The House That Jack Built Page 14

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  May 2015

  Shannon walked across the sand, looking at the dark clouds on the horizon. She had just watched the local news, which was all about Tropical Storm Anna. She spotted Angela playing in the dunes with the twins. Angela saw her, then signaled for her to be quiet. Shannon realized they were playing hide and go seek and decided she could hug her daughter later.

  She whistled the tune to the new song she had been working on the past couple of days, when she spotted Jack on the deck of the motel with his mother. They seemed to be in a deep conversation. He looked serious, but his face lit up when he saw her. He waved and she approached them.

  Shannon kissed her future mother-in-law on the cheek and her future husband on the mouth. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Why the serious faces?”

  “It’s Emily,” Jack said. “I’m worried about her.”

  “Is she still not eating?”

  Jack shook his head. “I saw her today skipping class to go to the gym and work out. I think she is deliberately trying to lose weight.”

  “That’s bad. We need to get her professional help,” Shannon said.” Before it goes too far.”

  Jack went quiet. It seemed like he didn’t agree.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t trust those kinds of people much. They’ll only give her medicine, and that’s not what she needs.”

  “But this is serious, Jack,” Shannon said. “She needs help.”

  Jack and his mother both went quiet. Shannon knew it was hard for relatives to accept the fact that someone in their family was seriously ill and needed help. She wondered if she had gone too far, if she had somehow overstepped their boundaries. The atmosphere was unpleasant. Shannon felt like she had to say something to make things better. She picked the ring out of her pocket and held it in the air.

  “Look what we found at our lot,” she said and showed it to Sherri.

  “It’s tortoiseshell,” Jack said. “Shannon took it to the jewelry store and they told her it was illegal.”

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Shannon asked.

  Sherri studied it closely. “Armando?” she said, and looked surprised at Shannon.

  “Yes. Sounds Spanish right? We thought it might be Cuban, since using tortoiseshell for jewelry is common in Cuba. Interesting, right?”

  Sherri frowned. “Armando is Vernon’s birth name,” she mumbled.

  Shannon stared at Jack, then at Sherri.

  “What do you mean?” Jack asked.

  “Vernon was originally born Armando, so was his father and his father before him. It’s a family name.”

  Jack looked confused. “So, his name is really Armando?”

  “Yes. After his father. Armando Jesus Castro García. It was a family name, but his mother changed it when they came to the States.”

  “So, Vernon Johnson is from Cuba?” Jack asked.

  “Yes. He came here during the Mariel boatlift in 1980. But there was so much hatred against the Cubans back then, so his mother decided to change the name to make it easier on them, to be able to get a job and a new life. Say, do you think this may be his ring?”

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  May 2015

  Vernon felt anxious. Sherri had called and asked him to come down to the motel and meet her family. She had something she wanted to show him, she’d said. Something important.

  Vernon jumped on the bus and sat by the window as it drove over the bridges taking him to the islands, wondering what it could be that was so important. He wasn’t too fond of the idea of meeting her son. He was a detective with the Sheriff’s Department and it was his colleagues that constantly came knocking and asking him questions about the disappearance of that boy, Noah Kinley.

  Vernon had followed the case on TV closely, and every time they talked about it, his name was mentioned in connection to the case and every time they had talked about the similarities to the old case from ’86, the one Vernon had been imprisoned for.

  It was like it was happening all over again. When Noah had gone missing, it was just like the first time. The police had been at his doorstep the very next day asking him all these nasty questions. Later that same day, they had taken him in. They had cuffed him again and Vernon had cried and pleaded for them to leave him alone. His mother had seen it and she too had feared it was happening all over again. For hours, they had kept him in custody, asking him questions over and over again.

  “Where is Noah? What did you do to him?”

  Over and over again. He had felt so tired in the end, he had almost told them he had done it, just to make them leave him alone.

  But, luckily, they had suddenly released him. He had gone home to his mother, who had been on the couch, crying since he’d been taken in. She hadn’t shown up for her job at Publix, and later they called and told her she was fired. Vernon’s mother had been devastated. Her job was her everything.

  She had looked at him with big tearful eyes.

  “Did you do it?”

  Vernon looked surprised at his mother. “What do you mean did I do it?”

  She threw a cushion at him. “Did you do it, damn it? Did you kill that kid? Did you take that second one? Did you kill him too?”

  Vernon had stared at his mother in complete shock. He had been so sure his mother believed in his innocence.

  “I can’t believe you would even ask that.”

  The next day, he had moved out. He had bought a condo on the water in Titusville with some of his money. His mother kept saying how sorry she was, but Vernon didn’t believe her. Just like the rest of the world, she believed he was guilty. Deep down, she believed it, and that was enough for him.

  Vernon went to the door as his stop came closer. He got out and walked towards the motel. He looked forward to seeing Sherri again. He enjoyed her company. So far, she was the only one who had stuck by him and kept believing in him through it all. Even when they started to accuse him the second time around.

  “Vernon!” Sherri came down the street to meet him. She opened her arms and gave him a big hug. Vernon closed his eyes and enjoyed the closeness. He hadn’t been very close to another human being much during his years in jail. It felt strange for him to hold her in his arms. Strangely wonderful.

