Chapter 20
"Did—did he give you that bruise?" my mother cried, pointing at my face, where I'm sure a hideous purple blob was starting to form.
"What? No!" I ripped my hand out of Nathan's. I couldn't believe the seriousness of her accusation, or that it had come from her.
"Mrs. Griffin – no, never," Nate defended himself, his tone very severe. If you would let me just explain, he seemed to plead with his eyes.
"Then what happened?" she asked, shooting Nathan a disbelieving glare. "And why, after that day you kidnapped her from my front porch, have you taken a sudden interest in my daughter?"
"Mom! Stop!" I hissed. This was not going the way I expected it to. This was supposed to have been quiet and brief. This shouldn't have turned out into what it was – a yelling match. A battle of wills.
"Are you planning on using her for another one of those schemes?" she demanded, taking a menacing step towards Nathan. She was almost a foot shorter than him, yet it looked like she could own his ass in a matter of seconds if it ever came down to it. "You were here just the other day with that lady. Has this got something to do with that? And I've heard of you. I—I've heard what people in town say about you, how you treat girls like they're toys."
"With all due respect, Mrs. Griffin," Nate said, his voice low. It sounded like he was trying to control his temper. "You know absolutely nothing about me."
"Mother, stop this! You're being ridiculous—"
"No I am not! You're being naive. This boy can't be anything but trouble to you."
"I love him, okay?" I cried, blurting out the first lie I could think of. Both of them froze. I could feel Nate's gaze boring into my skull. It was too late – I had to commit to it now.
"I'm sorry I've been hiding it from you all this time. I love Nathan. And he loves me. This has nothing to do with him trying to manipulate me in any way. I just thought... your reaction wouldn't be like this."
It was a while before anybody spoke. The shock seemed to have rendered my mother speechless. She opened her mouth a few times, but nothing came out.
With the flood of panic and anger still running through me, I continued. "I want to be with him. I made that decision long ago, and I'm sticking with it. Nathan wants to be with me as well, mother. Why would you deny me of that?" I asked, playing the shame game. It was working. "Nathan makes me happy. Why would you try and take that away?"
Her hard expression slowly began to thaw, melting into something like internal conflict. Her many roles in my life – broken mother, fierce protector, antagonist, enemy, stranger, friend. She flickered in and out of them, all at once.
All this time, she had been protecting me, guarding me from the worst that was out there. What now? What comes afterwards?
She contemplated her next words. "Well... are you sure?"
I nodded, holding her gaze. "Absolutely positive."'
See? Lying was easy.
She paused, and I could hear the wheels turning in her mind. After I had confessed my so-called love to Nathan, she seemed at loss for what to say next. Her eyes flickered to me, then back to Nate, trying to decide something. It took her a whole minute to finally answer.
"Okay. Fine. Go right ahead. But you don't understand... what we've had to do to survive – if you lay one finger on her—"
"I think I got the memo, Mrs. G," Nate answered lightly. I resisted the urge to smack my purple forehead. Calling my mother 'Mrs. G' was not going to impress her. Judging by her expression, my hunch had been correct.
My mother was unable to hold herself with any sort of dignity, still astounded by the sheer absurdity of our display. She paused. She started a sentence, then stopped. Finally, "Is—is this like a sex thing?" she gestured vaguely to our bruised faces.
"What?" I cried at the same time as Nathan's "Jesus, no!"
Before any more words could be exchanged, I quickly grabbed hold of Nathan's hand and made our immediate escape. Far, far away from my bewildered mother, into the fortress of my bedroom. Though now it had been seemed like a lifetime ago, I vaguely remembered being asked to do something as soon as we were both in private.
"Nate and I are going to my room," I announced over my shoulder. I dragged Nate into my room and locked the door before I could hear her protest. Mother probably thought we were going off to do some more weird sex things. I decided I no longer cared what she thought.
I heard Nate collapse onto my bed while I rummaged through his bag. I pulled out his shiny laptop, setting it up on my nearby desk. I had to move all of the crap I'd forgotten to clear. My desk was cluttered with books and homework. I almost tripped on my lacrosse stick, which rolled along the floorboards and stopped once it met carpet.
I began the task of processing about what had just occurred in my kitchen. What was Officer Cross doing in my house? And did I just tell my mother I loved Nathan? I could hardly make sense of it all. I knew what I said hadn't been true, but I also knew I would never live it down. From now on, until the rest of my days, Nate would hold it over my head for his sick amusement.
After setting everything up, I turned around and found Nathan splayed across my comforter, his arms crossed above his head. He had a huge smile on his face, and he was watching me with a playful glint in his very bright eyes.
I was right. He definitely wouldn't be letting me live down the catastrophe that was moments ago.
"Just for the record," I stated, "don't call my mother Mrs. G. She'll hate that. And besides, she's not married."
"Duly noted," Nate replied. He gave me a long, curious look. "So I'm assuming Officer Cross isn't the father in the picture?"
"Certainly not." I hesitated, still reeling and unsure of what to make of him. "I – I'm not sure what that was."
"I'm not sure either. The only thing I'm sure of is your eternal, undying love for me," he teased, shooting his eyebrows up and down.
I rolled my eyes, turning my back towards him. But my bedroom was small – everywhere in my periphery, the shape of him followed. I quickly booted up the laptop, impatiently waiting for it to load. "Shut up. You knew I was lying."
"Sure you were, angel." I felt him sit up. "From where I was standing, it sounded like the complete truth."
"You wish I was telling the truth."
"No, I think you wish you were telling the truth."
I turned to him, baffled by his convoluted thinking. "What?"
He chuckled, moving himself up and standing behind me. "I think you really do like me, angel. And it's not just all an act." I could practically feel the arrogance radiating off of him. It annoyed the bejeezus out of me.
