"I guess you don't know about Matt stealing Mom's Lexus SUV again then do you?" James chided.
I felt my cheeks turn red. Mom hadn't mentioned that at all. When this was over, I was going to talk to her about it. She probably didn't want to upset me.
"Tell me more about Rodney and this hacking of his. This seems to be the key to what he has going on, but I am still not sure if it is connected to his disappearance," I interjected, changing the subject. I didn't want to talk down on my family. Addiction was hard to give up and I didn't want to judge.
"Let's see, he took an interest when I showed him my network lab at the old house. He started building computers from the ground up when he was around ten. Then he moved on to networks which lead to learning about security and hacking. I enrolled him in some classes a few years back but that he got bored with them quickly. Started self-teaching himself through Youtube. He's an ambitious kid, which is why I don't get this at all," James explained proudly.
I smiled. That sounded like me when I was his age. I shadowed police officers, read every true crime book I could get my hands on and even attended court sessions to get a feel of what went on in court proceedings. I have always had such passion for my work, which is why I am a cop today.
I filled James in on what I knew, including about Jessica Garcia, Johnston, Bly, stories Lance ran, the photos and what Davion shared. I also told him what Ms. Lily shared with me just a short time ago. James listened intently without saying a word at first.
He let out a low whistle. "That's a lot. Thought we knew him, huh?" He laughed uneasily. Before I could answer him, I heard a chime go off.
"Hey Nina, that's the airline letting me know we are cleared to fly out to New York. I should be there shortly. I'll be sure to text you when I get in," he stated. He sounded like he was speedwalking by the swishing sound of his jacket.
"Okay, cool. I can pick you up. It's not like I can sleep anyway. I'll be up," I offered. I noticed my sign for the highway and merged to my left to get on.
"Are you sure? You've done enough. Still are, Sis. I don't know how I could've gotten this taken care of without you," James said sincerely.
I smiled. "It's okay, I'll see you in a bit. Text me when you arrive. I will be there in around thirty minutes once you text me."
"Okay, love you, see you soon."
"Love you, too," I said, mashing the off button on my hands-free device.
As I was driving, I thought back on what I knew.
How could I not know what Rodney was up to? Did I give him that much leeway as a teen, that I was truly clueless? What kind of hacking was he into? Was it because of hacking that he disappeared? Perhaps the money was just too appealing and he joined a gang of some sort. I would definitely have to reach out to my hacker friends back in Brooklyn. I was so busy that I forgot to do that.
How did he get so much money to help Jessica? Who were these guys he was with? And just why was he always outside drinking when he was supposed to be in school?
I cursed out loud as I drove carefully on the highway. I am so mad at myself for being so deep in my sleep that I didn't hear Rodney being taken out of the house. I have stomped down on worst criminals than this, why can't I catch this one? I made a reminder to myself to install cameras around the property, although I had Moxy. I was so into my own interrogation that I didn't realize it was time for me to exit. The roads were empty which worked for me since I wanted to get home, grab a bite to eat and rest until James arrived.
Just as I was about to make a turn to go across a small bridge, I noticed a roaring motorcycle ripping through the snow coming from the opposite direction. My eyes widened as he cut in front of me. I swerved to avoid hitting him which caused my car to slip on the ice, careen over the guardrails and flip over and over in a ditch at the end of the bridge. The windshield and passenger windows burst open, glass shattering in my view. I held my arms up to avoid any getting in my eyes. Luckily, the airbag burst, helping to avoid that. My head hit the ceiling of my car with each flip that seemed to last forever.
I screamed out loud, holding my breath thinking this was it. My end was here. I shut my eyes tight to avoid watching it.
Breathing heavy, I felt a knot forming on the side of my face and something wet. Blood. I looked around me, noticing the car had stopped.
