A Shaft of Light

by Amy Gaudette

  “Better now that I’m here.”

  A gray-haired woman opened the door for them. Sam introduced her as Rose.

  Bear greeted him as well, and Brady felt a rare rush of warmth for the big dog. He knelt down on his knees and embraced him, fur and all. “Hey, handsome dude.” Bear returned the affection.

  “No pizza for that boy. He’ll be up all night,” Rose admonished.

  Brady couldn’t help but add, “You mean me?”

  Gabe and Sam laughed. Then taking the lead, Sam said grace. Everyone but Brady added something, mostly for Megan. The air grew heavy again. Brady fought against the scowl on his face.

  Gabe started. “So, if it’s okay, let’s update. Sam, have you heard back from the hospital?”

  “Yes. William told me not to go within a mile of the hospital until I was feeling better. He has enough sick people on his hands.”

  “Well, I’m sorry you’re sick but . . . it has worked to our advantage. You better take care of yourself, though. You don’t want it turning into something major.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Gabe,” Sam joked.

  “Brady. I can’t give you any information on your dad except this, he’s okay.”

  Brady’s eyes fell to the floor. “Great. My dad disappears and my mom is in denial about everything.” Sarcasm.

  “Remember, Brady. Not everything is always as it seems. Let’s give this some time to unfold.” Gabe placed a hand on his shoulder. Sam offered reassurance as well.

  “We’re all trying our very best. Don’t get discouraged. We’re in this together.” Brady knew Sam’s attempt to encourage him was for everyone here. He offered a slight smile back. Sam took the lead. “Gabe, you have some news for us?” Everyone stopped eating.

  “Yes. Richard has been taken in for questioning. Thanks in large part to all of you. It’s nothing but circumstantial, and it won’t hold him, but it’s a start. I really don’t think he owns the police like he thought he did. The department is split on whether they should go after Richard or not. The chief says no. But so much garbage has been dug up on him, maybe not solid evidence as of yet, but enough so that it won’t look good for the chief if he doesn’t open a formal investigation. That’s good. We have a search warrant for Richard’s office, but so far no journal.”

  Gabe sighed. “We have had a few leads on Megan, but nothing has panned out. Every property that Richard owns has been checked. Every house, business, vehicle and chicken coop. Nothing.”

  A heavy silence filled the room. Rose stood up and walked to the window. Turning around she questioned, “What about his ghost properties?”

  Sam looked at Rose with a blank stare. Gabe looked up.

  “Ghost?”

  “Yes. We all know he has a second set of books. When I write a mystery novel, the antagonist often has ghost properties. Not only a second set of books, but a second level of people working for him off the books. A close, quiet, well-paid, hand-picked few that will do the dirty work for him. The bad guy also has properties in other people’s names, but behind the scenes, he owns them. He pays the taxes and expenses for them. He leverages what he has to in order to get what he wants. It’s done through a backdoor. Hidden contracts or even verbal understandings. We all know, no one double crosses the mayor.”

  Gabe nodded. “But even if he does have that, how would we possibly know where to look?”

  “You forget. I worked as one of his accountants. It may have been a long time ago. But I knew some of them. I’m willing to bet he’s kept most of them.”

  Gabe pulled up a file on his computer. “Here you go. This is the ‘legal’ side of his properties. A lakehouse. Three businesses. A few parcels of land. His house here in Piedmont. An estate in Colorado . . . see anything that stands out?”

  Rose shook her head. Many were new. A few he had owned for decades. She frowned. “Oh dear. I guess . . . not. It’s been so long. His boat isn’t on here, we know he has that. But otherwise, he . . . wait. His lakehouse? Where’s that?”

  Gabe responded, “West of here. Lake Wesserungat.”

  “Then that’s not it. He had a cabin . . . on a lake. No, it wasn’t on a lake. It bordered on a park. Thomas Park, on the north side. Way back it used to belong to his wife, now an ex-wife, but I’ll bet it’s his now. He has an obsession with owning people as well as land.”

  Gabe stood up. “I’m going to look into this right away. I’ll check back in with you all tomorrow morning. Thanks, Rose. For everything.”

