The House That Jack Built

by Willow Rose

  I shrugged. “I’ve never used it myself, but I’ve heard about it, yes. Emily uses it with her friends.”

  “Well, basically, it’s an app where you send a photo or a video or a text message to someone and users set a time limit for how long recipients can view their Snaps. The time limit ranges from one to ten seconds.”

  “And afterwards, it’s deleted; I know that much,” I said.

  “Yes, that’s how it works. When the ten seconds are up, the pictures are hidden from the recipient's device and deleted from Snapchat's servers.”

  “Why am I sensing there is a but in here?”

  “‘Cause there is,” Richard said with a smile. “Most people think it’s perfectly safe to send their boyfriend a Snapchat of themselves naked because no one else will ever see it and it will be deleted immediately afterwards. But, that is not entirely the case. Snapchat's own documentation states that the company's servers retain a log of the last 200 "snaps" that were sent and received, but no actual content is stored. The documentation further explains that if the file is not viewed by the recipient, it remains on Snapchat's servers for 30 days. Furthermore, a forensics firm in Utah discovered a way to find the so-called deleted pics, and created a way to download them from the 'hidden' location a few years back. Apparently, there's a folder on the device, where all the photos are stored. The team then developed a process of extracting the image data. It takes about six hours, on average, to get the information. Look what I found. This was received in Sarah Millman’s Snapchat two days ago.”

  I stared at his screen. Then a smile spread across my face. In front of me stared Sarah’s two sisters back at me. The picture was a selfie taken in front of the house in Daytona where the couple was shot later that same day. The sisters were smiling. The caption read: SHOWTIME!

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I exclaimed.

  “I know. They all make mistakes at some point, right?” Richard said. “I have only seen a little bit, but this is definitely what they have been using to communicate with one another. I’m talking dates, names, everything. It tells us everything they’ve been up to. I even found a text telling Sarah that they have Stanley Bradley, then a photo, followed by the sisters with his lifeless body in the crashed car before they pulled him out. This is good stuff.” Richard opened another picture. “This was taken three days ago.”

  I looked at the photo and smiled even wider. The picture showed them in front of a resort in Daytona Beach. The caption read:

  THE ANGEL MAKERS JUST CHECKING IN

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  May 2015

  We drove to Daytona just before sunset. Volusia County Sheriff, Ned Farinella, met us outside the Hotel Tropical Winds. Ron was with me, since Beth was too emotionally involved in this case, and I was afraid of her reaction when facing these women that were responsible for her severe disfigurement.

  The sun was setting beautifully into a thick layer of clouds over the mainland, coloring the dark clouds over the Atlantic with its last breath before it disappeared. I stared at the darkness on the horizon, wondering if the storm would make landfall or just come close enough to give us the swell I was longing for. Waves had been picking up all day because of the strong winds. The low-pressure had turned into a regular storm-system now, but it seemed to have stalled. It was still very visible, even this far north of Cocoa Beach. It was a big storm. It now had a sixty percent chance of turning into a hurricane, according to the meteorologists. I just hoped it would stay off the coast. It had been many years since we last had a storm make landfall. Last time it happened, the roof was blown off my parents’ motel. This winter had been rough on them financially. They couldn’t afford for it to happen again.

  “I got all my people here,” Ned Farinella said, as we shook hands.

  I looked at the many cars parked in the parking lot of the hotel. I just hoped the Monahan sisters hadn’t looked out the window of the hotel.

  “I spoke to the owner,” Ned Farinella said, as we walked up to the front. “They say the sisters are in room 333. They checked in as Amy and Michelle Childs. Told the receptionist they were sisters travelling together. The receptionist recognized them from the picture we sent them. According to the receptionist, they’re in their room right now. They came back this afternoon and she hasn’t seen them leave.”

  I felt the handle of my gun while my heart rate went up. We entered the lobby of the hotel and Ned talked shortly with the receptionist before we found the elevator and got in.

  “Still there?” I asked.

  Ned nodded. “As far as she knows, they’re still in the room, yes.”

  “Good.”

  I felt the heavy gun between my hands and tried hard to calm my nerves. I hated this stuff; so much could go wrong, and more often than not, someone ended up getting killed. But, at the same time, I was eager to get these women. I wanted them to pay for what they had done to Beth, but I didn’t want anyone to die. I wanted them to face justice.

  We walked up to the door of the hotel room and I knocked, holding my gun in front of me. “Angelina Monahan? Kelly White?” I yelled, not knowing if the last sister went by her married name or her maiden name since her divorce.

  There was no answer, nothing but a loud noise that told me that something was going on behind that door.

  “They’re trying to escape,” Ron yelled.

  I kicked the door in, and within seconds, we were both inside the hotel room. My eyes moved slowly across the room, scanning it for any sign of movement. Suddenly, there was something near the balcony. The curtain was blowing. The sliding glass door was open; someone ran through it. It was a woman.

