Forgive Me (10 page)

“Anything new from the mother?”

“No. Just that she needs an intervention at some point. My ex could be her AA sponsor.”

“We’ll mention it to her after we find Nadine,” Angie said. “No need to put Mom on the defensive.”

The judge who’d granted Mike full custody of his children had ordered the mother into alcohol rehab. She’d been sober three years, and the turnaround had earned her joint custody.

“What about you, Bao?”

Both Mike and Bao had come to the funeral, but since her mother’s death, Angie had not had time to catch up on the Nadine case. They’d certainly had no time to discuss it at the reception. If there had been any big breaks, they would have called.

“The Facebook page has about two thousand likes,” Bao said. “Word is spreading.”

“My phone hasn’t rung with any tips, but still that’s a good number,” Angie said. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, the parse on the log files gave us something.”

“What?”

“New York, Philly, DC,” Mike said. “Nadine was on TripAdvisor. Yelp. ThrillList. Checking out those cities.”

Angie’s face lit up. “Well, that’s something. Keeps it to the eastern corridor. Makes sense. What did we do about it?”

“Mike’s been a hobo,” Bao said.

“And this is the busy season with bouncy houses, Ange,” Mike said.

“Bonus to you if we find her.”

“Hey!” Bao said. “Don’t I count?”

“Okay, each of you. Bonus. What did you do, Mike?”

“Basically, I canvassed. Three days. Philly to DC. I hit the malls, the big shopping areas, places that I know we can poster.”

“NCMEC hooked you up?”

“I had so many Nadine Jessup posters with me, you’d think she was going on a world tour. Plus I made some of my own. It was a good thing I went, too. A lot of the initial posters NCMEC put up had been taken down.”

“So we’ve chummed the waters. Good. Let’s follow up with the police in each city. Maybe we can narrow this down. NCMEC can help there, too. Mike, can you take point on that?”

“Sure thing.”

“Nothing on Nadine’s cell?” Angie said.

“No. That’s been quiet,” Bao said.

“I’m going to go,” Mike said. “I’ll get over to NCMEC and start working the phones.”

“I’ve already adjusted the Facebook page to geo-target those cities,” Bao said, getting up from his chair. He slipped his computer into his bike messenger bag, slung the strap over his shoulder, and kicked his skateboard to the floor. Just like that, he was ready to roll.

Angie leaned against her desk and looked behind her to make sure Mike had left the office and was well out of earshot. There wasn’t any big secret here, but Angie kept her personal affairs on a need-to-know basis.

This trait was something passed on to her from her parents. The DeRose family was notoriously private. Kathleen had had a large turnout at her funeral because of her community involvement. By contrast, her father kept just a few close friends, with Walter Odette being the closest of them all.

Over the years, Angie had had it drilled into her not to overshare. A shrink might have a field day with her career choice. Her job was to unlock other people’s secrets, shine light into dark corners, and reveal hidden truths. All children had a rebellious side, she believed, and at times wondered if her career was a form of that rebellion. Was it her way of being a runaway?

“Can you stick around a second?” she asked Bao.

Angie fished out the photograph from an unmarked white envelope, camouflaged by the clutter of her handbag. Her bag was almost the same size as the one Bao used to carry around his computer. Angie knew she could be more fashionable with her accessories. She also knew that Target wasn’t a handbag brand name, but that they had great prices and fine enough merchandise.

She showed him the photograph.

“What’s this?”

“I found it in the attic in my parents’ home. My mother hid it in a music box. Look on the back.”

Bao read the inscription.

“That’s my mother’s handwriting.”

“What’s it mean?”

“I have no idea.”

“Who’s the girl?”

“That’s my question.”

“Well, where was this taken?”

“I don’t know.”

“How about when?”

“Bao, those are all the questions I have. Now, I need your help getting the answers.”

“That’s not all the questions,” Bao said, studying the back of the photograph. “Why does your mother want forgiveness?”

CHAPTER 12

E
xhibit D: Excerpts from the journal of Nadine Jessup, pages 25-30

Just a normal day of hanging out. It’s so much fun having nothing to do. School, my life, it all seems so far away now. Ricardo says just wait until it starts happening for me. My acting career. Ha! That’s so funny to even think about. But he believes and so I believe. When it happens I won’t be so relaxed so he tells me to enjoy the downtime while I can. We’ll be jettin’ from film set to film set. Maybe go to France for that big festival . . . whatever it is, Cans or something.

It feels like my old life happened to somebody else. Ya know? I think of this apartment as my home now. It’s nice here. Well the shower is a little gross. Drips of water and yellow stains around the drain kind of gross. And the bathroom isn’t the cleanest. The kitchen is super small but I imagine it’s the kinda kitchen I would have in my first apartment, so it’s cool by me. But it’s not the best money can buy. It’s not like my kitchen at home. A kitchen worthy of Potomac, Maryland. Say that with your nose in the air all snooty like! This is real life out here. Ricardo takes me out for walks around the neighborhood. HA-HA-HA I sound like his dog. But I have to go with him because this neighborhood isn’t the best. That’s what he says and I believe him.

Buggy came over. He brought weed and we sat around smoking. Buggy freaks me out. He just looks at me and doesn’t say much. He’s creepy. He watches me and I think he’s thinking gross thoughts. I dunno. But Ricardo likes him so he comes over a lot. He always wears a fedora hat and bowling shirts with a wife beater tank underneath. Last night Ricardo and I watched Jaws, the shark movie. I had never seen it, but there was this scene were the old fisherman guy (whatever his name was, Quint, right?) he’s talking about being in the water with a bunch of sharks and he says something like a shark has lifeless black eyes, like a doll’s eye. I thought about that when Buggy came over this morning because that’s what his eyes look like to me.

