“My how you’ve grown. Where are your sisters? Where’s your mama, huh?”
Catfish wrinkled his nose in disgust and spat a wad of tobacco over into the weeds.
“Where’d that come from? You say there’s more?”
“I found them…” And then she stopped. She didn’t want Catfish to know she’d found the canoe. And she sure didn’t want him to know she’d discovered the grave. “I found them down here the other day when I came to do the wash.”
“You been feedin’ em ain’t ya. We don’t need no more mouths to feed, Liza. Don’t never feed strays.”
He had gotten to his feet by now. Before Beth had time to reply he had jerked the kitten by the scruff of her neck out of Beth’s hands. Her eyes widened in horror as he reared his arm back and slung the helpless kitten as far out into the river as he could. Beth screamed in horror and ran at him, catching him off guard. He stumbled, but caught himself before he fell. He grabbed her roughly and held her arms to keep her from clawing at his face.
“You killed him! Why did you have to kill him?” she screamed.
“If you know what’s good for you,” His breath was ragged from the struggle. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll sit down and shut up. And if you don’t, that kitten won’t be the only thing tossed in.”
His expression had changed from relaxed fisherman to crazed killer. The transformation was swift and complete. He released her, and Beth made a desperate attempt to hold back the sniffing and shaking as she weakly made her way back to the cooler where she sat for the next two hours trembling and praying. Finally, Catfish pulled the net in one more time and announced it was time to get back to the house.
They rode in silence back up the hill, and once they reached the trailer, Catfish got out and pulled the cooler over to a spot in the shade where an old wooden table sat.
“Go get a couple of them five gallon buckets and bring ‘em here. And hurry up!” He turned the buckets upside down and ordered Beth to sit.
“Now pay attention. This ain’t brain surgery.” Catfish pulled the largest catfish from the cooler. He knocked it in the head with the heavy handle end of the knife he had brought with him and laid it on its side on the table. First he scored the fish with small cuts on both sides near the back of the head. He inserted his thumb in the fish’s mouth with one hand and grabbed the skin at the score and peeled it all the way down the fish on one side. Then Catfish turned the fish over and peeled the other side clean before chopping the head off and throwing it to his dog Fetch who had wandered up. He made one final long cut the length of the fish’s belly and scooped the intestines and vital organs out with the blade of the knife.
“And there you have it. Ready for the fryin’ pan.”
His movements were swift and skilled. Beth’s stomach churned at the thought of Catfish’s promises on the day they met. She knew he would make good on them if she ever crossed him again.
Chapter 13
This Do in Remembrance
Chris put his arm around Crystal’s shoulder and smiled for the camera as Crystal’s mother took a quick picture of them before they headed over to the high school. The two had become close friends during their months of tragedy as Crystal championed Chris’ innocence to the student body. Crystal knew in her heart that Chris could not have murdered Beth; some other evil had taken her from them that winter night. All they could do now was hope and pray for her return and continue on with life as best they could. Her efforts had paid off, and the student body had once again embraced Chris as their own. They smiled weakly for the camera.
“Don’t you two look stunning tonight,” remarked Crystal’s mom.
Crystal’s hair was pulled back in a tight French braid. Loose tendrils of auburn framed the small pixie face, and she smiled broadly while lifting the hem of her purple satin gown and tiptoed to the car, careful not to let her heels dig into the lawn.
“You clean up good Chris.”
“Actually I was thinking the same thing about you, Crys.”
“You both look marvelous. Have a good time, dear,” she said as she pecked Crystal on the cheek. “Be home by midnight. And behave yourselves.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Barnes, I’ll have her home early.” Chris wondered if Mrs. Barnes was worried about letting her daughter go out with someone under such a great cloud of suspicion. He wanted to reassure her he was not a monster. He wanted to let her know that there was no way he would hurt Crystal.
Then, Mrs. Barnes, seeing the worry in Chris’s face, drew him to her and hugged him tight.
“I know she will be safe with you, son. I know you had nothing to do with Beth’s disappearance. I knew it from Day One. Now, go have fun.”
After they got in the car, Chris turned to Crystal. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. Mrs. Barnes was smiling and waving good-bye to them as they drove away.
“How can your mom be so certain that you’re safe with me after all that’s happened?”
“Chris, mom has a way of knowing things that other people don’t. Trust me, if she thought for one minute you were involved in Beth’s disappearance, I wouldn’t be here. She prays for you and your family every night when she prays for Beth and her family. I think that is what has gotten us this far.”
“I wish my mom was a little more like her, then. Mom still questions me about that night. I can’t believe she would suspect her own son.” Crystal laid her hand over Chris’s.
“We’ll find her, Chris. And then everyone will know. We’ll find her, and she’ll tell us where she’s been all these months.”
“I wish I could believe that. But it’s hard for me to hope for the fairytale ending. It’s been so long.”
“I know...” Crystal’s voice trailed off as the car pulled into the parking lot of the high school. Chris came around the side of the mustang and opened the door. Crystal put her delicate arm in the crook of Chris’s arm and together they held their heads high and entered the gymnasium where they were met by a throng of teens in ball gowns and tuxedos.
