Fatal Decision

by John Greenwood

  "Mr. Smith. How are you?" We shake hands. "I'm so sorry to hear about what you're going through." I nod in return. "What brings you to see me?"

  "Can we talk somewhere more private?" He nods and gestures me to follow him past the receptionist desk. I walk down the hallway and come to the third office. The glass window has been completely removed.

  "Please pardon the mess. We had an accident the other day. They are in the process of cleaning it up." It feels so odd going in here. I feel goose bumps all over. He points to a chair for me to sit on facing his large desk filled with manila folders. "I take it you're not here to see about representation." I nod. "I'm very aware of my involvement in your son's disappearance. The police told me about the car being parked in front of my house and the note with my address." He looks down at the screen on his laptop. "I've told them everything I know and I'm not sure how I am in any way related to your son."

  "I understand. I just wanted to meet you in person and see if there is anything you can offer to help find him. I know about the money being stolen as well. Apparently, I was framed for that."

  "I heard that. I was actually on the phone with the detective when you came in. He told me you were in the bank at the same time, but that it wasn't you." He looks me up and down.

  "If you don’t mind my asking where was the money taken from?"

  He looks down at the screen again. "It was taken from here. It was part of a case I am currently involved in." I look behind me at the open glass window. "That is from another situation. The money was taken a few days before."

  "Was the case the money was taken from anything in particular?"

  "It was an estate case. Nothing different from any other hundreds of cases we work on besides the cash. That's another story." I give him an odd look. "The guy was one of those that kept the money in a mattress." I nod. "I just don’t see how it is related to your son. I wish it was so I could help. I have been over this with the police already."

  "I understand. I just don’t know where else to start." I'm trying to look for any possible clue that Sorenson is involved with Tommy or knows anything and so far I am getting nothing. "Do you have any children?" He looks at me oddly.

  "I have a daughter in first grade, so I can relate to what you're going through, but I can’t possibly fathom what it must be like to have her missing." I watch him look at a photo of a little girl behind him.

  "I don’t mean that. I'm just trying to find any connection between you and Tommy."

  "I understand. I just don’t think there is any. I wish I could help you or offer you something, but I've told you everything I know. I have a pretty boring life. I work and my wife thinks I work way too many hours and she's probably right and then I go home to my family. Other than that, unless your son has been involved in any litigation, I don't know of any way I can help." I nod and watch him answer his phone. He holds up one finger and hangs up a moment later. I stand up.

  "Thanks so much for taking the time with me." He shakes my hand and grabs my shoulder with the other.

  "Sorry I couldn’t be more help. Please contact me any time if you think I can be of any help. Good luck." I shake his hand and head back down the hallway. I take one more look back at the missing window and walk out of the firm. As soon as I get back in the Tahoe, my phone begins to vibrate. I quickly answer it recognizing my home number.

  "Hello."

  "Sheldon, where are you?" Michelle's voice sounds nervous.

  "I'm driving around getting ready to head home."

  "Okay. Please hurry. Detective Stanton is waiting for you. He needs to talk to you about the bank."

  "What do you mean?" I pull out of the parking lot.

  "I don’t know. He won’t tell me, but he did tell me about how he thinks you were set up when you made that withdrawal. Don't you usually go to the ATM?"

  I pull in front of a red Camaro and hear his horn bark at me. I wave. "Usually, I just needed to do something different."

  "I'm worried about you."

  "I'm okay. I just don’t know what to do anymore."

  "I know, just come right home."

