The House That Jack Built Page 10

“Not that we can think of, detective,” Lauren said.

  “Noah did have nightmares a lot,” Steven said.

  “Well, we had just moved,” Lauren said. “The move seemed to affect him a lot. He kept dreaming the same thing over and over again.”

  I leaned over and looked at both of them. “What did he dream?”

  “Just the usual stuff. He believed a man was looking at him through the sliding doors. But it was just a nightmare. I kept telling him it was.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  May 2015

  I couldn’t stop thinking about the Kinleys when I got home and all the next day. I didn’t like that we had no trace of their son whatsoever. As the days passed, the probability of him turning up alive became smaller and smaller.

  I was going through my notes and everything on the whiteboard when Ron suddenly stormed in. He looked at me and I knew something was up.

  “They found something,” I said, while images of the Kinley’s horrified faces flickered for my eyes.

  Please don’t. Please don’t let it be Noah, God.

  Ron nodded. “A body showed up at another construction site. At the A1A just past Sixteenth Street, where they’re building those new condominiums. Let’s go!”

  We drove there with our hearts in our throats and met with Head of the Cocoa Beach Police Department, the woman we called Weasel, in front of the site. She greeted us as we stepped out of the car. “It was Yamilla who believed this would be of interest to you,” she said.

  Weasel escorted us to Yamilla. She asked us to come closer and look at what they had found. I was relieved to see it wasn’t a recently buried body. It was just bones. It couldn’t be Noah.

  “It hasn’t been in the ground as long as Scott,” Yamilla said. “But I’m guessing maybe ten years, give or take some.”

  I stared at the bones and especially the femur. I swallowed hard. It wasn’t very long. “A child?” I asked.

  Yamilla nodded. “Looks like it. I don’t know much yet. I’ll let you know when I know more,” she said.

  We let her work and drove back to the office. I stared at the whiteboard for a long time, wondering how I was supposed to crack this case open. If it turned out this was another one by the same guy that had killed Scott Kingston, then there was no way this could be Vernon. Everyone had to see that. Were we chasing a killer that had been abducting and killing small children since the eighties? Who the heck was he, and how had he managed to get away with it for this long? How many others were out there? How many more bodies were we going to find?

  The thought made me sick to my stomach.

  I decided to call it a day and drove back to my parents’ motel, grabbed my board, and jumped into the water. Nothing could clear my mind like an hour of surfing. Waves were good. The storm in the Atlantic had moved closer the last twenty-four hours and had given us some very sizable waves. My dad was watching the storm anxiously, while I enjoyed the waves it produced. The forecasters didn’t agree on what it was going to do next. Most models kept it off the coast, but a few of them had it hit right on. It was still moving closer very slowly and was threatening The Bahamas now. It was expected to make landfall there tonight. The area it covered over the Atlantic was so big we’d had rain and clouds for days now. It was so rare for Florida to have this kind of weather. I hoped Anna would continue up the coast, so it would continue to produce waves for four or five days still, and then give us off-shore winds as it continued north. That was how we surfers felt about storms. We loved them as long as they stayed in the ocean.

  My friend Tom came out to surf with me and we caught waves together for about an hour and a half. It was nice to talk about something else for a change. Noah Kinley was all that had been on my mind all day. Especially his parents. I found it hard to bear that they still hadn’t gotten their son back. I couldn’t accept the fact that I hadn’t been able to help them yet, to bring back the boy. I was so relieved that it wasn’t Noah’s body we had found on the construction site, but it still ate me up that I had no answers for them. My colleagues were looking for Noah everywhere and had had the dogs out searching the area for the third time, but still with no results. No trace of the boy.

  When we were done surfing, Tom and I grabbed a beer on my parents’ deck, while the twins threw themselves at him. My kids loved Tom and had known him since they were born.

  “So, when are you getting your new board?” he asked.

  “I checked on it a week ago,” I said. “It’s coming along, but still needs the paint job.”

  “And they’re shaping it at Swell? How come? You usually always use the same shaper.”

  I nodded. Swell was the surf shop across the street from my parent’s motel. It was owned by a guy that I had surfed with often. He had talked about shaping a board for me for a very long time.

  “I know. I made a nice deal with the owner. He’s a surfer himself. I buy so much stuff over there all the time, and a few weeks ago when I was in there, he saw me looking at one of the boards he had shaped. It was very nicely done. He told me he could make me one exactly the way I wanted it for less than four hundred. I had to try.”

  “That is very cheap,” Tom said.

  “He makes beautiful boards. Have you seen them over there? He used to be a carpenter or something; he’s very crafty with his hands. I’m pretty excited to see how it’s going to be.”

  “Will you stay for dinner, Tom?” Abigail asked and looked at him with pleading eyes.

  “Yes, Tom, stay,” I said.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  April 1980

  “Cuba is open.”

  Hector stared at his brother Raul. He had knocked on the door to Hector’s house early in the morning.

  “It’s true,” he said. “We can go get them. We can get our family. They just announced it on the radio. Castro opened the port of Mariel. Anyone can leave if they have someone to pick them up.”

