SAY YOU LOVE ME (Eva Rae Thomas Mystery Book 4)

by Willow Rose

  “He’s in here,” she said and opened the door to a small room with many windows. In there on the carpet, by a bunch of toys, sat Jack, playing with a truck, making noises with his mouth.

  Marlene walked closer, then squatted next to him. Tears were piling up in her eyes, and she felt a huge knot in her throat. She hadn’t seen her son in four weeks, and he looked so much older and taller already.

  Bruce had been arrested was all she had heard. The child porn on his computer was enough to get him convicted, and he would be jailed for a long time was what her lawyer said. Meanwhile, the investigators were still trying to figure out Marlene’s part in the matter, if she knew and closed her eyes to it, or if she took part in what happened to Jack. The abuse as they kept calling it. Marlene was going to fight them with all she had, and her lawyer said she had a chance of getting him back, not a big one, but it was there.

  Hope was all she had to cling to.

  “Hi there, sweetie. What are you doing?” she asked, suddenly feeling estranged from her own son. She was suddenly terrified that he would start to cry or yell and that they’d think she was doing something wrong, that she was abusing him.

  She had been going through every detail of her upbringing of the boy lately, wondering what could be interpreted as abuse. Back when she grabbed his arm because he wouldn’t take a shower? Was that abuse? Had she hurt him?

  It was her lawyer who had asked her to think about all the situations through his upbringing that they might use against her in the courtroom. Every little detail counted, he said.

  What about the time she got frustrated with him in the car and yelled? Or the time when she pulled him out of his car seat, and he screamed because his foot got stuck and she didn’t notice because she was in a hurry? And then when she looked at his leg, it had a bruise on it?

  All of them, her lawyer had said. All of them needed to see the light of day so they could prepare properly for the court session and the attacks that might come.

  “Sweetie? Jack? Hi there. It’s me. It’s your momma.”

  The boy didn’t look up. He completely ignored her and kept playing with his truck, running it across the floor like she wasn’t even in the room.

  Hadn’t he missed her at all?

  Marlene looked back at the woman from DCF. “What’s wrong with him? Why won’t he talk to me?”

  The woman answered with a shrug, then looked down at her pad in her lap. She glanced at her watch, then said:

  “You have seventeen minutes left.”

  Marlene looked at her son again, then smiled. “Jack, how about we talk a little, huh? Mommy missed you so much, and I can’t wait to be with you some more. Are you all right?”

  The boy turned his back on her and continued playing. Marlene felt her heart sink. This was heartbreaking. Her own son didn’t even want to look at her?

  How did this happen?

  “Jack? Don’t you want to talk to me at all? I missed you, sweetie.”

  The boy finally lifted his eyes and glanced at her, his eyes suddenly ablaze. He rose to his feet and pointed his finger at her.

  “You’re evil. Stay away from me.”

  Marlene backed up, tears welling up in her eyes. She turned to look at the woman from DCF, then approached her. She didn’t mean to, but it happened anyway. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. All these months of frustration and anger were finally let out as she screamed at the woman and grabbed her arm:

  “What have you done to him? My son never spoke to me like that before. What did you do to him? What did you do to my SON?”

  Chapter Ninety-One

  “So, what do you think happened to Adam?” Eileen asked and handed me a cup of coffee. I sipped it and sat down on a stool in the kitchen. Being back, even with the circumstances of my brother missing and a hurricane coming was still far better than being on the inside. I hoped I never had to spend a night like that again.

  I shrugged and closed my eyes, letting the warm drink spark life into me again. Eileen pushed a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of me, and I gulped it down so fast I almost choked. I hadn’t eaten properly for a long time, and this was heaven-sent.

  “I don’t know. I know what I fear might have happened,” I said.

  “I mean he can’t just have walked away on his own, can he?” she asked.

  “It’s possible,” David said as he grabbed a cup and poured coffee into it. “But not very likely. It’s just not Adam’s style to run away from everything. Besides, where would he go?”

  “So, we’re assuming someone helped him?” Eileen asked.

  I nodded and looked around the dark house. With the windows boarded up with plywood, it seemed smaller somehow.

  “What are we going to do?” David asked me. “How do we find him?”

  “In the middle of a hurricane?” Eileen asked. “I say we have to wait till it’s blown over. It might make landfall in a few hours. We should stay inside. It’s no time to run around or drive around for that matter.”

  David nodded. “She’s right. Safety first. We have to wait and look for him when it’s all over — when the storm has passed us.”

  I exhaled, exhausted. I really didn’t like the thought of Adam out there all alone, on his own through all this. Hadn’t he been through enough? The kid was fifteen, for crying out loud — same age as my Olivia. I would be scared half to death if she was out there all alone, and I could tell that David was too.

  I didn’t like this one bit.

  As a wind gust blew down the street, a trash can tipped over and was blown down the road, making an awful noise outside. A fence by the neighbor’s house was loose and banging in the wind. I stared at my phone, wondering if we’d lose both power and service during this storm when suddenly we heard noise outside coming from the porch. A second later, there was a rapid knock on the door. My eyes met Eileen’s.

