CHAPTER 8
Lena had gotten home sometime during the night, but never came to my room and announced her presence, which gave me the notion that Ian had more than likely called her in a fury, making her aware of his conversation with Avan yesterday. Not that I was worried about Lena’s opinion of the new company I was keeping, but it also added another element of difficulty to the situation, seeing as how she was a bit hostile when it came to Avan and his friends from Spirits anyway. Honestly, I had better things to worry about than stupid high school crap that all centered around stroking people’s egos, which required my attention. Lena, Ian, and their wounded egos were going to have to wait in line.
I decided while getting ready for school that as soon as the bell rang ending the school day, I was going to take a road trip. Bridgepoint, the town we moved to Oceanview from, was two hours north. If I left right after school, I could make it there and back before it got too late. Avan worked after school, so I would just tell him I had something to do today that would prevent me from hanging around Spirits this afternoon.
Surely I could find information that would help me start filling in the blanks about what the notes meant. While I was there, I also planned on doing a little of my own investigation work on Sharon Mumford. I knew if she really had lived there, someone would have to remember her or there would be some kind of record of her being there.
When I was walking down stairs, I noticed something odd. There were no smells coming from the kitchen that there normally were at this time of morning when Lorenzo was usually making breakfast. I walked into the kitchen, finding no sign of Lorenzo at all. I moved from the kitchen to the dining room finding nothing even hinting to his presence this morning at all. In the three years I had lived here, I had never known Lorenzo to be sick, so to think he had requested a day off seemed unrealistic. I had no idea what to think, but I had a feeling deep inside that there was more to it than a long-overdue day off. I would definitely be asking Avan what he thought about it when he got here to pick me up.
I looked around again and noticed that there still was no sign of Lena either. She never left for school before I did, but the house was completely silent. It was possible that she could have gone in a bit early to try to talk her way out of all the makeup work she was destined to have. I still could not figure out how she would get away with missing that much school along with her normal absences and not get in truancy trouble, but I guess it all went back to how money talks. Just as I made it to the living room, I heard Avan honk from the driveway.
Walking out the door, I set the alarm and locked the door behind me. I looked up to see Avan walking around the car, opening the door for me, as he did every time we were together. I could already tell he was going to have me very spoiled. Making my way to the open door, he took my bag and put it onto the polished, tan, leather interior of the back seat as usual. I slid into the passenger seat, buckling my seat belt as he closed the door and walked around sliding into the driver’s seat.
“You know we will have more time to check out Bridgepoint if we leave now right?”
“How did you—”
“It doesn’t matter how I knew. The important thing is that you need to know there is no way I would let you go by yourself,” he said, giving me a kiss on my forehead.
I still wondered how he always knew exactly what I was thinking, but I was getting to where I kind of liked it. It made it much easier to communicate when I wanted to tell him something during class, for sure. It reminded me of how my mom could always tell what my dad was thinking. Every time they would have a conversation, it was like they only had half of it with words, since my mom always seemed to answer him before he ever had to speak.
“Won’t people start asking questions if we miss school together?”
“People have started talking and asking questions anyway. We are the top conversation in every clique currently. I’m not worried. Let them wonder. I will be right next to you no matter what,” he said, sounding like a prince ready to rescue me from a dragon guarded castle.
“I’m not worried. I just don’t want to complicate your life with the weirdness of mine.”
“You are my life. You aren’t a complication, obligation, or annoyance, so stop thinking like that. I will do whatever it takes from now until forever to stand beside you and protect you. It’s my job.” He was so sincere it almost made me want to tear up. Though I’d never actually had a boyfriend until now I couldn’t imagine that this was typical boyfriend behavior. I had never been loved or considered by anyone the way I was by Avan.
“What about work?” I hated that he would lose money to escort me.
“There are plenty of people there. I’m sure they’ll manage.”
“Are you sure?”
“They’ve got more brains than they appear to have,” he added with a laugh.
I knew he had read my mind again, exposing my thought of how most people with big muscles have tiny brains and that he just happened to be an exception to the rule. On the other hand, it was good to know that he had faith in them. We would be gone for less than one day. What could possibly go wrong in that amount of time in a coffee shop, right?