I didn't want to encourage any more of this behavior, so I kept silent. I pulled out a list of instructions I was given out of my front pocket, and typed in the passwords which were written. One after another, jumping over one security barrier to the next. Finally, I had access to the video chat, which was heavily password-protected and bypassed multiple servers for utmost secrecy.
"Is that a yes?" he pressed on.
"It's a nothing."
"I'm taking 'nothing' as a yes."
"Fine. It was a 'shut up.'"
I felt him smile.
"Now that is a definite yes."
"Hm."
"...so, are we going to do some freaky sex stuff now or what?"
"Do you want to find some missing people here or not, Ericson?" I snapped. He was pushing my limit.
That sobered him up. He crouched down close to me to get a good look at the screen, and I could feel is body heat running up and down the length of my back. Two points of pressure touching – his elbow, my side, his knee, my hip. I did my best not to notice it.
After typing in some more codes, and opening up a few more programs, I managed to log onto, and have full access of, the encrypted chat room. A serious, intimidating male face stared blankly at us through the screen. It was Peter Stephanotis.
"Did you do what was asked?" was all he spoke through his microphone. His mouth pressed into a thin line. I couldn't help but think that he'd look so much more attractive if he smiled.
"Yes, sir," I answered, turning my own microphone on.
"Good. Did anybody seem suspicious?'
"No," Nate hesitated. "Well, one person."
"Who?" Peter pressed, suddenly seeming alert.
"Relax, it's nobody important."
"I asked for a name, Nathan."
"Noah Lincoln."
Peter was silent for a while. Then he turned from the webcam and typed something his keyboard at lightning speed. His background was dark, as if the lights were turned off. Showing no indication as to what kind of space he inhabited.
His eyes scanned a separate screen briefly, before turning back to us. "Noah Lincoln – Vanessa's boy?"
I nodded.
He continued reading the screen. He nodded, as if confirming something to himself. "Yes. It seems as though he has quite a past with Jennifer."
"We're aware of that, too," I answered.
He was silent again, lost in the information in front of him. He tapped his chin with his fingers. "Hm. I see. And all this time we've been looking for a political reason..."
"Wait, what?" Nathan asked, bending lower to the screen. His entire chest was flush against my back.
Peter seemed annoyed with his interruption. "My team and I have been looking for any possible clues that could lead us to Jennifer and Robert. So far, we found only a few."
"Really? What kinds of clues?" I asked, intent on his next words.
"We checked in with the pharmacy where you last admitted seeing them. They gave us the same alibi as they gave the police; there had been nobody sighted at the back alley. The time that Jesabel has given us and the time the manager had said they'd closed for the night don't match up. The employee time sheet supports Jesabel's account, but doesn't align with the manager's claims. We think that somebody might be keeping the employees quiet."
"Who?" Nathan asked.
Peter looked annoyed. "If we knew the answer to that question, we wouldn't be here today," he stated.
"Don't mind him," I waved Nathan off. "Go on."
"I've also been keeping track of the other members of our investigative circle," he continued. Nate froze. "We found quite a lot of interesting transactions linking Aurora Hockley to Alfred Ericson."
"What?" Nate fumed. "My dad would never lower himself with – with her. Are you saying... he's a part of this?"
"That's not quite what I said," was Peter's cool reply. "But you have to understand. Everybody is to be considered suspect, with the exception of those who have a strong enough alibi. I've made mention of this to your father upon his short return, and he claimed to be at a business conference in Seattle at the time of the disappearance. Aurora, however, is who catches my interest most."
Jenny's mother. "What has she done?" I asked. I remembered Aurora at the memorial, the way she could switch on and off from misery to calculation. The hairs at the back of my neck stood up – the terrible feeling persisted.
Peter sighed. "Nothing. She has been untraceable since after the memorial. We made a visit to the Hockley's shortly after our initial meeting, and found it to be completely cleared out. Her husband, John, is also nowhere to be found. Her younger daughter has been unenrolled from elementary school for quite some time. While all of this seems suspect, we are waiting for more information to be uncovered. It would be best to hold off on accusations for the most part."
"What the – that's too coincidental!" Nate exclaimed, gripping the edge of the table on either side of me.
"We've also found reports that Aurora's mother, Deidre, had suffered a heart attack more than four days ago. Aurora and her family might have moved back to her hometown in Alaska, where Deidre is currently admitted to a local hospital. This could also be a very good reason as to why they've disappeared during this time."
"Alaska? Have you sent anyone there?" I asked. "Have you tried the hospital?"
"I have PI's flying out there as we speak," Peter responded. "For the moment, we have nothing new to note."
I huffed, slumping against my seat, causing the back of my head to burrow against Nate's neck. He placed a small, reassuring kiss to my temple.
Peter acknowledged the display, with effort. "I'm afraid you will have to keep up – this – act for a while longer. We are approaching this investigation with utmost caution, so it might take a lot longer than expected to uncover anything new. In the meantime, Jesabel, Mei has scheduled another press interview for you to attend at noon tomorrow. Nathan will be taking you there."
"Okay," I nodded. "What do I say?"
"Anything. And judging by what you've shown us, you'll have no problem embellishing the truth on the spot. Just make sure whatever you say will be shocking, believable and sympathetic. Steer the attention clear from us. The police – and the entire world – need to be focused on you, and not on what we're doing. I'll be following up on Noah Lincoln."
He continued, his sharp eyes suddenly very intense. Even through the blue-lit screen, I still deeply felt the weight of his words. "Cry. Act grief-stricken. Gain attention. And whatever you do, do not blow your cover. The front of this whole investigation relies on the both of you. Don't screw it up."
Great. How reassuring.