I Know What I Saw

by S E Cunningham

  Brennan watched Numbers leave out. He hated it when he went on his little hissy fits. It reminded him of his father. Throughout the years, Brennan learned to control himself, going in for the kill when the person least expected it. He didn’€™t mind the murders because it meant that no one could tell what he and Numbers did behind closed doors in the dark underworld of hacking. Right now, they were both clocking around two million each. This was more than what he could'€™ve imagined having in his life, but Brennan wanted more.

  And in order to get more, they had to get rid of guys like Miguel Ortega and now this other kid who Brennan warned was too young in the game, but Numbers tried it anyway. Now he was going to die.

  Right when he was about to go meet Numbers in the basement, his phone chimed twice. It was a notification from the news stating that there were no updates in finding Rodney and that the local police were still searching and asking the local public to help with any tips. Brennan shrugged knowing no one would come back to find them. They were deep in the cut, away from civilization. The next neighbor’s house was about three miles away.

  The second notification was about an auction going on at that moment to a bidder in Luxembourg. The payout price was going to be a million. Leaving the room, Brennan spotted Numbers in the kitchen chopping up some peppers to make an omelet. Numbers is playing loud blues music as usual. His expression is very focused and he is wearing an apron.

  Numbers noticed Brennan standing there and turns down the music.

  "I have something that could brighten your day even more," he says to him, handing over his phone. Numbers wiped his hands on the apron and took the phone from Brennan.

  "See that?" Brennan pointed, that's the one about the auction. We gotta get in on this," Brennan said excitedly.

  Numbers'€™ eyes lit up, handing the phone back to Brennan. "Yeah, well you'd better get on it then. This is great, but I'd feel even better showing Rodney my skills.

  Brennan's brow wrinkled in confusion. "What skills are you talking about?"

  "These!" Numbers shouted. He held up the knives he was cutting the food with making swift motions with them. He thrust one down into the cutting board.

  "I want Rodney to suffer for a very long time," Numbers hissed.

  Brennan gave an evil smirk. "And that he will. "He grabbed a cup of coffee and a bowl of banana-nut oatmeal he warmed up a short time ago. Leaving Numbers to impersonate Bruce Lee, Brennan sat at the kitchen's island thinking about the opportunities they had right in front of them.

  He enjoyed his food thinking about their bright future ahead. One thing about these guys, they exercised hard and ate very healthy. They didn’€™t want to get fat or else they wouldn’€™t be able to keep up with their dirty deeds.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I let Moxy out of the house that morning and took a short walk around the lake. Wanting to get some exercise despite the heavy snowfall from last night, I trudged my way through. I said my morning prayers, especially for Rodney. After about ten minutes, my father video-called me.

  "Nina, how are you dear?" he asked me. He was always up bright and cheerful no matter what country he was in.

  "Oh Dad, it's so good to hear from you," I said, stopping. Moxy was rolling in the snow, forcing a smile out of me.

  "Well, I'm so glad to hear from you, too. How are you holding up? Tell me what's going on," Dad said soothingly.

  I filled him in on everything. From that night when we had dinner, to my broken door and discovering Rodney was taken, to the police's neo-search of Rodney due to his "criminal activity".

  "I mean they're treating him as if he was stone-cold criminal wreaking havoc in this small town. I love it here, but the next time I need to escape for some R and R, I'm coming down with you and Mom, believe that," I said letting out a frustrated sigh. I started walking again.

  "Yeah, I know what you mean. I've seen this in some missing person cases. They could be doing this to connect some dots. Was Rodney in some sort of trouble the reason why he was hanging out drinking and smoking?" Dad asked.

  I shook my head. "No Dad. This is nothing like Matt. I believe Rodney is acting out because of the divorce. He truly can't cope. I honestly don't think he ran away. I am on it as soon as we hang up. Going to meet up with the search party Lieutenant Ben from my department hired for us and also follow-up with my own news story." I waved my hand over at Moxy to come to me. She obeyed, running through the snow.