Avan pulled out of Oceanview and sped up on the entrance ramp of the highway, turning on the heater as my teeth began to chatter. I had never asked him if he had been to Bridgepoint before, but he seemed to know right where he was going, so I saw no need to be a backseat driver. I almost forgot to ask him if he knew anything about Lorenzo until we passed a billboard with an advertisement for an Italian restaurant.
“Have you heard from Lorenzo?” I asked, prepared for him to tell me he had no clue how to get in touch with him since they just reacquainted.
“Yes,” he responded, taking me by surprise.
“Where is he? Is he okay?”
“Yeah, he had to go take care of some business for a while.” The way he responded told me there was more to the story than he was going to tell me.
“When will he be back?”
“To the Montgomery house? Probably never. To Oceanview? I’m not sure.”
It was beyond my understanding. Lorenzo had seemed so happy working for Damien and Lena. I was really going to miss him. I wanted to cry. Lorenzo was my only stability in the Montgomery house. What was so important that he had to leave? Didn’t he know I needed him? Maybe he just didn’t care.
“It isn’t like that Mattie.” Avan answered the questions running through my mind.
“Then what’s it like?”
“You’ll understand in time,” he said as if it were just that simple.
“You know what? I’m getting sick of everyone giving me that answer every time I have a question that needs an answer! Put yourself in my shoes, Avan! I can’t even function correctly or have a real conversation with anybody because I can’t even get a straight answer! All anyone wants to tell me is how in time I’ll figure it out! I’m tired of the stupid puzzles! I need some answers!” I never meant to scream, but that is how it came out of my mouth.
“I know. I’m sorry I can’t give you the answers you need. I promise I’m doing everything in my power to make sure this process doesn’t take longer than it has to. I’ll be here to support you through it, whether it means you need someone to yell at, cry on, or celebrate with along the way,” he said in a calm voice as he took my hand.
I had not even noticed until now that the same songs that I had on my favorite playlist form my MP3 player of eighties songs were coming through the speakers. I never told Avan I liked eighties music. It seemed he knew everything about me, down to the very specifics. There was nothing I could do to surprise him, that was for sure. On the other hand, if he could read my mind that well, I would always get what I wanted for my birthday and Christmas.
“I took the liberty of making mental notes of the songs you like and compiled a playlist for you. I hope you don’t mind.” Avan smiled, looking accomplished.
“You know, people aren’t going to want to be around me if you continue to spoil me.”
“Trust me, you have plenty of friends.”
“Good to know. Just be sure you don’t make me mad, or they might take my side and come beat you up!”
“They can try! I hope they are up for the challenge. I might mention, though, all your new buddies at Spirits are sore losers. They’ll cry when I win!” he shot back, sounding cocky.
I knew good and well that even counting my new friends at Spirits, Avan was right. There was no one who could win a fight against him. He could probably take on any person on the football team with his eyes closed. Not because he was a huge and inhumanly gross, muscular bodybuilder contestant whose neck measurement was larger than my thigh, but because he was hot muscular, like a GQ model and had brains and training behind his strategy.
“GQ model material, huh? I always pictured myself more of the Calvin Klein or Abercrombie type!” he said, smiling. I blushed that he caught that thought.
“Okay, however you do that…you can stop now! You have no need to know every thought that comes into my mind. Some of them are personal.”
“It isn’t a choice, I assure you, but you are correct about a few things. You don’t ever have to worry about getting a sucky present. I can take on the entire football team blind folded as well as any other sports team member from our athletically challenged high school. Every person employed at Spirits knows better than to cross me for any reason. And I do have brains as well as brawn. But you forgot to mention the most important thing of all about me!” he ended with a mock frown.
“What’s that superstar?”
“I have a girlfriend who is a hotter angel than any of Charlie’s angels!” He laughed, showing his dimple and raising his eyebrow at me for approval.
“I don’t know about all that.”
“Which part? Being hotter than Charlie’s angels or being my girlfriend?”
“The first part. I like the second part a lot!”
“I was hoping you’d say that!” He smiled from ear to ear.
“Well, now that I’m officially your girlfriend, I just have to warn you. You might be able to take on anybody else you come across, but if you make me mad, have no doubt that I will kick your butt!” I added as I took his hair down and messed it up with my hand.
