by Willow Rose
I wasn't going to survive it. It was as simple as that.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Chauncey…" I said. "I didn't mean to…"
He held a hand up. He was regaining his façade, something I suspected he was very good at. He had to be in this environment, right?
"It's all right. I still get emotional when talking about…her…about Ella, but…it's been seven months, for crying out loud. I should be able to…" he stopped himself and clenched his fist, then placed it in front of his mouth while forcing back the tears. It was an unbearable sight. Almost broke my heart.
Outside the window, I spotted the pool in the back facing the ocean. I knew from the article that was where they had found the girl the next morning.
Mr. Chauncey clapped his hands. "All right. Now, what about Sofia? What did you want to know?"
"My daughter here…" I pointed at Emily.
Mr. Chauncey gave me a look.
"Well, she is adopted," I explained. I was used to that reaction. "I adopted her when her mother died. She is looking for her relatives and, well…to make a long story short, we believe Sofia was related to her mother."
"I do see the resemblance," Mr. Chauncey said and kept looking at Emily.
"Yes, Sofia is the spitting image of Emily's mother, so we thought they must be related. When we went to visit her in jail, she wouldn't speak to us, so we hope…well, we thought maybe you could shine some light on this for us. Do you know if she has any relatives around here?"
Mr. Chauncey looked at me, surprised. "You don't know?"
I shook my head. "No?"
Mr. Chauncey smiled and got up. "Give me a second.”
Chapter 15
Lyford Cay, Bahamas, October 2018
I watched as Mr. Chauncey walked out and then came back, holding his arm around a young girl, a little younger than Emily, but otherwise close to her spitting image.
I rose to my feet.
"This here is Sydney," Mr. Chauncey said. "She's Sofia's daughter. She's lived with us since she was born. Sofia worked for us back then and so, when she was arrested, we decided to let Sydney stay. She is, after all, like a daughter to us and we would hate to see her in the streets."
"That's…that's awfully big of you considering what her mother did..." I said, feeling a sudden deep respect for this man. Her mother had murdered their only daughter, and yet they had decided to let the girl stay even though her very face reminded them of what her mother had done. I was impressed with their compassion, to say the least.
"Kids around here don't stand a chance if they end up in the streets," he said, while the young girl studied both of us closely. Mostly Emily.
"After all, she can't help what her mother did," Mr. Chauncey continued. "We’re making sure she gets an education, so maybe she can reach above her mother's poor standards and judgment."
I nodded and smiled, then reached out my hand toward Sydney. "I'm Jack Ryder, and this young lady here beside me is Emily. I think you two are related."
The girl gave Emily a shy smile. Emily reached out her arms and pulled her into a hug. It was an emotionally loaded moment, and I could see how badly Emily's legs were shaking beneath her.
"Do you mind if they spend a little time together?" I asked. "We’ve been looking for relatives for days. This is really our first breakthrough."
He shook his head. "Not at all. Feel free to stay as long as you want." He glanced at his watch. "Now…I have a tee time in a few minutes, but Rosie will make sure you have everything you need. She's the one who showed you in."
"Is Mrs. Chauncey home?" I asked.
"No."
I smiled, forced. Mr. Chauncey's eyes had avoided mine when I mentioned Ella's mother, and I detected that things weren't the way they were supposed to be between them. It was only natural with all they had been through. Losing a child could destroy any marriage, no matter how strong it was.
"Naturally. But there was one other thing I wanted to ask of you before you leave."
"Yes?"
"Sofia Rojas. Do you know how she was related to Valentina Rojas and Augustin Rojas? Have you heard of them before maybe? They immigrated to the US in nineteen seventy-five from the Bahamas."
He shook his head. "I really wouldn't know. Sofia has worked for us for many years, but I have never met any of her family."
I thanked Mr. Chauncey for his time and watched him leave, while the two girls had already taken off. I spotted them out on the patio where Sydney was showing Emily around. I let them have their privacy and sat down on another of the many couches, pulled out my phone and called Shannon, responding to a deep desire to let her know how much I loved her.
Chapter 16
Bahamas, July 1983
They took Dylan with them to the park the next morning. Carla, Gabrielle, and the girl. The White Lady had a hard time finding decent friends who would play with the boy, even though she offered to pay their parents. The few children who were good enough for his mother didn't like coming to his house, and Dylan was growing increasingly more and more lonely. The White Lady always asked the girl to hang out with him, so that's what she did most of the time. It wasn't too bad, she thought as she ran after him on the playground, playing Tag. Even if looking at the boy often filled her with more rage than she could contain in her young body. She knew it wasn't him she was angry with; it was his mother, The White Lady. But she couldn't help seeing her in the boy's face.
"You can't catch me," he now yelled and blew raspberries at her. "You can't catch me. You're too slow."
The girl hurried up and ran after him, running behind the slide, then grabbed him by the shirt. She pulled him back forcefully, and the boy ended up on his back, crying.