  I looked down at the screen seeing my father's eyebrows raised. "What news story on you Nina? What is going on?" Dad asked. He was sitting at an outside restaurant with a glass of fruit juice and a plate of veggies in front of him. His skin was smooth, his hair graying slightly and he had a healthy glow with a nice goatee going on. He was always health conscious and I was grateful for that because I was, too.

  I filled him in on how the media has smeared my name by saying I set up Rodney'€™s disappearance to redeem myself from the shooting incident months prior. I conveniently left out my meeting with the Harrises. I wanted to follow-up on that myself without getting our hopes up too high. Besides, the whole Jessica thing could be a long stretch, but I aimed to find out anyway soon as I got the information I needed on her.

  "That's ridiculous sweetie. Is this the new thing with the media these days? To get likes and such? We should've kept newspapers around," my father said frustratingly.

  I nodded in agreement. "Yup, I know. It's all lies. Had I known that day would somehow resurface in our own family tragedy, I would have never gone out on that sting."

  My father waved his hand, popping a grape in his mouth and chewing. After finishing up he said, "Nina, you're just doing your job. Trying to save the world is part of it. I should know."

  "Thanks Dad. I am glad to hear that from you," I said softly. Glad he didn't criticize me like James did.

  "So what now?" Dad asked me as he munched on some almonds next.

  I thought about Lance and the nice story he ran. I had fallen asleep around one and saw the email when I woke up around five, giving him the green light to run it. I figured Lance must have been up all night writing it. I don't know how I'll ever repay him.

  Explaining the article to my father, his face seemed to brighten up.

  "Perhaps I can talk to one of my friends at the news station there to see if they could get this cleared up. Along with your story, that part of equating your unfortunate incident with Rodney's disappearance should subside. Not right away, but it'll take away all that gossipy chatter," Dad explained confidently.

  "Thanks, Dad, that'll work. In the meantime, my time today will be spent combing through the neighborhoods, checking cameras at stores, shopping centers, traffic lights, anywhere the police might've missed. I will search for him using every fiber in my body. I feel like I failed as a wife, a cop and now an aunt. What is wrong with me Dad?"

  "Nothing dear. Nothing at all. You did your best as a wife, still doing it as a cop and you're the best auntie in the world. You're out there by yourself. James should be there, but I understand he can't get a flight out yet. When he does, he'll help you. In the meantime, along with your search efforts, my talking to the sane media friends I have, it would be beneficial to hire a private investigator if nothing else turns up. That way, you won't have to do too much legwork on your own. You look tired sweetie. I need you to take care of yourself, too," Dad said. His green eyes melted my heart.

  Him mentioning private investigators, made me remember I have a friend, Joya from Brooklyn. She was the best darn PI that I've ever known. In fact, she had already texted me when the alerts went out from the missing person association. I hadn't had the time to call her back but would later today.

  "Don't worry Dad, I'm good, believe me. I took my meds, ate breakfast, getting some vitamin D with this beautiful sun and I'm going to find Rodney safe and sound. Watch," I said, starting up my walk again.

  He grinned. "That's my girl. Look, I gotta go, but please keep me posted. As soon as I can get ou
t of here, I'll be there. Your mother is worried about you, too, so be sure to call her, okay? I love you."

  "I love you, too, Dad. And when James touches down in Oswego, I'll let you know. Take care and thank you."

  He smiled again. "You're welcome."

  I felt a little bit at ease with the pep talk my father gave me. He was always like that and I always listened. Some didn't take heed to his advice, thinking he was too fatherly from a distance. I knew he was just trying to make an honest living to take care of his family. It seems like Matt resented that and took matters in his own hands to live a life of petty crimes and drug addiction.

  Was this what Rodney was aiming for? Couldn't be. He loved music. I bought him his first guitar and promised to let him turn the garage into a partial studio so he could practice. He seemed to like that. Just thinking about music, I decided to add the music venues around town to check into. Never know. Someone could've seen him there.

