Joslyn (Women of Privilege Book 3)

by Bridget Bundy

  “Mrs. Montgomery, my name is Lieutenant Austin Hughes. I’m in charge of the Missing Persons Unit at the Savannah Police Department. I want to assure you, personally, that we will not stop until the ones who are responsible for the horrific events today that has hurt to your family is behind bars. You have my word that this investigation is our number one priority.”

  It sounds like a rehearsed statement, but I’ll take it, nonetheless. “Thank you, Lieutenant Hughes.”

  “Miss Reed,” he says with a nod to my sister.

  “Lieutenant,” Jackie responds curtly.

  “Mrs. Montgomery.” He makes direct eye contact with me again. “I understand you have a speech prepared for the press conference.”

  “I do,” I answer.

  “Alright, I will be making a statement to the press first. All I ask is that you do not give up any details on what the assailants look like. I will be doing that. Talk about your son only; all the great things about him. Show the kidnappers and the world what a great boy he is. Alright?”

  “She will do exactly that, Lieutenant Hughes,” Jackie says.

  “Then I guess we are ready,” he says with a slap of his hands.

  We follow the officers to the living room, into the foyer and vestibule, and out the front door. There is a sea of reporters and nosy neighbors standing on the front lawn. I think I’m going to faint.

  Chapter Six

  Lieutenant Hughes stands above a bouquet of microphones at a rickety podium near the bottom of the front porch steps. He stands upright, presidential and proud in stature. He’s use to the attention, the flashing lights of the camera, the expectant looks from the press.

  “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the press, for coming out this afternoon. Before I begin, I would like to request all of you not to ask questions during or after the announcements. My public affairs officer will be taking your names and phone numbers, and we will contact you in the future with updates we get from this investigation.” Lieutenant Hughes pauses before continuing. “Today at 9:45 A.M., a concerned motorist contacted the Savannah Police Department about a shooting. Chief Operating Officer Harlan Montgomery for the Chatham County Department of Health and Mental Hygiene was injured on Ferguson Avenue by two unknown assailants, but he was not shot. During this incident, Mr. Montgomery’s oldest son, Davian Harlan Montgomery, was kidnapped by the same two subjects. Mrs. Montgomery was with her husband and son during this incident, but she was unharmed. The Savannah Police Department is actively searching for Davian. He is sixteen years old. He was wearing blue jeans with a red and blue Polo shirt and an Atlanta Braves baseball cap. He will have an iPod with him. Davian has brown eyes and a birth mark no bigger than a quarter on his right wrist. He was last seen in a silver car, make and model unknown, with a man and a woman with an infant on Ferguson Avenue in Savannah, Georgia. We do not have a plate number, but there is a dent on the back bumper. The male kidnapper is African American, and he has shoulder-length dreadlocks and a piercing over one of his eyebrows. It is believed he is over six feet tall with a fit build. An African American female with a baby was with him. Unfortunately, we do not have a clear description nor identification for her or the baby. These two people are armed and extremely dangerous, and caution should be used if they are spotted. We ask that if you see anyone close to matching the description of the assailants and/or the vehicle, please contact Savannah Police Department Tip Hotline at 1-404-555-1752, or call your local authorities if you live outside of the Savannah, Georgia, city limits. Please, do not approach these individuals, and do not engage them in any fashion. I repeat, they are armed and extremely dangerous.” Lieutenant Hughes places his hands on each side of the podium and takes a breath before continuing. “Now, ladies and gentlemen of the press, the mother of Davian, Mrs. Joslyn Montgomery, is about to speak to you. She will not be taking any questions during or after her statement. Again I remind you that the Savannah Police Department will contact all of you with details on the case in the future. Thank you.”

  I take the lieutenant’s place. So many strange people are standing in front of me with wide eyes. The camera lights flash more. The reporters have pens or styluses in hands, preparing to write whatever they feel is important. Some of the neighbors stand behind the reporters, watching in curiosity. I’m at a loss for words, looking out at the sea of faces, but then Jackie touches my arm, reminding me I have the speech in my hands. I regain my senses and composure.