  Hector couldn’t believe it. It had been eleven years since he had left Cuba and left his daughter, Isabella. Every day since, he had dreamt of holding her in his arms again. Could this really be? Was this really happening?

  “Pick them up? But how do we do that?” Hector asked.

  “We get a boat,” Raul said, grinning. “We go down south and get a boat. Then we pick them up.”

  Hector and Raul jumped in the car and headed to Miami. When they arrived, there were Cubans everywhere—just like them—trying to find a boat.

  “It’s impossible,” Raul said, discouraged by seeing the hundreds of people crowding the harbor. “There aren’t enough boats.”

  “Let’s go to Key West,” Hector said.

  The drive from Miami took six hours. They were driving in long lines all afternoon, every car packed with Cuban exiles with the same mission as Hector and Raul. Hector felt so frustrated and cursed loudly. Raul felt the irritation as well. It was hot in the car, and at the pace they were driving, they weren’t going to make it till dark. At the same time, Hector started doubting if they would be even able to find a boat. If everyone in these cars was going to try and get a boat, there wouldn’t be any left once they got down there.

  “You gotta keep the hope up, brother,” Raul said, and pressed the horn on the car for the fifteenth time. The traffic had almost stalled and they were sweating in the car. Hector leaned out the window. They had water on both sides of the car. He could see nothing but cars as far as the eye could reach.

  “Think about Isabella. Think about seeing her again.”

  Hector nodded. Raul was right. Seeing her again would be worth all of this. He was just so worried that he wasn’t going to succeed.

  The car in front of them moved and soon they were back into a little more speed. At least they were moving ahead.

  “Everything good comes to he who waits,” Raul said. “Trust me. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be holding your daughter in your arms. I promise you.”

  Hector looked at Raul. He felt like throwing up. He was so nervou
s. Not only because he feared he wouldn’t be right, but also because he feared that he was. How was Isabella going to react when seeing her father after this many years? Would she even be able to recognize him? Would she be angry with him for leaving her? Would he be able to become the father he always wanted to be?

  It was dark when they reached Key West. Just like in Miami, Cuban exiles were everywhere. They searched for a boat until it was almost midnight before they finally found one. Hector wrote the owner of the boat a check for ten thousand dollars. Just after midnight, they jumped in the boat and took off without having the slightest idea where to find their family members that they hadn’t seen in eleven years. They didn’t know if it was true—or just a rumor—that Cubans were now allowed to leave the island, or if the two of them would even be able to return to Florida again.

  All they had was their undying hope.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  May 2015

  Shannon was already so bored she had no idea what to do with herself. Dr. Stanton had told her she had to rest as much as possible, and that was all she had done all day. He had been by and checked up on her and told her she was doing much better. But she still had to stay still, probably for the rest of the pregnancy. Everything inside of her had screamed. Six more months like this!

  It had only been two days.

  The good part was, she had written two songs the last two days and played her guitar like crazy. It seemed to be the only thing that would take her mind off of worrying. She seemed to be worrying about everything, but especially the murder case. She couldn’t believe they hadn’t found that gun yet and started to fear they never would. She was also very concerned about the entire building-a-house-together-and-moving-in-project. She loved Jack’s family like crazy, but it was a lot. It was a big change for her and for Angela. And it was going to be an even bigger change once the baby arrived.

  Now, she was getting out of Jack’s condo for the first time in two days. She was going to have dinner with the rest of the family at the motel. The doctor had told her it was all right to go out and walk a little every day from now on. That was at least something.

  Shannon enjoyed letting the warm breeze hit her face when she stepped out into the sand. She walked barefooted with her shoes in her hand to the motel. She breathed in the fresh air and stared at the dark horizon where Anna was roaming. The ocean looked like an angry monster baring its teeth at her. The sky above the water was so dark it looked like it was the end of the world out there, or maybe a scene from Lord of The Rings. Maybe she had just been watching too much TV lately.

  Jack greeted her on the deck with a kiss and a hand on her stomach. “Is everything well?” he asked.

  “Everything is fine,” she said.

  “And does Dr. Stanton agree to that?”

  “Yes, Dr. Stanton agrees. He told me I can start taking walks every day now.”

  Jack smiled. His hair was still wet from being in the ocean. It fell to his face and made him look like a drowned puppy.

  “Dinner is served,” Jack’s mother said and rang the ship bell like she always did to call the children.

  Seconds later, they were everywhere. Angela hardly noticed her mother. She was way too busy with the twins. It was amazing to Shannon how fast Angela had adapted to her new family. They acted like they had known each other all their lives. Shannon felt emotional and pressed back her tears. They were coming so easily lately. Probably just the hormones.

  Jack grabbed a beer from the bar inside and returned. He brought Shannon a soda. She sat down next to him with a soft sigh. This was all good. Everything was good right at this moment. It amazed her how she didn’t even crave a drink anymore. Not since she discovered the pregnancy. Just the thought of alcohol made her feel sick.

