by Cushnie-mansour, Mary M. ; Jamieson, Bethany (EDT); Tanguay, Danielle (EDT)
“Safire isn’t lazy.”
“Well, she is…”
“Why don’t you two just take your dogs and go eat somewhere else!” Betty snapped. She turned and noticed Ace wheeling some boxes over to the back corner. Max was finishing up around the tree. “What’s in those boxes?” she queried.
“Gladiola bulbs,” Ace grinned.
“I didn’t ask for Glads.”
“John has it on the list.”
“When is John going to be here?”
“Soon.”
Betty turned and stomped into the house. Her fingers hovered over the phone. How she wanted to call the police. What were these men up to? Why was her back yard so vital to them? Why did they have to kidnap Safire? And, oh how she hated being so brusque with her best friends, but she didn’t want them to get hurt. Betty sat down on her couch. The floodgate opened.
She awoke to loud meowing. “Safire?” she muttered, heading for the door. And there she was—Safire—alive, and demanding to be let in! Betty opened the door, and Safire rushed in and began rubbing around Betty’s legs. Betty had never heard Safire purr so loudly. Betty thought for a moment, and then picked up the phone and dialled.
“Hello.”
“Is this John?”
“Yes.”
“Betty, here…Your boys have left, and they left quite a mess—I don’t like messes. I was wondering when you were coming back to finish the job?”
“How say, around 3:00, so as not to disturb your nap.”
“You’ll be coming, I hope; I need to discuss some things with you.”
“Yes, I’ll be there.”
“Good.” Betty hung up, smiled, and then made two more calls.
At 3:05, Gwen and Mildred arrived with the boys. It was a joyous reunion at the house at 42 Huddle Street as Buster and Prince licked Safire all over. Betty filled her friends in on the events of the last 24 hours.
Another car pulled up and parked across the street from Betty’s house. Two suited men came up to her door, flashed their badges, and stepped inside. Betty motioned them toward the kitchen: “You can observe from there.” She turned to her friends. “Well, girls, shall we take the boys out for some fresh air? I think Safire could use some as well.”
The ladies headed outside with their pets. Buster and Prince made a beeline straight to the tree and started digging. Safire saw John and began growling and hissing!
“Get those animals away from here!” John ordered as he tried to shoo the dogs away. Buster and Prince began nipping at his pant legs.
And then Betty let Safire go. The cat instantly leaped onto John’s back. He cursed when he saw her, and then screamed as her claws ripped through his shirt! The police officers rushed out the back door and headed off Ace and Max’s departure.
hand. “You’re a brave lady,” he acknowledged.
Betty smiled. She was remembering the stunned look on the faces of the gardeners when the police had dug up the tree and found the security guard’s body. She was remembering their shocked expression as the bags of money were found under the Gladiolas! She could have carried, in a basket, the number of Glad bulbs they’d planted—she wouldn’t have needed to wheel them in! But the best moment was John’s face when he saw Safire—it was the look of utter defeat! It hadn’t taken long for John to give up his boss, Mr. Fornam, the owner of one of the town’s security companies.
“Shall we go out for supper, ladies?” Betty smiled at her friends and patted her purse. “It’s on the police force tonight!”
Rodney was two tiny running shoes scattered on the road. Melissa, his mom, didn’t understand how not one person on such a busy street hadn’t seen what happened. Rodney was never far from her side and she’d only turned her back for a few seconds.
“Who would do a thing like this?” she asked.
“Do you live with the child’s father?” the police officer questioned.
“Of course.” Melissa didn’t understand why the officer had ignored her question.
“Good marriage?”
“What are you getting at?” Melissa demanded. “What does my marriage have to do with Rodney’s abduction?”
The officer cleared his throat. “We have to ask these kinds of questions; too many times children are abducted by an estranged parent.”
Melissa calmed down, realizing it was just routine questioning. “We’ve been married ten years and our marriage is just fine.”
“Rodney your only child?”
“Yes.”