  I checked the comments underneath the article Lance wrote about me. He was not looking for sympathy for me at all. The tone was truthful with his own opinionated questions asking the public, 'Just because someone who is in public service made a mistake, do you honestly think they would go to this extreme of redeeming themselves? No, the missing person epidemic is real. There are proven facts that fifteen-year-old Rodney Perkins was taken from his residence between the hours of midnight and 7 am. What would you do if this were you? Is this about humanity or the latest news sensation?'

  I nodded. Wow, he went in on this. He even touched on how the other grubby-pawed reporters showed up to my home, unannounced, bombarding me with false accusations. Although it was truthful, it did kind of appear to make the competition look bad. In which they were. Bad.

  Browsing through the comments, I did see some were a bit sympathetic, sending love and prayers. Some were neutral, waiting for the outcome of the story. There were a couple of them held for moderation. I assumed those were the mean ones. I usually don't read comments on anything. People are entitled to their own opinions of a matter. However, this was about us. My family. A loved one who is out there and endangered. I could feel it. I just didn't know where to begin.

  I placed my phone back in my pocket and started walking again. After staring out at the small frozen lake behind the house saying another prayer, I felt a blanket of warmth take over me. I don't know what it was, but I do know I felt comforted. Despite that, I had work to do. People to call and of course, places to go to. I was used to all of that, so that and my tenacity in wanting to find Rodney alive is what kept me going.

  Walking back, Moxy ran off ahead of me. She loved this time of year when she was taken outside. No sooner than I was about to go back inside the house, I spotted a black car on my driveway. I didn't recognize any of them from yesterday, so I instantly pulled out my gun from inside of my jacket. I wasn't taking any chances. I know I'm on administrative leave, but I'm still licensed to carry in New York.

  "Hey! Show me your damn hands, now!" I yelled out to the person, power-walking toward the vehicle.

  "Come out of the car and show me your hands," I yelled again, cautiously approaching closer to the driver's side of the vehicle.

  The door opened slowly and the person, wearing all black, got out of the car with his hands up.

  Chapter Seventeen

  "Geez, Nina! It's me! Lance!" Lance called out at me. His eyes were wide-eyed at me in bewilderment.

  Quickly lowering my gun, I put it back in my holster wrapped around my shoulders leaving my jacket open. Sweat started to form on my forehead under my New York Giants pom-pom hat.

  "Lance, you scared me. I'm so sorry," I said, walking closer to him. I was so embarrassed that I felt my cheeks flush.

  He reached out to touch my shoulder, glancing down at my gun then back at me. Without taking my eyes off his, I put the gun away and zipped up my jacket. He took his hand down.

  "It's okay. I'm sorry you're going through this, but I came here to tell you something that could help you," he explained, brushing off that I almost shot him. I definitely didn't need that. Especially since he just wrote this nice piece about me. I felt so bad.

  Swallowing hard and regaining my focus, I nodded. "Okay go ahead."

  "Well, I'm glad you liked the story for starters. Seems like our phones can't stop ringing with those wanting to help. I was told by the producers down at the TV station that more people are calling the tip hotline. Those are being forwarded to the police. You should've received a call from the reporters. Did they call you Nina?" Lance asked.

  I was shocked by people wanting to help. "Wow, no, um, no I didn't receive a call yet. I was uh, talking to my dad and taking a walk and going over my to-do list which of course consists of where to look for Rodney next until James gets here," I said, walking over to lean against his car. He leaned against it, too. I looked it over realizing why I wasn't too sure of who the driver was when I approached him. This car was a black Charger, different than the pickup truck he was driving yesterday.

  He cleared his throat. "I understand. Well anyway, I went around town, letting folks know I was part of the search party."

  "What folks, Lance?" I asked, staring straight out ahead. I didn't want to think about the crackheads I had to take off the street and into jail or rehab centers. Rodney couldn't fit in that population, right?

