Don't You Remember (17 page)

I walked through a small tunnel and into another room and discovered a grown woman nursing a baby. She looked like the girl that had gone missing years ago, but older. The case had been reopened and I was the chief investigator.

“Ma’am, are you all right?” I asked, my eyes dodging from the beast to the woman.

“I am perfect. I am happy, very happy. Please put your gun down. You do not need it here.”

I put the gun back in the holster and took a small photograph from my shirt pocket. “Ma’am, is this a picture of you?”

“It is,” she confirmed.

I was confused. “What are you doing here? Who does this child belong to?”

“This child is mine.”

“You can’t keep a child down here.”

“Why not? Can you see any problems with where I live?”

“Well no, not exactly. But you cannot walk down the tunnel to get out, you could drown with the water.”

“But I don’t use that entrance or exit. That is how I get in and out. It’s our front door,” she explained, pointing to some stairs.

“Has this man hurt you?”

“Do I look hurt? No,” she said answering the question she had asked me. “I was running away from an abusive family. My father tried to marry me off to some guy who was twice my age, a man with two other wives and I was going to be shipped off to another country. I was treated like cattle. My mother could do nothing but watch in horror. The same thing happened to my sister and I have never seen her again. My father told me I had no choice in the matter and that if I did not do what I was told then there would be huge consequences. My father is a mean person, he would have crippled me, put me in a dark room and never let me out. So you see, I did not want to be found. Benny found me,” the woman said, pointing to the beast man. “He might not be everyone’s ideal man, but he is mine. He has loved and cherished me, protected me and given me a wonderful child.”

I moved over closer to the lady so that I could take a look at the baby. “Your baby is beautiful.”

“Yes, she is. I don’t ever want to go out into that world again. Into a world where Benny will never be treated like a proper man; and he is a wonderful man, the best any woman could ever find. I don’t want my father to find me, to track me down.”

I nodded understanding. “So you don’t want to be found? What about your child?”

“What about my child? My child will have a better life with us than out there in a world with cruel people who will not accept her father and worrying one day she will not have a mother. Because she won’t have a mother if we leave here.”

“Why don’t you move to another place?”

“We will, in time. We will do what we have to do. But for now, the three of us are happy.”

“I understand,” I said, gently squeezing the girl’s shoulder. “Not everything is as it seems. When I get back to the station I will close your case. Your secret is safe with me.”

And with that I woke up, remembering the words: ‘Not everything is as it seems.’  I was wide awake by now and didn’t think there was much chance I would go back to sleep. I decided to get up and have a shower then dressed putting on my jeans and t-shirt. I rested my sunglasses on top of my head to hold back my shoulder length hair and walked down to the 7 Eleven store to buy some eggs and a loaf of bread.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Johnny had been for an early morning ride around Central Park and was absolutely famished when he returned. He placed his bike up against the wall, walked to his kitchen and opened up the fridge to see what he wanted for breakfast. He felt like toast and eggs but realized he was out of eggs. Johnny looked at this watch. It was still early, only 7.30am, what would be open? 7 Eleven. He picked up his keys and some loose change from a little jar he kept on the windowsill and walked down the stairs.

*****

Pushing the turnstile, I entered the 7 Eleven store, walked through, picked up a small basket and browsed the aisles. The store looked fairly empty so I made a mental note that this was a good time to shop. I reached the chilled goods and clocked the egg cartons. I placed one into my basket and walked down to the bread aisle. There was one other person down the aisle, a man. I looked him over, checking him out from behind, safe in the knowledge that he could not see what I was doing. The man was wearing track bottoms. I noted he must have come to the store after doing some exercise. I selected a loaf of granary bread and walked towards the cashiers. Turning around once to clock the man’s backside, I laughed at myself realizing this was probably the first time I had looked at another man’s toosh and really liked what I saw.

The truth is, the man’s butt reminded me a little of Johnny’s fit bum, and because of that Johnny had popped up in my thoughts; I was annoyed that he still hadn’t bothered to return my call. Who did he think he was? Did he think he was that much better than me that he couldn’t even be bothered to return my call? Just to say hello to an old friend, an old lover? I felt disgusted that I had previously held him in such high regard. Johnny could go to hell.

*****

Johnny took a loaf of bread from the middle shelf and then reached up for some jam. He felt someone’s eyes on him. Oh boy, he wanted to be anonymous this morning, but if the person asked for an autograph he would, of course, provide one. He listened to the person behind him walk away and turned around quickly. Phew, no autograph required. He turned back and then thought about what he had just seen. He turned back for a second look and viewed the back of the woman from top to toe. Nice he thought. Very nice. Jen entered his thoughts briefly because the woman walking away from him had a similar figure. He looked at her hair and compared it to Jen’s. Same colour, different style. He took a deep breath, turned around and scanned the shelves continuing to shop.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Work was very busy. I sat at my desk making more phone calls than I care to count trying to follow up on a terrorist, Abdul Dali, due out of prison. Abdul was not his birth name, he was born Christopher Loston and changed his name and religion completely after meeting a girl and marrying her. As I looked more into his background I realized Abdul was a foster child, in and out of many homes and, after his marriage to Aaliyah Dali, Abdul changed his name and finally felt he truly belonged to a family.

