I Know What I Saw

by S E Cunningham

  I shook my head, sitting down on the brown Queen Anne style chair. "No thank you though, I just had some coffee before I came here."

  He nodded and left the room. I sat staring at the pictures again, wishing I was there under better and different circumstances.

  Mr. Harris appeared with a tall lanky boy, about Rodney's age. He wore a hoodie and jeans and had earbuds wrapped around his neck with an iPhone in his hand. I thought about Rodney and swallowed hard. He always had earbuds listening to music from his phone, too.

  Trying not to let them see my sadness, I sat up straight in the chair, offering a small smile.

  "Davion, this is Mrs. Westbrook, Rodney's auntie," Mr. Harris said to Davion, introducing him to me.

  "Oh okay, hi, um, nice to meet you," he said, extending his hand over to mine. We shook hands and he sat down on the couch. He appeared a bit nervous, but I chalked that up to me being a cop and whatever was being said about me on the news. I didn't care about that, he was about my only help right now since he was Rodney's only friend. Mr. Harris sat down on the other matching chair.

  "So I heard that Rodney is missing Mrs. Westbrook. I can't believe it, because we were talking about going to the concert in a few days," he started. He then looked over at his grandfather. "Remember Granddad? That's the free one I was telling you about," he stated, trying to jog his grandfather's memory.

  "Uh-huh, I remember. Your grandmother did say you could go because school was out," Mr. Harris replied.

  Davion cleared his throat. He looked back at me. "Yeah, so um, we were going to this concert and he was going to invite his girlfriend." He said the girlfriend part quickly and looked down at his shoes.

  "Wow, that sounds like fun Davion. Did Rodney ever introduce you to his girlfriend? Does she have a name?" I asked him, feeling hopeful.

  He nodded. "Well yes and no. I never met her because she's not from around here. She's from where you're from, Manhattan. But they FaceTime each other all the time. She has a best friend named Liyah that she wanted me to meet. We talk from time to time, but I've never been to see her." He rubbed his hands on his kneecaps.

  "I understand Davion. But Rodney, has he ever mentioned going to see Jessica in the city? Where I work at?" I asked, trying not to sound too pushy. In my career, I had questioned enough youth to know how to remain calm and not to manipulate them at all. They were still growing and would eventually reveal whatever truth they wanted to tell anyway.

  Davion looked up at his grandfather and didn't answer at first. Mr. Harris remained silent at first. I was about to say something when Mr. Harris cut in.

  "Davion was actually on punishment because the young lady came out here to Oswego while his grandmother and I took a short trip to Canada last month. When we came home, the young lady had missed her train to go home," he said with a gruff. "My wife had to call Liyah's parents and we drove halfway to meet each other to get her home. Davion's lucky we like Rodney or else he wouldn't be going to the concert." He folded his arms across his chest, giving his grandson a glare.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I let out a small breath. That was a lot to take in especially since Rodney was partially responsible for introducing Davion to Liyah in the first place.

  I raised my eyebrows and nodded. "Okay, I see. I apologize for Rodney's involvement in this Mr. Harris. Can you please tell me more about Rodney when he would come here to your home?" I asked eagerly.

  Mr. Harris' face softened. "Mrs. Westbrook, Rodney is a fine young man. He has such great potential. He has helped Davion with his science homework and he sure can eat to be so slim," he said, chuckling. I laughed, too, nodding in agreement.

  "Look, he was fine here, very respectful, never gave any trouble. No drugs in here from him or Davion although I have caught Davion with some reefer. If I were you, as a retired cop, I would check with this girl Jessica, even if you have to go back to Manhattan yourself. When my wife gets off, she can call you and tell you the same thing," he said sympathetically.

  "I really want you to find your nephew safe and alive. We both know that the longer the time goes by for a missing person, the slimmer chance they are found alive. So whatever we can do to help you, do let us know." He looked over at Davion who was now looking back at his grandfather. "Anything else you'd like to add, son?"