“How old is he?”
“Three.”
“Waited a while to have kids, eh?”
“John didn’t want children at first,” Melissa informed.
“Oh, why was that?”
“He came from a family of ten; said he wanted peace and quiet when he grew up.”
“What made him change his mind?” the officer was studying Melissa carefully.
“Me. I convinced him one child wouldn’t be too disruptive to our lives.”
“Was he?” the officer’s brows rose questioningly.
Melissa didn’t like where this was going. She’d have to be careful not to say something incriminating about John. The officer didn’t need to know John wasn’t much of a father to Rodney—an inconvenience he referred to him as.
“No,” she answered, “Rodney is a perfect child—quiet, bright, obedient…”
“John feel the same way?” the officer’s eyes were too penetrating.
“Of course,” Melissa retrieved a picture from her purse. “This is Rodney on his last birthday,” she handed the photo to the officer.
Officer Brent Campbell studied the picture. The child could pose for cherub pictures, he was so beautiful. The curly blond hair tickled the nape of his neck; his eyes were large and the deepest blue Brent had ever seen; his skin was milk-white and his lips formed a perfect rosebud. If he didn’t already know Rodney was a boy, well…
“Hello?” Melissa snapped, “Shouldn’t you be getting an all points bulletin out for my son before something worse happens?”
“Of course, after a couple more questions—where is John now?”
“Out of town; he travels a lot for his job.”
“Have you contacted him?”
“I left a message on his cell.”
“As soon as you hear from him I need to know.”
“No problem.”
Melissa knew she wouldn’t wouldn't hear from John anytime soon. He’d left a few nights ago—said he regretted his decision and didn’t want to be a father and had given her a choice, him or the kid. She had angrily informed him it was a bit late for that ultimatum. John had stormed out of the house and she hadn’t seen him since.
Brent had been a police officer long enough to know when someone was lying—Melissa was definitely not being truthful. Rodney’s face would end up on a milk carton and on posters at the local department stores, but he would probably never be found. Brent picked up the picture, “I’ll be right back.”
chair. He was a captain now, but he’d never, over the past 20 years, gotten Rodney’s picture out of his mind. The boy was still missing.
Melissa, he’d heard, had a mental breakdown and was institutionalized. He had no idea where the father was. The guy had been a real cold number—just like he’d figured. Hadn’t been able to pin anything on him, though—he’d had an airtight alibi.
Brent glanced out his window. It looked windy outside but Brent decided to walk home anyway. He’d take the route by the university to see if he could catch his daughter, Alicia, between classes. She’d been secretive about something lately—probably had a boyfriend, even though she knew how he felt about her getting involved with someone before she finished her degree.
Brent stopped in his tracks when he saw Alicia coming toward him on the sidewalk. A young man with curly blond hair, large blue eyes, milk-white skin and rosebud lips, accompanied her. “It can’t be,” Brent whispered, “not after all these years.”
“Dad!”
Alicia ran up to him, dragging the young man with her. “I want you to meet Allan; he is new at our school—you won’t believe the things we have in common!” she said excitedly.
Brent shook Allan’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” He paused, studying his daughter’s friend. “You look familiar…”
Allan laughed. “Nice to meet you, too, sir; I’ve heard a lot about you.” There was a mischievous curl to his lips. “You know, there is a lady at the hospital where I’m doing my internship—a patient—she thinks I look familiar, too—calls me Rodney all the time. I think she’s taken a shine to me. Alicia and I delighted her with some flowers yesterday.” Allan smiled.
Brent smiled back. Some things had a way of working out—eventually.
life’s twists and turns. How was it that his daughter befriended the boy who had haunted his dreams for 20 years, or that this same boy was working at the hospital where his birth mother was institutionalized?
Brent was sure Rodney, known as Allan to his daughter, Alicia, had no knowledge of a prior life. What a break if he could finally discover what had happened. He picked up the phone and dialled Alicia’s number.
“Hello,” she sounded sleepy.
