Jamie Garrett - Riley Reid 03 - Ends and Beginnings Page 5

  I didn’t say anything. Instead I stopped caressing the Trans Am and stood up straight with my back to Kevin. He was my uncle. The only remaining question was whether or not he realized it yet.

  “What’s your dad’s name?” asked Kevin.

  “Troy Reid. I’m his daughter.”

  There was silence. Then I felt someone lightly grab my shoulders from behind. Kevin turned me around so he could get a look at my face.

  “You’re my brother’s daughter?” Kevin was shocked.

  I stuck out my hand for Kevin to shake again. “I’m Riley Reid, and I think I’m your niece.”

  Q & A

  Kevin invited me inside his house. He insisted that I have dinner with him and his family. It felt a bit strange. There I was, a stranger invited to have a meal with strangers. With that said, as awkward as it was, I enjoyed it.

  I wasn’t introduced as Kevin’s niece. He just told them my name and that I was eating with them that evening. His family seemed a little surprised, but they were still nice to me.

  My uncle Kevin had a wife named Angelica. She was the pretty, red-headed woman I saw earlier from the doorway. From my first impressions, she was a nice lady. Understandably, she seemed a little suspicious of me, but that faded as the meal went on.

  Kevin had two kids. One was eight and her name was Belle. She looked a lot like her mother, with intensely red hair. The other child was a boy, Russell, maybe five years old. He had blonde hair and was a little pudgy. Both were very polite.

  Russell was the one to ask who I was. The question came after we’d been eating for a while. They had already asked me what I did for a living and why I was there.

  When Kevin answered for me and told them that I was his niece, they looked shocked. Angelica was clearly relieved. She must’ve thought there was something going on between me and her husband.

  After dinner, Angelica cleaned up. The kids went into the family room to watch some television. Kevin and I went to his office to talk.

  The office was predictably nice. There were leather chairs and a couch. Tall bookshelves that went from the hardwood floor to the ceiling were filled with all types of books. Many of them were medically based.

  Kevin sat behind his desk that looked like it cost more than my apartment. He opened a drawer and took out a bottle of brandy, and two glasses. I was offered a drink but I turned it down, politely.

  “I guess I’ll start,” said Kevin. He poured himself some brandy. “Our parents had me when they were in their forties. My mom called me ‘the best kind of surprise’. See, they had no intention of having another kid. Troy was born when they were in their early twenties. So there was more than a twenty year gap between us.”

  “That must’ve been … well it must’ve been weird.”

  “It was a little bit weird. But for the most part it was like being an only child. By the time I was born, Troy had already moved out of the house, so I only saw him every once and awhile. Every time he did come around, though, it was in that car.

  “As a kid, the Trans Am, it just looked cool. It had that firebird and the cool black paintjob. I loved it. I became fascinated with it. My mom even got me toy versions. I must’ve had at least twenty of them.” Kevin screwed the cap back on his bottle of brandy and put it back in the desk drawer. “Whenever Troy came by, which wasn’t often, I made him give me a ride.”

  “What was he like? I mean how do you remember him?” Honestly, I wasn’t too interested in Kevin’s fascination with my dad’s car. I wanted to know about the man it belonged to.

  Kevin took a sip of his brandy. “Like I said, I was young. The only things I really remember was that whenever he came home to visit, he and my parents would argue. He got into a lot of trouble with the police, on a regular basis. In fact, once they even showed up at our house. I think it was Thanksgiving or Christmas, I’m not sure which. We were eating dinner and they came knocking.”

  “What’d they want?”

  “Apparently, Troy had been dealing drugs. Someone tried to rob him and he stabbed the guy. Troy spent two years locked up for it. When he got out, he stopped coming around. He stopped calling and visiting us. I think he was angry at our parents. He thought they betrayed him by telling the cops that he was there.

  “I never saw or heard from him again after the night he got arrested. Time went by, I got older and I stopped thinking about it. And I know this sounds awful, but I tried to forget about him.

  “Then my parents passed away when I was twenty-three,” said Kevin in a solemn voice.

  “I’m sorry.” I didn’t have to ask how my grandparents died. I already knew. Not long before my parents abandoned me, I found my dad crying in the bathroom. He went there to get away from me and my mom. It was the only time I’d ever seen him sad. I’d seen him angry and happy, but never sad.

  When I asked my dad what was wrong, he told me my grandparents had died. There was a bad car accident. A drunk teen slammed into them, killing them. Of course, the teen only got a few scratches but I think he’s still in jail.

  “Thank you, but I’m the one who should be sorry.”

  “For what?”

  Kevin took another sip of his brandy. “For not being around. For not reaching out. For not finding you. You see, I knew about you. I never met you, Troy never brought you over to my parents’ house, but I knew about you.”

  “By my math, you were only what … seven when I was born. And you were twenty-three when my folks left. What could you have done? Adopt me? You probably weren’t even out of medical school, right?” I meant every word that I said.

  “Yeah, I was still in school. How’d you figure that out?”

  The books on his shelves and the big house clued me in that he was in a medical profession. Also the way he carried himself, the way he talked clued me in. “I’m a PI, remember?”