  “My name is Joslyn Montgomery, and my son, Davian, has been kidnapped. He was taken this morning while we were on our way to my mother’s home. Davian is the oldest of all my children. He is a smart young man, and a decent, caring human being. He wouldn’t hurt anyone. We love him, and we miss him tremendously.” I pause just to center my emotions, to keep them pushed deep within. After a moment, I find the strength to go on. “To the people that took him, I am begging you to not hurt my son and to return him to us safely. I don’t know what we’ve done to warrant this attention, but I am sorry about whatever it is. Please, understand that my son is not deserving of whatever you have against me and my family. Please, I beg you, to let him go. Take him to the nearest church, fire station, police station, any safe haven. Please, as a mother, I am begging you to let Davian go.” I have nothing else left to say, but I don’t want to move away from the podium.

  Jackie guides me back into the house, all the way to the great hall. I collapse in the first chair I see, and I cover my eyes. Radios from police officers are squelching. People are whispering among themselves. All of these officers just standing around is driving me to madness. Why aren’t they driving the roads looking for my son? Why don’t they have every outgoing road blocked and stopping every car? My son deserves the attention.

  I stand up, meaning to have a word with Detective Sawyer, who is just now coming into the house with Lieutenant Hughes, but Terrence grabs my arm. He holds his cell phone to his chest.

  “Harlan is out of surgery,” he says.

  “How is he?”

  “Mom says he’s in a coma.”

  “I have to go to the hospital,” I reply, looking around for the car keys. Then I realize I didn’t drive the SUV back to the house. The police still have it.

  “What’s wrong, Joslyn?” Detective Sawyer asks.

  “Harlan is out of surgery. I have to get to the hospital.”

  “But what if the kidnappers call?”

  I didn’t even think about that. Too much is going on. What am I going to do? I’m being pulled in two different directions, each one is equally important.

  “Jackie, I can’t stay, and I can’t leave. What-”

  “I’ll stay,” Jackie offers. “Go to the hospital. If the kidnappers call, the police and I will handle it. Just go.”

  “Okay,” I reply. “But you contact me the moment they call you.”

  “You know I will, Joslyn. Get going. Terrence, go with her. Please, don’t let her drive.”

  “We’ll take my car,” he says.

  Terrence and I rush outside to his car that’s parked in the driveway. The reporters swarm us, but we manage to get in. He backs out slowly out of the driveway, trying to avoid the reporters that give us very little room. Suddenly, a woman reporter steps in the way. Terrence has to brake. These reporters are just relentless. A police officer makes her move by nearly pushing her out of the way. I’m getting real impatient.

  “Hurry, Terrence.”

  He gets out to the street successfully without incident and down to the main road that leads to the front gate. Just as we go through, I suddenly remember that not just anyone can get into Tudor Estates. A person has to be a resident or be signed in on the visitor’s log to get inside. So, who in the world let them in, and why are they allowed to linger? The police can’t give them access. Only a resident, no exceptions. I swear if they continue that same insane swarm at me whenever I leave or come back, they will have to go, and I will cancel their access. Don’t care who’s let them in. That’s another piec
e of drama I don’t need. My focus is finding my son and to support my husband in his fight to survive and get well. I’m not here to feed their headlines or for their amusement. I’ll see what they do when I get back home.

  Chapter Seven

  Harlan’s head is wrapped. His face is swollen. His chest rises and falls evenly. The monitor beeps lazy tones. Just seeing my husband like this is breaking my heart. He doesn’t even look like the man I woke up with this morning.

  How did everything get so bad so fast? I don’t know what I’m going to do if I lose him. How am I supposed to continue without him? I don’t know if I can. I hold his hand and weep as all the nightmares haunt me.

