had visitors. “Sure. I think she’s down by the dock.”
Sheriff Thompson and his partner each took a step towards the walkway but stopped when they noticed Henry hadn’t moved from the door.
“Mind coming with us?” the Sheriff asked, politely.
Henry furrowed his brow, surprised by the request. “Me? Why?”
Sheriff Thompson knew he needed Henry to trust him, so he took a step closer to him with an embarrassed smile and lowered his voice to confide in the man. “To be honest, April seemed a little nervous talking to me yesterday by herself. I think having another adult present might help.”
Henry’s brow remained scrunched as he processed the information. “Umm…Sure, I guess. Just let me change my shirt. Go around. I’ll meet you out back.”
“That’ll be great,” Sheriff Thompson said, fleshing out his smile.
Henry closed the door and the Sheriff gave his officer a confident nod. Things were going well so far. Henry did seem a bit nervous, but that was understandable. A plane crashed in his backyard and he had the local Sheriff at his house more than he probably wanted to. Which would’ve been annoying if he were innocent, but even more problematic if the man had something to hide.
As Sheriff Thompson came around the side of the house he wondered if he made the wrong move letting Henry out of his sight. If the man wanted to run there was no better time to head out the front door than after sending the cops around back. Had the Sheriff read the man that wrong? Was Henry really spooked enough to try and make an escape?
Sheriff Thompson didn’t have to contemplate that scenario long. The whish of the sliding glass door on the porch abov
e indicated Henry was coming down to join them. He descended the porch steps wearing a tie-dye shirt he just changed into and said nothing as he moved in front of the two officers to lead them down the path.
When he couldn’t find April in the grass at the bottom of the hill, Sheriff Thompson’s eyes looked out over the water. The lake was busy even by weekend standards. Boats of all shapes and sizes crowded so close together that it was hard for water skiers to get a complete run in before having to turn around. In between here and there, the Sheriff spotted a person swimming just off the dock.
“We have visitors,” Henry called to the sky.
The three adults reached the lawn as the swimmer climbed up onto the dock. It was April. She had been swimming alone and now stood soaked in a one-piece bathing suit, dripping water all over the wooden planks.
The sound of a closing door drew the Sheriff’s attention. It was Mark exiting the guesthouse, who now approached them down the walkway. “Uncle Henry, what are cops doing here?”
“They want to talk to April,” Henry replied before glancing over his shoulder at the two officers behind him. “Again.”
Henry’s voice held an undertone of annoyance, which Sheriff Thompson sought to counteract.
“Only if April wants to,” he said, supportively.
Mark reached the grass lawn and curiously glanced at his sister still on the dock. “What did she do?”
Although he took note of April’s emotionless expression, Sheriff Thompson kept the majority of his focus on the concerned boy instead. “Your sister didn’t do anything, Mark.”
“She must’ve done something,” Mark said, once again flashing a concerned gaze in April’s direction.
“No,” the Sheriff responded, shaking his head with a smile. “She really didn’t.”
Mark’s lips puckered in a dubious pout as his eyes shifted skeptically between the three adults. “Then why do you want to talk to her?”