I was so used to seeing Avan with his hair back I could not believe he could ever look hotter than he already did, but with his hair down, he was a million times more appealing than he had ever been. His hair fell right to his jaw line, dark brown with natural caramel highlights, and full of body as it parted in the middle and fell perfectly when he ran his hand through it to push it out of his face. Avan was not always sporting the clean-shaven look like Bradley and a few other guys at Spirits; he always had the rugged look as if he only shaved about every other day or so. It didn’t matter if he heard my thoughts or not at this moment in time. He was drop dead sexy!
About twenty minutes later, we exited the highway, passing a sign that let us know we were now in Bridgepoint city limits. I wanted this place to feel more familiar, but it was far from that. It felt like we had just landed in a foreign country and obviously did not belong. When I lived here, I had been the girl who tried to disappear into the crowd. My dad being a popular criminal defense attorney never exactly gave me brownie points with the parents of any of the other kids my age.
I was treated differently from everyone, including some of my teachers. The fact that my last name was Holland certainly was not in my favor in Bridgepoint. The small community was very conservative, so they not only disliked my dad’s profession, but they despised the attention it drew to their safe little community, afraid that the big bad criminals would move in and take over to be closer to their favorite attorney.
The first place we went was my old address. Pulling up in front of the street number, I jumped out of the car and ran up the sidewalk, unable to believe my eyes. The two-story house we had lived in since I was born was nothing but a concrete slab surrounded with piles of bricks that looked as if they had been used for charcoal. The mailbox was still standing by the sidewalk, but the house was completely gone, with the exception of burned bricks and a few pieces of charred wood. The yard had grown midway up our calves and had been overtaken with dandelions. The chain-link fence was still standing, and I could still make out the birdbath standing next to the tree in the backyard.
The tears that started slowly leaking from my eyes were rolling down my cheeks as I stared at the remains of my childhood home. In my mind, I had hopes of being able to pull up to the house and remember the times I played in the backyard with my dad on Saturdays and ran through the sprinkler in the front yard. I wanted to be able to look at my second-floor bedroom window and remember how it felt to know mom was fixing breakfast as dad was kissing her on the cheek, rushing out the door while I got ready for school. Now all of that was gone!
Not only were my parents gone, but for some unfair reason, it was evident that a fire of some type had stolen the house that kept their memories alive too. I wiped the tears from my eyes as Avan put his arms around me and held me tight as I cried. He ran his fingers through my hair and massaged my back as he let me get out all my angry tears, never rushing me or telling me to let it go. He just supported me and let me do what I needed to.
After I stopped crying, I dried my eyes and we decided to head to the next location. As we pulled in to Bridgepoint Memorial Hospital, I hoped that my Rudolph look had faded enough that people would not assume Avan was to blame when we went in. I pulled the visor down checking my reflection as Avan told me I looked just the way I always did, like an angel. To my surprise, my skin looked just as amazing as it always had since the morning after I put the gift from my mother in my bedroom. My eyes were still an exotic, electric blue piercing through my black hair and olive skin that had no signs of splotches or redness on my nose at all. Avan and I came up with a cover story that we would use in the hospital to get copies of any medical records they had on file for me and my parents. We went over the details a few more times to make sure we could prevent screwing up and exposing the fact that it was the farthest thing from the truth. After a few deep breaths and a supportive squeeze of my hand from Avan, he came around to open my door and we headed for the entrance.
Bridgepoint Memorial Hospital was the biggest building in town and supplied nearly half of the population’s employment. The hospital had no specialists to treat serious illnesses, but they could diagnose and refer elsewhere. For patients that required more than a week stay in the hospital, they were generally transferred to a bigger hospital in a neighboring town with doctors who specialized in different areas of medicine that fit the patient’s diagnosis for them to receive proper care. The hospital at Bridgepoint could deal with small to moderate emergencies, women’s health, short hospital stays, common injuries, lab work, pediatrics, and general health care.