  "These are the underground drug-using partygoers of Oswego. Every city in America has them. Always been here, I just think some people here were just in denial. The ones I ran into, some are his age believe it or not. Runaways. Had lack of family support so they left in order to cope. They didn't know him though. They admitted they smoke pot and occasionally pop pills but nothing major."

  I scoffed at the "nothing major" part.

  "Go on," I ordered.

  "Oswego does not have a severe opioid crisis like the neighboring towns, they have their share. Some are even starting to dip into fentanyl and heroin use. Which we both know could be deadly," he said directly, looking down at me.

  I closed my eyes for a brief moment then reopened them. I understood what Lance was getting at. There was a possibility that Rodney, my sweet baby-faced nephew, could be caught up in the world of track marks, crack vials and Molly. I had to face the reality that he was growing up in an ugly world of harsh truth, no matter how good of a family he came from. Look at the Harrises. Good hardworking family went through the same thing. It could happen to anyone.

  Lance continued talking about drug statistics and though I heard him, I felt a panic attack coming on. Feeling dizzy, I held out my left arm to stay steady against his car, breathing softly in and out. He didn't seem to notice as he rambled on with comparisons about drug use and the increases across the country.

  "Yes I know," I managed to say. I took a few deep breaths. "I know because I deal with this in the city and the numbers are much higher due to a larger population. This makes me wonder if Rodney was going to the city for this and if he owed anyone money out there? I mean, my brother made sure that I had enough money for him and I always gave some to Rodney accordingly. It was for lunch money at school, snacks, school supplies, and occasional items to buy online such as music, tech gear, things he likes. He always wore the same clothes mainly dark skinny jeans, lace-up boots, and a canvas jacket. He never appeared to have been in any trouble, except those few times he got caught out here by Bly."

  "That's good Nina, you're thinking this through. I know I asked this partially before, but could he have used his money for drugs and might owe someone? The harsh kidnap speaks volumes," Lance said empathetically.

  I shrugged. "Could be. I am not in denial about that. I know from locking up so many juveniles that kids know how to mask things well. Man, what happened to this generation, Lance?" I asked him, turning to face him.

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "The generations never changed Nina. Were always the same. We just have tools and devices these days to forward this push of endless crimes. Our jobs now are to help save
as many as we can out of that tunnel, you know?"

  "Okay so tell me about these kids. How long have they been on the streets? Are they willing to talk to me? Did you show them a picture of Rodney? How did you know to go there and why you didn't call me so I could go with you?" I asked in a rush.

  He chuckled. "Whoa slow down. I thought about asking you but didn't want you to be discouraged if we came up empty. When I left last night, you appeared exhausted. Too much going on at once. You needed to rest up some, that's all. I wasn't trying to leave you out of anything. And I didn't text you about it because then you really would've been up worrying all night. That's why I'm here," Lance explained. He leaned up off the car, standing directly in front of me, but keeping an appropriate distance.

  I stared up at him before finding my tongue to speak. "Would you like to come inside?"

  Right before he was about to answer, we both turned around at the sound of a car pulling up. The tires screeched on the snow on the driveway that I still hadn't shoveled. Rodney and I both did that job together. Swallowing hard, I put my hand over my eyes to block the blazing sunlight so I could see who it was. This time, it was a sheriff's car. Standing straight up, I stiffened my back, praying it wasn't bad news.

  Chapter Eighteen

  "To be honest, I forgot all about Bly since he doesn't seem all that interested in helping me find Rodney," I said in a tight voice. I really didn't need my blood pressure to rise.

  "Well I haven't," Lance said, his voice going deep. He crossed his arms across his chest, waiting for Bly to come out of the car.

  Parking his car in a slant, Bly got out, marching directly to us.

  "You see, this is why you shouldn't meddle in police business Lance," Bly barked, standing almost toe-to-toe with Lance.