by Willow Rose
“No…Vernon said. “No. Don’t go. Noah…Noah…stay with us, please, don’t…”
“Dad, he’s dying.” Austin spoke with a trembling voice.
“Almost there,” I said, and turned the car into the hospital’s parking lot.
“He’s not breathing,” Vernon said.
I raced towards the Emergency entrance and pressed the horn down. I knew the doctors and nurses would be there to keep the hospital open and sleep there for days if they had to, as a part of their hurricane preparedness training. I pressed the horn and didn’t let go until I saw movement. Two nurses came running to the car as I drove up to the door. I sprang out.
I opened the door to the back and Vernon handed me the lifeless body of Noah Kinley. My heart was pounding so fast in my chest. I put him on the stretcher, and the nurses ran inside with him between them. I watched, panting, my shoulder shooting pain through my body, my stomach turning in anxiety.
Will he make it? Were we too late?
All I had was my hope.
Chapter Eighty-One
May 2015
“He was my brother.”
Vernon Johnson looked at me from across the room. We had been sitting in the waiting room for half an hour after I had gotten my shoulder checked and my arm put in a sling. Austin was sitting next to me and had fallen asleep in my lap. Vernon had bought coffee from the machine for the both of us. The hospital personnel had told us we were allowed to wait out the storm. They had no idea how long it would last, so they had to ration all their supplies, and that meant food and coffee as well. It was only for the patients. We decided we could live off what we could get from the vending machines.
I sipped my coffee and looked at him. “Hector Suarez was your brother?”
Vernon nodded. “Half brother. We shared the same father. Hector isn’t his real name—or wasn’t. He was born Alejándro Martínez back in Cuba.”
“So, he changed his name when he moved to the States?” I asked. “Just like you and your mother?”
“He must have. I didn’t even know he was here. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even know he existed. My mother told me about him yesterday. She told me I had seen him when I was just a kid, that he had lived with us when I was younger, but I don’t remember. I was too young. My mother told me Alejándro had a troubled upbringing. His mother couldn’t care for him properly. Our father didn’t want him…thought he was worthless. Nevertheless, he came to live with us for a time. Stayed for a year, but my mother once discovered him inside of my bedroom in the middle of the night with a pillow in his hand, and after that, they decided they couldn’t keep him. He grew up at his grandmother’s house and was beaten regularly by his grandfather. Got himself in a lot of trouble constantly. He came to Florida during the boatlift in 1980, according to my mother. Just like my mother and I did. I don’t know how much you know about it, but back then, Castro decided to open the harbor of Mariel to let people leave if they had someone come and pick them up.”
“I heard about that,” I said, thinking about my time working in Miami. I remembered the stories told by my colleagues about how Miami changed around that time.
“About 125,000 refugees came to South Florida,” I said. “It changed everything. The labor market, the housing market, the crime.”
“Exactly,” Vernon said pensively. “During this exodus, Castro decided to also open his jails, flooding Miami’s streets with criminals, drug addicts, and mentally unhinged people, which contributed to Miami’s skyrocketing crime rate and helped it become murder capital of the world just one year later. My brother was one of them.”
“He was one of the criminals?” I asked.
Vernon nodded. “He was in prison. So was my father. I was fifteen when they took him. My mother told me they were arrested at the same time. She never told me this before yesterday. She kept everything about my brother a secret from me. My brother was only seventeen when he was put in one of Castro’s prisons.”
“But was released at the boatlift and sent to Florida. What about your father? Wasn’t he released?” I asked.
Vernon shook his head. “He never made it. According to my mother, Alejándro came to her one day when I wasn't home a few years after we had moved to Florida. I had a good life here. But Alejándro never had any of that. He was angry when he came to see her at her apartment. He beat her badly and told her it was all her fault. It was her fault he had those scars on his body now, it was her fault her husband was gone.”
“He died in prison?” I asked.
Vernon sighed. “Yes. He died inside a drawer cell. You ever heard of those? I looked them up. It’s these small boxes they put the prisoners inside of and leave them without water or food for a very long time. They sometimes open the box and throw excrement at the prisoners, or ice-cold water, or they bang on the boxes, making it impossible for the prisoner to sleep. They also put them in small rooms with fluorescent lights for days, so they can’t see and can’t sleep. My dad died inside one of those boxes. And Alejándro listened to him call for water all night, his voice becoming smaller and smaller, until it was nothing but a hissing sound. Then, Alejándro started to call and yell for help, but no one ever came. When they realized my dad was dead, they took out Alejándro and beat him senseless, then they urinated on him and threw him inside the box instead. He spent seven years in that box. Until Castro decided to get rid of him.”
I looked at Vernon and had forgotten all about my coffee. It all made sense all of a sudden. The crouched bodies, the starvation, and the bright light we found in the room where Noah was being kept. “So, Alejándro was doing the same thing to these boys as had happened to himself and to your father?”
Vernon nodded. “Yes. He kept them for years until they died of starvation.”