  “Stop! Police!” I yelled, then stormed after her. I caught up with her on the balcony, just before she was about to climb the rail and climb down. Her sister was already hanging underneath the balcony and now managed to land on the balcony below, from where she could jump to a grass area next to the building. I threw my arm around the woman’s waist and grabbed her. The woman screamed and yelled and tried to fight me off, but I fell backwards with her on top of me.

  “The other one is getting away!” Ron yelled.

  I spotted her running across the grass, just as the woman on top of me managed to push her elbow into my face so hard I saw nothing but stars for a few seconds, just long enough for her to get out of my grip. She jumped for the rail again and I held up my gun.

  “Stop, or I’ll shoot,” I said.

  She froze in the middle of her movement, then turned and looked at me. I recognized her as Angelina Monahan.

  “You won’t get far. Neither will your sister,” I continued. “There are police everywhere down there. It’s over, Angelina.”

  Angelina looked into my eyes, then a smile spread on her face. She shook her head slowly with a scoff.

  “It’ll never be over, Detective. Don’t you realize that by now?”

  She turned around with the intention of jumping. Beneath us was pavement. She risked getting killed if she jumped directly down from the third floor without landing on the balcony below first, like her sister had. Either she’d kill herself or she would end up getting away. Neither worked for me. My breathing was getting harder by the second. I felt steadier than ever. Then I pulled the trigger.

  Angelina Monahan screamed as the bullet hit her shoulder. It was intentional. I didn’t want to kill her, only hinder her escape. Stunned, she turned and looked at me while placing a hand to her shoulder, just as she lost her grip on the railing and fell backwards.

  “No!” I yelled and got up to grab her, but my hand just missed hers as she fell into the air. Seconds later, she hit the pavement below, headfirst.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  May 2015

  I didn’t get back to Cocoa Beach until way past midnight. Angelina Monahan was dead. Her sister Kelly was still on the loose. I was so angry with myself and had a feeling everyone else was going to be too. Especially Emily. She had a spring concert at the school, and for the first
time she had told me to come. I had been so excited, since she never wanted me to come to these things, and I had never heard her sing.

  My mom was waiting for me on the deck of the hotel. They had closed the bar long ago, but she was still sitting outside with a book and a glass of water. Just like she had when I was young and went out at night. I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Hey, Ma,” I said and sat next to her on the wooden bench.

  She put the book down with a sigh. “You missed it,” she said.

  I closed my eyes. “I know. I feel so bad.”

  “You should have seen her face when she received your text, telling her you weren’t coming, right before she was supposed to go on. I could have killed you right then for doing this to her. She had looked forward to this, you know. It took a lot of courage for her to ask us to come. Especially you. She wanted to impress you.”

  I inhaled deeply, feeling the guilt eating me up. No one could make me feel like an awful dad like my mother.

  “I know,” I said. “You don’t have to tell me I screwed up.”

  “I get that your work is important. Believe me, I was married to someone a lot like you once. Until he finally retired and started to live his life with me and not constantly making excuses for not being there. You have to decide how long you think this will work for you and your family. Not all cops have three children to take care of alone, you know.”

  I looked at my mother and nodded. She was right. I had a huge responsibility on my shoulders. On top of it, I now had a chance to change things radically. Being with Shannon and moving in with her gave me a new opportunity I had never had before. Shannon had told me she wouldn’t mind if I didn’t work. She could support all of us. It was a huge advantage for me. But I had no idea if that was what I wanted. I loved my job. But I didn’t love what it did to my family. I didn’t love missing out on nights like this one, where my teenage daughter tried to impress me.

  “No one would blame you for choosing your family,” my mother said. “The kids, on the other hand, will blame you for the rest of their lives if you miss out on their childhood. One of my dear friends works at a hospice in Orlando and she tells me the thing people there regret the most is not that they didn’t work more; what they regret is not spending enough time with their loved ones. Think about it. You have a real chance of starting over and creating a whole new family. Not everyone gets a second chance like that.”

  I nodded and leaned back against the wall. I kept trying to avoid having to make a decision. I knew if I quit my job at the force, I could never come back to the same position again. Reaching homicide had taken many years for me. If things didn’t work out for some reason between me and Shannon and I had to go back to work, I would never get back into homicide easily again. It was a big chance to take. What if I missed it too much?

  We sat in silence for a few minutes while I let my mother’s words linger on my mind. She had a way of always being right. It was annoying.

  “Are the kids here or at the condo?” I asked as I got up.

  “Emily and Shannon took them home after the concert. I think they all decided to sleep at your place.”

  “I better get back there, then, and get some sleep,” I said and leaned over and kissed my mother.

  I started walking back to the car when my mother turned her head and said, “She was amazing, by the way.”

  I smiled and nodded. “I had a feeling she would be.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  May 2015

  Being outside the walls certainly wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, Vernon soon realized. He had no idea what to do with himself. At least while on the inside, they had told him what to do, every day. He had no choice but to do what they told him to. Now, all of a sudden, he had all these choices. He was a free man and could do anything he wanted to.

  Nothing frightened him more.

