I held my hands up. "No wait, I do. I want you to write the story that way people won't forget about Rodney's disappearance. He deserves better and I appreciate you wanting to help out. I apologize, I'm just on edge right now. I feel like I've failed," I said in a low voice. Tears started welling up in my eyes.
Lance came over to me and offered me a friendly hug which I kindly took. It felt weird and good at the same time. He took a step back.
"Well, I guess I'd better go then. I have all the details I need. Promise you'll call me if you get any updates? he asked.
I stood up from my chair. "Oh yes, I sure will. Thanks for everything. I am about to get some rest for about ten minutes then I'll be right back at it in the early morning."
He gave me a half-smile. "That sounds good. Yes, you should get some rest even if it's for an hour," he said agreeing with me.
Just as Lance was adjusting his coat and I was about to walk him out the door, my phone rang. Rushing over to it, I picked it up and saw that it was Mom.
"Hey Nina Belle, any news? Anything? Word from James?" Mom asked, rattling off several questions without giving me a chance to blink.
"Well, not quite Mom. I'm not giving up though obviously," I started.
I gave her the short version of the days' events, finally telling her that Lance was still here.
"Yeah he kind of saved me from those TMZ-like reporters," I said, chuckling. I glanced over at him while he busied himself on his phone. He looked up at me, giving me a thumbs up and went back to his phone.
"Wow, wait, you know him? she asked, her voice going to a whisper.
"Yes. Well I mean, no. I don't. But I'm sure he will be a great help. Since those reporters lied on me, giving the public a different story, Lance offered to write the truth."
My mother took a swig of whatever she was drinking. I could hear the ice clinking in her glass. Probably bourbon, her favorite drink.
"Mmm-hmm. He must be good looking for you to open your door and agree for him to do something for you. Am I right?" she pestered.
I tried to laugh it off. "Mom, so when are you coming here? The snow let up out here but might start again at midnight."
"Oh, I don't know Nina. The news reports are saying there aren't any flights after all. I have to wait it out. I might go to the airport and just wait for one to come available. By the way, have you hear from James?" Mom asked.
"Yes, I did. He was in a meeting a few hours ago. He's having the same issue. The weather. I'm sure he'll try to make it out here in the morning," I explained. I took another look over at Lance who was waiting patiently, sitting in the armchair in the living room. That chair belonged to my grandfather and he was tall and built just like Lance. I went and sat on the sofa, listening to Mom.
"Okay good. That means he'll get there any way he can. Even if he has to fly to the city first then transfer. I know he's got to be worried sick," Mom said sadly.
"Yes he is, but he told me not to worry. I just want to figure this out and have a long talk with Rodney afterward," I said. I noticed out the corner of my eye, Lance was nodding, agreeing with me.
"Is there anything you can think of Nina? Why he would disappear like this?" Mom asked, her voice croaking a little.
I fessed up and told her about Rodney's drug use and how I caught him in the garage. I even told her about Bly catching him with beer and how he seemed to be basing this entire case off of that.
"That makes no sense Nina," Mom said angrily. She was probably frowning. "Well, I'd better let you go. So what's your next move to find my poor grandchild?" she asked, sounding hopeful.
"Although I should rest up, I plan to go with the search party, put out more flyers. Might even have my own people answering calls for tips. He has one friend he likes to hang out with named Davion. I am going to talk to him and his parents. Maybe he has some information. Other than that, I have no idea," I discussed.
"Good. You can only do but so much. Don't beat yourself up about this Nina. I'll talk to you soon. I love you." Mom said to me.
"I love you, too," I said, hanging up the phone.
Sighing, I spoke up first. "Well you can put that in the story," I said flatly.
Lance shook his head. "No. I won't pretend like I didn't hear what you said about Rodney, but that's a personal family matter. We just want to get your part out there, clear it up, get some of the public back on your side and possibly someone out there knows where Rodney is at."