I returned to my coffee and sipped it. It all made sense all of a sudden. Hector had told me he used to be a carpenter. My guess was, he had been working for that roofing company in Rockledge back when Jordan Turner was abducted on his way home from school. Before Hector opened the surf-shop. I wondered where he had kept the kids before he opened the shop? At his home? Maybe we would never know. At the roofing company, he had access to all kinds of wood. Even the very rare birch sort that was very durable and could sustain someone banging on it for hours, weeks and days. My skin shivered at the thought.
Austin mumbled in his sleep. I kept thinking about Noah Kinley. My stomach hurt with anxiety.
Please, let him live, God. He’s been through enough. His poor parents have gone through so much. Let them have their boy back.
Vernon leaned back in his chair. He rubbed his forehead with a sigh.
“Wait, you were so young back then. Did he do it to get back at you?” I asked. “To punish you for having the life he always wanted with the dad he had longed for all his life?”
“Close,” Vernon said. “He did envy me all those things. He did resent me for having all he ever wanted, especially our father’s love. But there’s more.” Vernon emptied his coffee and cracked the cup between his hands. Then he looked at me. “It was all my fault,” he said.
“What was your fault?”
Tears sprang from Vernon’s eyes now. He wiped them off with a sniffle and tried hard to hide them from me. “That they ended up in prison. That they had to endure all that. That my dad died. Everything. It was all because of me.”
“How so?”
“I spoke up against the regime,” he said. “I was just a young kid, but that didn’t matter. I assaulted an officer at my grandmother’s house when they came to take her farm. She was an old lady and the farm was her entire life. I tried to tell them they had no right, that Castro was a coward for picking on old ladies. My father was in town spending time with Alejándro for the first time in years when the police came to pick him up at a public park. They told him it was his upbringing of me that had given me those ideas, that he was leading a conspiracy against Castro. He was what they called an anti-socialist element. In a way, they were right
. My dad was a famous poet and had spoken up against the regime on several occasions. When they came to pick him up, my brother went nuts and started to fight them. So they took him as well. They decided they both were a threat to society and kept them without even a trial. My mother never even got to visit my father. She never knew what happened to him until Alejándro came to her that afternoon when I was in school. He showed her the ring, my dad’s ring. That was all he had left of him. When you showed it to me, I couldn’t believe my own eyes. But now I know. Alejándro must have dropped it when he took Scott. He still had it when he beat up my mother and left her bleeding on the floor.” Vernon shook his head with a sigh. “I found her when I came home. She decided to keep the story a secret from me. She told me it was a robbery. I always believed that was what happened. Up until yesterday when my mom told me everything. Told me how my brother blamed me for everything bad that had ever happened to him. Everything, Detective. She also told me where to find him. She knew he had that surf shop in Cocoa Beach. She had seen his picture in Florida Today, the local section in the paper when he opened up the shop ten years ago. But it had been under another name. Hector Suarez. So she knew where to find him when I confronted her. When I came to him, and asked him about the boys, he told me he had done it because he wanted me to be punished. When he was released from the Cuban prison and sent to the States by boat, he was determined to find me. He was so eaten by anger over what had happened to my dad. So when he finally found me here in Florida, he wanted me to suffer in the same way he had. He kidnapped a kid and made sure I was blamed for it. He tipped off the police anonymously, and when they had a witness that identified me in a line-up and said I looked like the guy he had seen with Scott Kingston, then the case was clear to them.”
“Except, it wasn’t you. It was him. But back then, you looked so much alike,” I said.
Vernon snapped his fingers. “Twenty-eight years of my life. Gone. Just like that. All because of one little childish mistake.”
“And once your brother started torturing the kids, he couldn’t stop, so once Scott was dead, he kidnapped another one, Jordan Turner, and held him captive in the back of his store for years. Till he died several years later.”
“When he heard I was out, he kidnapped Noah Kinley, because he wanted me back inside. I didn’t deserve the release, he told me right before I shot him. He wanted me to spend the rest of my life in jail. He knew the police would immediately suspect me.”
“And he was right,” I said. “We all suspected you right away.”
“I shot him because I wanted him off the face of the planet. He told me you would never believe me over him. I had to get rid of him. Even if it meant I would go back to jail.”
The door opened to the waiting room and a doctor entered. I stared at him, my heart beating so fast it almost hurt.
“He’s stable now. Gave us quite a scare,” he said. “His heart had stopped beating, so we had to revive him. Took a while before he was stabilized. I wasn’t sure he would make it. He is severely dehydrated and malnourished, but I am positive he will be better soon with the right care. You brought him to us just in time. A few more minutes, and it would have been too late. You saved his life, Detective.”
Epilogue
I AIN’T GOT JACK—AND I WANT MY JACK BACK
Chapter Eighty-Two
May 2015
Shannon was waiting by the front door. She kept gazing out the window to see if she could spot the car down the road. But still, there was nothing. It had been four days since she left Florida with Jack’s family and her own daughter, and she had missed him like crazy. He had called her from the hospital to let her know he was all right and that he would ride out the storm at the hospital with Vernon Johnson and Austin. He also told her how he had found Noah Kinley and that the case was closed.