The girl stood above him, staring down at him, not even caring one bit that the boy was crying. Carla and Gabrielle didn't care either. No one usually did when The White Lady wasn't around. It was their little revolt against the woman who held them all as prisoners.
The girl stared at the boy, relishing in his pain and whining, almost enjoying it, sensing how the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and how overwhelmingly satisfying it was to see him lie there completely defenseless.
"I’m doing it," she heard Gabrielle yell. She and Carla were arguing loudly, and the girl knew what it was about.
"Don't, Gabby. You know it won't end well," Carla argued, pleading with her to stay. "Where will you go? This is a gated area. How will you get past the walls?"
"I'll jump in the ocean and swim down the shore," Gabrielle said.
"You'll get caught; you know you will. Someone will see you and bring you back. This is an island; there is nowhere to go. What if the police find you, huh? Then what will you do?"
"You can't stop me, Carla."
The girl watched them argue with her nostrils flaring in agitation, wondering what to do. She had thought about it all night long. She wanted to go with Gabrielle when she left. She wanted to see the Promised Land and not stay trapped here forever. Somewhere out there behind the walls that surrounded all the houses was another world, and that world housed her parents, her real mom and dad.
The girl looked down at Dylan, who was still crying, then lifted her foot and gave him a deep kick in the stomach before she took off, Dylan wailing behind her.
"Gabrielle. I’m coming with you," she yelled. "Wait for me!"
"No!" Carla yelled. She turned her head toward the girl, her nostrils flaring, then reached out and grabbed the girl's hand. Carla shook her head violently. "I’m not letting you do this. You're staying here; you hear me?"
"No," the girl said. "I want to go with her. I want to go away and find my parents."
Carla kept shaking her head, holding onto the girl's hand, showing incredible strength. The girl fought with all she had to get loose, but by the time Carla finally let go of her hand, Gabrielle was long gone. The girl stared in the direction where she had disappeared, a tear escaping her eye and rolling down her cheek.
"Why would you do that?" the girl cr
ied.
"You be happy now. I just saved your life," Carla said. Carla's hand then grabbed her shoulder and pulled her.
"Come on," Carla said. "Grab the boy. We need to get home."
Chapter 17
Lyford Cay, Bahamas, October 2018
They were inseparable. I hated to have to split them apart, but after two hours, I felt like we were overstaying our welcome and I began preparing myself to tell Emily it was time to go back to the hotel.
The housekeeper, Rosie, stood in the doorway of the living room, constantly staring at me, and I was getting quite uncomfortable. I got the feeling she didn't like us being there. Or maybe she wanted to talk to me but didn't dare to. I couldn't quite figure it out. Just like I couldn't figure out why I felt so uncomfortable in her presence. Maybe it was the concept of housekeepers or the fact that she was black, and I felt like some colonist from back in the day. But as her eyes had lingered on me for long enough, I finally got up. I nodded politely to Rosie, who didn't react even though our eyes met, then walked outside through the sliding doors.
I found the girls sitting on a porch swing by one of the pools, chatting and laughing. I had to stop and listen for a few seconds, enjoying every second of seeing my daughter happy.
"It's time to go," I finally said, approaching them on the swing.
Emily gave me a sad look. "Really?"
"Yes."
Emily gave Sydney a big hug and then handed her one of her necklaces that she always wore. Sydney took it, then hugged her again.
Back in the car, we approached the security guard at the gate. Emily was very quiet as we drove back onto the big road outside of the massive walls. She had her head turned away from me, watching the scenery as we drove by it. It was quite beautiful with the turquoise water on one side of us, but I hardly noticed. I wanted to ask Emily about Sydney and what they talked about, but I didn't want to pry or risk saying something that made her sad. So instead, we ended up driving back to Nassau in silence.
It wasn't until I drove up in front of the hotel and parked that she finally opened up to me. It wasn't at all what I had expected to come out of her mouth.
"She didn't do it."
I looked at Emily, surprised. "What?"
Emily's eyes met mine. There was a deep sadness in hers.
"Her mom. She didn't do it."
I shook my head. "Sofia?"
"Yes, Sofia. She didn't kill Ella Maria."
I exhaled. "Emily. Of course, her daughter will say that her mom is innocent."
Emily shook her head. "No. It's true. She didn't do it. I believe her. She told me she couldn't have killed her."
"How? Does she have any evidence?" I asked.
Emily shook her head. "I don't know. But I believe her, Dad, I really do."
I swallowed, hard. Dad. Emily was suddenly calling me dad. She grabbed my arm with both of her bony hands.
"Without her mother, Sydney has no one. You have to help them. You're the only one who can."
"But, Emily…there is no way I can…"
"Yes, you can. You're the only one who can."
"Emily. We're in a different country. I have no jurisdiction here. I have no right to…"
"If you were a private investigator, you could, couldn't you? I know you can't make any arrests or anything like that, but you can investigate. No one can prevent you from doing that, can they?"
I sighed and rubbed my forehead. The girl was right. No one could stop me if I wanted to investigate.
"Please, Dad? Please?" she asked, her eyes pleading with me. "We still have a week and a half here and nothing else to do."