  Jack’s friend Tom was eating with them and Shannon enjoyed having an adult conversation for once. Tom and his wife Eliza had recently decided to separate, and he really needed to talk. Shannon was happy to lend him an ear.

  “So, you guys are building a house, huh?” he said, once he had finished pouring his heart out.

  Shannon looked at Jack, who nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I just approved the floor plan today.”

  “You did?” Shannon asked, surprised.

  Jack nodded while sipping his beer.

  “You didn’t even let me in on it?” Shannon asked.

  “We didn’t make any major changes since the first draft,” he said. “I figured you had enough on your plate.”

  “I had nothing to do all day,” Shannon said. “I could easily have looked at them.”

  Jack looked perplexed. Shannon fought her anger. She didn’t like to be kept out of things. She felt like she was being treated like a child.

  “I’m sorry,” Jack said. “I thought I was helping you out.”

  Shannon inhaled, then drank from her soda. She decided to let it go. Meanwhile, Jack showed Tom the floor plan on his iPad.

  “It is going to be truly amazing,” Tom said. “I am so glad someone finally bought that old lot and didn’t care about that old story.”

  “What story is that?” Shannon asked.

  “Yeah, what story?” Jack said.

  Tom looked at their faces.

  “You don’t know?”

  “No,” Jack said.

  “I thought you knew,” Tom said. He looked at Jack. “I mean…with the case and everything.”

  “What case? What story?” Shannon asked. She felt an unease spreading fast in her body.

  “Jack’s case,” Tom said. “The kidnapping.”

  Jack frowned. “The Noah Kinley case? What are you talking about?”

  “No. The other one. Scott Kingston. It used to be their house on that land. The house that used to be on the lot was where Scott Kingston was kidnapped from. They abandoned the house when they realized he wasn’t coming back. They couldn’t live there anymore. But they couldn’t sell it either. Everyone knew the story. No one dared to buy the house where a kid was stolen in the middle of the night. So, the bank took over and later a hurricane destroyed the house. I thought you knew.”

  “Well, we didn’t,” Jack said.

  “You didn’t see the address on the old case files?” Tom asked.

  Jack shook his head. “I guess I didn’t notice.” He looked at his mother, who was sitting next to Tom. “Did you know about this?” he asked. “You did, didn’t you? Of course you did. You know everything around here.”

  His mother shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important,” she said.

  “Not important? How can it not be important?” Jack asked.

  Shannon could tell he was getting himself all worked up now. She herself didn’t know how to react. She had heard about the kidnapping from Jack, but to actually live where it happened? She wasn’t so sure she wanted that. Not that she usually was superstitious, but still. It just didn’t feel right.

  “It was so long ago, Jack,” Sherri said. “I thought it was such a shame that lot was still empty. It’s a great location. Where else in this world do you have water this close on both sides? You said so yourself. You love it here, son. What does it matter that something bad happened there almost thirty years ago?”

  Shannon didn’t say anything, but to her it mattered. It mattered a great deal.

  Chapter Forty

  May 2015

  Shannon was visibly upset and I tried hard to convince her it didn’t mean anything, that it wasn’t important for us if a boy had been kidnapped from the property almost thirty years ago. She didn’t seem to agree.

  “I can’t live in a place where kids are not safe,” she said, when we got back to the condo. “What if he returns? He hasn’t been caught yet and might just have stolen another kid here in Cocoa Beach.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter what house or property we’re in.”

  “Not an argument that helps a whole lot,” she said.

  “It has nothing to do with the place or property,” I s
aid. I didn’t understand why she was freaking out about this so badly. I mean, I was upset that no one had told us, but I had let it go right away. It wasn’t that big of a deal. But to Shannon, it was, apparently.

  “I just don’t like it, Jack. I really don’t.”

  “So, now you don’t want to build a house, after all, is that what you’re saying?” I asked.

  She sighed and threw herself on the couch. I told the kids to get ready for bed. Emily had already gone to her room and closed the door. I hadn’t talked to her all day and had planned to do so when we got home. Maybe even watch The Tonight Show with her before bedtime.

  “I don’t know what I’m saying,” Shannon said.

  I sat down next to her. “You’re tired. Maybe we should continue this talk tomorrow when we’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

  Shannon looked at me angrily.

  Uh-oh. What did I do now?

  “Please don’t talk to me like that, Jack. Please don’t patronize me. It’s bad enough you make me feel like a child by not including me in decisions. Don’t start talking to me like I’m a child too.”

  I sighed and closed my eyes. I felt so tired. Pleasing everybody was a lot of work. Shannon was very emotional right now, and there was no way she was capable of making any important decisions. I had never seen her overreact like this and blamed it on the pregnancy.

  We sat in silence for a little while. I had no idea what to say to her to not upset her further and decided to not speak at all. After about ten minutes, I got up.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “I’m going to Emily’s room to watch The Tonight Show.”

  “So, that’s it? You’re leaving in the middle of an argument?” Shannon asked.

  I sighed again. “I don’t know what to say to you. I want this house. I have dreamt of building this house all of my life. I want us to be a family. I don’t want a stupid thing like this to destroy everything.”