Frantically, I unbuckled my seat belt and turned on my hazard lights. All around me was still. The trees must have held hibernating animals because not one came out. With my knees drawn up, I reached for my phone in its holder. It was still there, but I couldn't reach it. I scooted down toward it, ignoring the pain in my shoulder and my neck which I knew had to be whiplashed. After about thirty seconds, I grabbed my phone, but couldn't get a reception on my phone. It kept going in and out. I felt for my weapon inside my coat. It was there.
Miraculously, I got out of my car trying to scramble up to see if the motorcyclist was still around. Pulling out my gun, I limped toward the guardrail, climbing over it. Shuffling my pained leg along the road for help, I turned at the familiar sound of the motorcycle. Whoever this was, they were coming straight for me. I pumped my gun at the person, but he dodged the bullets, swerved and kept ramming toward me.
Thinking the motorcyclist was going to mow me down because he seriously wasn't trying to stop, I dove straight into a ditch on the other side of the road rolling downward several times on the ice. Missing my grip on the rails, I fell down, tumbling onto the ice and hit my head on a rock causing me to black out.
Chapter Thirty-Three
On his way home after killing Bly and his wife Wendy, he casually stopped by the store, stocking up on his favorite protein mixes. He thought about the look of terror Wendy had on her face when she opened the door wearing nothing but a black teddy with a silk robe to match. Too bad Bly didn't get his before he sliced and diced him up, Numbers thought to himself. She actually looked sexy in that number. He didn't want her though and wasted no time in taking her out early with stab wounds to the chest.
As he made it to the front to check out, Numbers received a message on his phone.
"It's done, no worries." Putting his phone in his pocket, Numbers smiled as he placed his groceries on the belt. A young woman, around twenty-five or so was working behind the register.
Numbers, wearing his hair in a ponytail and all black with a cap on his head, decided to flirt.
"Let's get straight to it. You'd rather be with me than working in this shitty ass store, right," he said in a low voice, winking his eye at her.
She giggled, continued to ring the items, swiping the items slowly. Although he was obviously older, she enjoyed the attention. She turned to give him a smirk, continuing to ring up the items.
Numbers turned around to see who was listening. A balding man around sixty-five was visibly upset.
"Can you please hurry up? I'm trying to get outta here before all this snow hits me and I can't get home," he barked.
Ignoring him, Numbers surveyed the young lady. She sported a short-haired cut like Katy Perry, had twinkling brown eyes, around five-four in height and had thick hips. Numbers licked his lips as he eyed her curvaceous figure from head to toe.
"I'd like to take you out and I'd like to hear a yes," Numbers said salaciously.
"Hmph, you want a whole lot of things, don't you? Your total is seventy-eight oh-nine. Is that cash or card?" she asked, smiling sweetly.
Numbers paid for his items with cash, handing over four twenties. He squinted his eyes at her and grabbed her hand when she gave him his change. He rubbed the top of her hand, never taking his flirtatious gaze off of her. Taking out a pen from his coat pocket, he wrote his number on one of the dollar bills she gave him. He handed her the other dollar.
"I'm not leaving until you write your number on this dollar for me, and you take the one with my number," Numbers demanded playfully. To her, he was playing, but in his mind, he wasn't.
Numbers always got what he wanted.
She smirked at him aga
in and wrote her number with her name.
"Polly? Is that your real name?" Numbers asked.
"Look I'm gonna need you to move out of the way, you got your numbers or whatever you're doing, but seriously you're holding up the line!" the older man exclaimed.
"I can't wait to hear from you Polly," Numbers said, trying to sound sexy. Polly turned around, giving an extra playful giggle. She turned back around and was met with cold eyes from the man.
"You younguns need to keep your legs closed. No respect whatsoever," he mumbled, pointing his finger at her. Rolling her eyes at him, she started to ring up his items as he tossed them from his basket onto the belt.
Once outside, Numbers was lurking in the shadows. The old man reminded him of his father and he was not trying to go there with being disrespected ever again like that. He followed him to his car.
The man hummed an old holiday tune, heading toward his Ford Taurus. He shivered. "Gosh, it's cold outside."