“Did I wake you?”
“No—what’s up, Dad?”
“I’d like you and Allan over for supper Friday night.”
“What’s the occasion?”
“Just thought it would be nice to get together before the holiday,” Brent stated. “I figured you guys would have ‘young people’ plans for New Year’s Eve.”
“We’d love to come for supper Friday. We’ll be spending New Years at the hospital where Allan volunteers, though. He thinks it’s more important to spend time with those less fortunate than to party with a bunch of strangers.”
“Anything in particular that he likes to eat?”
“No, he’s not picky. What time?”
“Five-thirty, okay?”
“See you.”
Friday night arrived and Brent still hadn’t figured exactly what angle he was going to use to get the information he needed. The table was set, the chicken and potatoes were in the oven, and a salad was in the fridge. A bottle of white wine sat in an ice bucket. The doorbell rang.
“Hi, Dad!” Alicia burst into the house. “Sure smells good in here; Allan and I are starving!”
Allan smiled. Brent noticed a healthy pinkishness to the white skin. “Yes, I’m famished; Alicia dragged me out skating all afternoon.” Alicia gave Allan a gentle punch.
The evening passed quickly. “Goodnight, Dad; it was lovely,” Alicia hugged her dad.
“Mr. Campbell, do you have plans for New Year’s Eve?” Allan asked.
“Not yet.”
“How about joining us at the hospital?”
Brent smiled. “Love to; what time?”
“Show starts at 8:00.”
Allan’s parents.
“Hello,” a woman answered.
“Hi—Mrs. Carmichael?”
“Yes, who’s calling?”
“Brent Campbell. Your son, Allan, is a friend of my daughter. I would like to meet with you and your husband.”
“Is Allan okay?”
“Yes, I just have some things we need to discuss.”
Brent drove to Barrie and met with Allan’s parents that afternoon. He hated what he had to do, but Melissa deserved to know her son was alive, and the boy had a right to know who he really was.
On the return trip, Brent was overwhelmed with what he’d learned. The Carmichael’s were hesitant about talking at first, but after he told them Melissa’s story and showed them Rodney’s picture, they relented.
They had been living in Vancouver at the time of Rodney’s adoption. They’d never had their own children and because of their age, adoption agencies always passed them over. Then a friend told them about a private agency that could get them a child as long as they had enough money. Before long, a young boy became available—Rodney. Of course, they’d been told his parents had been killed in a car crash and there were no known living relatives. They had moved to Barrie when Allan was sixteen. They were in total agreement with Brent about what had to be done.
Brent had a gut feeling who was responsible for Rodney being stripped from his mother’s arms. Back at the office, Brent pulled Rodney’s file, made a phone call, and a few minutes later a young officer came into his office.
“What’s up, boss?”
Brent passed the officer a picture and a sheet of paper. “This man needs to be picked up and brought in for questioning on a cold case file. He slipped through my fingers 20 years ago, but I have proof now.”
“Proof of what, sir?”
“That he kidnapped and sold his son.”
psychiatric wing. He’d decided to wait until later to talk to Allan. He noticed Melissa right away.
“Hello, Melissa.”
She looked up. “Do I know you?”
“Brent Campbell; I handled your case 20 years ago.”
She smiled sadly and looked away. “Yes, I remember you now.” She paused. “He’s back you know—my Rodney. Works here. Doesn’t know me, though. Says his name is Allan.”
Alicia and Allan entered the room and asked everyone to take their seats. The show began. Brent observed the happiness in the room. As Allan prepared for the finale, Melissa suddenly stood up and started singing a lullaby about a boy named Rodney. When Brent glanced up at Allan, he saw the look on his face.
Allan began walking toward Melissa. His hands reached to her outstretched fingers. “I know that song,” he whispered, tears filling his eyes. “Someone used to sing it to me.” Melissa nodded, smiled, and kept singing.
Brent walked over and put his arm around Allan’s shoulder. “I must speak with you, son; there is something you need to know.”