Inside the main doors to the hospital, there was a list of offices and corresponding suite numbers along with the main areas of the hospital listed such as radiology, nursery, women’s center, pediatrics, emergency room, lab, doctor’s suites, and many more. Located near the bottom listed to be in suite 102 was Medical Records. Deciding this was the direction we needed to head, we turned to make our way down the hall when a lady in a pink jacket stopped us and asked us to come sign in and obtain a visitor badge before we actually went into the hospital.
She went through an explanation about patient safety and privacy, but most of it just sounded like blah, blah, blah in my ears, as all I could think about was the quest for answers I was on.
Once we had our visitor badges, we started heading back down the same way we had been five minutes before, trying to look as though we weren’t over eager to get where we were going. I wasn’t sure why I always felt as if everyone knew what I was up to when I was trying to be sneaky, when in reality the only one who really knew what I was always up to was Avan. This time, it just so happened that he was my partner in crime.
As we passed a large wall of windows that looked into a waiting room filled with teal and mauve vinyl-covered chairs full of friends and family members waiting to hear news about the conditions of their loved ones, I caught our reflection walking side by side and couldn’t help being distracted by the thought of how good of a couple we made and how great we looked together.
“I couldn’t agree more!” Avan said out loud as he took my hand without missing a beat.
We rounded a corner of the seemingly endless hallway, following the dark brown signs on the wall that pointed us in the direction of the hospital’s medical records department. As I put my hand on the doorknob, I took a deep, nervous breath, hoping that our plan would work. Avan placed his hand on the small of my back, giving the ends of my hair a playful tug to let me know it was going to be okay.
As I exhaled, I turned the knob and pushed the door open to enter a rather small area in front of a counter that was in the front of a room with several computers sitting on desks.
I found a clipboard on top of the counter and scribbled my name, the reason for my visit, and the time I arrived then joined Avan in one of the chairs along the wall about four feet behind me.
Being that we were the only two in the office, I did not think it would take long for them to call my name. I was wrong. We sat for fifteen minutes until the short, robust woman who sat behind the front counter called out my name lazily.
“Holland, Matalyn?” she said in a nasally voice.
“Yes ma’am. I’m Matalyn Holland.”
“I need to see your I.D., Ms. Holland,” she stated in a monotone nasal tone that clearly told me she was bored with her life.
Her name badge said her name was Rhoda Feltman. I pulled out my driver’s license and slid it to Rhoda’s side of the counter, where she then took it and made a copy.
“Fill out this form,” she said sliding my license back to me on top of a piece of paper.
I hated excess paperwork. All I needed were some old medical records. Was all this necessary? I took the paper after putting my license back into my purse and sat back down to fill it out. Same old questions as on every other lame document that every other office used for legal privacy purposes. I just wanted to hurry up and get out of here. The last thing I wanted to do was leave a paper trail in the event someone really was trying to find out information on me. Knowing I would never succeed in getting any records if I refused, I filled in all the blanks and handed the paper back to Rhoda, who started gazing over it.
“You need records for you and your parents?” she asked, as if she was confused about my request.
“Yes, they passed away, and I’ve had some medical issues come up, so I can’t ask them about their past medical history. I’m working while I go to school, so it’s hard to make ends meet. I need the records to make sure I continue to make the right medical decisions for this situation.”
“I’m not supposed to give out anything to anybody whose name doesn’t match the record, unless it’s to another doctor, for treatment purposes, if I think they’ll injure themselves or someone else, or unless there’s written consent to release,” Rhoda stated matter of factly.
“Considering their death was ruled a murder-suicide, I’m sure that’s going to be hard to attain.”
“Ms. Holland, the only way I can give you the copies you’re wanting is if it were pertinent to a medical emergency or medical necessity.”
“It is,” Avan said, walking up behind me.
“What kind of medical emergency are we talking about?” Rhoda asked with a look of doubt written all over her face.
“I really didn’t want to have to admit this due to embarrassment, but I will if you’re going to make me. I don’t guess I have any other choice in the matter,” I retorted.
“I’m gonna have to have a darn good reason to give you any records other than your own, so shoot,” Rhoda said sarcastically.
I knew this was going to take a lot more than the story Avan and I had come up with about recently being diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder and needing to see from which one of my parents I could have gotten it. Rhoda seemed like a tough cookie, so I was going to have to stun her into giving me what I wanted. Avan had opened his mouth to go with our original script we made up in the car when I cut him off, shocking all three of us.