  Davion nodded and turned to me. "Yes. I just want to say I am sad that Rodney is missing. He never ever told me he would run away. He kept talking about Jessica and how he wanted to take care of her when he got older. I told him we would meet plenty of girls along the way, but he insisted that Jessica was the one. He might be at her house since he was so upset when he got busted at school by Sheriff Bly and he wanted out of Oswego. He speaks very highly of you though so I doubt he would just go there like that without telling you or leaving a note." Davion let out a sigh, looking relieved that he got that off his chest.

  I got up from the chair and Mr. Harris rose as well. "Thank you so much, both of you," I said, giving them both a handshake. I turned to Davion. "If you can think of anything else, please let your grandparents know. You've helped me a bit." I started to walk to the door.

  Davion called out at me and I turned back around. "But wait, Mrs. Westbrook, how will you know to find Jessica. Do you have her address?" he asked, wrinkling his brow.

  "Oh don't worry about that, I'm a cop remember? I'll find her. Thank you again," I said, smiling. I looked back at Mr. Harris standing behind Davion. His face held slight amusement.

  I stood there with a bit of confusion because I didn't know about this thing with Jessica was so deep especially since she lived so far off. Rodney never mentioned her. The only thing he mentioned was a hackathon in the city that I let him go to. Perhaps he could€’ve gone there?

  Before I left out, I asked Davion if Jessica did drugs. He told me he didn’t know but he admitted that he saw Rodney smoke once. Davion was busted last year with some weed and was currently on probation. He said Bly was the one who busted him. Mr. Harris scoffed when Davion mentioned him. I didn't say anything to that. Davion explained that he did not do drugs anymore. His plans were to finish high school and join the Navy after graduation.

  "That is wonderful Davion! When I have a moment and this is all over, I am going to introduce you to my brother, Rodney's father. He's been in the Navy for years now. You're on the right path young man," I said feeling some happiness for the first time today.

  Davion grinned sheepishly and thanked me, taking a quick glance behind him at his grandfather. Davion then looked away quickly and down at his shoes, staying quiet. I wonder if he was hiding something else. I glanced up at Mr. Harris whose lips were in a tight line. I think he was upset about Bly so I didn't push it.

  Just as I was about to walk out the door, we heard keys turning in the lock. A petite cocoa-toned woman with reddish-brown locks put her hand to her chest when she saw me. We actually knew each other from the bar she worked at. She closed the door behind her.

  "Oh, Nina, how are you doing girl? I'm so sorry I didn't know you were coming over." She looked past me and at Mr. Harris and asked, "George, did you offer Nina something to drink? Eat? You must be worried sick, come on in and sit down. I'm just getting off work," she said. Mr. Harris leaned down and greeted her with a kiss on her cheek then helped her out of her coat. He took it to the hallway closet and kept walking towards the kitchen area leaving us to talk.

  "Hi Grandma, how was work?" Davion asked.

  Mrs. Lily Harris took off her boots and placed them on the doormat. "It was good baby. Now do me a favor and please bring me my slippers. They should be in the sewing room."

  While Davion went to get the slippers, Ms. Lily hugged me. She was always giving me advice at the bar whenever I came to visit Oswego.

  We walked back to the sitting room and made small talk then after a brief moment, she brought up Rodney's disappearance.

  "I was hoping you'd stop by. I called you earlier but didn't get an answer. I heard about the search crew ou
t there and all those stupid lies they said about you on the news," Ms. Lily said with a wave of her hand.

  "Thank you for believing in me Ms. Lily. I cannot believe this is happening to us. I thought if Rodney was out here, he would be on the right track. I just don't get it," I said, trying not to choke up.

  She leaned over and placed her hand on top of mine. "We know honey. When I heard that Bly was the lead on the case, I thought about what he did to my George. If George didn't have pull with the mayor like that, he would've lost his pension. Bly is a snake," she said with a scoff.

  Now I remembered. She was referring to Mr. Harris' case of a drug bust. They tried to say he set the whole thing up to get a higher position. I didn't know Bly was the one implicating that entire thing. I needed to check him out further.

  I told Ms. Lily what I knew, about Lance and what Davion told me. Mr. Harris walked in with a cup of tea for his wife and left back out. She took a sip and set the cup down on the end table.

