“This morning, on our way to your grandmother’s house, the truck got a flat tire. Your dad got out, and two people pulled up soon after that. I thought they were going to help us, and your dad thought the same. A man got out, and he hurt your father. A woman pointed a gun at me, and they took Davian.”
I didn’t even think twice about telling them the truth. They deserve to know the danger we were involved in. If I don’t tell them, they’ll hear rumors and lies instead. Then I’d have to fix it, and once a person hears a certain story the first time, it’s hard to correct it. So, I’m letting it all out right now, not holding anything back that they want to know.
“Did they shoot Dave? Is he okay?” Kristina is now strangling my fingers to the point they hurt.
“No, they didn’t, and I’m not sure if he’s okay.”
“Did they do that?” Janae asks while touching the abrasion on my arm.
I take my hand from Kristina’s hold and gently touch Janae on her cheek. “No, baby, your mom was clumsy. I fell when I was trying to help Daddy, but as you can see otherwise, I’m perfectly fine.”
“What did they want?” Kristina sobs.
“I really don’t know,” I answer.
“I want to see Dad tonight,” Kale demands. “I want to see him right now.”
“He’s not well, but I will try to take you to see him tomorrow.”
“No,” Kale says defiantly. “Now. I want to see him right now.”
“What did she just say?” my mom chimes in with a stern voice.
Kale lowers his head, shoulders slump. I hate to see him pouting, but I do understand how he feels.
“Tomorrow,” I say, lifting his chin. “I promise you tomorrow.”
“But what if he dies before then?” Kale asks. His jaw is set. Anger swells in his cheeks.
“Your father is a fighter. It won’t happen.” My heart soars and quacks simultaneously. I want to believe what I said to him, but I’m not even so certain. But I can’t let him see. I straighten my back and put on a rigid show of determination. “Alright, listen to me good. I need all of you to bear with me. We have gone through some major changes lately, and unfortunately, it’s not over. But we will make it and get back to normal. I just need for you guys to be patient and to never give up on your father and brother. We are family. We are going to get through this.”
My little speech did nothing. Kristina lowers her head. Tears leak from her eyes, landing on her legs. She’s absolutely torn up. Janae is about to burst at the seams with emotions. Kale is pent-up with hellfire rage. Their agony comes at me all at once, and I’m trembling trying to keep it together.
“We’re going to be alright, kids. You watch what I tell you.” Still, they’re not moved to hope. I can’t do this with them, not any longer. Their reactions are bigger than mine, and I’m drowning. “Okay, I guess you guys need to get ready for dinner.”
“Will you stay with us, Mom?” Kristina mumbles.
“The police want me back at Jackie’s house, just in case the kidnappers call. I have to be available for Davian. Alright? You guys understand, right?”
Kale is the only one who doesn’t respond. He simply stares at me.
“Give me a big hug,” I say to them. “Come here. I love you, guys.”
They stand and give me somewhat of a group embrace, but not Kale. He remains on the sofa, fingers intertwined on his lap. I accept the girls’ show of love. Their warm little bodies tremble in my arms. The girls step away so Kale can give me a hug. Still, he does not move.
“Don’t worry about anything, okay?” I nod my head at him, showing confidence and giving him a hopeful smile. “I will handle this, Kale, and I will bring our family back together again. You’ll see. I promise.”
“Stop lying to us,” he responds coldly. “Dave is gone. Dad will be, too. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”
His words hit me to the core. My own son has taken my courage and stomped on it without regret or a second thought. And the worse part about it? He knows his words have ripped me to pieces, and Kale will not apologize, even if I try to make him. He truly meant what he said. Unable to reprimand or correct him, I go to the other side of the coffee table. Kale walks away, defiant and angry as ever. Janae is close behind him. They head down the hallway to their bedroom.
My son doubts me, and my heart is broken. The only way to fix it and this family is by bringing Davian home. I might not know how or where to begin, but I have to try.
“Kristina, get ready for dinner,” my mom says.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She gives me another hug, clearly trying to smooth over the hurt that Kale lashed on me. When she steps away, Kristina doesn’t look in my direction, but I can sense her disappointment and sadness. Those feelings jolt at my already sensitive soul. I initially misread the intentions of her hug. Kristina was seeking comfort for herself, but she only got from me what she was feeling in return. I watch as she walks the same path of sadness the twins took to their bedroom.
My children has me absolutely spent, but I have to overcome the exhaustion, the sickness that threatens me. Because if I don’t, my whole family will ignite in destruction and disintegrate to cinder. I will not let that happen.
“Joslyn.” Terrence touches my shoulder.
I shake my head, fighting salty tears that’s cresting. Pushing his hand away, I go outside where I can get away from the choking pain that has overtaken me.
Chapter Eleven
My mom joins me on the porch. Her bony arms are folded, and she’s staring at me with dark brown, reddened eyes. She’s wearing a floral shirt with yellow pants. Feet with yellow painted toenails are adorned with matching canary thongs with a daisy as a decorative touch on each shoe. Silver hair - not a strand of black anywhere - is combed into a ponytail that ends past her shoulders. My mom is a beautiful lady, an absolute royal queen…on the outside. The gift of no aging has been heaped on her tenfold, but she is made of hardcore cement on the inside. She does not believe in hugs, kisses, or even an ounce of compassion. At least, when it comes to me and Jackie. The grandkids are a different matter. She’s absolute mush around them, but at times strict. Even now, she’s showing the woman who raised me and my sister, stubborn with an indistinguishable fire in her belly.