"Thank you, Lance. I owe you one," I answered, giving him a slight smile.
He waved his hand. "No just make me some more scones one day." He put his hand on the doorknob and turned back to me. "I'll be in touch with your story for approval. Then I'll run it by my boss and that's it. We will circulate it in the papers, social media platforms and again, my personal one with the job. Not my personal private one," he added. He reached in his pockets and put his gloves on.
"Okay, in the meantime, I'm going out to his friend's house. I'll keep you posted with everything Lance."
Sounds good. And Nina? Try to take your mother's advice and not worry. Rodney will be found safely. I have confidence about this," Lance said proudly. He left out the door.
I watched him as he walked on the snow and got in his car.
As much as I didn't want to admit it, I wanted to get to know Lance better.
But first things were first. I needed to find Rodney before it was too late.
Chapter Twelve
Rodney woke up out of a dream, a small scream trapped in his throat. He felt all around him, hearing the chains clink against his thighs. Groaning, he sat up and leaned against the cool wall.
His stomach grumbled and he couldn't remember the last thing he ate. Looking over at the covered windows, he tried to tell if it were dark or light out, but that was hard to determine, too.
Sighing, he thought about his aunt Nina. She was very cool, down-to-earth, but he couldn't talk to her about certain things. It was nothing against her at all, he just didn't want her to tell his father. She was a cop after all. That day when she caught him smoking weed, she didn't say anything nor did she give him a lecture. She just shrugged it off and told him not to smoke it anymore since it would cause more problems if he were caught by someone else. He respected that about her. She didn't breathe like a dragon down his neck all the time as his father did.
Rodney thought about his father. Was he worried about him? Did he even know he was missing? Or was he at work in his military uniform, as usual, putting them first and him last? This is what broke up him and Mom. Rodney knew it deep down inside.
His mother was always cheating, but Rodney never said anything. He remembered when his father left for Afghanistan, how his mother dropped him off at the base where his flight would be leaving from. It was around two in the morning and Rodney, eight years old at the time, was in the back seat sleeping. He recalled his father opening up the back door to their car, rubbing his shoulder and telling him, "I'll see you soon sport." Rodney woke up dreamily and hugged his pudgy arms around his father's neck, not wanting to let him go. His father picked him up then put him back in the seat and closed the door. Staring out the window, he saw his father hug his mother, but she didn't hug him back. He tipped his hat, grabbed his seabag and walked off.
His mother got back in the car, picked up her cellphone and dialed a number. Rodney tried to hear who she was talking to, but she turned the radio up and drove off the base. A short time later, she picked up a guy from a neighborhood Rodney was not familiar with. It was run down with dilapidated homes and people standing on corners. It was a far cry from their Baltimore county suburb. Rodney pretended to be asleep when the guy, who had a blonde mohawk and motorcycle jacket on, got in the car and kissed his mother on the lips like he was her husband.
From that day on, Rodney hated his mother. He had no one to tell until his father came home. When he confronted his mother about it, she simply laughed it off and blamed what Rodney saw on his ADHD medicine.
&n
bsp; "You know, the one that makes him sleepy and more delusional all the time? He pretends to hear things and makes up stories at school, too. He's always rocking back and forth like he's just too anxious or something. I told you not to give it to him," she said nonchalantly and waltzed off to her room. She turned around and winked at Rodney and went upstairs.
Shaking his head, Rodney knew his mother was not concerned. He didn't care about that either. She was living her life and he needed to figure out how to save his.
Thinking back, he wished he wasn't so angry at his father. He never meant to lash out at him. It's just that he was always working and Rodney thought that was why his parents divorced. Every time he thought about his parents and the confusion they brought in the home before the breakup, he would turn to chat with girls online. They bored him, too, except for one.
Jessica Garcia.