Now he was on his way to her house in Nashville. He had texted her and told her he had landed at the airport an hour ago, and she had send one of her drivers to pick him up. She looked at the clock on the wall, then back at the road outside.
The gate slowly opened, and she spotted the black car as it drove up.
“They’re coming!” she yelled into the living room.
There were shrieks and screams, as Angela and Abigail ran out the front door. Jack’s parents followed, and Shannon grabbed Emily and walked arm in arm with her outside the house. She looked at the young girl, who had been more worried about her father being alone in the storm than she would care to admit. She had been eating better over the four days she had spent at the house. Jack’s mother had spoken with her, and that had seemed to help. Shannon had kept an eye on her, and she seemed to be doing better, even though she was still very skinny.
“Hi, guys!”
Jack looked radiant as he stepped out of the car. Maybe it was just because she had missed him so much. His right arm was still hurting, he had told her, but they had taken off the sling, so you could hardly tell.
She let the children get to him first. Abigail jumped into her father’s arms and then continued to her brother.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” she said. “I was so scared.”
The twins hugged, while Jack was greeted by his parents in a warm embrace. When they let him go, Angela hugged his legs before she too continued to Austin, whom she had taken a serious liking to. Shannon had suspected them of having a little crush on one another. It was too cute.
“Hi there, sweetheart,” Jack said and approached Shannon. She kissed him intensely, even though everyone was looking. He touched her stomach lightly, then turned to look at Emily. She looked a little shy. Jack smiled and opened his arms.
“How’s my girl?”
“Fine, Dad.”
He grabbed her and hugged her warmly. Shannon felt all mushy and her eyes got wet. It was silly how this pregnancy messed with her emotions.
“Let’s go inside,” she yelled and clapped her hands. “Lunch is served at the deck outside.”
“Outside?” Jack asked. “But it’s so cold here.”
She hit him gently on the shoulder. The good one. He grabbed her around the waist and held her tight. “How’s my baby doing?”
“I’m good. I stopped throwing up, finally.”
“I was talking to the other one,” he said with a grin.”
“Jack,” Shannon said.
They started to walk inside. Jack whistled when he saw the house. It was a little much. Shannon had always thought it was, but Joe couldn’t get it big or pompous enough. She couldn’t wait to sell it and move on.
“So, how did it go with Noah’s parents?” she asked, as the door closed behind them.
“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it. It was so great. As soon as the storm stopped, they were flown in from Orlando on a helicopter. The reunion with their son was heartwarming. It felt so good, you know, to be able to save at least one of those boys. It makes it all worth the effort. It is in moments like that that I really love my work.”
“And it is a big part of you, Jack. I do realize that,” Shannon said.
For a long time, she had tried to convince him to give up his job and just live off her money, but she was beginning to understand more and more how big a part of him his job really was. Even though she hated that he had to risk his life constantly for others. It was also very admirable and very sexy.
“I still can’t believe the guy kept Noah Kinley right across the street from us all this time,” she said.
Jack looked serious. “It makes me sick to think of. Noah Kinley was right there, in that shop, in the back, without any of us suspecting anything at all. I mean, all the times I have been in his shop and…I keep thinking, why didn’t I hear him? Why didn’t I hear him scream? But all the rooms were soundproofed. He built his own little torture chambers back there in the rooms we thought he used for shaping boards.”
Shannon felt a chill and shivered. “It’s creepy.”
“And I even thought he was a nice guy. I surfed with him!”
Shannon nodded, thinking it showed how little you really knew about the people around you.
“And, Vernon?” she asked.
“I talked to Jacqueline Jones, and we agreed he was the real hero who saved the boy. There won’t be charges pressed, even though he shot Hector Suarez. The only sad thing is, now I’ll never get my new board,” he said with a laugh.
“You’ll live,” Shannon said.
“You said you had a surprise for me?” he asked and kissed her again.
“Yes, follow me.”
Shannon walked to the library and asked Jack to sit down in a leather chair, then placed a box on his lap.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Open it.”
He opened the lid. Then he looked up at Shannon with a gasp. “Is this what I think it is?”
She nodded. “Yes. He kept it in the safe at the house for all these years. Probably thought he could use it against me if I ever decided to leave him, the bastard.”
Jack scoffed. He looked at the gun in the wooden box. “I can’t believe it. It has been here all this time. Right under your nose.”
“I know. I haven’t touched it. I’m turning it in tomorrow, and hopefully they’ll drop the charges.”
“Let’s hope that happens,” Jack said, and handed her the box back. “Now, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”
Shannon grabbed his hand and pulled him back. The rest of the family was already engaged in a lively discussion outside; they could hear all their voices talking over each other. It always thrilled Shannon how well their two families did together. She couldn’t wait for them to all live in their dream house in Cocoa Beach. She longed for her new life to begin. Especially now, when the future looked a littler brighter for her.
“I have one more surprise,” she said and kissed him gently.
“There’s more? I hope it’s as good as the first one,” Jack said.