Abdul’s new family embraced him in a way Abdul had never experienced. Society had let him down, but his new family believed family was everything and he was now part of that. For once that meant he was everything to them, a very important person, not just a number. They educated him to be a terrorist, teaching him their beliefs and how to make bombs. He was essentially their scapegoat. When he was caught he would not give up his new family, telling the police it was all him; no one else was involved.

I wanted to find out if he was rehabilitated or if he was still a threat to our country. I had the phone number of several psychiatrists who had consulted on the case and I had the name of the leading detective, Sam Patterson who arrested Abdul. The bane of my life was finding the now retired lead detective who appeared to not want to be found. I eventually and fortunately tracked Sam down and ended up having a very in depth hour long conversation to find out everything I could about the case and also what his views were on Abdul’s release. The psychiatrists were a nuisance claiming they would only discuss what they felt was in the public interest and would not divulge anything the terrorist had said in private, due to doctor/patient confidentiality.

For some reason, I decided to follow up on the call I made to Hunter Management, just to make sure Johnny received my message. I dialed the number.

“Hello, Hunter Management, Amelia speaking, how can I help you?”

“Hello, Amelia, this is Jen Redman. I called you last week and left a message for Johnny Cromwell.”

“Yes… And?”

“And, I’m calling to make sure he got the message.”

“Yes, he got the message,” Amelia huffed, rolling her eyes.

“You’re sure he got the message?”

“Yes, I gave it to him myself,” she lied, hoping the caller would get the message to back off.

“All right, thank you,” I said, hanging up the phone. This finally confirmed he had no desire to contact me, or even to be friends.

I hardly moved from my desk all day, only to get up to go to the bathroom or get myself a drink and something to eat. I had organized to meet Daniel at 7.30pm at the front of my office building. I thought I might have to cancel because my report needed to be finished tonight and it took much longer than I had expected. Typically with me, I always begun a report expecting it to take a long time to complete, but once I started writing I just didn’t stop. The words always flowed for me; I was able to get myself into that ‘writing zone’ very quickly. I guess writing was my gift; it came easily to me. I finished my report bang on 7.30pm with not a minute to spare. I switched off my computer grabbing my bag and my lightweight lined fitted black velvet jacket.

Inside the lift I got a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I put my jacket on and then turned my body around to see what I looked like from behind. I ruffled my hair and noticed it was past my shoulders now. My jeans fit my body nicely and I had paired them with my high heel ankle boots, which gave my bottom a little lift. I fumbled through my bag and found my lip gloss and applied it. The lift stopped at ground level and I walked to the front door and saw Daniel waiting outside for me.

“Hello, lovely,” Daniel said, putting his arm around me and giving me a hug.

“Hello. What a day. I didn’t know if I was going to make it. I’m famished. Let’s go out for dinner.”

“Umm… no,” he said excitedly. “You are going to love me. I’ve only gone and got us tickets to Johnny Cromwell and The Fuel Injectors.”

“What?” I paused not knowing how to respond.

“That’s right, it was a sold out gig. In fact these tickets are so hard to get, Rosie was given them by one of her clients and she can’t go. So guess who got the tickets? Yours truly,” he said, pouting and being very camp. “Come on, we need to get to Madison Square Garden.” Daniel linked his arm with mine. “Come on, we need to walk faster, but it’s not far to go. Aren’t I just the best friend any girl could have?”

“Oh, well… sure.”

“What’s do you mean, oh, well sure? You should be jumping for joy and thanking me. Don’t you like them? I was sure you liked Johnny Cromwell and The Fuel Injectors. I’ve seen lots of their CDs at your place.”

He had noticed my secret addiction to Johnny’s band. “Yes, I like them. It’s just I didn’t expect to be going to a concert tonight. It’s been a busy day, that’s all.”

“Well, darling, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Come on, live a little. Let’s pick up our pace or we will be late. You can grab a sandwich on the way.”

And that was that. I was going to see Johnny Cromwell and The Fuel Injectors in concert. I still felt raw that he hadn’t bothered to return my call. It doesn’t take a genius to know the right thing to do was to return a call from an old friend - it was polite, good manners. Had he lost those too? He hadn’t bothered to call me when his mum gave him my letter, so why had I ever thought he might return my latest call? I felt like a twit.

“Oh, and darling, did you hear Johnny is going out with Eliza Blanking? You know, the supermodel? What a pair, I mean wouldn’t they make beautiful baby’s together?”

“Mmm, I guess,” I said unenthusiastically.

“But don’t worry, lovely, she’s nothing on you.” He winked.

We walked quickly, dodging the oncoming people traffic. It was busy tonight, but there was a sold out concert on. We unlinked arms when necessary to move forward through the crowd. Finally we arrived at Madison Square Garden and walked in through the concert hall doors, carefully navigating our way towards our seats.