  Lord have mercy. The kids. I forgot about them. Kristina, Kale, and Janae. How will I explain this to them? Kristina is strong. She’ll be able to deal, but the twins are another matter entirely. They’ll cry, ask questions; wonder if something could have been done differently. They’ll look to me to fix it all, to bring Harlan and Davian home, but I won’t be able to do it. I can’t face them, not until I can work out what to say.

  “Mrs. Montgomery,” a woman says.

  She’s standing on the other side of the bed, wearing a white lab coat with a silver clipboard in her hands. I didn’t hear her come in. I look around, wondering if someone else is in the room. It’s only her. The woman is African American with short curly hair and a bright face. Big brown eyes look upon me with sincere compassion, and she has a smile of hope. I have no idea who she is or what she wants, but she has my full attention.

  “My name is Dr. Bryant. I’ve been taking care of your husband.”

  “Oh, it’s nice to meet you.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to speak with you earlier, but I talked to Mr. Montgomery’s parents. Did they tell you about your husband’s condition?”

  “They told me he was in a coma. That was about it.”

  “Mrs. Montgomery, your husband suffered a concussion. He wasn’t shot, but the bullet did graze his skull. He suffered a blow from a blunt object. We also found pieces of glass in his head and down the side of his face near his right ear.”

  “Will he make it?” I ask.

  “I believe he will, but I’m not sure if he’ll be the same. If he wakes up, we’ll see.”

  “Harlan is a fighter,” I say with confidence. “There is no ‘if he wakes up.’ He will wake up, and he’ll be fine.”

  She doesn’t seem as hopeful as I am. She lowers her eyes, as if she’s hiding something. “Do you have any questions for me, Mrs. Montgomery?”

  “No.” Really, I don’t know what to ask.

  “Contact the nurses if you do, and they will get in touch with me if they can’t answer your questions. I’m never too far away.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Bryant.”

  She gives me a smile and departs the room. In the hallway, Harlan’s parents and brother are keeping vigil, and all of them stretch their necks to take a peek before the door slides shut. Only one person is allowed in Harlan’s room at a time, strict orders from the doctor. I’m glad. This is my time with my husband, and I don’t need Harlan’s parents fussing over him while he’s trying to get well.

  I continue to hold Harlan’s hand while praying for his well-being. I talk to him, recalling the past and making plans for the future. An hour goes by at a snail’s pace and then another. I can’t bear to leave my husband. I’m expecting him to wake up at any second, at any minute, and gift me his voice, his love. But he sleeps, never a budge, just the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. Another few minutes go by and Terrence pokes his head into the room.

  “Joslyn, I’m sorry to bother you, but your mom has been trying to call you.”

  That’s not good. I forgot to tell her about Harlan and Davian. I kiss the back of my husband’s hand before leaving. Sarah, Harlan’s mother, slips into the room. Terrence points to the nurse’s desk at the phone on the counter.

  “Hello,” I say as I answer the phone.

  “Joslyn?” My mom sounds panicked and angry. “Is it true? Davian has been kidnapped?”

  “Yes, it’s true.”

  “Damn, Joslyn! When in the hell were you going to tell me?”

  “I’m sorry, Mom, but I forgot.”

  “What happened? Who took my grandson?”

  “I don’t know who took-”

  “And what’s this shit I hear about Harlan being shot?”

  “He wasn’t shot. Oh my God, Mom-”

  “Why didn’t you call me? How hard is it to pick up the damn phone?”

  She’s taking me right to the precipice. I swear, I’m just going to jump off a cliff. Maybe, they’ll be peace at the bottom. I close my eyes while choking the phone with my hand.

  “Your ass called Jackie, didn’t you?”

  She’s right. Jackie was the first one I called. I’d do it again.

  “SON OF A BITCH!” Tires begin to screech. I hold my breath, waiting for the unmistakable sounds of cars colliding. A horn goes off and then silence.

  “Mom, are you alright?”

  “Sorry ass drivers! Everybody need to get out of my way!” Only my mother. She probably ran someone completely off the road.