"That isn't the only thing that's cold now is it?" Numbers hissed from behind.
The man hollered at the sight of Numbers' hunting knife gleaming under the snowy sky. He looked around frantically about to scream when Numbers rushed him, forcing him to fall on the side of the car.
"Shut the fuck up! You'd better not yell or else I'll slit your wrinkly ass throat," Numbers growled.
The man held his hands up in surrender. "Please, don't kill me. I have a blind wife at home, I need to take care of her. Please have mercy, don't kill me!" The man's eyes were wide as saucers as Numbers got on his knees, leaned in on him, yanked him around, and placed his arm around his neck to yoke him up.
The man's arms flew sporadically this way and about, dropping his groceries onto the ground. He couldn't breathe as he wheezed and turned red, grabbing at Numbers' arms who only held onto the man tighter. Numbers thought about his father, the abuse, the insults, the everything he didn't do for him. This man reminded him of that. And he had to go.
He continued with his sleeper hold and thought about the man's wife for a split second. Numbers didn't care about that. He didn't have a conscious. He heard footsteps approaching then stop. If it weren't for that, the man would've been gone.
"Will?" Polly called out. Numbers looked up at her, almost forgetting he gave her a fake name.
He grinned and tossed the man down on the ground, face down.
"Polly. Don't worry, he's not dead," he said nonchalantly, stepping over the man. He stepped to her, her hands trembling at her sides. He stood toe-to-toe with her and lifted her chin up toward him with two fingers. He kissed the side of her face.
"What you couldn't wait to get with me already?" he asked, pulling back.
She gulped, taking a sneak peek at the man then back at Numbers. "No, I mean, well eventually, yes. But you forgot this, " she said, scared, looking at him. Then back at the man lying on the ground. She handed him a bag of ice cream.
Warren chuckled. "Oh, thank you, baby. I appreciate it. Now, remember, he's not dead. And neither are you so count your blessings," Warren seethed. "And I'll be waiting for that phone call."
Polly understood, glanced back up at Numbers, turned on her heels and ran right back into the store. Warren laughed to himself knowing he might have just messed up his chance to get laid. He could've easily killed her, but he knew he was on camera in the store. And probably in the lot, but he didn't care. The man should've waited his turn. And kept his damn mouth closed. He was an adult taking care of himself for so long, he didn't need anyone telling him what to do.
Shrugging, he went to his truck, a shiny black Ford-250. Settling the bags inside, he sat down and turned the heat on the seats. Receiving another ping sound on his phone, he hurried to pull out his phone. His heart started to race as soon as he saw who it was. Sending a quick text, he told Brennan where to meet him and that it was important.
Chapter Thirty-Four
James tried Nina's phone four more times. "C'mon Sis, pick up. I guess she really is that tired," he said out loud to no one in particular as he made his way to baggage claim. Syracuse Hancock Airport was filled with college students making their way home for the holiday break. James forgot all about that, worrying about his son and work. After waiting for about thirty minutes for his bag, he called his mother. She didn't answer either, so he left her a message letting her know he arrived in New York and that Nina wasn't answering.
"Yeah, Ma, she's probably out trying to find Rodney and the phone lost battery power. I'm going to get a rental car instead and drive carefully out there to the house. I have my key to get in so that helps. I'll text you when I make it there. Love you." He ended the call and made his way to Hertz rental cars.
After waiting another forty minutes, James finally paid for his vehicle. Freeing himself from the madhouse of the airport, he headed out onto the highway to get to the house. He tried Nina's phone again, but no answer, just straight to voicemail. Turning on the wipers to a faster speed, he turned up the radio.
James really didn't want to know if Rodney was dead. His gut was telling him he was still alive, but he's been known to be wrong at times. He couldn't deal with this kid right now. Ever since his cheating ass mother showed up with her many lovers, the boy had been messed up ever since.
"Dammit!" James yelled, hitting his hand against the steering wheel. He looked up at the sky staring at heavy snow falling again.