  "I'm on my way." I end the call. I hate lying to my wife. It's one thing I promised myself I would never do and I never have until all this happened. We've been married fifteen years now and have probably had fourteen good years, just one bad year. I think it was when Tommy was first born. The stress of a new baby and lack of sleep added to our discontent of each other, but after that everything has been great. We actually met in a very unique way. We we're both involved in a fender bender in a supermarket parking lot and after exchanging information and calling each other something much greater developed. She is really my best friend, especially since my parents live so far away on the other coast. I remind myself that her parents are due in tomorrow. I will definitely welcome all their help and support. I stop at a red light and watch the video of Tommy again. I can’t get over his eyes. I will definitely ask the guy about that next time he calls, and I know he will call again about the last job. I wish he would just tell me what it is so I can get Tommy back to me. I close my eyes for a second and pretend he's seated right beside me. Just this year, he started sitting in the front seat next to me. I drive for the next fifteen minutes. I don’t turn the radio on anymore in case they talk about Tommy. It's too depressing. I pull onto our street and see the detective's car in front as well as a news van. We must be going to go on the air again tonight. I pull into the driveway and wait for the garage to open. I turn the ignition and walk into the house. Detective Stanton is seated on the couch alongside Mike and I can hear Michelle in the kitchen. It looks like Adam's isn’t here.

  "Hello Mr. Smith. Please have a seat." I look at Stanton. His shirt is wrinkled, his blue pasty tie is dangling around his neck and his hair is strewn all over the place. He looks a lot different from the guy I first met at Tommy's school.

  "Hi Sheldon." Michelle sits down next to me. It's like we don’t know how to act any more. Should we touch each other, hold hands, I don’t know. What do you do when the most important part of your life is missing and probably in harm's way, or in Michelle's case not knowing whether he's even alive. I take a long look at her curled up on the couch. I don't think she has left the house since this all happened. She looks ten years older than she did before. Her hair is frizzy, her clothes aren't fresh and she has lost the gleam in her eyes I fell in love with, but I look at her and I don’t think I have ever loved her more than right now. I grab hold of her hand and squeeze it gently in mine. I watch as Stanton stands up and opens up that little notebook he always has. It looks like one right out of an old cop movie from the seventies.

  "Okay, so here's where we are now." He looks down at his notebook again. I squeeze Michelle's hand a little tighter. "After we left you at the bank, we went to the address of the teller and found her body." I gasp. I picture her face in my mind. She was petite and couldn’t have been more than thirty. "It appears she died from the results of a small caliber gunshot. Detective Adams is heading that case up."

  "Oh my God, I can’t believe this." Stanton shakes his head looking at both Michelle and me.

  I take Michelle's other hand in mine. I feel my phone begin to vibrate. I look at the number, it's Brian from work. I stand up and push the answer key.

  "Hello."

  "Hi Brian what's up?"

  "Just wanted to let you know, Jim and I have been working on who hacked the website and it looks like we have traced it back to a guy named Douglas Sorenson."

  "What?" I say so loudly both Michelle and Stanton to look at me.

  "Yeah, he actually lives locally. He's some big-time attorney. I can’t believe he would have the know-how, but I guess you never know any more."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Positive. Jim got into the web server and they ran tracers showing where all the hits came from and the ones corresponding at the same time we were hacked lead back to his home computer. Do you want us to contact the police?" I look at Stanton.


  "Not yet. Thanks so much for figuring that out."

  "No problem. We'll call you if we learn anything else." I end the call and sit down back next to Michelle.

  "What was that all about?"

  "That was Brian and he wanted to tell me he and Jim came up with a website to find Tommy." I pull up the site on my phone, Stanton tries to smile and Michelle begins to cry.

  Chapter 10

  A few hours later, Noreen and her crew have us speak into the cameras from the kitchen again. We both tearfully plead for whoever has Tommy to please let him go. Noreen and Stanton say we did a good job, but I know it isn’t going to bring him home until I do the last job, at least that's what I hope. I'm still checking my phone every few minutes to see if there are any text messages or calls, but everything has been quiet. I'm still wondering how he got the "Findtommy" website to show the hacks came from Sorenson's computer. I almost feel as though I should go to his house and let him know, but I stay at home tonight and somehow fall asleep on the couch next to Michelle. We both awake in the middle of the night when one of the officer's radios begins blaring about finding a body. Michelle begins to break down when she hears it’s a teenager. The body was found off of a small road about two miles from our house. I'm convinced it's not Tommy because I haven’t done anything, but Michelle is beside herself. I hold her tightly until her insides begin pouring out and she ends up in the bathroom. I listen as the young officer calls Stanton and Adams at their homes waking them up. I can only imagine what they are thinking. I wonder at first if they just want this case to go away and would almost be somewhat relieved if it was Tommy, but I know deep down they have spent way too many hours trying to get him back that they would not be able to live with themselves. I listen as the radio chatter comes to life in the middle of the night. I can make out most of the things that are being said, but a lot of it is in code. A minute later, the home phone rings.