  "Oh yes, we know Lance. He's a looker! Anyway, he is a nice guy, very thorough. You would do good to let him help you run that story. You can then refocus on finding Rodney. In fact, you should go home, get something to eat and rest up. How's your shoulder doing?" she asked, nodding in the direction towards it.

  It was hurting like someone was digging their nails in the wound, but I didn't say that. I just told her I was fine.

  "Wait, let me fix you a plate. Do you like beef stew?" she asked me. Before I could answer, she was already up heading towards the kitchen. She fixed me a container full of it and added some biscuits in a separate Rubbermaid bowl. My mouth started to water at the aroma. I really did need to eat.

  "Nina, if there's anything, and I mean anything we can do to help, please let us know. If I hear anything, even from Davion's little girlfriend in Manhattan, we'll let you know. I still let him talk to her although George doesn't fully agree. He forgets that's how I used to sneak to talk to his behind except we didn't have any of this FaceTime and cellphone stuff," she said with a gleam in her eyes.

  "I don't know how to thank you, Ms. Lily. I feel so alone out here, especially since my brother and mother can't get a flight out here yet due to the snow," I held back a sniffle. "I just need to get him home safe. I wouldn't know how to live with myself if something happened to him, you know?" I asked, tears falling down my face.

  She grabbed a tissue from a box sitting on the foyer table and gave it to me. "Sweetheart, don't go there. You have us. And now Lance. Your family will make it here when it's good timing. In the meantime, try to get back on focus and let everyone do their part, okay?" She looked at me with warm brown eyes.

  Wiping my eyes, I nodded and we gave each other a hug. She promised to call me with any updates.

  Driving off, I was still perplexed and worried. I felt like Davion was holding back something. I guess his grandparents didn't want him to bring it up. I've been by myself for a while now but thought about Lance and what Ms. Lily said about him. Stopping at a light, I checked my phone to see if he left a message. He hadn't. I kept driving putting my focus on finding Jessica and asking her a million questions. Oh yeah, and eating the stew and biscuits from the Harrises.

  ***

  A person in a car that was parked a ways from the Harris household watched as the couple watched the woman drive off. They both went back into the house, leaving the light on. Before going inside, the tall man looked up at the installed camera affixed above the door. The man stepped out into the cool air, his large hands stuffed in his pockets. He then rubbed his hand across his graying beard, looked both ways up the block then turned around to go inside and shut the door. The person waited for a beat before driving off into the night.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Numbers usually woke up at four in the morning daily even on weekends. His normal routine consisted of listening to blues songs, working out in his outfitted gym next to his bedroom and meal prep. Then he checks emails that he rarely answers unless they are super important. When he was working, he listened to cybersecurity podcasts just to keep up with the news.

  His appearance is important since he loves to pick up women. His rule though? Never bring them home. He will take them to a hotel, screw them and make them leave. Having a vasectomy two years ago was the best thing he could've ever done in his book.

  Playing the blues is uplifting for him and almost comical. Sometimes the lyrics didn't make any sense, but they keep him going. During his dark childhood days, he played songs by BB King, Stevie Ray Vaughn, and Muddy Waters to name a few. His prized CD collection was something he was most proud of. His father couldn't stand his music, calling it "disturbing", but Numbers didn't care. He liked it and it helped him.

  His hair was his strength. He wore it loose most of the time. Whenever he pulled it up in a man-bun, it meant he had a date. When he wore it in a ponytail, he was working on a hack or about to cook or workout. And when he wore it loose, he was out for blood. And didn't mind it getting splattered on his face, too.

  After a full-body workout and a hearty breakfast of egg whites and spinach, Numbers was in his lavish bedroom, shining his shoes, a pair of Giorgio Armani combat boots. Finishing up, he decided to turn off the music and listen to a cybersecurity podcast. Going to his posh office he decided to have some fun. He called in to the podcast to speak with the jovial host. Pretending to be a small startup, he lied about how all of his seed money was stolen by a hacker group named Darkened Clouds Within.

  "Yeah bro, they spoofed my email, got my details to my bank account and said they would lie on me to the government," Numbers said in a fake whiny voice.