Jessica was a sixteen-year-old Puerto Rican young lady living in Chelsea, Manhattan in the projects. She lived with her mother and two younger brothers. Her mother worked three jobs and was rarely home. Jessica had all the time in the world after school to talk with Rodney. Eventually, they decided to meet up in person.
Rodney had been to New York City, but with family only. Every time his father took him to Aunt Nina's, she was always got called to come in for work on some special case or something. This made his father and grandfather upset, but she would always return and take him to all the trendiest sites in the city and museums. She bought him his first guitar and skater Vans shoes. He appreciated that. But with Jessica, he could explore a different world. They hung out at the grittiest of places, sneaking into a few rave parties although they were both underage and she also didn't mind popping a pill or two to get high.
As much as Rodney loved his aunt, he did not like Oswego. It made him feel boxed in. That and he was away from Jessica too much. The last time he saw her was when he convinced Aunt Nina to let him go to a hackathon in Manhattan and she agreed. That's why he liked Nina so much. She didn't gawk over him like his father.
Although Rodney joined the hacker group for fun, all that changed once he met Jessica. He wanted to make enough money so he wouldn’t have to go back with his father or aunt. He eventually wanted to go run away to Manhattan where Jessica lived. He wanted to be with her but he didn't want to depend on her. That was why the money was necessary. He refused to go back to his father. He loved his father but he didn't like his strict ways. For one, he was not trying to join the military like his father or grandfather. College was out since he could probably hack their system. It would be too boring. He wanted to be cool and free like his uncle Matt. Sure, Matt was out there, but Rodney was smarter. He was going to be rich by the time he was eighteen, have his own startup and live free, too. He wanted to take Jessica out of the projects.
Scratching at his arm, Rodney started to become very agitated because he wants some weed and pills to calm himself down. He also needed to relieve himself but didn't see a bathroom. There was another door next to the table with the bucket near it, but when Rodney stood up to walk to the door, the chains wouldn't allow him to reach it. Great, he mumbled.
Rodney looked around the room and noticed it was so dim with the one light that Brennan left on but he could make out the big lump. He finally stood up to go walk over to the other side of the room, but again, the chains wouldn't reach. Sniffing the air again, he knew it was familiar, but this was strong. It smelled like something had died in there. Perhaps a rat? A possum? It was plausible considering the dank level of the house he was in. He scanned the room once more and flopped back down on the mattress in frustration, holding his hands to the sides of his head.
Folding his hands together, he tried to think back on what Numbers said. He thought Numbers was strange when he met him yes, but never this extreme. He wondered if Numbers was really going to kill him. The way Brennan choked him out he was sure one of them would.
"I have to get out of here," Rodney whispered to himself. He rubbed his eyes, trying to keep from crying. His stomach churned with fear this time and not hunger.
"Think, think, think," Rodney said. He started rocking back and forth as he used to when he was nervous. Like when his mother thought he was delusional and crazy. Rodney was none of those. Anxious yes, but crazy no.
"Well, maybe I was crazy for getting hooked up with Numbers," he said scoffing to himself. He thought how ironic it was that here he was a hacker who got scammed by more hackers. He shook his head, continuing his slow pace of rocking in place.
He looked around the room once more, carefully avoiding taking a look a the lump in the corner. Just as he was figuring out his plan to get out of there, he noticed a small crack from a window to his far left.
Chapter Thirteen
I drove around and thanked some volunteers who had taken on the search for Rodney over by the skate park and the wooded areas behind it. There were police searching by the borders of Lake Ontario that connected to Oswego. I helped them out for the next hour, nighttime approaching fast. The snowy trails didn't help much in the parks, but I used my lantern and headlight to help navigate through the dark.
Going back to my car to grab a sip of my coffee, I exhaled out loud. I realized that Rodney could be anywhere. After Lance left out, I had checked his tablet, laptop, and his room again, but found nothing. I combed the room, the garage, and his clothes pockets. Checked the drawers and closet but found nothing. I even checked his schoolbooks which were filled with notes from physics, chemistry, and computer science classes, but nothing indicating he was running away. I found a card from Jessica with her picture in it. She was a cute girl, but she should be focusing on her work and not boys. When I found Rodney I would be sure to tell him the same to focus on himself and not girls right now.