  "Hello."

  "Hi Mr. Smith, this is Detective Stanton. I know that you have heard a body was found that is approximately the same age as your son. I want to let you know. I am heading over there now." I hear him take a deep breath. "I don’t think it is him, but we may need you to identify the body of it comes to that," another deep breath, "I just want to keep you aware of what may happen, but just because we call you down doesn’t mean we think it's him." I nod to myself and thank him for calling. I am by no means worried that it is him. It just can’t happen like this. The guy on the phone has too much planned out to just end it now. He wants me to do something else for him. I look up to see Michelle standing in front of me. Her face looks a faint green color and he body appears to be sagging in a very awkward position. I gently guide her onto the couch next to me and hold her tightly.

  "Who was on the phone?"

  "It was Stanton letting us know he's on the way to identify the body." She quickly wrestles away from my grip.

  "How can you talk like that?"

  "Like what?"

  She lowers her voice almost to a whisper. "That could be Tommy you're talking about, not just a body."

  I pull her back close to me. "It's not Tommy, Michelle. He's okay."

  "How do you know?" I gently wipe the tears from her face.

  "Because we would know, you said it yourself the other day. You could feel him alive and okay."

  "I don’t know anymore."

  "Don’t say that." I put my finger to her lips. "He's going to come home. I promise."

  She rubs her eyes. "I wish I knew that were true Sheldon, but it has been days. Remember Stanton said we would hear something within twenty-four hours."

  "He also said this was different, and it really is. I know he's okay. I know." I pull her tightly to my chest. I can feel her breaths tickling my throat. We remain like that for a long time until I feel my phone begin to vibrate. Michelle sits up quickly.

  "Your phone Sheldon, aren’t you going to answer it?"

  I reach into my pocket not sure what to expect when I click the "send" key.

  "Hello Sheldon. I hope you're enjoying the excitement as much as I am." I quickly stand up leaving Michelle gasping at me. I wave her off letting her know everything is okay.

  "What's going on?"

  "I don't know, but if I were you I would keep my fingers crossed."

  "Wait. Please tell me." I throw the phone on the couch when I know he's gone.

  "What? Sheldon who was that?" Michelle grabs my phone and starts clicking buttons. "There's no recent calls listed here."

  "I know. I know." I feel the heat of anger growing on my face.

  "What is it Sheldon. What is going on here?"

  I look at the police officers standing on the other side of the room. They are busy typing on laptops. "Nothing, it was another one of those stupid reporters asking me what I thought."

  She looks down at the phone again. "Why doesn't it show they called?"

  I slowly sit back down and put the phone back in my pocket. "You know how they are. They can call you, but you can’t call them." Michelle sits next me as the young officer quickly approaches us.

  "Mr. and Mrs. Smith, Detective Stanton just called. He wants one of you to identify the body." Michelle runs towards the restroom again.

  "I'll go." I stand up and check on Michelle. She is sitting on the bathroom floor leaning against the wall. I bend over and give her a kiss and whisper. "It's not him." She just waves me off. I head back out to the living room and get the address from the officer and head out to the Tahoe. As soon as I'm backing out my phone begins to vibrate again. I don’t even look at the screen. I just answer the call knowing who it is already.

  "Hello again Sheldon, I see you are on your way to identify the body."

  "Why are you doing this?" I quickly back down the driveway carefully avoiding the two police cars at the bottom.