I closed my eyes and then opened them again.
"I guess I could look into it."
Chapter 18
Bahamas, October 2018
Nancy was sitting on the beach when her boyfriend, Billy, came up to her and placed a wet kiss on her lips. He was still in his trunks, and his hair was wet. Nancy closed her eyes and enjoyed the kiss, wondering if it had all been a dream, a nightmare. The stomach bug, the restroom, the car, and the strange room with no windows or doors.
When she opened her eyes again, she looked into another set of eyes, but they weren’t Billy's.
Nancy screamed and sat up, realizing she was back in the room. The person in front of her grinned from ear to ear.
"W-who are you?" Nancy gasped and sat up.
"Does it matter?" the person asked, leaning forward and almost whispering the words into her face.
"W-where am I? Why are you keeping me here?"
The person reached out a hand and started to caress Nancy's cheek. The gesture made Nancy's blood freeze.
"Such a pretty girl. I did well in choosing you. You're gonna be so beautiful on all the newspaper covers."
Nancy pulled back. "Let me out of here."
The person shook their head, then reached out a hand and grabbed Nancy's throat and started to press. Nancy gasped for air while the person, with a smile, held her throat until she was almost out of air before letting go. Nancy sank to the floor, coughing and gasping, then crawled backward, almost crabbing her way across the carpet. She then stood to her feet and stumbled away from the strange creature, falling once, then getting up again, staggering toward the wall, searching for a place to hide, but finding nothing, not even a closet. There was a restroom at one end of the room, but that had no doors or windows either. No escape.
Like a spider, the figure jumped down in front of her, stretching out their arms, laughing, reaching out, almost grabbing her, but missing as she lunged to the side, then ran to the other wall across the room.
The person chuckled. "You do realize there is nowhere to run, right?"
Nancy answered with a whimper. Panic was spreading inside her. The look in the person's eyes terrified her. The person approached her. Nancy stared around her, still looking for a way out. There had to be one, right? There was a way in. The person had entered somehow while she slept.
"There's nowhere you can hide, nowhere you can run, pretty girl," the person said.
"Please…let me go," Nancy pleaded, even though she knew it was useless.
As the figure leaped for her again, Nancy ran to another wall, gasping for air, but as she passed the person, she felt a hand reach out and grab hers, then pull her back forcefully. Nancy screamed as she flew through the air and landed on the floor, knocking her head into the tiles. When she opened her eyes again, the person was hovering above her, then lifted a fist into the air and slammed it into her face over and over again until she tasted her own blood.
Part II
Chapter 19
Nassau, Bahamas, October 2018
"I’m just asking to take a look at it."
I smiled. The man sitting in front of me was scrutinizing me.
"And I’m just asking why you need to take a look. This case is closed. Killer was found. We haven't asked for your help. We haven't asked for American help with this case."
I sighed and leaned back in the worn-out chair where they had told me to sit. The man behind the desk was Commissioner Maycock. He was looking at me like I was a child that he was scolding. Behind him hung a sign showing an emblem reading ROYAL BAHAMAS POLICE FORCE with a small crown on top.
"We don't want any trouble," he said.
"I know," I said. "But the girl was American. I would like to take a look at her autopsy report, please."
Commissioner Maycock exhaled and leaned back in his old creaking chair. Everything at the police station seemed so old and in dire need of renovation. The only thing that seemed impeccable were their uniforms. The Commissioner was in a beige one that was perfectly ironed. He had a tie underneath the buttoned-up jacket and was wearing an old-fashioned stiff hat with a red ribbon. He didn't look very comfortable or even practical if he needed to run after a suspect, but he looked very presentable, I had to admit. The man in front of me carried many medals on his chest, and I knew he was important.
"We don't want any trouble," he repeat
ed like he didn't believe I had heard him the first time.
I nodded. "I know. I just want to take a look."
"Case is closed. The murderer is in jail. Everything is in order. We can move on now," he said.
I smiled. "Yes, and that is all very good police work, I’m sure. I just…well, I have another case that is similar to this one," I lied. "And there are some details I would like to take a look at if you don't mind."
The little white lie seemed to do the trick. I was now asking the man for his expertise and not judging him to find fault. It made the commissioner thaw and even smile.
"Well, yes, of course."
The big man behind the small desk leaned forward and stretched out his hand toward me. We shook, and he handed me the report, just as one of his deputies came rushing toward him, a round hat in his hand tugged neatly into the side of his uniform. There was an almost military precision to the way he acted that didn't quite fit in with anything else around us.
"Sir, we have an issue."
"What is it, Corporal?"
The corporal changed his position and leaned forward, bending down toward the commissioner. He was sweating heavily.
"Someone is here. Filing a missing person's report. For a teenager."
The commissioner looked up at the corporal. "A missing teenager?"
The corporal nodded. "Yes, sir. She is missing from the cruise ship. Parents are American."
The commissioner let out a deep exhale. "Not again. Have they searched the entire ship?"
