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The House That Jack Built Page 8
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“Okay,” he said, his voice trembling. “Let’s do this.”
The driver started the bus up. He reached the Peruvian Embassy, then looked in his rearview mirror and looked at Isabella and her grandmother. “Get down now,” he said. “Everyone.”
They all threw themselves on the floor of the bus. Isabella’s body was trembling in fear while her grandmother’s arm landed on her back and she felt her creep close to her. She petted her across the hair and whispered in her ear.
“Sh. It’ll all be alright.”
The bus continued towards the fence of the Peruvian Embassy, and seconds later, the sound of shots being fired at the bus burned themselves into Isabella’s memory as she closed her eyes and screamed, drowning out the sound of the bus crashing through the fence.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
May 2015
Shannon bent over the toilet once again and gagged. Nothing came out. It was the seventh time this morning she had thrown up. There was nothing left. She slid to the floor and caught her breath. The nausea was killing her. She didn’t remember it being this way with Angela.
There was a knock on her door. “Ten minutes to showtime,” a voice said.
Shannon got up and splashed water on her face. It had been a busy couple of days. Jack had been very occupied with his case and been away in Daytona, leaving her to deal with the kids, and this morning she had flown out to Austin, Texas to do a concert. The stadium was completely sold out. Around thirty thousand people were expecting her to go on stage in ten minutes.
Was it nerves? Could it be that she was simply so nervous it made the nausea worse? Or was this just a different pregnancy than with Angela? She had been throwing up for weeks now. Her doctor told her it would get better…usually, after around three months into the pregnancy, he had said. Well she was more than three months in now, and it didn’t seem to have any intentions of calming down.
She also felt so tired every day. Like she was completely drained of energy. She wasn’t used to feeling this feeble. Shannon had always been a person with great energy.
She looked at herself in the mirror. She was so pale. She found some make-up and tried to cover up the redness around her eyes and nose. No one knew about the pregnancy yet, and she wasn’t ready to tell. Not until it showed. Then she would have to. But she wasn’t looking forward to it. The press was already all over the fact that she had bought the property in Cocoa Beach. The covers of the magazines this week told everyone how she was building her love nest with her hunk-lover, Jack. Others were really mean and wrote that she had barely buried her ex-husband Joe before she moved on. Some still called her the murderess country-star, even though she hadn’t even been charged with anything yet, let alone convicted.
Shannon finished putting on her make-up, then smiled her stage-smile, grabbed her hat, and put it on. From afar, no one could see how bad she felt on the inside.
There was another knock on the door and Shannon knew it was time to go out. She went to grab her guitar, but as she leaned down to get it from the box, she felt a pain in her stomach. Like a pinch, but just worse. Shannon leaned against the wall to not fall. She gasped in fear.
It didn’t feel right.
She felt her stomach as the pain disappeared. Shannon breathed hard. She felt anxious and looked at her phone. Should she call Jack and let him know?
No, he is busy today. Besides, he’ll only worry and tell you not to go on. This is what you love. You need this to not go insane.
It had been a lot lately…taking care of all the children, and Shannon wasn’t sure she was made for taking care of children. She loved them, yes, but she needed more in her life.
Shannon opened the door and stepped out. In the distance, she could hear the crowd calling her name. She closed her eyes and smiled. She started walking towards the stage area, deciding to forget everything about the pain in her stomach, children, houses, murder charges, and being a mother and simply do what she did best, what she knew she could do.
Sing.
Chapter Thirty
May 2015
I finished my report on the Daytona shooting and handed it to Ron. There was still no news about the last sister, who seemed to have vanished. Meanwhile, Richard was pulling all kinds of evidence material out of Sarah Millman’s Snapchat account, and it was starting to look really good. It was obvious they had thought they were safe using this media to share their pictures, but now it served as excellent evidence. I couldn’t have been happier.
After a long day of work, I decided to leave early and go to the lot to see if they had made any progress. They had started to clean it out the same morning and were still at it when I arrived. The bulldozers were cleaning out the yard and tearing down the remains of the old house that had been there since the storm knocked it down in 2005.
I spoke to the workers, who told me it all went according to plan, but that they might need a day or two more than anticipated. I figured they would.
“The old house will be gone in a couple of days, and then you can start to build your own,” the foreman said.
I was looking very much forward to that. The architect and I had agreed on the floor plan, and I had asked him to make a bigger deck outside towards the beach, but other than that I was very satisfied. I couldn’t wait to see my dream house materialize itself. I couldn’t wait for my family to live there. Just me and Shannon and all of our kids. I could imagine all the fun we were going to have. So much joy and happiness.
I had started to dream about the baby and what it was going to be like, holding it in my arms. I couldn’t believe I was going to be a father once again. I had thought I was done with that part.
But, with life, you never knew.
I left the lot and drove back the two blocks to my parents’ place, where the twins and Angela were putting up a kite on the beach. My dad was helping them and I watched as they got it in the air. I walked up to my dad and stood next to him while watching the kite soar.
“So, where is Mom?” I asked.
My dad didn’t look at me. “She’s at Kennedy Space Center,” he said.
