Dare to Breathe (20 page)

Chapter Thirty-Three

The shrill sound of my phone wakes me up. I must have fallen asleep at the computer hunting for answers. I quickly glance at the time before I answer the call. It’s now nine o’clock.

“Hello?”

“Um, is this Nathan? It’s Barry Jones returning your call. How can I help you?”

I quickly tell Barry what has happened and my concerns. I don’t disclose the abuse. I worry this may confuse the situation.

“So, you think he may have taken her?”

“I don’t fucking know,” I reply, finally snapping. “I just want you to contact Dean, see if he is around or if he has disappeared.”

“I can make a call in I suppose. It is part of the terms of his release that he stays in town,” he answers sounding unsure. “You know there is no reason to stop him seeing his niece. My files tell me she is his only family.”

“Mister Jones, did you ever consider why his
only
family never visited him in jail?” I ask him bitterly. “There is more to this story than I can tell you but I can tell you this much, Samantha will definitely not want to see Dean, not ever!”

I hear Barry cough politely into the phone. I guess he is considering what to say but I don’t give him time to respond.

“Does he still live in Hammond?” I ask.

“You know I can’t disclose this information,” Barry tells me.

Damn!
“Okay, well can you please call me once you have been to see him and let me know what you find?”

“Okay, I’ll call you back in an hour,” he replies and then hangs up. This is reassuring. Finally someone is taking my concern seriously.

The hour is the longest one in my life. I walk around the house picking up the mess, just to give me something to do, washing the dishes and finally just sitting in our room. I feel close to her in here and I look over at the photo she has taped on the wall. I pull it off and have a closer look. I see three young children sitting outside an apartment complex. I can see a sign in the distance so I put the photo right under my nose trying to decipher the words.

‘Berkley Square, Hammond.’
This must be where they lived before the place burned down
.

I jump off the bed and go back to the computer. This time I search Berkley Square, Hammond and there it is, a set of council housing blocks which all look slightly worse for wear. I look up flights to Hammond in case I need to go and to my surprise, discover a flight leaving in a few hours. I hesitate, agonizing whether I should fly out or stay here.
What if I am wrong?

When the phone rings, I pick it up immediately.

“He has disappeared. All of his belongings are gone. Nathan, I think I will need to call this in,” says Barry.

“Barry, please just tell me, was he still living in Hammond?” I beg him.

“Son, you never heard this from me, but no, he was given an apartment about an hour from Hammond. I have to go but I will call you if I find anything else.”

Indecision eats me alive but I know I can’t sit here any longer. I jump up, grab my bag which I still haven’t unpacked since getting home and rush straight out to the airport.

Hammond is your typical run down town suffering from a failing economy with empty shops sporting ‘for sale’ signs lining the street. It has a liquor store on the corner, a fast food burger joint down the road and row after row of apartment blocks. I turn and push my finger on the inside lock of the door of my hired car as I head towards Berkley Square. I have no idea why I feel the need to go there, but something pulls at me. I just follow.

I eventually find the apartment complex and park the car. I take a close look at the complex and measure it up against the photo Sam has in her room. Not much has changed since it was taken except it looks dirtier. Litter lines the street in front of it and a group of youths sit on their car bonnet eyeing me suspiciously.

I get out of the car, photo in hand, and walk up to them as calmly as I can, a visible twenty dollar bill in my hand. “Hey guys, I used to know a family who lived here a long time ago. Who can I ask around here about where they are now?” I ask them trying to sound relaxed and in control.

The tallest boy looks at me with hooded eyes. I pass the photo to him along with the money and notice his eyes skim it over.

“You could ask my grandma,” he finally suggests.

I nearly fall over with gratitude but hold it together. “Where can I find her?” I ask him, palming another twenty dollar bill.

“Number twenty-three,” he says, grabbing the money and stuffing it in his shorts and already looking away from me.

“Thanks man,” I tell him. As I walk off I wonder what sort of grandson sends a strange man over to see his grandma by himself.

The hallway smells like piss and the lifts are broken so I take a deep breath and walk up the stairs until I find number twenty-three.

I knock on the door and wait while I hear a shuffling sound approaching the door. I hear a chain get placed on the door and then it slightly opens up.

“What’d’ya want?” Rheumy brown eyes peer out the hallway at me.

“Hello, I’m Nathan. Your grandson said I could ask you about a family who lived here a long time ago,” I start saying.

“I don’t know nothin’,” she says as she starts to shut the door in my face.

I stick my foot out to stop it shutting completely. “Please, I just want to know if you remember them. I think the young girl in this picture may be in trouble and anything you remember might just help her!” I spurt.

“Damn!” she says, sighing while eyeing the photo. I remove my foot and she shuts the door. I turn to walk away defeated but then I hear the locks being opened. “Well, you better come and show me the picture properly then,” says a short, bent, old lady glaring up at me.

I walk right in and hand her the photo. She takes it and shuffles over to a cabinet sitting in the corner where she grabs her glasses. Once these are securely on her head she brings the photo close to her face.

“Hmm, these are the West kids,” she says, waving the photo at me. “Yes, I remember them well. They used to spend all day playing just out there.” She shuffles towards the window.

I walk over and look at where she is pointing. I see a fence and some rubbish bins and scowl, thinking of Sam and her siblings playing in such trash.
Where the fuck were their parents
?