"This is all my fault," he talked over the radio playing Tears for Fears. He chuckled sarcastically, switching the radio station. "That used to be one of her favorite groups and I took her to see them in concert. Ungrateful bitch." Sometimes the slightest little thing reminded him of Jill. He really needed to start dating again.
James reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out the joint he had wrapped in foil hidden in between his clothes. He needed to relieve some stress. The drive was slow anyway so he was able to light it up on the car's lighter on the console. Drawing a pull, he suddenly wished he wasn't smoking, but he couldn't help it. No one knew he had recently started smoking it again. Not on a regular, but whenever he was stressed. He couldn't do that anyway because of the random piss tests he had to take in the Navy.
He merged his truck to leave the exit leading to Interstate 481 which would lead him to the house. He stopped at a gas station to pick up some snacks. Suddenly the weed gave him the munchies. Paying for his items, he left the store, got back in the truck and drove off.
His phone rang. He picked it up and frowned at the number. It was an international number he didn't want to see.
"What is it Jill?" he answered with a gruff. He handled the truck with one hand as he munched on a Twinkie. "Speak."
He heard sniffles over the phone, causing him to roll his eyes. "Where's our baby?" she whimpered.
James laughed, chewed then swallowed. "Baby? That baby is almost a man. He is going to be fine. Why don't you worry about the baby you have on the way? In fact, where's your new boo? I'm sure he's right beside you breathing down your neck."
"Whatever James. I am concerned about our son. Where is he? Why is he in Oswego and not with you?" she yelled out.
"What? You don't get to question me. You left us, remember? Look, I know you're worried, so I'll keep you posted," James said, stuffing his mouth with another bite.
He listened to her yapping about how she can't be a mother to Rodney because he was taken from her. James tuned her out, staring straight ahead. His eyes shut for a few seconds, but what he saw next, caused him to jerk the truck roughly to the right.
"Oh shit! No! I didn't even see him!" James screamed out.
"What are you talking about James? James?" Jill shrieked. James blinked his eyes in front of him. The man he just hit was no longer there.
"Listen, I'll call you back when Rodney's been found," James said, ending the call. Pulling over, he turned off the ignition and got out of his truck. Ahead of him about ten feet away was a tall man in a big coat near a stranded vehicle.
James
carefully walked over to help the guy waving his arms frantically. "Hey are you alright?" he shouted.
He left his truck lights on, but couldn't make out the man. James turned to see if he had hit anyone, then back at this man. Is my mind playing tricks on me? He thought he'd just seen a man standing in the middle of the road. He walked slowly to the man near the other truck.
"Excuse me? Do you need any help?" James called out to him, cupping his hand over his mouth. The man was wearing a large hooded parka coat with gloves on. The fur from the hood was camouflaging his face so James was unable to see him.
"Excuse me?" James asked again. "Do you need help? Are you okay?" James called out again, still trying to make out the man's face, but it was fully covered except for his eyes.
The man nodded his head, speaking in Spanish.
"Si, si! Ayude me! Por favor! Mi familia! We were hit!" the man explained to James in a mix of English and Spanish. He tried his hardest to explain to James that his family was inside and he needed to get them out first.
James moved closer to the man. What the hell am I doing? For all I know, he could be a stone-cold killer. He didn't hear anyone else in the truck, as he stepped closer by the side of the truck and saw the man go in the back of his pickup truck, opening the door. The snow was coming down, making it hard for James to see, but not hard enough to feel that something was wrong. He didn't hear anyone else in this man's truck. James started to back away but called out to the man. Just in case he was wrong.
"Excuse me! Excuse me! If you want me to call the police, they can help you and your family," James yelled out again. I'd better get going, he mumbled to himself, taking a step backward.
The man didn't answer him.
James pulled his own hood off so he could see the man stepping from around the side of the vehicle. The hazard lights from the man's truck made a rapid red blinking flash across the thick snow.
I Know What I Saw Page 15