“Look, Rhoda, I’m pregnant and in high school, my parents died in a murder-suicide, and if that isn’t bad enough, my dad, Kitrick Holland, was cheating on my mom, Evana Holland, with his mom, Sharon Mumford. We need to get those three medical records to see if we are related in order to decide if we need to consider the options here. I don’t want to kill our baby, but we had no idea we could be siblings until I was looking through my dad’s old files containing documents that suggested it could be a possibility after he died. We had only moved a few years before they died, so I had no idea my parents knew anyone in our town previously. If our child is at risk of having severe mental or physical impairments due to incest we need to know! No child deserves that kind of existence! We had no idea—”
“Stop right there, Ms. Holland,” Rhoda stated in a serious tone that made me feel like she caught onto my lie until she reached up, grabbed a tissue, and began wiping her eyes.
Avan was looking down at the floor shuffling his shoes with his left hand over his mouth and his right hand tucked into his pocket, clearly unaware of what to make of my little spectacle.
Looking at Avan, it appeared as if he was ashamed and embarrassed not wanting to make eye contact, but I could tell he had his hand over his mouth to mask his smile because he was about to blow my cover by laughing hysterically from shock value.
“I don’t need you to explain any further, Ms. Holland. What are the three names you need records for?”
“Kitrick Holland, Evana Holland, and Sharon Mumford.”
“Just a moment, and I’ll print them out for you,” Rhoda said calmly, as she was still affected by my whopper of a lie.
Within minutes, she had laid a large, yellow, sealed envelope on the counter with my name written on top.
“Matalyn, do you have a good doctor who can help you with all of this? We have several here at the hospital, as well as counselors, if you need someone to talk to,” Rhoda said, sounding motherly.
“I’ve got a really good doctor in Oceanview. Thank you for all your help. I’m sorry for having to bother you and put you in between a rock and a hard place,” I apologized, more so because I felt bad for lying to her being left without any other choice.
“God bless you both! Remember, Jesus always blesses those who put Him first, and no matter what the circumstances are God always has a plan! I will be praying for you both!” Rhoda said, so lovingly it made me want to cry and give her the real apology she deserved for lying my way into getting what I wanted.
Avan and I exited the office, heading back the way we had come in to the main doors. Once we were outside, Avan let out his suppressed laughter, asking me when I had discovered I was part of an immaculate conception and how he had not recalled God impregnating me with his offspring or having Sharon and my dad for his parents.
I playfully hit his arm and told him it was not funny and that I felt horrible for lying to her and making her cry because she felt sorry for me. Even though he was still laughing, he told me he never condoned lying and that angels like me were never supposed to lie, whatever that meant.
Once we were both back in the car, I opened the envelope to find four pieces of paper with very little information on them. The first piece of paper had my dad’s name followed by the words no information found. The next one looked exactly the same, with the exception of my mother’s name. The third sheet had Sharon Mumford’s name followed by the word unknown. The last piece of paper was one with my name that only signified my parents had used the hospital to order a birth certificate to show record of a home birth. That was it.
No other medical records even for myself. I had no records of ever receiving immunizations or checkups after my birth. I remembered never being sick as a child and needing to go to the doctor, but every newborn had to go through a series of vaccinations during their first few years of life. Why had I never had mine? Evidently, they had entered my parents’ names into their system when they had requested the certificate for my birth, but Sharon had never been on record at all. I had heard of naturalist parents who thought vaccinations were unnecessary, but my parents were always so carful and overprotective that it made no sense. In the tiny little town of Bridgepoint, all the doctors in town worked out of the hospital, so there was nowhere else to check for medical records.
As far as the record showed, I had never been to a doctor in my life. My mother had given birth to me at home. That was almost unheard of in modern times. On the information sheet about the request for a birth certificate, there was no name mentioned of a doctor, caretaker, or even a midwife. It appeared as though she and my dad delivered me by themselves at our old house.
On my quest for answers, I just seemed to be developing more questions instead. We decided to go look into public records at city hall next. All residences, property ownership and transfers, census information, and court documents could be found there. I knew there was bound to be a clue somewhere, and I was going to find it. There was no way a family could be living in this town for years without any record besides a law practice, charity work, and school records.