  “I’m so glad you came,” she said. “Come, meet my son.”

  Vernon smiled, then let her drag him towards the deck of the motel. Vernon recognized them both from the magazines. Shannon King was even more beautiful in real life.

  “It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. King,” he said.

  “Vernon, meet my son, Jack. Jack, this is Vernon,” Sherri said.

  “Nice to meet you,” Vernon said and reached out his hand.

  Jack Ryder took it a little reluctantly. In his eyes, Vernon saw the same suspicious look that every one else seemed to have. Except Sherri.

  “Sit down, Vernon,” Sherri said. “I’ll get you a beer.”

  “Oh, I don’t drink, Miss Sherri,” Vernon said. “Just water will be fine.”

  Sherri brought water for all of them and they sat down on the wooden furniture. Vernon loved the motel and fully understood why Sherri loved it here. It had such a quiet charm to it.

  “So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Vernon asked nervously. He felt like Jack Ryder was supervising his every move.

  “Show him,” Sherri said, addressed to Shannon King. The famous country singer put her hand in her pocket and pulled something out. She showed it to Vernon. He stopped breathing. Everything inside of him froze to ice. He took it in his hand, then looked at the engraving. He couldn’t believe it.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “You know it?” Jack asked.

  “Are you kidding me?” Vernon said, his voice trembling heavily. “It belonged to my father. I haven’t seen it since I was fifteen years old.”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  May 2015

  Vernon Johnson was crying. He was sitting on my parent’s deck and c
rying. I had no idea how to cope with it. I didn’t like the guy, for some reason, maybe because he had spent so much time with my mother and I felt jealous for my dad.

  My mom put her arm around him, and that made everything turn inside of me. My dad was in the back working on the pool pump that had broken, and here she was holding someone else. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help feeling upset about it.

  “He used to always wear this ring,” Vernon said.

  “What happened to him?” My mom asked. “You never spoke of him?”

  “He was taken away from us,” Vernon said. “They took him one day. “

  “Who did?” My mom asked.

  “Castro’s soldiers. They put him in prison. We never heard from him again. When Castro decided to open the harbor of Mariel to anyone who wanted to leave, my mother decided it was time for us to go. We didn’t have any relatives come to pick us up, but we paid someone to take us with them. Cost us everything we had, but it was worth it. We had to get away. My dad had been gone for seven years by then, and we knew we would never see him again.”

  “Why was he taken to jail?” I asked.

  Vernon shrugged. “So many were imprisoned because they spoke up against the regime.” Vernon paused and looked at the ring. “Where did you find it?”

  “Two blocks down there is an empty lot,” Shannon said. “We just bought it and we’re building a house on the grounds. We found it in the soil where the former house had been.”

  “You mean the ground where the Kingston’s old house was?” Vernon asked. He sounded surprised.

  “Yes. Kind of strange, isn’t it?” I asked. “So, how do you figure it ended up there?”

  “I…I…I have absolutely no idea,” he said, sounding all of a sudden nervous. “Can I keep it, though? It’s my only memory of my dad.”

  “I think we might need to hold on to it for a little while longer,” I said. “While the investigation is still going on. I’ll make sure you get it once we’re done.”

  Vernon looked anxious. Small pearls of sweat appeared on his upper lip. He wiped them away with the back of his hand.

  “Okay. That’s okay,” he said and handed it back to me.

  “Jack!” My mother said. “It’s the man’s only memory of his father.”

  “I’m sorry. But I need to keep it for the investigation.”

  “Now you’re just being a bully.”

  My mother got up and walked to Vernon. “Come. Let me take you home.”

  Vernon got up. He looked at me defiantly. I didn’t know what it was, but I really didn’t like the guy. He looked at me angrily.

  “I can find my own way home, thank you, Miss Sherri,” he said. “Good day.”

  He turned around and walked away. My mom looked at me angrily. “Look at what you did. Don’t you think he has been through enough? Can’t you show a guy some mercy?”

  I stared at Vernon as he disappeared around the corner of the building. I started to feel a little guilty. But I only did what I had to, I told myself. Maybe it wasn’t nice of me, but something told me this ring was important.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  May 2015

  The constant banging on the lid of the box ceased all of a sudden, and then there was nothing but quiet. At first, Noah enjoyed that he could finally sleep, enjoyed the peace and calm in his mind from days of insomnia because of the noise. But soon, another well-known emotion made its entrance. With the quiet came the fear. Where had his guardian gone? Was he all alone now? Would he come back? Had he grown tired of his games and left him to rot inside the box? Would Noah die in the box?

  Noah Kinley tried to accept the fact that death was closing in on him. He was lying silently in the box waiting for his body to simply give up. His tiredness had put a damper on the hunger and thirst, and even though he was still only a child, Noah knew perfectly well that his body wasn’t going to take much more of this. His back was hurting constantly from the beatings he had to endure, and his head was throbbing with pain from the lack of sleep and water.

  He was cold in the box. Constantly freezing. The lack of nutrition had sucked him dry and he was only skin and bones and couldn’t keep his body warm enough.