  Sam turned to Rose. “Rose, we need to keep your presence here between us. I don’t want to take a chance of him getting wind that you’re here. I’m sure you’re not on his list of favorite people.”

  Rose’s worried face nodded in agreement.

  Sam continued. “I think the tide is turning. Richard is under the gun now. Tomorrow is going to be a big day.”

  Brady knew what was being said was not what was being thought. If Richard felt the pressure, and he had Megan, what might he do? And where was Dad? Whose side was he on?

  “How about we all turn in early tonight?” Sam’s suggestion was greeted with nods.

  “Well I can tell you I second the motion, unless I have more nightmares of Richard trying to get me on that boat of his.” Rose stood and said her goodnights. She kissed Brady on the head. “You come see me tomorrow, Bear would really like some run-around time in the park.”

  Rose’s comment about her dream hit Brady hard. Only Mom had been on the elusive yacht. No one else in the family. Strange. Mom never talked about it, either. In fact, Brady remembered begging her to see if Richard would let him on his boat just once. She had turned and snapped at him, “Don’t you ever go on that boat, Brady. Ever. And don’t you ever mention it again. Understand?” He never did understand, until now. It must hold secrets. Many dark secrets. What if . . .?

  “Brady?”

  “Huh?”

  “Do you want to sleep here tonight? We kept your room for you in case you do.” Sam gave him a hand up off the floor.

  “Ah . . . no, thanks. I’m going to try to talk to my mom again.”

  “Okay. I’ll give you a ride home,” Sam offered.

  “Thanks, I think I’ll walk. I need the air.” Everyone said goodnight, and Brady left.

  The night air felt refreshing. He took a deep breath and tried to see the stars. Too many lights. That was one of his favorite things about the camping trips Dad used to take them on. Seeing the brilliant lights above their heads. He would have a hard time falling asleep, wanting to hang on to the peace and quiet of the heavens above him. He would stare at them for hours. But that was a long time ago. And the campsite was not where he wanted to go now. He knew it was a longshot, but what if Megan was being held on Richard’s yacht? Very few people knew about it. Everyone would be busy tomorrow. He had a license. All he needed was a car. But what way would he drive? Where was the yacht anchored? Frustration rankled him. He had to find out.

  At his front door, Brady keyed in the code and the door unlocked. “Mom. Dad.” No answer. “Marie?” Still no one. Brady looked in the garage. His mom’s car was here. “Mom? Are you here?”

  “Up here, Brady.” A faint voice trailed down the stairs. Brady raced up to his mom’s bedroom. The door was open and a light was on, so he knocked and went in.

  She was sitting in her reading chair, a glass of wine in one hand, a tissue in the other. Her face was wet, her eyes swollen from what looked like hours of crying.

  “Mom, what’s the matter? What’s wrong?” He had never seen her like this. She was always tough as nails. It was as though a fissure had opened, and all he could see was a shadow. She had been swallowed up. Like everyone else. “Mom?”

  She finally looked at him. Her eyelids heavy. Her face dull. “He won. Like he always does. He turned the tables on your dad. Blamed him for abusing Megan, and they believed him. He’s in jail. Richard is free, and we will lose everything we have.”

  Her monotone voice and expressionless face unn
erved Brady more than anything else had. His mountain of anger and bitterness toward his mom, dad and Richard came tumbling down. He ran to his mom and fell at her feet. Grabbing her hands, he made her look him in the eyes. “This is all Richard’s fault. He’s a beast. He was the monster Megan saw in the woods. I know it. Mom, we have to find Megan. Do you know where he has her?”

  For a moment Brady was sure he had seen a brief spark emerge. But it was gone before he could coax it out.

  “Megan. My dear Megan. She was like a daughter to me.” Her voice shook.

  Brady decided to take a risk and push even harder, desperate to pull his mother out of the void. “Mom, what happened to you on the yacht? What did Richard do?”

  An almost contorted expression gripped Beverly’s face. “I told you to never talk about that.”

  “Why, Mom? I need to know. Where’s his boat? Is that where Megan is?”

  Her red-rimmed eyes lit with fire. “You stay away from there. Don’t go near his boat. There’s blood on it. No one wins when they play with Richard. We lost. We played the game, and we lost.” Her voice trailed off again. Her eyes clouded over. He stood up, staring for a brief moment at his mom.