  Kevin smiled and finished his brandy. “That’s right. Being in medical school still isn’t a good excuse though. Anyway, life went on. Two years after my parents died, I got a call from a detective in Stone Harbor. He told me his name was Richard Greyson. Troy was missing, along with his wife. Then he told me that you were left behind. And he wanted to know if I was interested in taking custody of you.

  “You were my niece, but I’d never even met you. You were a stranger. So when he asked me about him adopting you, I felt like I had dodged a bullet. I wasn’t ready for that type of responsibility. I wasn’t even done with school yet.

  “The years went by without hearing anything about Troy. After five years, I figured he was either dead or never coming back. I met Angelica and we got married. Then we had Belle. Then Russell. My life was so busy, so full. I never found the time to reach out to you. For that, again, I’m deeply sorry. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me.”

  It’s never nice to hear that you were a low priority. It bothered me a little bit. But I didn’t want to the ruin the night by asking too many questions. Despite all of my private investigator instincts, I just went with it.

  “Again, there is nothing for you to be sorry for. I understand.”

  Kevin smiled, but didn’t look me in the eye for about a minute. He felt ashamed. It didn’t matter how many times or ways I told him not to, he would.

  “When Troy first disappeared, I was left with nothing from him. I had very few memories and no pictures. So I went after the one thing I did remember about him. I went after the car.

  “I found it in Richmond with the same guy who led you here. After buying, it I fixed it up. At the time, I actually drove it. Now, it just sits out there in the garage. Some people have photo albums. I have that Trans Am.”

  Kevin took out the brandy again. He poured himself some more of the amber liquor. “I’m guessing you’re investigating what happened to your dad? Have you learned anything?”

  “On second thought, I think I’ll have some of that,” I said, as I pointed at the bottle of brandy in Kevin’s hand.

  “Sure,” said Kevin as he took out
the second glass again. He poured me about the equivalent of a double shot.

  “Where to begin?” I asked right before downing the brandy. “I’d been looking for a long time. Richard, the man you spoke to, he took me in after my parents disappeared. I’ve looked for them in the past. But nothing ever came of it. Not until a couple of months ago.”

  “What happened a couple of months ago?”

  “Richard, he was able to get a friend of his in the DMV to track down the registration. Then he got an address. And he gave it to me.”

  Kevin squinted, and the inside of his eyebrows went down and the outsides went up. “Why didn’t he do that earlier? Why wait ‘til just a couple of months ago?”

  “I think he didn’t want me to find him. Not because he’s a bad man or he didn’t want me to be happy. I think Richard would prefer I moved on from my life before he took me in. He didn’t just want to be the man who took in, he wanted me to be family.”

  “Is he?”

  “Is he what, my family or the man who took me in?”

  Kevin nodded.

  “He’s both, I suppose.”

  “What happened when my brother left? Do you remember? Was there anything strange about him or his behavior before he left?”

  “He dealt drugs, so everything about his behavior was a little strange. Add in the fact that he sampled his product on a regular basis.”

  “Jesus, Riley! How could you live like that?”

  “It wasn’t that bad. He never hit me or abused me in any way. At times, he could be a good dad. That made the times that he wasn’t so good more bearable.”

  Kevin finished his second glass of brandy. “And that night? That’s when he, they, left right?”

  “They said they were going out for the night. My mom gave me some money to order some pizza. And they just never came back.”

  “That’s all?”

  “That’s it.”

  We kept talking for what seemed like an hour but ended up being three or four. It was nice. I was comfortable and felt safe in Kevin’s home.

  Kevin got up. He had his glass in one hand and took mine in the other. My newfound uncle headed towards his kitchen. “You staying in town tonight?!” I heard him yell from the kitchen.

  I got up. “I’m going to try and find a hotel or something.”

  Kevin met me in the foyer as I was heading for the door. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re staying with us for the night.”

  “I can’t…” I protested, but not convincingly or whole-heartedly. My uncle picked up on it.

  “It’s the least that I can do. We have a guest bedroom. You stay there for the night. There’s no sense in you paying money for somewhere to sleep. Plus I gave you booze. What kind of doctor would I be if I let you drive now?”

  I spent the night at my uncle’s house. His guest bedroom was bigger than my apartment. The décor was much nicer, more inviting. Either Angelica was an interior decorator or they paid well for a professional.

  When I woke up, it was to the smell of pancakes and bacon. It didn’t smell quite as good as the Side Car, but my mouth watered all the same. Groggy and sleep-eyed, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen.

  The whole Reid family was wide awake and at the table. I quickly discovered that Kevin had informed his family who I was. Just like that, overnight, they started treating me like family. All that kindness made me a little uncomfortable.

  After we ate, I said my goodbyes and went out the front door. I needed to continue to search for my parents. Trouble was, I didn’t know where to go from here. I thought about my father’s invented alias. Maybe there was a record of Barry Porter buying another car after he sold the Trams Am, or renting something. I was willing to bet that security deposit was long gone.

  Before I reached my car, Kevin came jogging out of the house. He had something in his hand. It looked like a letter.

  “Wait up for a second!” said Kevin as he got close. When he reached me, he handed me the letter.