Someone had to know something. I had not forgotten about Sharon either. I wanted to know everything I could get my hands on about her. Sharon’s life story to the police did not add up at all in my book. The only reason they turned me over to her was to save the state money, considering there were never enough people willing to foster children to begin with. There were too many discrepancies with Sharon. I just had a funny feeling telling me there was a lot more to Sharon than met the eye. Maybe today would be my lucky day to find out.
After the clerk showed us several filing cabinets and volumes of materials that contained the public records of the years in question, Avan and I began digging. It took us three and a half hours to find documents on the house my parents and I had lived in; they showed when they bought it, who they sold it to before we moved, documents on the tiny building my dad had bought to use for an office and sold to a man who turned it into a pest service. Then there were the countless court cases that listed my dad as the defending attorney. Of all the searching, we could not find so much as a speeding ticket for my parents or Sharon. I suppose it was obvious that I was hungry from the crabby mood I was in, as Avan suggested we grab lunch at the local diner before heading to the public library to check out any newspaper articles or anything else we could find there.
Seeing as the diner was only two blocks from city hall, we chose to walk and get some fresh air on the way to curing our hunger problem. The cool temperatures did not even faze me as we made our way across the street.
The diner looked like any other mom-and-pop owned diner would. There was a chalkboard that read Please Seat Yourself that served a dual purpose, as it listed the daily lunch special below. The booths along the front window had cracked vinyl, and the shiny finish the tables once had was long gone.
A countertop with stools all the way across stretched in front of the work area left open for the waitress to cut desserts, keep condiments, and serve coffee, tea, fountain drinks, and refill water. Looking over the menu, it was easy to tell that the main ingredient for every dish was grease. Everything listed was either deep fried or grilled, but not the kind of grill you think of when you are cooking out next to the pool. Both of us decided on a burger and fries. The order came out quickly and was served in red, plastic baskets with red-and-white checked paper lining that our very greasy food sat on. Neither of us could eat more than half of our order out of fear that we would be sick if we tried.
We decided it was time to venture to the library in hopes of finding something that would make me feel like this trip was not just a waste of Avan’s work time, gas money, and a pointless amount of makeup work for both of us. We hopped in the car and headed to the other end of town.
The other end of town was not far at all, considering it only took seven minutes to get there and we caught two red lights along the way. We pulled into a parking spot in front of a gray stucco building that had a sign in front, which let us know we made it to the right spot. Avan came around and opened my door, locked the car, and once more we were walking up another neglected Bridgepoint sidewalk. As we entered the front door of the library, there was a circular desk straight ahead where a medium-built, middle-aged woman with brown hair streaked with gray sat, looking down through her reading glasses at a book.
As I approached the woman sitting at the desk, I almost felt rude for interrupting her, even though I knew it was her job to help me find what I needed. Leaning over the desk, I whispered softly, asking where we could find archived newspapers of the last seventeen years; I felt like I was yelling even though I could barely hear what I said. The lady reacted as if I had spoken right out loud as she smiled and told us to follow her. She led us to the back of the library, where we entered a room; she explained that they kept all the newspaper articles on microfiche.
Before letting us dig in, she asked if we had ever used a microfiche system before, offering us a brief tutorial. We told her the school librarians had taught us and we had both used it for research in the past. Seeming satisfied with our answers, she left us to our searching as we divided up the years into halves in order to cut down on research time. Avan and I hit the materials as though someone had mentioned that there was a winning lottery ticket hidden in their midst. We went through each one that fit in the time frame to see what we could find.
I had taken the first eight and half years, and Avan had taken the last. I had gone through a ton of articles when I found one that stood out with headlines that jolted me.