  “I love you, Mom.” Brady kissed her on the head.

  He slowly turned to leave.

  “Bundy Harbor.”

  “What?”

  “Bundy Harbor. It’s guarded by wild jackals. They’ll shoot you first and ask questions later.”

  He turned and sprinted.

  “Brady!” His mom’s voice did nothing to slow him down.

  Downstairs, he grabbed his mom’s keys and headed to the garage.

  He thought better of doing this on his own. He needed help. He pulled the car out and headed back to the hotel. It was ten o'clock. Sam would probably be asleep. He would have to wake him and Gabe.

  Brady pulled into the parking lot and ran into the lobby. Despite the hour, he called Sam. A groggy voice answered.

  “Sam, it’s Brady. I think I know where Megan might be.” Anxious and excited, he tripped over his words.

  “What are you talking about? How could you know?”

  “I’m downstairs in the lobby. Can I come up?”

  “Uh . . . yeah. Come on. I’ll let you in.” Sam sounded disoriented. Brady almost regretted waking him.

  He pushed past Sam as he opened the door.

  Sam raked a hand through disheveled hair. “What’s up?”

  “My mom’s losing it, Sam. She was in her bedroom crying, half drunk. She kept saying, ‘You play the game with Richard, you lose.’”

  “Let’s sit down.” They moved to the couch. But as soon as they sat, Brady popped back up again. Nervously, he began pacing.

  “I think Megan may be on Richard’s boat. He calls it a yacht. Mom was on it once when I was younger and it got her real upset. I asked her to ask Richard to take me out on it and she got so mad at me I never asked again. I asked her about it again tonight — what happened on that yacht. She was so furious and told me to stay away from Richard’s boat. She wasn’t making much sense, but I asked her if Megan could be on it.”

  Brady tried to catch his breath. He sat back down again next to Sam. “I looked her right in the face. ‘Where’s his boat, Mom?’ She said, ‘Bundy Harbor’, but we’d never get in. Then she was gone again, you know? Like her mind was going.” Brady’s voice broke.

  Sam put his arm around him. “I’ll get someone over there to check on her. I have a few friends in the local hospital — a nurse who will check in on her. You did the right thing, Brady, coming over here. I’m going to call Gabe. We need a search warrant for this.”

  “But won’t that alert Richard you’re coming? What if he has his own men inside the department? Mom said Dad has been arrested and Richard is off scot-free.”

  Sam stopped. “Let’s just get Gabe in here. He’ll know what to do.”

  Ten minutes later Gabe walked in. He too, looked as though he was still half asleep. Brady told him what had happened.

  “Brady, Sam, we can’t waltz in on someone’s personal property without a proper search warrant. If we don’t do this right, it could backfire big time.”

  “But what if he gets tipped off? We might never find her.” Brady’s face darkened.

  “If we board his boat illegally, he may never be sent to jail.”

  “What matters is that we get Megan back!” Brady’s voice grew louder, more intense.

  “We need to think this through. It’s hard to believe one of the detectives doesn’t know about this yacht and where it is. We can’t afford a mistake, and we need to proceed legally. Let’s see if we can talk to your mom first thing in the morning. It doesn’t sound like she’s in any condition to talk tonight. Right now, I’ll head over to see if I can get an emergency search warrant. It’s late, I may not be able to get it until the morning. But on the upside, it’s a skeleton shift working, not many will know about it.” Gabe shifted his attention to Brady. “Give this a chance, Brady.”

  “Yeah.” His face was unreadable. “I guess I’ll head back to my mom. I’ll stay with her tonight.” Brady rose to go.

  “Do you want some company? I’d be glad to go with you.” Sam’s offer was genuine.

  “Thanks. I’m good.”

  Back out in the parking lot, Brady started out. The last place he wanted to go was home. But . . . if no one else would take a chance and save Megan, he would. Why was everyone just sitting around talking? He should have been with Megan when she went to find that rabbit for him. He let her go in alone. It wasn’t going to happen again. He was going to find her. The short drive home solidified his decision. He drove into the garage and made his plans.