Getting out of the car, I saw Sheriff Bly drive past me with another cop, but he didn't see me. Or did he? He had to have known I was there. I trudged over to the other band of cops who were standing around talking.
"Hi, I'm so thankful to have you here on board to help find my nephew. Any updates? Anything?"
One of the cops, a medium-built guy with deep chocolate skin, shook his head.
"Hello, Detective. No, unfortunately, we haven't. So far we've found nothing. But I can assure you that someone knows something and we're hoping they'll come forward," he replied sincerely.
I shook my head, shocked that he called me "detective". "I see. Well I sure do appreciate all of your help coming out here when the weather is not the greatest to help find my nephew."
"It's a way of life out here so we're used to it," another cop chimed in.
"Ma'am, you look tired and cold. Why don't you go and warm up? We will be out here for another thirty minutes or so," the first cop answered. His nametag read Hodges.
"Okay sure. Here is my number again in case one of you find anything. I will come to your location whenever I get that news," I said, forcing a small smile. I shook each of their hands and turned around to go to my car.
About halfway there, I heard someone jogging behind me. It was Hodges.
"Detective, wait a sec," he said. He turned to look over his shoulder.
"Yes," I said, continuing to walk over to my car. I looked over at him the whole time he was talking.
"Sheriff Bly had to leave for another case but he said to tell you to not panic and that we would find your nephew. I know it's stressful, but try not to be," Hodges explained sincerely.
I tilted my head to the side and stared into Hodges' face for a few moments before talking.
"Officer Hodges thank you for your updates. I'm good though. I will continue to be involved with searching for my nephew. And don't worry, I won't mess up this towns' reputation," I said calmly.
He gave me a knowing look and I turned to walk off to my car. I knew then that Bly saw me and purposely avoided me. Why? He also sent a message through Hodges and the rest of the officers about me. Something smelled fishy with that guy. I shook my head, got in my
car, let it warm a few minutes and rolled out. I could feel Hodges and his crew watching me as I drove away.
***
When I was looking through Rodney's things, I found his friend Davion Harris' phone number. I called him immediately to speak with his parents. He explained that he lived with his grandparents and he put his grandfather, Mr. Harris on the phone. Asking him if I could come over to ask a few questions, he obliged, giving me their address.
About fifteen minutes later, I arrived at the Harris residence. The neighborhood was quiet, the homes not as spread out like they were in my neighborhood. I smiled seeing that someone had already shoveled the snow on the sidewalk in front of their home and the driveway.
I rang the bell and a very tall black man opened it. He peered down at me from behind wire-rimmed glasses and smiled warmly.
"Mrs. Westbrook?" he asked me. "Come on in," he offered politely, opening the front door. I was met with a scent of oranges and cinnamon. Glancing around, he led me to the sitting room area which was decorated with pictures of a young man in an Army uniform. In fact, there were several.
Mr. Harris stood on the side of me, watching me admire the pictures.
"That's my son George Jr. He served two tours in Iraq, came home and now lives in the VA to help cope with his PTSD. His wife Aja is still in, Air Force though. We are helping to raise Davion until Aja is back in the states. That's her right there," he explained, pointing to a gorgeous athletic latte-toned woman with long tresses.
I nodded, thinking about James. They had some similar pictures Mom and Dad kept on their walls at home. Memories.
"Thank you for allowing me to come here to speak with you and Davion Mr. Harris," I said, extending my hand to his.
He gave a warm smile. "Oh yes, absolutely. We know you must be worried sick. I am glad we are able to help some if anything. Please, have a seat. Let me go get Davion. Would you like anything to drink? Coffee, tea, water?" he offered.
I Know What I Saw Page 6