The House That Jack Built Read online

  I reached down and touched her belly and thought about the baby growing in there. I couldn’t wait to hold him or her in my arms. It was strange how I, not so long ago, had thought it was over for me, that I wasn’t going to have another baby, and didn’t feel sad about it at all…how I suddenly longed to hold a baby in my arms again.

  Speaking of babies, I spotted Abigail and Angela walking up from the beach, and I waved at them. “Hi guys. Dinner is almost ready. Where is Austin?”

  Abigail looked at me with wide eyes. I hadn’t noticed before, but now I did. Her eyes were torn in fear.

  “We can’t find him, Dad. We’ve looked everywhere.”

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Cuba, April 1980

  They were packing his boat, cramming people in it. Hector could do nothing but watch as more than two hundred people were being loaded onto the old 70-foot fishing boat by the soldiers. Hector didn’t understand where all those people had come from. They hadn’t been among the ones waiting at the harbor. They didn’t look like ordinary people. Many of them were toothless and their clothing looked like they were beggars.

  There was nothing Hector could do, even though he didn’t feel comfortable about this. The general had promised him that he and his brother, who was wanted by the police, would be able to leave the island if they promised to never return and if they took a bunch of refugees with them.

  It was either that or Cuban prison, where they would probably die. Hector had accepted the terms, and now they were loading the many people onboard. Hector looked terrified at how deep the boat lay in the water with the heavy load and wondered if they would even be able to make it across the ocean to the coast of Florida.

  “We can’t take anymore,” Raul said, as another batch of people were being lined up. He looked at Hector. “The boat is going to sink.”

  “I know. But we don’t have a choice,” Hector said. “This is our only chance to get out of here.”

  Raul knew he was right and stopped arguing. Soon, the General loaded the last passenger onto the fishing boat, then grinning from ear to ear, told them they could leave Cuba.

  “Safe travels,” he said with a chuckle.

  With their hearts in their throats, they started up the old engine and left the harbor of Mariel. The weather seemed to be with them. Clear blue skies and the ocean as calm as possible. It gave them hope. The boat could sail, and soon they saw the harbor disappear in the distance. They went slowly, but steadily ahead. As soon as the coast of Cuba was far behind them, Hector and Raul breathed in a sigh of relief and looked at each other. They hugged once and laughed.

  “We did it. We made it out,” Raul said. “Again!”

  “Not many can say that,” Hector replied.

  In front of them was nothing but the endless ocean, and soon behind them as well. They were happy to see Cuba go, more than happy, exalted even, but none of them could escape the anxiety that nagged on the inside.

  What if we don’t make it to land?

  The boat was sailing steadily, but they could tell the engine was struggling with the weight. The people were closely crammed, and soon a fight broke out between two of the men.

  Hector and Raul looked at one another, not knowing what to do. The fight continued. The two guys fighting were struggling, and suddenly, one of them was thrown over the railing by the other. Hector gasped and looked to Raul. Raul elbowed through the crowd to the railing and looked down. Hector followed him. The man who had been thrown overboard didn’t know how to swim, and seconds later, he disappeared and went straight to the bottom.

  “We have to do something! The guy is drowning,” Hector yelled and looked at Raul.

  Raul turned to stare at their passengers, then he shook his head. Hector turned and looked at them as well. That was when he realized. These weren’t ordinary refugees. These weren’t people waiting to see their family on the coast of Florida. These weren’t families with children and grandparents looking for a new and better life.

  These were the unwanted people. The undesirables. These were the ones not even Cuba wanted to keep.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  May 2015

  “AUSTIIIN!”

  I was yelling his name at the top of my lungs as I ran across the dunes, looking everywhere for my son. In the distance, I could hear my family calling his name as well. We had been everywhere. The beach, the area around my condominium, our condo building, the basement underneath, my parents’ motel, the pool-area. Everywhere.

  And still, he was nowhere to be seen.

  “Austiiiin!”

  All kinds of scenarios went across my mind. I pictured him going in the ocean and drowning. But, then again, Austin was an excellent swimmer. He was a surfer, even though he didn’t enjoy it much, he still knew the ocean.

  I pictured him walking into the street behind my parents’ motel and being hit by a car. But when I went down there, there was nothing. I walked up and down the road to see if he had been hit and was lying helpless somewhere, but didn’t see anything. I even crossed A1A and walked to the houses on the other side. It was mostly condominiums and townhouses. I walked in and out of their areas yelling his name and down to the Intracoastal River to see if he was hiding anywhere down there or maybe had fallen in the water.

  But he wasn’t there either.

  They had been playing hide and go seek when he disappeared, Abigail had told me. Austin had hid in the dunes close to our condominium, she was certain. But when she went to look for him, he wasn’t there. She and Angela had then been looking all over the beach for him, but with no luck.

  “Maybe we should call for help,” Shannon said, as I returned to the motel where everyone was waiting, looking at me for answers. But I didn’t have any. I had no idea what to do. I grabbed my phone and called Ron.