I just wish for once - like right now - she would soften. As an adult with a family and a home, I still crave her attention like a hurting child. But my mom has never been good with compassion with me. She’s mean as a bear just waking up from hibernation and her mantra? Life is shit. Deal with it and don’t bother her with the details. This is the moment I need her to drop that stupid mantra, but I know she won’t. She doesn’t know how.
“You told the children everything? You didn’t leave anything out?” my mom asks.
“I told them exactly what happened today. I left nothing out.”
“Did they put their hands on you?”
“Who?”
“The people that took Dave?”
“No, they didn’t put their hands on me.”
“What’s the police doing?”
“I haven’t spoken to the detective investigating Davian’s kidnapping, but I have spoken with the detective dealing with Harlan’s shooting.”
“Do they have suspects?” My own mother is grating my nerves. She gets an answer. She shoots off another question. I feel like I’m getting interrogated. She has no idea how rundown I am, and she’s not helping me at all.
“No, Mom, I don’t think so.”
“Joslyn, I don’t understand how this can happen in the first place.”
“You expect me to?”
“How is Oliver treating you?”
“Huh?” Now, where did that question come from? I’m looking at her with total confusion.
“You heard me,” she says with a matter of fact tone. “How is he treating you? I know he can be a son-of-a-bitch.”
“Don’t let Terrence hear you say that.”
“He knows that
his daddy…Is. A. Son. Of. A. Bitch.”
“Mom,” I say with exhaustion. “Enough. I can’t deal right now.”
“How has he been treating you?” She has a stone face of seriousness.
“I haven’t talked to him.”
“Mm-hmm. What about Sarah?”
“I only spoke to her for a little bit.”
“What are you going to do now?”
I am being interrogated. Impatiently, I answer, “I’m going back to Jackie’s house to speak with Detective Sawyer and to find out if the kidnappers have made any demands.”
“Joslyn, you have to start thinking about all outcomes. What if Harlan doesn’t make it? What if-”
“I’ve thought about it all, Mom, and I don’t want to hear it out loud. And no more questions. I’m done.”
“You have to start facing reality,” she plainly states. “Life isn’t guaranteed to no one.”
“Mom, I hear you. I get it. Can we drop it?”
She throws up her hands in surrender, which I really don’t believe she’s giving up. When that woman starts on a subject, she likes to devour it to nothing.
“Terrence! I’m ready to go.” I have to leave before she starts up again.
“Alright!” he yells from inside the house. “Just getting a taste of moonshine!”
“Best in the state of Georgia,” my mom declares proudly.
I roll my eyes and shake my head. Terrence is going to light his insides on fire drinking that nasty stuff.
“Just make sure you keep that crap away from the kids,” I tell her. “As a matter of fact, make sure you keep everything that’s illegal away from them, and you know what I mean. No smoking pot. No drinking moonshine, and I don’t want you cussing around them, either.”
“They probably know more cuss words than I do between the three of them, and you know I’m not doing my business around my grandbabies. Can’t believe you think I would do that. I ain’t that damn hood.”
I point at her, giving her a silent warning. She might be on point on some things, but my mom can be dangerously irresponsible on others. This is the woman who smokes marijuana like cigarettes and drinks moonshine like water, and she’ll fight anybody for any reason. That’s why I wasn’t so up on Davian staying with her. It took half the summer, Gia Briggs and Joshua Davis close to burning down my house, and a lot of begging on Davian’s part for me to agree to let him live with his grandmother for a while. But I had to lay down the law with her when I made the decision just like I did now. She better behave. I really, really need her to behave.
Terrence and I leave. I want to go back and give the kids hugs and kisses, but I don’t think I can face them again today. I’m itching to get back to Jackie’s house, anyway. I need real updates on the police’s progress. Terrence did speak to Jackie while I was in Harlan’s room and on our way to my mom’s house earlier, but she told him there was nothing new. No ransom call. No more new leads. No suspects named. After all that time, they still had nothing. What good is Detective Sawyer and Detective Richardson if that’s true? I’m going to get all the details in a few minutes, and Detective Sawyer better give me something to show they are capable of doing their jobs.
Chapter Twelve
The reporters are still camped out in front of Jackie’s house. They are sharks, stalking and circling, as if I’m fresh prey. I’m beginning to hate them. They’re just hanging around for no other reason than to be nosy. All of them are yelling over each other. All I hear is ‘Mrs. Montgomery! Mrs. Montgomery! Any news on your son! Any news on your husband! Mrs. Montgomery!’ The nonstop flashing of lights from their cameras are blinding. I have to cover my eyes with my arm as Terrence slowly goes through them into the safety of the garage. They have to go. I see no point in having the press around. The life of my family is not made for T.V.
Once the garage door is closed, I look over at Terrence, thankful he got me home safe.