  "Oh wow man, I'm sorry to hear that. What kind of lies would they want to tell on you if they already had your information?" the podcast speaker asked.

  Numbers faked like he was crying. "They took my money man! Darkened Clouds Within! They said they would tell my investors that I had stolen government secrets! Free Snowden! Free all the whistleblowers! I just want to be like Zuckerberg!" Numbers shouted into his phone and hung up, leaving the podcast speaker to a dial tone.

  Numbers laughed at himself, looking at himself in the mirror. "Stupid dumb ass," he mumbled, wiping tears from his eyes. He put on a clean white T-shirt and blue fatigue pants and his boots. He then looked at himself in the full-length mirror when his eyes went dark. He bent his head down and tossed his hair back, letting it hang loosely across his shoulders. He then pulled it in a ponytail.

  He went into another room that was situated next door to where he was keeping Rodney. He loved the terror he was instilling in Rodney by keeping him there as his captive. He smirked at the thought of the things he wanted to do to Rodney before he dumped his body in a frigid frozen hole out back.

  Stepping in the room, buttoning the cuffs to his shirt, he noticed that Brennan was already working. Hacking was in the air.

  "What's up, man? You heard me on the podcast earlier?" Numbers said bragging.

  Brennan chuckled. "Yeah man, I heard you. You're funny you know that?"

  Numbers walked over to Brennan working hard on his computer. "What're the numbers looking like? That's all I want to know."

  Brennan stopped typing and looked at him. "Really? I thought that old lad you got chained up like an animal is your concern."

  Numbers scoffed. "Watch it, bro. Let's just say both are equally important." He grabbed a chair and sat down next to Brennan.

  Brennan shrugged. "We can get another six figures with this one. Easy piece of cake, you know?"

  Numbers smiled. "I like that! So tell me, what happened last night? You followed her for a long time didn't you?"

  Brennan nodded his head. "Mm-hmm. Yes, I did. You can tell she is going crazy over this boy. What's he to you anyway? I mean we could just off him for the tapes he has and that's the end of it. Why all the agonizing torture?"

  Numbers stood up abruptly and knocked his chair over on its side.

  "Don't tell me what to do Brennan, okay?" he bellowed.


  Brennan didn't flinch. He was used to Numbers' tantrums that they became normal. He sighed and went back to typing on his laptop. He didn't have time for this today.

  "Calm it down Numbers. Just a simple question. I just wanted to know what makes him so special that we have all the theatrics to go along with it. Search parties, cops, even TV reporters. One of them from a paper wrote a nice little piece on the lad's aunt. She has quite the checkered past doesn't she?" Brennan asked. He clicked on his screen, opening a new tab to show the article written by Lead Crime Reporter Lance Steele. Numbers picked up his chair, sitting down in it to read through the article. He smiled.

  "Well, I didn't want too much publicity on this," Numbers seethed. "The more she gets, the more I will just hold onto the kid. He stays until we find out he doesn't have any other copies of this file, ya dig?" Numbers asked, slapping Brennan playfully but hard on his shoulder.

  Brennan sighed deeply and turned to face Numbers. "Okay sure. What about this other one though?"

  Numbers snapped his fingers, his eyes twinkling. "Oh yes, that's right. I almost forgot about him. Yeah, we'll work on him, too. He crossed us way too many times and I need some fresh blood."

  Brennan smiled. "Yes, so do I. Just say the word and you know I'm there." He typed a transaction that would transfer money to their account. Then he did another one that took his portion out and transferred that. All in one hour, Brennan hacked credit cards making close to three-hundred thousand dollars.

  "Well, he's in the room with your favorite captive. I'm ready whenever you are Warren," Brennan said in a low voice, moving his hands away from the keyboard. His breathing became heavier.

  Numbers pulled out a hunting knife from the side pocket on his pants.

  "Oh, we need to teach these traitors a little lesson. And remember Brennan, Rodney's off limits. For now," Numbers added, standing up holding the knife down in his hand. He walked slowly out of the room heading towards the downstairs basement room. He listened at the door then walked back to the kitchen.