  I looked at the letter Kevin gave me. It was unopened. My name was scrawled across the front. The white of the envelope was yellowing. That was a sign of age.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “I got it in 2001, shortly after your dad vanished. It was in a bigger envelope that had a note in it. The sender was Troy Reid,” explained Kevin.

  “What did the note say?” I asked as I stared at the envelope with my name on it.

  “Not much. He asked that if I ever met you, that I give you this.”

  I started to open the envelope. Not knowing what was inside was unbearable. Curiosity had always controlled me.

  Kevin stopped me from opening it. He made sure to make eye contact with me. “As much as I’d like to know what’s written in there, that’s for your eyes only. And I’m willing to be bet that it was likely meant to be read in private.”

  The Second Man

  I found a nice place to park in Roanoke. It was downtown, near a fountain and a park. The weather was unseasonably warm. Lots of people were out. There was also a hot dog stand close by. That helped.

  Alone in my car, I decided to read my father’s letter. It might’ve held a clue to further my search. And even though the trip had given me an uncle, I wouldn’t go home until I found my dad.

  Hey baby,

  I know you have some questions. Why did we leave you? Where did we run off to? Im sorry I cant tell you wear we are. And I dont think you will ever see us again. Me and your mother stole from a very bad man. He wont stop looking for us till we are dead. I know we have no right to ask you for a favor honey. But we need you to stay away from anyone that has anything to do with a man called Harlan Greene. I put a photo in this letter. I need you to look at it and then go there. You will find more answers. It is not safe to tell you what in this letter. When you get there you will know what to do.

  Love your dad.

  The grammar in my dad’s letter was pretty bad. That was good and encouraging. He never made it out of middle school.

  There was a photo inside the envelope, just like my dad said. It was of a tall oak tree with gnarled branches that extended far out from its trunk. It was a tree that I recognized. When I was a kid, I used to climb it whenever my parents took me to Valentine Park in Stone Harbor.

  I was hoping for something more. The note had no answers. But it did provide me with a name, “Harlan Greene.” I’d never heard of him before. If my dad thought it was important to mention him, then he was worth looking into.

  Right there, in the car, I took out my laptop. The first thing I tried was to enter in the name into a search engine. Surprisingly, I got some results. And none of them were positive or encouraging.

  The first article I opened was about Harlan Greene being arrested for racketeering. From what I read, he was suspected of having his hand in a variety of illegal activities, including extortion, drug trafficking, murder and even prostitution. He was not a nice man.

  None of the other articles I read about Harlan Greene were any better than the first. They were horrific tales of violence and vice. He was believed to control the flow of drugs from as far south as North Carolina, north as far as Delaware and west as far as Kentucky. His bust by the FBI was said to be one of the biggest success stories in the long history of the bureau.

  I changed the search filter in the browser so that it looked for images. There were quite a few pictures of Mr. Greene. One caught my attention. Underneath it was a name: “Harlan ‘Horror’ Greene.” It wasn’t a mug shot; it was a still from a surveillance video.

  Harlan Greene was a younger man in the photo. It was taken in 1995, so he must’ve aged significantly since then. From what I saw, the crime lord had intensely blue eyes, a balding head of brown hair, and there were tattoos up and down his neck, on all sides.

  Even in the captured form of an image, Harlan Greene looked fierce. His eyes seemed to look straight through me. Why my father would try and screw over a man like that was beyond me. It seemed like a very fo
olish thing to do. He must’ve had a good reason.

  I closed my laptop. When I took a look around, something caught my eye. Next to the fountain, there was a man staring straight at me. I could have been imagining things, but he looked like the same shady man I saw when leaving Sunny View. Maybe it was a coincidence, but it’s better to be safe than sorry, and so it was time to move on.

  I turned on my car, and left the park and fountain. Two states away, to the west, Kentucky awaited me. Specifically, I was heading towards Warren County. According to my research, that was where Harlan Greene was locked up. Before heading back towards Stone Harbor and Valentine Park, I’d have words with him.

  Call from a Friend

  I found a trashy motel to stay in for the night. Comfort was not among my chief concerns. Staying hidden was more important. Ever since Carol mentioned someone was looking for me, I’d been a little paranoid. Seeing the shady-looking man at Sunny View and near the fountain made me even edgier.

  The motel I stayed at was called, “The Reservation”. It was a crude homage to Native Americans. Personally, I found the big smiling Indian Chief on its sign inappropriate, if not a little racist. Considering its location, in the middle of nowhere and hidden in the woods, they could get away with it.

  My room had a small table. On top of it was a lamp and a cheap coffee maker with a stained glass pot. I made myself some coffee. In front of me was the letter from my dad. Next to the letter was the photo of Hangman’s Tree. Next to that was my cell phone.

  I just sat there, sipping my coffee and staring at the letter and photo. Suddenly, there was a rumbling noise that caught me off guard and made my heart skip a beat and butterflies rise in my stomach. What the hell was it? Turns out, it was my phone. I’d forgotten it was on vibrate.

  Sam was calling. I picked up. “Hello?”

  “Riley? I found him. I found the arsonist!” Sam was nearly yelling.