Local Couple Suspected in Kidnapping of Popular Defense Attorney’s Only Child
Three-month-old, Matalyn Renell Holland, daughter of Kitrick and Evana Holland, was taken from her crib in her parents’ home early Sunday morning. Police made statements confirming that the alarm system had been set off and there were signs of forced entry to the front door of the home. Mr. Kitrick Holland, the well-known CA defense attorney, received a letter at his office the following day, demanding that he not involve police any further regarding the whereabouts of his child if he wanted her to remain unharmed. Miraculously, that afternoon, a resident who wishes to remain anonymous noticed a couple who was acting peculiar at a park. The couple, Cheryl Felesky and Damron Griswol, had an infant that was inconsolable, and the couple didn’t seem to know what to do with the child. The resident then made the instrumental call to local officials that lead to the safe recovery of the child. Felesky and Griswol told police during questioning that they found the child on the park bench where they had stopped to rest while traveling and were trying to console the child before taking her to the hospital. Shortly after being questioned at the police station, the two suspects could not be located after they’d been asked not to leave town. If you have seen these two individuals, please contact local officials, as they are wanted in an ongoing kidnap investigation.
As if the article had not said enough, there were photos of Cheryl Felesky and Damron Griswol underneath. I felt the color drain from my face as I saw the photos, recognizing both of them. I lost the ability to find my voice as I sat in shock. Avan must have sensed that something was wrong, as he stopped what he was doing to see me sitting rigid in my chair in complete disbelief; I realized the photos below the article were none other than the people I knew as Sharon Mumford and Damien Montgomery.
Grabbing a bottle of water from my purse and taking a drink, I noticed Avan was still staring at me with deep concern. Clearing my throat, I finally found my voice and explained to him what I had found. I moved my chair over to let him read the article and see the photos as I explained who the two people were. We copied down the information from the article, including the date of the newspaper and any other details that we would need to back up our story, and then gathered our things without even putting back the slides we had gotten out. We both started for the front door and headed to the car as quickly as possible. There is no explanation for how we both knew what the other one was thinking, but without a doubt, Avan and I both knew exactly where the next stop would be even though it had been unplanned.
Less than five minutes later, we pulled up in front of the Bridgepoint Police Station. We ran into the building to a small area with a window where a dispatcher sat; she also answered phones and did reception work. The dispatcher had stress lines on her forehead, minimal makeup, and her hair in a ponytail. She wore regular police attire but without a gun.
“What can I do for you?” she asked without looking up.
“I need to speak to the lead detective who worked a kidnapping case sixteen years ago.”
“Do you have a case number?”
“No, but you would probably remember the case. A defense attorney, Kitrick Holland, was involved. His daughter, Matalyn Holland, was kidnapped?” I asked, hoping to jog her memory.
“Yeah, I remember the case, it’s the only abduction we’ve ever had in Bridgepoint.”
“Do you know who was heading up the case?”
“Yeah, I think it was Jonesy,” she replied.
“Is he in? I really need to speak with him. It’s pretty urgent.”
“I think he’s back in his office. I can page him and see if he’s got a minute. Can I tell him your name?” she asked, still not raising her head from the computer screen.
“Sure, tell him Matalyn Holland is here to speak with him.”
As soon as the words came out of my lips, the dispatcher dropped the pen she had in her hand onto the desk, looking at me as though she was seeing a ghost. Without wasting a second more, she paged Detective Jonesy and let him know I was there to speak with him. Just as I thought he would, he agreed to see us. The dispatcher told us to have a seat and he would be right out to get us.
When the door leading back into the building opened a tall, athletic man with a crew cut looked at me as he asked me if I was Matalyn Holland. I nodded, and he asked us to follow him into his office so that we could discuss matters privately. Walking into the doorway, I noticed the walls were painted white. Lined one right after the other were framed photos of officers from the past and present. The frames had nameplates on them with the officers’ names and years of service with the force. Those who held rank had their position labeled on the plate as well.
Detective Jonesy’s office was the last door on the right. Going inside, the walls were the same color as the hallway, though decorated quite differently. On one wall Detective Jonesy had a display of awards he had been given for his exemplary work in the criminal justice field. On the wall adjacent to it was a display of several medals, awards, and plaques he had been given from the U.S. Marine Corps for his exemplary work for our country.
In each of the two corners behind his desk there was a flag, and on the wall above his chair was a wall hanging of the Marine Corps Semper Fi emblem. In the right corner stood the American flag and on the left was the state flag. His desk looked as if it had definitely seen better days. It was metal and painted a drab green color. The drawers squeaked when they opened and wouldn’t shut unless they were slammed. There were obvious stains from coffee mugs that had left their signature on the desktop. Stacks of folders sat on one end of the desk, and an outdated computer monitor sat on the other. Two older-looking yellow chairs sat in front of the desk where Avan and I sat quietly.