  “Who’s outside in this weather?” she asked.

  “I’ll go check,” I said and walked to the door and opened it. Outside stood Chris, leaning on his crutches, an anxious look on his face.

  “Chris? What the heck are you doing here? You know the storm is approaching, right? Come on in.”

  He moved forward, humping along on his crutches, and I closed the door behind him. He sat down in my grandmother’s favorite recliner, the one she usually fell asleep in at night when she didn’t want to go up the stairs to sleep, which was most nights, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, feeling uneasy. This couldn’t be good. Not by the look on his face.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone, then turned it on.

  “There’s something I need to show you,” he said. “And you’re not going to like it.”

  Chapter Ninety-Two

  “I received this video about an hour ago,” Chris said and held up his phone. I grabbed it from his hand and turned on the video. As I saw Adam’s strained face on the display, my heart dropped.

  “What is this? Who sent it?”

  “I don’t know,” Chris said. “But there’s a message. It’s for me, and I don’t know what to do.”

  I played the video, my heart pounding in my chest as I saw the gun placed against Adam’s temple and the strain on his face. He was gagged and blindfolded, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but I didn’t need to. Not to know just how scared he was, the poor kid.

  “If you go to the police, he dies; if you tell anyone, he gets it. Do you understand?” the distorted voice in the video said.

  I stopped it and looked at Chris.

  “I can’t do it,” he said, choking up. “I simply refuse to.”

  “What does he want him to do?” David said, approaching us.

  “To grab a gun and go shoot up one of the shelters while people are evacuated from the hurricane, thinking they’re safe,” I said with a deep sigh. This wasn’t good. Remembering what happened to Allyson after the Leech sent a similar video to Adam, I had a feeling Adam wasn’t goi
ng to get out of this alive. No matter what Chris did or didn’t do.

  “I … I c-can’t do it. I can’t hurt anyone. I’ve never even shot a gun before,” Chris said. “I don’t know who or what this guy thinks I am. But I’m not the one he thinks I am. Look at me. I’m handicapped for crying out loud.”

  “That’s probably why he chose you,” I said. “Because no one will suspect this of you, of someone walking into the shelter on crutches.”

  “But …?”

  Chris sent me a look of despair, his eyes were wet, and a tear escaped. It rolled down his cheek and landed on his lip.

  “I can’t do it,” Chris said. “I came here to tell you that. I’m sorry, and I’ll have to live with the guilt for the rest of my life if Adam dies, but I can’t do it. If I could take Adam’s place, I would, but I can’t.”

  I placed a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “Of course not. No one expects you to do what he is telling you to. No one. You did the right thing coming to me with this video.”

  “I know I might have doomed Adam by doing it,” he said. “But I didn’t know where else to turn. I figured you might be able to help.”

  “You did well, Chris,” I said. “Are you staying here for the storm?”

  He nodded. “My grandmother is back at the house. We’re riding it out together.”

  Something heavy tipped over outside, and a loud noise emerged as it scrambled across the road. I opened the door and looked out. It was raining hard now, and there were already big puddles in the street. Water was rising quickly.

  “I think you might want to get back to her as soon as possible, while you still can,” I said and grabbed my phone and car keys. Chris humped out and down the steps. I watched him as he made it up the street, making sure he made it to his house up the street safely.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Eileen asked, placing both hands on her hips.

  “Out,” I said. “I need to find Adam before it’s too late.”

  I slammed the door shut before she or anyone else could protest, then rushed to my minivan, getting soaked during the few yards I had to go. A neighbor’s tree was leaning dangerously close to a tipping point. I went online and looked at the hurricane app to see Damian’s track. Now they were saying that it might make landfall on Amelia Island, right on our beach. I figured I had at least a couple of hours before it got really dangerous.

  Chapter Ninety-Three

  Mr. Jenkins’ street looked as deserted as the rest of the island, with its closed-up houses and plywood that was protecting the windows. All the yards were stripped of loose items, the trash bins had been secured inside, and a few loose palm-branches had fallen into the street, which I drove over. I stopped in front of his house, then ran up to the front door and knocked.

  I hadn’t expected this, but the door opened, and a woman appeared. I recognized her as his wife.

  “Yes? How can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Mr. Jenkins,” I said. “Is he here?”

  She shook her head. Their daughter came up to her and looked at me shyly. “There’s a storm coming,” she said, sounding troubled.

  “He should be back soon, though,” Mrs. Jenkins said and looked at her watch. “It won’t be long.”

  “Are you staying for the storm?” I asked.

  She shook her head. Her daughter clung to her leg. I remembered being a child in Florida and facing evacuation and storms. It became easier once you had been through a few of them, but it was always scary. The worst part was when your parents told you to choose between your stuffed animals since you could only take your favorites. The thought of coming back and all your toys and the house being gone was scary as heck. The uncertainty was the worst, and then the waiting, for days often, before it was over.