“At the Space Center? What on earth is she doing there?”
“Showing that Vernon character around. Apparently, he’s never seen it and really wanted to. After twenty-eight years in jail for something he didn’t do, I guess your mother feels like she owes it to him or something.”
“Doesn’t that upset you?” I asked.
He shrugged. I knew him well enough to know it did bother him.
“After so many years of marriage, you just gotta trust one another, right?” he said, not sounding very convincing.
“Dad. It bothers you. I can tell. Why don’t you just say something to her? Tell her you don’t want her to see him anymore.”
My dad looked at me, then laughed. “I can tell you don’t have much experience with the institution of marriage. If I say that, I’ll only make things worse. I don’t tell your mother what to do and what not to do.”
“But, at least, you should be able to tell her it bothers you,” I said.
The kite fell to the ground and Abigail ran to fetch it. They all helped each other to get it back up again. A woman walked past with her dog on the beach. It wasn’t on a leash. It annoyed me, since dogs weren’t allowed on the beach. But many dog owners did it anyway, and now people had started calling the Sheriff’s office to complain about it, and Ron had to send some of his deputies to the beach to give them fines. It happened every day now, and took a lot of our resources that we would be happy to use otherwise to maybe, say…solve murders. I understood why people wanted to walk their dogs on the beach. It was a great place to walk, and at this end of the beach, there weren’t that many people. But the least they could do was to keep them on leashes so they wouldn’t bother people.
I decided not to care, since I was off duty, and turned to spot Emily. She was sitting in the shade on the deck staring at her phone. I left my dad and the kids and walked up to her and sat down. Sh
e didn’t look at me.
“So, I hear you were pretty amazing last night?” I said.
She didn’t look up from her phone, or answer.
“Listen, I understand you’re mad at me for not coming. I can’t blame you for being mad. But you must believe I really wanted to be there more than anything in this world. Shannon told me all about it. She said you sang so beautifully. I feel so awful for missing it. It’s been eating me up all day. You must know I feel bad. I’ll be at your next concert. I promise I will.”
Emily sniffled and continued to look at her phone. I grabbed it out of her hands and forced her to look at me. I loved her beautiful brown eyes, and looking into them always made me go soft. Teenager or not, she was still my little girl, the same little girl I had taken in and taken care of since she was six years old and her mother died. I loved her like crazy. It was insane.
“Give me that back,” she said.
I held it in the air, so she couldn’t reach it. “Not till you tell me you forgive me,” I said with a grin.
Emily crossed her arms in front of her chest with a sigh. She rolled her eyes. “Okay,” she said. “I forgive you.”
“You gotta mean it,” I said. “Say it like you mean it.”
Emily rolled her eyes at me again, but a smile was slowly spreading. “I forgive you, okay? Now just give it back to me. I need my phone.”
“Alright,” I said and handed it back to her. “I know how you teenagers can’t live without your precious phones.”
As she reached for the phone, I noticed her collarbone seemed more visible than usual in the opening of her shirt. I looked into her face, feeling suddenly struck by worry.
“Emily? Are you losing weight?”
She stared at me with an angry look. Then she shook her head and pulled up her shirt to fully cover her chest. She was wearing an awful lot of clothing for a day like this with temperatures in the eighties. Come to think of it, it had been a very long time since I last saw her in shorts or even a swimsuit.
“What’s going on here, Emily?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said.
That was when I noticed her face had changed as well. Her cheeks had sunken in and her eyes were protruding.
“Are you alright? Are you having trouble in school?”
She looked into my eyes intensely. “Dad, I’m fine.” She paused and looked away, then back at me with a smile. “I really am. I’m just tired, is all. School is hard lately. Lots of work.” She sighed and rolled her eyes again. “Would you stop with that look? I’m fine. I really am, Dad.”
I nodded. “Okay. Just checking.”
Emily paused, then looked at me again. “So, Shannon said I was good?”
Seeing her smile made me relax. Maybe I was just overreacting. “Yeah. She said you are a really good singer. She’s very hard to impress, so there must be something to it.”
Chapter Thirty-One
May 2015
My mom still hadn’t come home when it was dinnertime, so I went in the kitchen and threw together a lasagna that my dad and I ate with the kids. I kept an eye on Emily and noticed that she hardly touched her food.
“You don’t like your lasagna?” My dad asked her.
“You know I don’t eat meat,” she said and put down her fork.
“I’ll have it,” Abigail said, and grabbed Emily’s portion as well.
“I’ll just make something else for myself,” Emily said, and walked into the kitchen. She didn’t return. The kids finished their plates and asked if they could run down to the beach and play ball before sunset. I told them they could, and soon it was just me and my dad left.
“I’m worried about her,” I said.
“Who, your mother?” he asked.
I smiled. “Why don’t you just call her and ask her when she will be back?” I asked. “No, I meant Emily. She seems to be losing weight.”
“Ah, Emily. It’s just a phase, son. Teenagers are scrawny. They grow so fast, their bodies can’t keep up. You were so skinny you looked like you could snap in two.” He looked at my stomach. “Guess you’ve outgrown that like the rest of us.”
“I’m not fat!” I protested.