“Matalyn Holland, you’ve grown up quite a bit since I last saw you,” Detective Jonesy said as he closed the office door and made his way around his desk to sit in the chair.
“Yes sir, I have.”
“And what is your name, sir?” Detective Jonesy asked, looking over to Avan.
“My name is Avan Rork, sir,” Avan responded without a hint of the nervousness that I was being swallowed by.
“Matalyn, I understand you want to discuss a case?”
“Yes sir, the one where I was kidnapped.”
“Yes, we were very lucky we were able to find you before the suspects left town with you,” Detective Jonesy said as he picked up the coffee cup from his desk and took a drink.
“I wanted to ask a few questions about the investigation if I could,” I asked hesitantly.
“I’ll tell you all I know, but I have to warn you that it isn’t much,” he said as he looked over at Avan.
“I understand you never arrested the suspects. Is that correct?”
“That is correct.”
“I know where they are. They are going by different names and living in Oceanview!” I said, feeling myself getting worked up.
“Matalyn, what all do you know about the investigation?”
“Only what I found in an old newspaper article.”
“Well, I’m just going to tell you like it is, okay? I don’t have much information due to circumstances surrounding the investigation. We couldn’t move forward with anything. Everything we tried led us to a dead end. Your parents actually dropped the case, leaving us empty handed. It was shut on us before we even got started with it. I understand that your parents are no longer here, and unfortunately, with you being a minor and not having memory of the event, we would need your parents to press charges against these people. Statute of limitations says they would have to be charged with the crime by your twenty-eighth birthday. The problem here is that other than your parents and the mystery citizen who made the phone call alerting us to the park, there were no other witnesses to prove anything.
“Nobody saw them take you, and even the person calling in reported all they saw was two people at the park acting weird with a baby. We couldn’t prove that their story was a lie. The only thing they actually did wrong was leave town before the investigation was wrapped up. Since your parents dropped all charges and shut the case for us, we didn’t have a right to arrest them anymore. At this point a case against them would be circumstantial at best, and I don’t see a judge or jury putting two people away for circumstantial evidence,” he stated without sugar coating anything.
“Why would my parents drop the charges and shut the case?” I asked, blown away that my dad, infamous for his career in law, would just back down without a fight.
“Matalyn, I have asked myself the same question for years. If I could come up with even a halfway decent answer and make you feel better, I would.”
“Well, thank you for all your help,” I said as I shrugged my shoulders, not knowing what else to say.
“Anytime, Matalyn. You’ve really grown up to be a beautiful young lady. It’s hard to think the last time I was this close to you how tiny you were. I bet you didn’t weigh much more than ten to fifteen lbs.”
“Oh, I do have one more question before I go.”
“I’ll try to answer it the best I can,” Detective Jonesy said. He kept glancing over at Avan.
“When did our old house burn down?”
“That happened last year. An older couple had been living there and left for vacation. Forgetting to blow out a candle, they took off on a road trip to Iowa to see their daughter. They hadn’t been gone for over an hour when the candle set the living room curtains on fire and it went up like a bonfire.”
“Oh okay, well at least no one was injured,” I replied sadly as Avan and I made our way to the door.
After exiting the station, we got back in the car and headed down the highway back toward Oceanview. I now had interesting new information about Sharon and Damien or whatever their actual names were. I just couldn’t figure out what they could have wanted with me or what they thought they could possibly gain by kidnapping me. I really felt uncomfortable staying in the Montgomery house at all now. Avan offered to find me a place to stay, but after thinking about the circumstances at hand, I thought it would be more dangerous for everyone if I gave them any inclination that I had dirt on them.
I still needed more answers before I made any kind of move. This was like a game of chess that I was playing with my life, so I had to be careful. The rest of the ride home was quiet due to me being too tired to focus on conversation. Avan told me to relax and get some rest, which would have been a great idea if I could find some way to avoid ever having to go home. I could feel my life starting to unravel, and I did not like it one bit.