Bright primary- colored balloons arched the entryway to the gymnasium, which had been transformed by many hours of labor into a giant ballroom. Lace topped tables were grouped around the outer edges of the dance floor with blue and yellow balloon centerpieces. Shiny confetti was strewn about on the floor and tabletops; a strobe light spun in mid-air from the ceiling. To the left were the buffet tables laden with finger foods, desserts, and punch. A huge banner graced the right wall that read, “Memories in the Making.”
The Prom King and Queen’s table was set on stage in a place of honor. Chris and Beth had been elected for the honors this year. Everyone agreed that Beth would hold the honor, and Crystal would hold her place by proxy. A large eight by ten photo of Elizabeth sat in a gold frame facing the audience surrounded by several low candles. Chris had to struggle to keep the tears back as he took his place at the table. Crystal dabbed at her eyes, but the tears refused to stay hidden.
“It’s okay, Crys. You still look beautiful. Beth would be so proud to know you held her spot for her. I’ve got to get myself together. There’s something I have to do.”
“What’s that?” Crystal said, still sniffling.
“You’ll see,” he answered as he made his way to the microphone at center stage.
“Attention, everyone. Welcome to North Side High School, Prom 2006.” Cheers and whistles erupted from the crowd below. “Before we get started tonight with all the festivities, I, as Prom King, have a special dedication for my Prom Queen, Elizabeth Merriweather.” His voice began to crack as he choked back the emotion in his voice. Silence filled the hall.
“Beth, I know you’re still with us. I know you’re out there alive somewhere. Please come home. Your friends miss you. I miss you. We all love you, Beth. This is for you.”
Chris nodded at the DJ who had been let in on the secret. The soft music began as Chris urged the crowd to find someone special to share the dance with. Crystal sat at the table b
ehind Chris with admiring tears brimming from her eyes as Chris began to sing the words to “Miss You Like Crazy.” When the song ended, there was a half-second pause, and then thunderous applause erupted as Chris returned to the table and held out his hand to Crystal. They made their way to the dance floor arm in arm. The d-jay, sensing a need for some relief from the tension, cued a fast paced song and announced jovially, “Let’s get this party started!”
Tears flowed freely again on graduation day as the students filed to their seats leaving an empty seat for Elizabeth. Her name was called out with all the other seniors, even though she technically lacked nearly a whole semester of school. Beth’s parents accepted her diploma on her behalf, along with the three scholarships she had been awarded and the various school awards. A representative from Union University made the presentation of the scholarships and informed the crowd and Beth’s parents that the scholarships would stand awarded to her, and that if, for any reason, Beth did not use the scholarships, or choose to use them, John and Carolyn could decide on whom to bestow the funds at a later date.
When the final prayer was given, shouts of jubilation pierced the night and two hundred silk hats went flying up toward the evening sky, illuminated in their ascent by the stadium lights. Chris bent to pick his hat up from the ground, and with a deep sigh he brushed the dirt from its tassel. Overwhelmed with all the emotions of the night’s events, Chris mumbled in quiet reflection, “One of these should have been yours...”
Chapter 14
Hope Deferred
June 2006
In the weeks that followed the backpack discovery, John and Carolyn managed to raise the reward amount to $250,000 by getting a second mortgage on their home and selling some of their luxuries like the fishing boat in the garage. John knew he would never be able to enjoy fishing again anyway, and nothing was more important than finding out what had happened to his little girl. Against the advice of the police, they contacted the media and arranged to have a press conference detailing the new reward.
“If anyone out there has information leading to the whereabouts of our daughter, Elizabeth Merriweather, please, please come forward. You can remain anonymous and still collect the reward if our daughter is found, dead or alive. We just want the information. Please, please help us find her. If you are holding her hostage, contact us to arrange for the ransom money to be delivered in exchange for our daughter. Elizabeth, if you are watching, we love you. We want you to come home. We want you and our grandchild. We don’t care where you’ve been or what you’ve done. Just come home to us. We love you.”
They were not prepared for the chaos that followed in June. Leads came pouring in from all over the country, and a few from outside the country, further raising the Merriweather’s hopes that their daughter was, indeed, still alive. There were so many new leads that the police were having a hard time following up on them all. The hotline they had set up rang constantly. Each time it was someone claiming to have seen Elizabeth in their neighborhood, at a convenience store, hitch hiking through the mountains, or shopping for groceries. Volunteers were brought in to man the phones and take down crucial contact information so that the police could follow up each lead.
The investigator was brutally honest when he spoke to John about the case. He was not jubilant, as John expected, but rather somber.
“You realize that the money has brought out every crazy in the woodwork, don’t you John. You may have slowed the investigation to a crawl.”
“I don’t see it that way. At least we’re getting leads. Just because you guys have to do a bit of work to keep up, that’s not my fault.”
“John, we don’t have the manpower to keep up the pace. As harsh as it sounds, your case is not our only case.”
“What are you saying? That you won’t follow up on these leads?”
“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying that we will do our best, but we have other cases to work. Don’t expect too much is all.”
