Page 31 of Facing the Enemy
Jack and Nanette left the interview room to retrieve the phones at the receptionist’s desk. I took advantage of the few moments alone with Alex. “Are you certain meeting with the Addingtons is in your best interest?”
“My wife and I believe it’s best. I’d be a fool not to realize they hurt more than we do, and I don’t want them to think we’ve been part of a crime.”
“I understand. I’d want to do the same. Alex, are you keeping information from your wife or the FBI?”
He rubbed his temples. “Ninety thousand dollars is missing from our business account. I discovered it before we boarded the plane. Nanette deserves to know the truth, but she’s already devastated, andthe missing money might push her over the edge.” He leaned back in his chair. “I talk too much when I’m nervous, upset.”
“No problem. In turning this inside out, valuable information may surface.”
“We wanted a child, and this offered the perfect solution. With my criminal record, Nanette will never be fulfilled as a mother, and we’ve tried every way possible. She wanted so much to help you.” He paused. “Maybe to find out there’d been a mistake. But I told her the FBI and police rarely make errors.”
“Thank you for the confidence. You and your wife have provided useful information to help us find those involved in the fraudulent adoption agency.”
“Yes, sir, but any mention of trying to adopt again is impossible.”
“Why? This isn’t your fault.”
“I don’t think my wife or I will ever recover.”
16
RISA
While most of the world shared in the excitement of the Christmas season, I shoved the merriment aside. “Just get through the holidays” was my mantra. Talking to Mom and Dad rather than seeing them face-to-face meant no physical touch from them or for them. I sounded like a disappointed child, and the title fit. No delicious smells and tastes of Mom’s celebratory recipes or Dad’s deep baritone voice singing traditional songs.
Frustration wrenched at my being. What was wrong with the world that no one saw the pain and heartache so many of us felt during this time of year? Labor Day and Thanksgiving were hard, but Christmas without Mom, Dad, and Trenton seemed grossly unfair. I wanted to feel joyous, but nausea churned 24-7. Ginger ale had replaced Dr Pepper in my food group.
I despised my grief and wallowing in self-pity. How long would it last?
Ethan Mercury phoned me on my drive home after classes on Friday. I listened through my Bluetooth. “How are you, Mr. Mercury?”
“Lynn and I have been better. We haven’t heard from Carson. His mother and I are worried he’s hurt or in trouble. He’s no longeron our phone plan, so that idea to find him didn’t work. He wanted independence, more opportunities to make his own decisions, and we thought it was a good idea. I’ve checked law enforcement for accidents and hospitals along the road to the Rockies, and nothing has been reported. I wanted to update you on his status.”
Why was I not surprised? Carson witnessed or confessed to killing my brother on his writing project and then left town. My head pounded at his treachery, but I must keep my emotions intact. But ... if he had driven the car that killed Trenton, then why write a short story and turn it in to me? Had guilt driven him to a strange type of confession? Or like the story indicated, did he have deep psychological issues?
“I don’t think you’ve received bad news, sir. He hasn’t been in an accident or in the hospital.”
“It’s not like my son to be irresponsible.”
“Did you offer authorities Carson’s driver’s license and license plate numbers?”
Ethan exhaled. “Yes, and his Jeep’s description. Our concern was an accident. Now too many things are stalking us.”
Were they aware of his story contents? Suspected psychological issues? “I know a few people in law enforcement. My friend Gage Patterson could help. I can’t promise anything, but I can try.”
“Sure. Appreciate your help.” Ethan gave me Carson’s info, but I already had it from prior research.
“Have you contacted any of his friends or a girlfriend? Most kids talk to their peers more than their parents.”
“I was young once and did stupid things. Thought I was mature and didn’t need to tell my parents everything. To the best of our knowledge, he no longer has a girlfriend. We’ll contact all those we can think of and let you know. We’re close to some of the parents, and they could have asked for more information before their sons left. A mistake his mother and I will never make again.”
“I’m sure he’s fine. He’s probably hiking or camping where there’s no connectivity.”
“Hope so, Professor Jacobs. He’s young and susceptible to pressure.We expect experiments of drinking and even drugs, but he hasn’t ever shown us that kind of behavior.”
Once home, I deliberated about the Mercurys and Carson. They’d made a critical error in not asking for their son’s travel plans or the names of those traveling with him. Would they live to regret their decision of giving him space, and in the process, my brother’s killer went free?
Life ticked by like a metronome, marking the beats of each breath. When our song finished and we breathed our last, our lives slipped into eternity.