  “We’re about to leave now, actually,” she said. “Just packing up the last things. My husband said he’d take the other car and join us there later. He went to board up our summer cabin on the beach. We just bought it some six months ago and were going to use it mostly as a rental for extra income. But it is right across from the beach and will get hit hard. I’m just praying it won’t be too expensive to fix it up afterward. Bruce has spent so many hours out there getting it ready, and now this happens. Why did you need to talk to him again? Was it important? I can try and get him on the phone. I think they still work.”

  “They do,” I said, and raised my hand to stop her. I couldn’t have her alert him that I was looking for him. That wouldn’t end well. “But that won’t be necessary. I’ll just talk to him later. Maybe after the storm. Stay safe.”

  “You too,” she said with a concerned look on her face. “I hope we have a home to come back to after this.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be okay,” I said, trying to sound reassuring for the child. This storm was big, and there was no telling what might happen to these houses. I feared for my grandmother’s house most of all. It was old and in a low-lying area that would flood quickly.

  I said goodbye to the two of them and wondered what their lives would be like if it turned out that Mr. Jenkins was the Leech, how much it was going to change that poor girl’s life once she found out the truth. I knew a little about it from experience, but I had been an adult when I found out about my stepfather. She was a child, no more than five or maybe six years old.

  The thought broke my heart.

  I ran back across the driveway and got into my car, getting soaked on the way. A branch from a palm tree was ripped loose by the wind very close to me and flew through the air, landing on the front of my car with a loud bang. After the shock had dissipated and I could breathe again, I left it there to fall off as I accelerated down the street, driving toward the beach and the Jenkins’ cabin.

  Chapter Ninety-Four

  The waves were slamming the sand and splashing over the dunes as I reached the beach. The small street between the houses and the dunes was already flooded in places, and it forced me to drive very slowly while my windshield wipers ran amok in front of my eyes, struggling to keep the water off. The pounding rain on the roof was maddeningly loud, and the wind gusts pulled at the car forcefully, making it hard to steer properly.

  I parked in front of the Jenkins’ summer cabin where I had seen him go on the night before he drove to the theater. I suspected this was where he kept Melanie and the armoire that he took down there and placed on the stage.

  It could also very well be the same place he was keeping Adam.

  I parked as close to the entrance as I could, then got out and ran as fast as possible toward the front door. I knocked, hard, then waited while the wind blew rain in my face and it was hard to stand still.

  Nothing happened.

  Realizing he probably wasn’t going to open the door for me, I grabbed the handle but found the door locked. I snuck around the house, fighting the water and the winds, then found an old door in the back under the stairs that wasn’t locked. I walked inside and closed it behind me, then shook off some of the water. I walked to a set of stairs and snuck up. I found myself in a kitchen that was very clearly still undergoing some serious renovation. Some parts were brand-new, while others, like counters and some of the cabinets, were missing.

  I grabbed my gun from my ankle holster and held it up in front of me as I walked upstairs to what had to be the bedrooms. The windows had been boarded up already, and the house seemed ready for a storm. I continued up the stairs when I heard a sound and stopped. Holding my breath, I continued running up a few steps more, then walked into what was going to become a media room, furnished with a sofa, a big TV, and a futon. I walked to the first bedroom, pushed the door open, and looked inside, holding the gun out in front of me.

  Clear.

  I walked to the next, opened the door, and looked inside, just as something lunged at me. I shrieked and held my hand up to cover my face. Whatever it was, it landed on the floor next to me, then hurried out the door, and I realized it was a raccoon that had probably sought shelter from the storm inside
the house.

  Heart pounding in my chest, I returned to the hallway, then opened the door to the last bedroom and peeked inside.

  It was empty too.

  “Adam?” I called out, thinking if he was being hidden in a locked closet or somewhere, then maybe he would answer.

  But no sound came.

  I then ran down to the garage to see if Mr. Jenkins’ car was there, but I found it empty as well. There were tire tracks, though, on the cement, and they were still wet. I realized he had already been here and left again, and probably taken Adam with him.

  I was too late.

  Chapter Ninety-Five

  The drive back to my grandmother’s house was terrifying, to put it mildly. The winds had picked up, and trees were falling next to me. Wooden parts from broken fences were flying around, and the water had begun to rise. Most of the roads were flooded, and my minivan was struggling to get through. Twice, I had to take a detour because I needed to travel a road that was impassable because of high waters. The pouring rain on my windshield made it hard to see ahead of me, and with the high waters, it was difficult to see what was the road and what wasn’t. I drove into a ditch at one point and got stuck for a few minutes before my minivan managed to drag itself back up on the road.

  I wasn’t panicking yet, but it was close.

  After a fifteen-minute drive that took more than an hour, I finally managed to get back to my grandmother’s street. The driveway was flooded all the way up to the first step leading to the front porch.

  I parked on the neighbor’s front lawn and ran the last bit of the way, or rather dragged myself through the knee-high water, then finally reached the porch and made it to shelter.

  “Moom!”

  The sight that met me inside was maybe even more terrifying than what I had expected.