  I grab the bridge of my nose. “You need to slow down and calm down. Where are you going anyway?”

  “I’m on my way to the hospital!” The horn goes off again, more cussing. “That sumbitch almost hit me! Stupid-”

  “Mom,” I interrupt her, “do not come to the hospital.”

  “I’m only five minutes away. I’m coming.”

  Her temperament can be compared to that of an atom bomb. Except the mushroom cloud she’ll create would be more of an explosive out of control hurricane, and with Oliver being here, those two will go at it so bad that both of them will be put out of the hospital and possibly arrested for causing a disturbance. She cannot come here with her drama and noise. An idea pops into my head.

  “Mom, just do me a favor,” I reply.

  “What damn favor?” she says with irritation. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Go by Melanie’s house and get the twins and Kristina. Take them back to your house, don’t even stop at Jackie’s house. There are a ton of reporters there, and I don’t want the kids on television.”

  “I’m on the way,” she quickly responds.

  Just like that, my mom has made a complete one-eighty, and she was calm when she spoke. I was certain that she was going to fight me on what I wanted her to do. I guess when it comes to the grandkids, she’ll drive to the moon and back without hesitation.

  I remark to her, “If they don’t ask about their father and their brother, then don’t mention what happened. If they already know, don’t tell them anything else. I will explain everything to them myself later when I see them. Okay?”

  “Fine with me, but you and I will be having a discussion later on, as well.”

  I roll my eyes. “Alright, Mom, thank you for your help.” I hang up before she can get another syllable out.

  “Momma Caroline,” Terrence says as he leans against the nurse’s desk.

  “More like Angry Bear Caroline. She’s stressing me out, Terrence.”

  “She’s worried, Joslyn.”

  I pick up the receiver to call Jackie to let her know Mom will be getting the kids and to make sure she takes them back to her house in the city. Jackie tells me she’ll ensure my wishes will be followed. After I hang up, I cover my face and blow out my frustration. What else is next to make me totally unhinge from reality?

  “I think this is the hardest day I’ve ever had,” I remark.

  “Yes, it is, but you’re going to get through it and many more. You’re not in this alone.”

  “You’re always so positive about everything, Terrence.”

  “I have to be,” he says. “I’m about to make your life easier. Well, the family is.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Mom and Dad were talking about taking shifts and staying with Harlan until he’s well. With
Dave missing, we were pretty sure the police will want your full attention.”

  “Okay,” I remark. “That’s actually a good idea.”

  “Mom and Jeremiah will stay until visiting hours are up today. Starting tomorrow morning, Mom will come first thing. Dad will be here in the afternoon since he still has to work. I’m on vacation this week. So, I’ll be available to help you or sit with Harlan if Mom or Dad can’t do it.”

  “That sounds like a great plan. I guess I can stay overnight since the kids will be with my mom.”

  “The hospital won’t allow overnight visitors,” he says.

  “Oh,” I remark with disappointment.

  “But you already know you can stop by anytime during the day. The important thing is Harlan won’t be alone.”

  “Thank you so much, Terrence. That actually takes a huge load off my shoulders.”

  “It’s no problem, Joslyn. We’re fam-” Terrence’s attention switches to something behind me.

  I twist around. Detective Richardson is coming up the hallway. He’s not smiling. My heart sinks. I don’t want to hear any bad news.

  “Mrs. Montgomery, can we talk in private?”

  I shake my head, tears threatening to burst. “Is it Davian? Is he okay?”

  “I haven’t gotten any news about your son. I just want to ask you questions.”

  Sighing in relief, I wipe away my tears. Terrence pats my back.

  “Can we talk in the cafeteria?” Detective Richardson asks. “I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”

  “Want me to go with you?” Terrence asks.

  “Is this about Davian?” Oliver asks as he comes over to us.

  “No, sir. I just want to have a word with Mrs. Montgomery.”

  “Detective, don’t be hiding anything from the rest of the family. Davian is important to all of us.”