  “I’ll have a search team at your place within the hour,” Ron said. “Dogs and everything.”

  “Thanks, Ron.”

  I hung up and looked at my family. My heart was racing in my chest and I found it hard to breathe properly. I was so anxious and angry at the same time. I looked at my mother.

  “What’s Vernon’s number?” I asked.

  My mother looked at me and shook her head. “No, Jack. No. It’s not him. He didn’t take Austin.”

  “I think I need to be sure first,” I said. “Come to think of it. I don’t need his number. I’ll go directly to his place and search it myself.”

  “Don’t, Jack,” my mother said. “You’re all worked up. Why would Vernon take Austin, huh?”

  “I don’t know. To get back at me, maybe? Because he is mad that he never got to be with you, I don’t know. I guess I don’t care why right now. All I care about is getting Austin back home in one piece.”

  My mother grabbed my arm and pulled it. “It’s not him, Jack. He didn’t do it. He is innocent.”

  “I think I’ll be the one to determine that,” I said, and pulled myself free. I walked to my Jeep, jumped in, and drove off. I called Beth and asked her to find Vernon’s address for me.

  “Ron called,” she said. “I am so sorry, Jack. I was just on my way down to join the search team. I’ll call you back as soon as I have the address. Do you want me to go with you?”

  “No, I’ll do this alone,” I said. “Besides, I’m already leaving Cocoa Beach.”

  “Just don’t do anything you’ll regret, Jack. You hear me? Jack?”

  I heard her. I just couldn’t promise anything.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  May 2015

  “Where is he?”

  I looked at Vernon Johnson, who was standing in the door to his apartment. He looked surprised.

  “Jack? What’s going on?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know,” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “My son. Where is my son? Where is Austin? I know you have him. Austiin?” I called through the door.

  I tried to walk in, but Vernon blocked my way. “You know what? I’m ge
tting pretty tired of you people coming here, constantly accusing me of all these things. I am a free man. I was acquitted, remember? The judge let me go.”

  “Doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Just that they don’t have enough evidence. I don’t know how you did it, but I want my son back.”

  Vernon shook his head. “I don’t have him.”

  “I want to see for myself. I want to go in and see,” I said.

  Vernon shook his head. “No can do. I’m done being the nice guy here. If you want in, you go get a warrant.”

  I felt the blood boil in my veins. I felt like taking my gun out and just shooting him in the leg or shoulder and making up a story later. But that wasn’t me. That wasn’t who I was.

  “How do you believe I would have done it, huh, Detective? I was in jail when Scott Kingston was killed and buried, I was in jail when Jordan Turner was abducted and killed. You know I’m innocent. There’s no way I could have done any of these kills. I served my time for something I didn’t even do. And now you won’t leave me alone? I am still in prison. I am still being a suspect in yours and everyone else’s eyes. I can’t even go to the store and buy groceries without people whispering behind my back. I am innocent, for crying out loud. You got the wrong guy back then. I have the court’s word for it, now please just leave me alone!”

  “If you have nothing to hide, then why can’t I search your place for my son, huh? Why won’t you let me in? I’ll tell you why. Because you know I’ll find something. Because you’re not as clean as you claim to be. You know something. I saw it in your eyes today when I showed you that ring. And now my son is missing? I don’t believe in coincidences. If you don’t have anything to hide, then let me in.”

  Vernon Johnson scoffed. “Nice try, Detective. But I’m not letting you inside my apartment. I am sorry your son is missing, but it’s really not my problem. Now, if you’ll excused me, my dinner is getting cold.”

  He closed the door on me with a loud bang. I snorted and hammered on it, yelling Austin’s name.

  “If you’re in there, Austin, just remember I’m not giving up. I will come back for you. Don’t worry.”

  I felt like an idiot standing out there hammering on a door and yelling. I was an idiot. I knew I was acting like one. But what else could I do? I felt so helpless, so frustrated. I was certain Vernon knew where my son was. If he wasn’t here, then he knew where he was.

  I decided to go back to my car, and I sat in the parking lot for a little while, slamming my hand into the steering wheel, when my phone rang. It was Shannon. I picked it up. “Any news? Have you found him?”

  “No. I’m sorry. But we have found something else.”

  My heart dropped. What had they found? A piece of his clothes? What?

  “What did you find?” I asked and started the engine.

  “You better come home and see for yourself.”

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  May 2015

  I wasn’t happy about leaving Vernon Johnson’s place. I was still certain Austin was somewhere inside of his apartment, and I feared what this sick bastard might do to him. At the same time, I knew it was going to take a while before I could get a warrant to search his place. If I could find a judge that would grant it to me. I didn’t have much solid ground to base my suspicion on.

  I drove over the bridges, cursing and yelling my anger out. It had gotten dark when I reached the island and drove up in front of the motel. Cars were everywhere, and I couldn’t find a space, so I had to park next to the neighbor’s fence. I hoped they didn’t mind. Shannon came towards my car. My parents were standing behind her, my dad holding my mom’s shoulders. They all had worried faces.