  What did people do with themselves all day? Worked? Vernon never had an education. He had tried taking some college courses while on the inside, but never managed to finish them. He had nothing to offer a workplace. Besides, they had given him enough money so he didn’t have to work. But, what else was there to do?

  He went to the local Wal-Mart a couple of times a week, and to him that was more than enough. Being around people scared him, to be frank. He had no idea what they expected of him or if they knew who he was and feared him. He didn’t feel like they even belonged to the same race or era. It was like he was still living in the eighties, where everything was much slower and people actually looked at each other and not into their small screens constantly. It was like the world had stopped communicating.

  Vernon liked to take a walk every day. He would go to the park and walk or take the bus to the beach and take a long stroll with his feet in the water. Somehow, the ocean made him calm. It was the one thing that hadn’t changed one bit since he went in. He loved the calmness of the ocean. And there was one thing more he loved about the beach, especially Cocoa Beach. He loved the fact that Sherri lived down there. His one and only. The one he had been dreaming of every night while waiting on the inside, waiting for them to finally figure out that they had made a mistake.

  Vernon knew she was married, but he just couldn’t stay away from her. Now he was standing outside her motel and waiting for her. He had taken the bus there and been there twenty minutes earlier than they had agreed, just to make sure he wouldn’t be late. He felt nervous. He was so excited to see her again. Today, she had promised to take him to see Kennedy Space Center. He had dreamt of seeing it for so many years, and she had told him she would take him. For old time’s sake, she had said. She felt like she owed him that much.

  Vernon didn’t know how she felt about him, but to him, she was the only bright thing about being outside again. She was the only one he knew and the only one, except for his mother, who still cared for him after so many years. She had always known he was innocent, she had told him. And it was her great sadness that she had been unable to prove it to the police. She was married to an officer, and now her son was a detective too.

  Vernon smiled as his eyes met hers. She was still beautiful, even after so many years, he thought.

  “Are you ready?” she asked.

  Vernon took his cap between his hands. “You look beautiful,” he said.

  Sherri blushed. “Vernon,” she said with a slight reproach in her voice. “I’m a married woman.”

  Vernon smiled and bowed his head. “I know, Miss Sherri. I know.”

  “Now, get in,” Sherri said and opened the door to her car.

  Vernon nodded and got in. Sherri started the car. Vernon was impressed by how quiet the engine was. A lot had happened to cars. This one even had a back-up camera that made an awful lot of noise when Sherri backed out of the parking lot.

  Just as she was about to drive into the street, a police car from the Sheriff’s Department drove up and stopped her. A deputy got out and walked up to the car. Sherri rolled the window down.

  “What’s going on, Officer?” she asked.

  He lifted his cap. “I’m sorry Mrs. Ryder, but I need to talk to Mr. Johnson.”

  Part Two

  IT WAS THE DREAM OF AN UPRIGHT MAN

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Cuba, April 1st, 1980

  Isabella Suarez was wearing her Sunday best. She knew everything had been carefully planned by her grandfather and her uncle Amador, the only one still left in Cuba. The rest of them had all fled to the U.S., going through Costa Rica or even Spain. But it was getting harder to get out, her grandfather had told her. And they had to try now to get the rest of the family out before everything closed up completely. Being only sixteen years old, Isabella didn’t understand much of what was going on, other than what she heard her uncle and grandparents discuss with low voices at the dinner table. But she did know one thing. She desperately wanted to go to her father, who had left her eleven years ago. She had received one letter from him during the many years and knew he was with his
brothers in the U.S. She had put his address in the pocket of her dress on this night when her grandfather grabbed her hand and took her suitcase. He put it in the back of their old truck. Isabella grabbed her grandmother’s hand and they exchanged one anxious glance before getting in the car.

  They drove to downtown Havana, then left the car and got on a bus. The bus driver was a friend of Amador’s, and Isabella remembered having seen him at the house several times in the past weeks while they were carefully planning this.

  After driving around downtown for a few minutes, the bus driver stopped the bus several blocks from Embassy Row in downtown Havana.

  Isabella held on to her grandmother’s hand and looked into her eyes. She could tell she was worried. The woman had been the closest Isabella had to having a mother. Isabella knew when she felt anxious. She knew her every movement and recognized any unusual behavior, just like any child did with their mother.

  “It’ll be fine,” Isabella whispered, and held her grandmother’s hand tightly in hers. The old woman tried to smile.

  “The bus is broken down. Everyone needs to leave the bus immediately,” the bus driver said, addressed to the rest of the people on the bus.

  It wasn’t an unusual event. The old buses driving downtown broke down constantly. So, no one thought of it as being strange or even complained about it. The other passengers left the bus, and as soon as they were gone, the driver closed the doors and looked at Isabella, her grandparents, and Amador.

  “You ready?”

  Isabella swallowed hard and bit her lip. Her grandparents and Amador all nodded. Isabella hesitated. She wasn’t sure what it was she was agreeing to. But she was sure she wanted out of here.

  Then she nodded too. The driver smiled. She detected a slight nervousness in his smile. He was trying to hide it.