“The Wests were bad people—all of them—even their useless mamma. I remember that woman from before she was married, when she was called Mary Carver. I never had proof but I think she was sleeping with the brother-in-law,” she tells me, almost reading my thoughts out loud and answering them.

“What about the brother-in-law?” I jump in. “What happened to him?”

“After the fire, he grabbed the little girl and just disappeared. I have no idea what happened to them both,” she says, shaking her head, lost in her own memories. “I remember this photo well. I gave it to her just after the fire. She looked so sad and scared. I thought it would help her, you know. Never thought I would see it again,” she says, looking down at it and running her fingers over it. “Funny thing is, the other day; I thought I saw him outside over there while I was watching out for my boys.” She points outside again, but this time to where the youths are sitting on the car. My heart catches in my throat.
He was here!

“Please can you tell me where he went, after that day I mean?” I ask her eagerly.

“Nah, I don’t know. I thought he sat there in his car for a while and then he was gone.” She shrugs.

“What was he driving?” I ask hopefully.

“It was a red van, one of them old ones. A Dodge maybe,” she replies, scratching her head.

“Thank you for your time,” I say. I’m already walking out and calling Barry.

“She was a sweet little thing. It was a real tragedy when she lost those baby boys. You should have seen how she looked after them, like a real little mamma, better than her own mamma anyway!” she adds, closing the door softly behind me. “I really hope you find her safe.”

I stop and look at the closed door thinking of Sam while the phone starts to ring on the other end of the line.

“Barry, he has a red van, possibly a Dodge,” I tell him the second he answers the phone, “and he was here, in Berkley Square where he used to live before he moved to the trailer park, just recently,” I rush out in one quick breath.

“A red Dodge. You got any more information ?” he asks, sounding harassed.

“No damn it, but it’s a start and Barry, he was here!” I shout the last few words out. As I walk past the youths, they eye me guardedly, but I don’t have time to talk to them. I jump in my car and start driving. “You need to look at where they moved after the apartment burnt down. He’s there; I just feel it in my gut.”

“Okay, let me do the police work. I will call you as soon as I hear anything. Go and get some sleep,” he tells me.
As if!

I want to throw the phone down in disgust. The frustration of not having answers and not having a solution is killing me. I head to the nearest motel and book a room, not because I am tired but because I just don’t know what else to do right now. When I get in the room I lie down on the bed in all my clothes and close my eyes, trying not to freak out.

Hours pass and still I hear nothing. I finally know I can’t put it off anymore. I need support and I call Ben.

“Hey bro.” Ben answers on the third ring, sounding happy. I can hear the girls in the car singing along to a popular song.

I don’t waste any time. “Ben, something’s happened to Sam,” I choke out.

“What the fuck? What do you mean?”

I hear the radio get turned off and silence in the background as everyone listens to Ben’s voice.

I tell him the story and this time I can’t help the tears. I know I am a pussy but I am so scared. Scared of losing her, of losing yet another girl I love. I don’t think I can survive another loss. Ben listens to my whole story from start to finish without saying a word.

When I am finally done talking I hear him take a deep breath.

“Stay put, we’re on our way. We’re about four hours away but we’re coming bro; hang in there.”

I put the phone down and finally fall into an exhausted sleep.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Hours pass and I am woken up by a car’s lights streaming into my room. I get up and check the time. They will be here any minute and I am relieved. Left alone right now, I could be a danger to myself.

The lights go off from the car and I hear familiar voices outside. I run to the door and throw it open. The girls come running toward me hugging me tightly and both crying.

“Shit, Nathan, we’re so scared,” Mandy tells me as she pulls back to look up at me.

I hold onto them both for support and whisper back, “Me too Mandy, me too.”

My friends all crowd into my room and I share with them what I know. Ben is pacing the room and smoking like a chimney but none of us cares about that right now.

“Where the fuck is this Barry guy?” Ben asks me.

“I don’t know,” I tell him brokenly.

Just then the phone rings. “Hello?”

“Nathan, have you heard any news?” I hear Mister Marsh ask.

I feel bad. I haven’t called them to keep them updated and I know they must be feeling so frustrated at not being able to help.

“I’m so sorry I haven’t called you Mister Marsh,” I answer. “I took a flight out to Hammond when I found out Dean had disappeared. I just know he has her and I am getting her back.” I try to put some confidence in my voice.

I hear him crying and I grit my teeth, holding back my own tears.

“I love that girl. If that bastard touches a hair on her head, I will kill him myself,” he finally says.

I feel for them both, I really do. At their age they can’t go hunting for her around the country as I have and just sitting there waiting for something must be agonizing.

“I know sir, so do I,” I reply.

We hang up after I promise him I will call him back within a couple of hours. Then we all sit and wait all looking at the phone, willing for it to ring with good news.

Mandy and Carrie go out to buy us food and water. When they return Carrie hands me a chicken sandwich and a bottle of water and sits down next to me.

“Nathan,” she begins, “I need to apologize to you.”

I look over at her with tired eyes. I have no idea where she is going with this conversation but I see by her face that what she has to say is important to her.

She continues to hold her own bottle of water in her hands and rolls it nervously between her hands.

“I loved Kate, I really did, but when she started dating you, I hated her for a while,” she says softly.

I look over at her in surprise. “Why?”

“Because she took you from me,” she says brokenly, still playing with the water bottle and avoiding looking at me.

What?
“Carrie you were always my friend. I never stopped being your friend because of her.”