  Uh-oh. This doesn’t look good.

  I opened the door and jumped out. Shannon looked at me. “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “We found this,” Shannon said and handed me a note.

  I took it and looked at it. It was handwritten note where Austin had written his name. Nothing else. I turned the paper to look at the back.

  “What does this mean?” I asked.

  “We found the note in Austin’s shoe. Someone had put it in front of the door to your condo.”

  Shannon showed me the sneakers. They were Austin’s, all right. His favorite sneakers, his Game Kicks, that had buttons on the side and blinked and played music. And he could play some game on them. I never understood what it was for, but I knew he loved them and always wore them. They had been crazy expensive, but I didn’t mind buying them for him, since he enjoyed them so much.

  I looked at the shoe and then at the note.

  “It doesn’t tell us anything,” Shannon said. “Other than he is alive.”

  “And that someone has him. Someone who wants to make sure we know they have him,” I said.

  “What do we do now?” Shannon asked.

  I sighed and shrugged. “I…I have no idea. Where are Angela and Abigail?” I asked and started walking up towards the motel.

  “They insisted on joining the search team,” my mother answered. “They’re searching the entire beach area. Emily went with them.”

  “She came back?” I asked.

  “I texted her,” Shannon said. “Told her what was going on. She came home right away. She was very upset.”

  I walked to the deck and looked into the darkness that had swallowed my son. A dozen flashlights flickered in the distance. Austin’s name was being called from everywhere. A sudden realization struck me like a blow to the face.

  I had to go through the night without my son.

  “You haven’t told the search team about the note?” I asked.

  “I wanted to show it to you first,” Shannon said.

  “I’m glad you did.”

  She leaned on my shoulder. “Oh, Jack. This is terrible. I am so sorry.”

  I kissed her on the top of her head. “I know. We’ll find him though. I know we will.”

  “You think he might have been taken by the same person who took Noah Kinley?” she asked.

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell her that was all I was thinking about. I couldn’t tell her I was certain it was the same guy. Except for the note. The note and shoe gave me hope. It wasn’t something the kidnapper had done before. Either it was someone else, or the kidnapper was escalating, and that often meant making mistakes.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  May 2015

  Vernon was upset. He kicked a chair in his apartment and caused it to fall over. Then he picked up a vase and threw it against the wall. It shattered to pieces that landed on the carpet. He had bought the place furnished, since he didn’t want to have to go out and buy all this crap that people had in their houses; he just wanted a place to live. Some old lady had lived there, and now she was in a home somewhere, and he was staying in all of her old furniture. He hated this place even more than he hated his mother’s place, where he had stayed in the beginning.

  Why? Because he wasn’t free here either. He felt like he was even more in prison than when he was still on the inside. It bothered him, since all he did when he was on the inside was to dream of getting out.

  But that wasn’t why he was angry. It wasn’t because of the constant harassment from the police or the media that always mentioned his name whenever the case about the missing child came up. No, that wasn’t why. He was very angry now because of that stupid ring Jack Ryder had found. It stirred something up inside of him, and he couldn’t let it go.

  The ring had been his father’s. He knew it had. He remembered it vividly. It used to sit on the hand that beat Vernon, and it would always leave a mark somewhere. Vernon could never forget that ring. Not even if he wanted to.

  But, he didn’t. Right now, he didn’t want to forget anything. He wanted to remember. He wanted to know what the heck was going on. And there was only one way to find out. Only one person who knew the truth.

  His mother.

  Vernon ran down the stairs and found his bike that he had boug
ht at Wal-Mart. He had decided he didn’t want a car, since it had been so many years since he had last driven one, and he enjoyed the fresh air so much. So, he had bought himself a bike instead, and now he was riding it through the dark night towards his mother’s place.

  He parked it outside and stormed up to her condo and knocked on the door. It took a while before she opened the door, probably because she was already asleep. She liked to go to bed early.

  “Vernon? What are you doing here?” she asked sleepily.

  Vernon pushed her to the side and barged in.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “What happened to my father?” he asked breathing heavily from the biking and running up the stairs.

  Vernon’s mother rubbed her eyes and shut the door behind her. “What do you mean, what happened to your dad?”

  “What happened to him?”

  “I’ve told you. He was taken by Castro’s soldiers. He was put in jail, where they killed him.”

  “How do you know he’s dead?” Vernon asked.

  His mother sighed, then sat on the couch. “I…I guess I just thought he was. Since I never heard from him again.”

  “So, you never saw his dead body?”

  “No. No, I didn’t.”

  “You never buried him? You never held his funeral, right?” Vernon asked.

  “True, but…”

  “Why was he put in prison?” Vernon asked.

  “Why? I don’t know why. Castro didn’t need a reason to put him in jail. Your father was very outspoken. He might have said something against the regime. He wanted to fight for our rights. Castro took everything.”

  Vernon sat down and covered his face.

  “What’s going on, son?” his mother asked. “Why all of these questions all of a sudden?”