My dad laughed and tapped my stomach. “No you’re not, son, but you’re getting older like the rest of us. It happens around forty. The hair recedes, the stomach pops out. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Just shows me you’re alive and well.”
I couldn’t help feeling a little offended. I was still only thirty-five. I had always been skinny, and, yes, I had a little stomach now, but I believed I looked great. I was in great shape and surfed almost every day. Well, almost. Lately, my job had been taking up all of my time.
“Be careful,” I said with a smile. “Don’t forget you’re talking to Shannon King’s surfer hunk.”
My dad laughed and shook his head. “That’s right. I forgot. That’s what they call you now.”
“Well, something like that,” I said and sipped my beer.
We sat in silence for a little while and enjoyed the nice breeze from the ocean. The storm was still out there somewhere and created strong winds on shore and choppy waves, but we couldn’t complain. It was overcast, but the temperature was very pleasant.
“Any news on the storm, yet?” My dad asked.
I grabbed my phone and looked at my storm-tracker-app. “They have given it a name,” I said. “Anna. First tropical storm of the season.”
“Anna, huh? Well let’s hope Anna stays off shore,” my dad said.
A car drove up to the motel. It was my mother. She was alone. I looked at my dad as she approached us on the deck. He avoided looking at her.
“There you both are,” she said.
My dad sipped his beer with a grunt.
“You made dinner, Jack?” she asked and looked at the lasagna in the middle of the table and the many empty plates.
“Yeah, lasagna,” I said.
“I’m sorry I missed it. I had to drive Vernon back to his condo. I met his mother and she talked my ear off.” My mother laughed. “They invited me to eat with them. I couldn’t say no. Didn’t you get my message?”
My dad shook his head. He never had his phone with him. He never saw any reason to.
“Well, be grumpy if you like. I had a great time,” she chirped, then walked inside.
I grabbed a couple of empty plates and followed her. She stood behind the counter and poured herself a glass of water. I placed the plates on the counter, then looked at her.
“Mom. What are you doing?”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“What are you doing with this guy? Staying away all day and not showing up for dinner? Dad is very upset. I can’t say I blame him.”
“Ah, he’ll get over it. He’s just grumpy because I wasn’t there to cook for him. Well, if he’s that hungry, he can cook for himself.”
I stared at my mother, completely baffled. I had never seen her like this. She had always taken care of all of us. If she ever died, my dad would die right along with her of starvation. There was no way he could ever cook anything.
“But, I need you to do me a favor, son,” my mom said and clasped my hand. “I need you to talk to those colleagues of yours. Tell them to back off. They are harassing Vernon. This morning, they stopped us as we were driving out. They asked him all kinds of questions and delayed us. They keep showing up at his mother’s condo asking him all kinds of questions or bringing him in for interrogation. They have searched his home several times. And, Vernon, sweet as he is, never even asks them for a warrant. He just lets them walk all over him. They never give him a reason or anything. It’s harassment, Jack. The poor guy was in prison for twenty-eight years for something he didn’t do. He is so afraid of the police that he’ll do anything they tell him to. It’s not fair, Jack. You’ve got to talk to them.”
“I can’t do that, Mom. We’re investigating the possible kidnapping of an eight year old boy. We’re pretty desperate. You have to admit, it is kind of od
d that just as he is released, another child disappears.”
My mother grabbed my arm hard. She forced me to look into her eyes. “He didn’t do it, Jack. Just like the first time, he is innocent.”
“Why do you keep protecting him?” I asked.
“Because he is innocent. Because he is my friend. Because I let it happen once and I am not going to let it happen to him again. It has been haunting me for twenty-eight years, Jack. I knew he was innocent back then too, but there was no way I could prove it. Now, I feel like it’s happening all over again. I can tell he’s scared.”
“But what if he isn’t innocent, Mom? What if he did do it?” I asked.
“What happened to innocent till proven guilty? You and the rest of this small town have him stigmatized. You all believe he’s guilty, even though you have no proof to back it up. Tell me this, Jack. You just found the body of the poor boy he allegedly kidnapped and killed back then. I read in the paper he was older than the seven years he was back when he was kidnapped. At least a couple years older when he was killed, right?”
“Right.”
“So, who killed and buried him? Can you tell me who did that? ‘Cause it wasn’t Vernon. He was already in jail.”
She was making a strong point. I’d been wondering that myself. Only I didn’t want to tell her she was right. I wanted Vernon Johnson to be guilty. I don’t know why. I just did. But I couldn’t keep ignoring the facts.
“I’ll talk to Ron about it,” I said, just as the phone in my pocket started to ring.
Chapter Thirty-Two
May 2015
Shannon had collapsed. It was her manager Bruce that called to tell me. With my heart in my throat, I asked my parents to look after the kids while I got on the last plane to Austin. I arrived right before midnight and was let in through the back door of the hospital to avoid the press. I was met by her doctor outside her room.
“She needs all the rest she can get,” Dr. Stanton said. He was her private physician from Nashville that she insisted on keeping, even though he was very far away from Cocoa Beach. He was the best, she insisted, and she never wanted anyone else. He had been called right after it happened.