  It had been days since the lid was last lifted and Noah taken out to eat and go to the bathroom. At least he thought it was. He couldn’t distinguish between night and day anymore. All there was, was darkness.

  “What do you want from me!” he screamed into the darkness when he felt the strength for it. But there would be no answer. Every now and then, he cried. Cried when he thought about his parents, wondering if they were looking for him, if they were worried and sad. Wondering why they hadn’t found him yet.

  “I want my mommy! I want to go home!”

  He had thought his eyes would eventually get used to the darkness, that he would be able to see something like he used to in his bedroom at home, but it never happened. It was like he had gone blind.

  He tried to remember his mother’s gentle smile, to recall little details that he used to love when looking at her. The mole on her upper lip that moved when she spoke. The vein in her forehead that popped out when she was angry with him. Her ears. Her ears that were uneven on each side of her head.

  Noah no longer cared that he peed himself in the box. It had become more and more rare that he had to go anyway, and if he did, he just let it happen. The smell didn’t even bother him anymore.

  Noah tried to count the seconds and minutes to be able to determine when a day had gone by. But it was in vain. He had lost the will to keep trying to pretend like he was alive.

  He had lost hope.

  Just as he thought he would never get out of the box again, the lid was opened and light entered. It hurt his eyes and he had to squint. Arms pulled him out of the box and dragged him across the ground. Noah tried to fight, but his guard was too strong.

  “Let me go. Let me go home!” he yelled.

  He was thrown into another barren room lit up by bright fluorescent lights. He landed on the bare cold floor, his naked body throbbing in pain from being locked in the same position for days. Before he could manage to get up, the door was closed behind him. The light was so bright it felt like an explosion of white suns, and he had to close his eyes and cover them with his hand. It was like the light pierced through his retinas and sent waves of pain into his head. Noah crouched in the corner of the room and pulled his knees up to hide his head in them. His eyes hurt so badly from the bright light.

  “Please, turn it off,” he whispered feebly.

  He felt so tired, all he wanted was to lie down onto the cold floor and fall asleep. But the bright light made it impossible for him to sleep. It pierced painfully through his eyelids and hurt him.

  “Please, turn it off,” he yelled, even though he knew it wouldn’t help. “Please, turn the lights off!”

  Chapter Sixty

  May 2015

  “What’s going on?”

  My dad had entered the deck and looked at all of us. My mom hadn’t spoken a word to me since the incident with Vernon. She was looking at me angrily. My dad stood with a wrench in his hand, his shirt soaked with sweat.

  My mom shook her head. “Nothing,” she said, walked past my dad into the motel. I felt awful. In less than an hour, I had managed to severely anger two of the women in my life.

  “Jack?” my dad asked.

  “It’s nothing, Dad.”

  I didn’t want him to know what had happened. He felt threatened by this Vernon enough as it was. He looked confused, then wiped sweat from his forehead. “Well, then, if it’s nothing, then I think I’ll jump in the ocean. Tell your mom the pool is up and running again when she gets back out here.”

  I looked at Shannon. I could tell she felt uncomfortable. I sat next to her and put my arm around her. I pulled her closer and kissed her.

  “Do you want to go back to the condo and get some take-out instead?” she asked.

  “Nah, my mom will be herself in a little whil
e. Don’t worry. She can never stay mad at me for very long.”

  We sat on the bench and looked over the ocean where my dad was soon walking out in the waves.

  “She’s gaining strength, they say,” Shannon said and leaned her back on me.

  “Who? Anna?”

  “Yes. I watched it on the news before I got here. She’s growing.”

  “I don’t think we’ve ever had a storm stay out there this long,” I said. “Usually they pass in a few days…maybe a week, but it has been on its way for at least two weeks now. It has stalled for the past days, moving very slowly while growing bigger and more powerful.”

  I thought about the storm and then about Noah Kinley, who had disappeared right before the storm had started to build in the Atlantic. I wondered if he was still alive somewhere around here after two weeks. Did the killer keep him alive like he had done to Scott and Jordan? Why? He had the power to kill them whenever he wanted to. Was it because he enjoyed it? Did he get off in some weird satisfaction by keeping them alive? Was it a power trip?

  My dad returned with a satisfied look on his face. “That was just what I needed,” he said with a deep sigh. Like me, he loved being in the ocean. It didn’t matter if I was in the water or on a surfboard or even on a boat. The ocean was my element. It was where I belonged.

  “Did you have fun out there this afternoon?” my dad asked and wiped himself with a towel.

  “It was okay,” I said. “Waves have been building to a good size, but the wind kind of messes it up.”

  “I figured,” my dad said.

  My dad used to be a surfer when he was younger. I knew he dreamed about going out there again, but his knees couldn’t take it. After two knee surgeries, he was told by his doctor he couldn’t surf anymore. I felt bad for him. I dreaded the day I couldn’t surf anymore.

  My dad sighed with contentment.

  “Well, better get dressed before dinnertime.”

  My dad left us and I smiled and looked at Shannon. I kissed the top of her head and held her body close to mine. It felt good to sit here. To be close to her. I wondered what I would do if she ended up going to jail. I simply couldn’t bear the thought.