  Digging around in the storage tubs, he found what he was looking for. Dad’s scuba equipment. He and Dad had scuba dived a few times. He wasn’t sure he could figure it out on his own, but he would try. Now the only problem was, where the heck was Bundy Harbor? He not only needed to find it, but be prepared to scuba dive. He had never done that without his dad.

  Brady threw everything he thought he would need in the trunk. He slipped back into the house, quite sure his mom was upstairs, and she would be asleep by now. He headed to his dad’s office, but the door was locked.

  Brady shook his head in frustration. No one ever locked this door. That meant someone was watching. Fine. Two can play at this game. He’d break in. Brady felt fire in his veins. His heart beat to a fine mixture of fear and boldness. For Megan. He ran to the garage and grabbed a flat, thin piece of wire. Shoving it in between the door and the frame, he attempted to trip the lock. Minutes passed and frustration grew.

  Brady threw down the wire and ran back into the garage. A hacksaw? He grabbed his dad’s saw and darted back. Someone could come home at any minute. He tried to slide the blade between the door and frame. It was too large.

  “Crap!” Brady felt his face heating up. An idea popped into his head. A card. Can’t you card an easy lock? He remembered reading it in one of his detective books. Quickly grabbing his lunch card from his wallet, he slid it in the crack near the doorknob. A slight bend, a little prodding, click. The door swung open.

  “Yes!” Triumphantly, Brady moved as quick as possible. Once the computer was up and running he began rotating his dad’s password letters and numbers. Nothing. Every attempt at recycling the old passwords failed. Brady felt like screaming. Dad must have changed it. Completely. Wait. There was no way his dad hadn’t hidden at least a hint somewhere. Brady jerked the top desk drawer open. A few empty notepads. A few thumb drives. Scattered change. What’s this? A picture of Megan and him throwing water at each other out at the campsite. Brady stared. We were so happy.

  The campsite! Brady punched in the address. Forwards, backwards. Nothing. He looked at the picture again. It was taken on Megan’s birthday. The address forwards and Megan’s birthdate.

  The screen opened with a list of files. Thank you, God! If you did this. Brady was ecstatic. He knew he had to work fast. Richard cou
ld have perimeter alarms going off right now. Just the thought of that made his hair stand up on end.

  He cruised through the files as fast as he could. One file was listed personal property. He clicked on it. Brady scanned down through a long list of land parcels, a few businesses, three homes, a restaurant. These had to be Richard’s. He recognized some of them from the list he had seen earlier. Wow. He sure owns a lot. His eyes fell on a restaurant’s address — 13 Login Road, Emery.

  There is no restaurant in Emery. There’s nothing in Emery.

  Emery was a small, insignificant ghost town about twenty miles north from here. Brady knew about it only because his dad’s car had broken down there a few years ago — a shortcut to try to save some time getting to a meeting. It took him an hour just to get roadside assistance and on top of that, there wasn’t even a place to get hot cup of coffee. He wasn’t very happy. All industry had died, and only about thirty-five people called that dump home. Why would Richard own a restaurant there? Especially since there wasn’t one? He couldn’t find a name for it.

  Brady did a quick Google search for Emery. Population 54. Hmmm. History of Emery. Wow, it really used to be a happening place. A school, a few stores, town hall . . . And a restaurant. Located on Bundy Harbor. I can’t believe this. Bundy Harbor. That has to be where the boat is. He pulled up a map. Sure enough. Emery was a town that sat on the edge of Cathance Lake. One of the largest lakes, as well as the deepest, in the region. How could a large property like this town not be populated? Nowadays, people flocked to waterfront. He looked back at Richard’s property file. That’s why. He owned the whole thing. Richard owned thirty square miles. Crazy. That’s why the harbor was inaccessible. You’d have to drive through land owned, and no doubt well-guarded, by the few backwoods people that lived there and were most likely all on Richard’s payroll.

  He downloaded it all anyway. Both Sam and Doug had told him not to take information that wasn’t his. But he was beyond the warnings. He would find Megan himself.

  Brady turned off the computer. Despair began to creep in. He was in over his head and he knew it. But he couldn’t tell anyone! Oh God! He cried out into the night. If you are real please show me what to do! I need to get to Megan. Please God. Protect her.