“I fully expect you to follow up on each and every lead as if it were the one to bring my girl home. Do you understand?”
“I understand. As long as you understand, John, that raising the reward money does not guarantee we’ll find her.”
“I’m fully aware of that. Now get back to work finding my daughter.”
“There are at least three very promising leads I need you to be informed of, John. Two we can follow up on. The third is out of our jurisdiction. Out of the country even. There’s a mountain of red tape involved. There’s a chance your daughter might have been sold into a prostitution ring in the Caribbean. A tourist claims to have seen a young blonde fitting her description in the straw market in Montego Bay, Jamaica. She was obviously pregnant, and she fit the description. Her hair was braided, and she was soliciting tourists for sex and was in the company of a tall Rastafarian native wearing dreadlocks and a rainbow-colored toboggan. We have no jurisdiction in the British Isles, but we are considering sending a private investigative team down there under the auspices of tourism.”
“I’m going. I have to go. Carolyn and I will get a flight out tomorrow.”
“Don’t go flying off on a whim, John. Let the professionals handle this.”
“I can’t just sit by and let my daughter be held captive on some West Indies island. If it’s her, I’m bringing her home.”
“You will just attract more media attention John. It could scare her captors. You could be endangering her.”
“Then I will just have to go undercover, won’t I?”
“I can’t say as I blame you John. You do what you have to do. But be careful. It’s a different world. Take some protection with you. Take the professional team with you, John. You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”
“Ok, you’re right. Give me their contact info. I’ll arrange for us all to go down together.”
“The team is AriesOne. They have experience with investigating crimes like this. But they specialize in finding bodies. Either way, you’re in good hands. I trust them. Give me a couple of days, John. We’ll set it all up for you. If you must go, this will give you time to get your things together and get your business taken care of here.”
“Fine. Let me know as soon as you have the arrangements. And while we’re gone, I expect you to follow up on those other two leads, in case this doesn’t pan out. We’re going to find her. I can feel it. My daughter’s not dead.”
“I sincerely hope you do find her John. We all could use a happy ending to this one.”
It was a balmy 85 degrees when AirJamaica touched down on the short Montego Bay runway on Memorial Day. The aquamarine Caribbean water rushed up to meet them, the Blue Mountains blurring past the windows as the plane screeched to a halt. Airport workers rolled temporary steps up to the doorway, and the passengers descended onto the airport pavement. John and Carolyn stepped off first, followed by three middle-aged men in short sleeves. They were greeted in the lobby by lovely ladies passing out Jamaican rum and dancing to the strains of Reggae.
“Welcome to Jamaica, mon,” they nodded.
The airport was hot and sweaty, and they spent an hour waiting for their luggage. Finally they retrieved their baggage and made their way to an airport van that was to take them to their hotel. They passed vibrant flowering plants and palm trees that swayed in the breeze. Carolyn studied every face of every person she passed. It was a small island. She would scour every square inch of it if she had to. She would find the Rastafarian with the rainbow toboggan and dreadlocks down his back. She would find him. And then she would find her daughter.
The van took rattled along the street. It wound its way along the bay, offering breathtaking views of the sunset that was upon them. They were behind a slow moving vehicle, but not for long. The driver honked his horn two short honks, and then proceeded to pass on the hill. Carolyn held her breath and prayed. The driver noticed her in his mirror.
“No worries, Mum. It’s the way of life here. I get you there safe and sound Mum.” But by
the looks of the van, the obvious rusted dents in the front and back bumpers, Carolyn had to doubt his optimism. She was grateful when the van finally pulled up in front of their hotel. She had breathed diesel the entire way, and was feeling a bit nauseous from the reckless drive. John steadied her as they exited the van.
“Let’s get checked in, hon. We’ll start the search tomorrow.”
“We have to find her John. We’ve come all this way. I can’t face another disappointment.”
“We’ll find her, honey, we will.” Then John turned to the three men that had arrived with them.
“We’d like to freshen up a bit, get cleaned up for supper. How about we meet in the lobby at 6:00 to discuss our plan of action?”
“That will be fine, John. We want you to know we’re going to do everything in our power to help you find Beth. If she is on the island, we will find her.”
“I so appreciate your agreeing to help out with the search. Her mother and I are encouraged by this new lead.”
“Never give up hope, John. We have seen some happy endings. You might just get your miracle.”
“We do believe in miracles. We have hope in God. See you at 6:00.”
They made their way to their ocean view room and unpacked. Carolyn had brought a week’s worth of clothing with her, unsure of how long it might take to find her daughter. She sat down on the bed and faced the patio doors. She looked out toward the ocean. This was paradise. This was a place for honeymooners and vacationers. It was inconceivable to her that someone could have kidnapped her only child and brought her here to exploit her body. If that was truly the case, then what would they do to her when they realized she was pregnant? None of it fit. Still, there was the lead that had come in. Was it a red herring? Had someone deliberately lured them to Jamaica to turn their attention away from the local search? Maybe it was someone else’s little girl in trouble.
From Pharaoh's Hand Page 9