“They’re relentless,” I remark.
“Are you going to be alright?” Terrence asks. “I’m not going in if you’re good.”
“Yeah, I should be.”
“Call me if you need anything else.”
“I will. Thanks for being my chaperone.”
“I got you, girl.”
I kiss him on the cheek and get out the car. Once I’m in the library, the garage door goes back up. The sounds of the reporters are at full volume once again. The same demands are shouted. Terrence honks his horn as he backs out. After he’s clear, I hit the switch for the garage door to close. The press is snapping pictures of me and some are focused on Terrence. Sharks, that’s all they are.
As I cross the library, I notice a police officer is sitting at the only desk in the room with two laptops, a phone, and an over-the-head earpiece. She’s engrossed in a book, smiling at the words she’s reading. The cover catches my attention. Large white hands over dark flesh. The female face is hidden. The male is smiling. He’s into the woman he’s touching. I glance at the title, Misconduct by Nicety. Usually, I would ask what the story was about and be looking to add another paperback to my collection at home, but I have to keep going. My main goal is to speak with Detective Sawyer. She has the answers I’m looking for. I find her in the great hall talking to Jackie. Neither one seems too happy.
“Anything new?” I ask them.
Jackie shakes her head.
“Not a single call,” Detective Sawyer answers.
I huff with pure aggravation. “Has anyone seen the car?”
“No sign of the car, but Detective Richardson and Detective Parker have been following up on leads for most of the day.”
“Well, I know for a fact Detective Richardson isn’t following up on any leads because he was at the hospital trying to blame me for hurting my own family.”
Jackie looks down at the floor, hands folded. She has an opinion, something contrary to what I’ve just said, but she’s keeping it to herself. That’s good. I don’t want to hear anything other than her support.
“Joslyn,” Detective Sawyer remarks, “Detective Richardson questioned you because he has to rule you out. Usually, immediate family members are considered suspects first, until a sufficient alibi is established. Personally, I don’t believe you were involved, but he had to question you.”
“He knows as well as you do that I’m not involved. He was just being a prick for no reason. I didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”
“Joslyn, he was doing his job.”
“Moving on,” I reply with an attitude. “What else did you find out? Anything on the man and woman?”
“We’ve got nothing.”
I sigh. Aggravation has completely set in. “I’m going to be honest with you, Detective Sawyer. I feel like the police aren’t doing enough. There is no way you have nothing after all this time.”
“Every detective in the missing persons unit, along with several uniformed officers, are looking for your son. We are taking phone calls at the station, and we are trying to follow each tip all the way to the end. And, Joslyn, let me remind you what we’re working with from the beginning. Your identification of the assailants weren’t that good. There are hundreds of young African American men with dreadlocks in the state of Georgia. And as for the woman, you don’t remember anything about her.”
“But you people are the experts!” I respond. “No matter what information I give, whether it’s a lot or a little, you should be able to do more than what you have today!”
“Joslyn, I understand you want immediate results. I want them, too. But we can only work with what we have, and that’s not very much.”
“Still not good enough,” I stubbornly reply. “Find my son, Detective Sawyer. Do your job.”
She glances at Jackie and then at me before grabbing her satchel from the sofa. She wants to say something else, but I can tell she’s reconsidering.
“Next I speak to you,” I remark, “I expect to hear better news.”
Detective Sawyer chuckles, as if what I
said is a laughing matter. I look over at Jackie, not really believing the reaction from this cop. Does she think I’m playing with her? Are my demands a joke?
“What’s so funny?” I ask her.
“Nothing at all,” Detective Sawyer reply. “Good night, Mrs. Montgomery.”
Yeah, she better show some respect. I cross my arms, watching her leave.
“Oh, and one more thing.” She turns and looks me right in the eyes. “You need to get a lawyer.”
“She has one,” Jackie quickly answers.
What does that supposed to mean? Get a lawyer? For what? Is that a threat?
A sad smile appears on Detective Sawyer face as she turns and leaves the great room, heading for the front door. Under totally different circumstances, I would be a gracious hostess and walk her to the door with thanks and fanfare, but that detective royally pissed me off.
The moment the front door closes, Jackie tries to speak. I lift my finger, indicating that I don’t want to hear anything she has to say. I walk out to the back patio. As long as my family is in trouble and the police is responsible for bringing them home, I don’t want to hear any excuses, explanations, reasons, nor lies from anyone, including my sister. Taking in deep breaths and exhaling, I try to calm my nerves. What an absolute awful day. There is no resolution, just crap piled on top of more crap.
“Joslyn,” Jackie says as she joins me. “You and I need to have a serious talk.”
“No,” I fiercely reply. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“You are a suspect.”
“I’m not listening to you, Jackie.”
“The hell you ain’t!” she snaps, jerking me around to face her. I snatch my arm away from her.
“Back off!” I yell.
“You’re going to fucking listen, whether you want to or not! When Detective Sawyer told you to get a lawyer, she meant it, Joslyn. You are a suspect in the kidnapping of your son and the attempted murder of your husband. They are not talking out the sides of their heads, and they are not playing with you.”
Joslyn (Women of Privilege Book 3) Page 6