  "Why Sheldon, I’m not doing anything. I'm just calling to let you know. The body they recovered is a thirteen year old boy with brown hair, roughly ninety pounds. Does that sound familiar?"

  "You’re a dead man. I'm serious. If this is him, I will hunt you down for the rest of my life and I will find you I promise. I thought we had a deal. I would do that last thing for you…" I realize he has already hung up. I don’t think it is Tommy, but now I’m not so sure. It seems like something has changed in his tone, but I’m not sure exactly what it is. I'm trying to keep myself positive thinking that it isn’t Tommy. I feel like I would know if it was, and I'm just not feeling anything right now except for anger. I quickly pull out of our neighborhood ignoring a stop sign. I just don’t care anymore. How much more of this can we take? It's been almost five days now. I'm not sure I have even slept at all since I got that call from Michelle at work. Everything has been a blur. The only thing that is clear in my mind is seeing Tommy sitting on that bed in that room on the video. I grab the iPhone and click on the video. I watch Tommy's glassy eyes stare into the camera, until I feel myself becoming dizzy and concentrate on the road again. I'm supposed to meet Stanton at a building. I'm guessing it's the morgue. It's down the street from the police station. I'm not really sure how I'm going to handle it if it is Tommy. I haven’t prepared myself at all for that. I'm pretty sure if it is, I won’t be coming home. I don’t know where I'll go or what will happen to me, but I feel like the world will come to an end if it is. I quickly change my mind and concentrate on what Jim and Brian said about the hacks leading to Sorenson's home PC. I decide I will stop by and talk to him again tomorrow at his office and make sure he is telling me everything. A few minutes later, I pull into the parking lot to a small non-descript two-story brick building that looks like any local Government building. There are no signs or indications that it is a morgue. I pull into the parking lot and park next to what I guess is Stanton's Crown Vic. I have difficulty taking the key out of the ignition because my hands are shaking so much, but I don’t feel sadness yet, maybe I'm in denial. I walk the short few steps on the sidewalk and open the door to what looks like a small pol
ice station. There is a thick glass window around a uniformed police officer seated behind a desk and a few chairs placed alongside the wall opposite it. I walk up to the window and get the attention of the officer. As soon as I tell him my name, Stanton appears out of a side door. He invites me back inside a large room full of cubicles.

  "Thanks for coming down Mr. Smith." He places his hand on my shoulder. "I know this isn’t what you hoped for." I nod and look around at all the empty desks.

  Stanton must have picked up on my curiosity. "This is one of our sub-stations. We use it mostly for our undercover operations or to keep the media away. I didn’t think you wanted reporters wondering where you're going."

  "Thank you." I say. "Is it here?"

  "The body?" I nod. "No. I'm just going to have you look at some pictures and if it's a positive ID. I'll take you right over if you want." I nod my head again. All of a sudden I feel the reality settling in knowing this could be the end. I try and keep that thought out of my head as I follow Stanton to a desk. I see a folder lying on it which looks like it contains pictures. I can’t believe it. I feel like turning around and running out of here and never coming back, just disappearing into something, I’m not sure what though. We arrive at the desk and Stanton sits down and indicates me to sit on the other chair.

  "How did he die?" I can’t take my eyes off the folder in his hands.

  "Let's not talk about that yet. I need you to just look at the pictures." He hands me the folder and gets up. "I'll leave you alone for a minute." I don't take my eyes off the folder. It feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. I slowly set it down on the desk and carefully open it up. Immediately, I see a piece of paper on top describing the boy. He is just as the guy on the phone told me. I wonder if it is Tommy. I don't think I can do it, but somehow my hand slowly lifts the paper off revealing the first picture. I only look at it for a second before I take my eyes off it and jump up. I run to the other side of the room where Stanton disappeared too and feel the surge of emotion overcome my body. The next thing I know, I'm on the floor and Stanton and another officer are trying to pull me to my feet.