So Ricardo opened up to me tonight. I want to cry for him. I feel so bad!! How can people be that cruel? WTF is wrong with people? That’s what I’m saying. WTF people! And I thought my father was an asshole. Ricardo’s dad used to burn him with cigarettes, lock him in a trunk, and beat him with his belt. He said he once spent three weeks locked inside a closet. He got water and food sometimes but he had go to the bathroom in the closet. So gross. So wrong. Anytime he did something wrong his dad would put him in that closet. Then . . . get this . . . his father killed his mother. He stabbed her to death in front of Ricardo! Ricardo went to live with an uncle who abused him as well. He hit him and beat him and Ricardo made some references to sexual abuse, but he wouldn’t go there with me. I feel SOOOOOOO bad for him. He’s such a sweet guy. How did he turn out so great? He ran away from that sicko uncle of his and lived on the streets hustling. Why do young people sell drugs? Because they have to, that’s why. What other choice did he have? He used money to buy a cheap digital camera. He took pictures with it all the time, but didn’t have a computer so he just looked at them on the little display and when it got full he deleted the old ones to make room for new ones. Now he has a computer and he saves his best photos. He showed me some of his favorites and they are INCREDIBLE!! Totally amazing. He took this one of a homeless guy that would just break your heart. The guy lives in a cardboard box and moves his stuff around in an old shopping cart, but honestly he looks so happy to me. This whole experience has really opened my eyes to the world. I’ve learned more out here than I ever did in school. I think about that cardboard box picture a lot. I had a nice house and everything, but I felt so alone. The guy with the box has nothing, but he looked so happy in that photograph. Explain that one to me, will ya? Xoxo world! J. Barlow!

Totally freaked out. OMG freaked out. The craziest thing happened just now. My heart is still pounding. Gotta catch my breath.

OK, I’m better now. OMFG heart is still pounding. Here’s what happened. I passed out after getting high and drunk and when I woke up Ricardo was kneeling over me. Straddling me. I’ve never seen him look so angry. He scared the sh-t out of me. His face was this horrible scowl. He dropped tons of shredded paper on me like it was confetti or something. I didn’t know what it was at first, but a few bigger pieces fell and I could see it was my face. These were the pictures from the photo shoot. Ricardo had cut up all the pictures into little pieces and he made them rain down on me. What’s going on, I asked him? He said that he showed the photos to Stephen Macan. He’d been busy and hadn’t had time to look them over. When he saw them he freaked out, or so Ricardo said. She looks like a scared little girl. That’s what Stephen Macan told him. She’s supposed to be sexy. She’s supposed to be the next JLaw! J. Bar, right? I’m Jessica Barlow now. “These pictures are crap.” Those words are directly from Stephen Macan. Ricardo tells me he’s going to lose his job if I don’t take better pictures. They invested a lot in me, he says. This apartment isn’t free. The food. Photo expenses. All the booking calls Stephen has been making, setting up appointments, all that stuff. Everything depends on these pictures coming out right. But how can I make it come out right? I didn’t think I was any good at this to begin with. They did, not me. But Stephen still thinks I have it in me and he told Ricardo to get it out of me or he’ll find somebody else who can.

Everything is such a mess now. What am I supposed to do? You should have seen him. He was screaming and yelling, hitting the walls. Like totally panicked. I have to do better. If he loses his job it’s going to be my fault. Where is he going to get another photography job? He kept saying to me, do you think photography jobs are easy to come by? Well do you?? I told him we could go away together. He said if he gets fired because of me he won’t go anywhere with me. He won’t want to see me again. This job allows him to do his art photography. Ricardo is a real artist! He’s not just a hack. I can’t let that happen! Then he called me a weak little girl. He said he’s wasting his time with me. He says he’s going to get fired for sure. He’s right. I am a weak little girl. But I’m going to do better. I’ll do whatever it takes. I need to go talk to Ricardo. Back soon.

So sad right now.

I told Ricardo I would do anything to make the photo session work. Anything. I don’t want to lose him. I can’t. He’s the only one who’s ever cared about me. He doesn’t think I can do it though. He was a lot less angry this time, so it was easy to talk with him. I had to be innocent looking but experienced at the same time if that made any sense. I said I wasn’t experienced and he knew what I meant by it too. So we fixed it. I mean we did it. By it, I mean it. I wanted to do it with him, too, but as soon as he got on top of me, and started moving, I felt so weird. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel good either. We didn’t have any music playing or anything like that. The soundtrack to my first time was Breaking Bad because that’s what he was watching on Netflix when it happened. I was too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. So either I closed my eyes tight, or I turned my head and watched the TV while Ricardo . . . well, you know. Guess what show I’ll never watch again? I was so freaked out and my heart was beating like crazy. After it was over I asked him if it was any good? He said I needed a lot of work. Just like with my photo shoots.

Ricardo says my friends may be right about me. We took another set of photos and they’re getting worse. I look fat in them. I don’t look anything like Jessica Barlow should. He says I’m plain and dull and boring and nobody is going to give these a second look. It’s not even good enough for my Facebook profile pic. He said he thinks he understands now why my father doesn’t give a crap about me. I’m so damn forgettable.

Something is working at least. The sex is getting better. We’ve been doing a lot of I&I, that be Intercourse & Inebriation. I can’t have sex if I’m not drunk or high. It relaxes me. Anyway, I won’t lie—I like it. A LOT. Ricardo tells me he loves me. He tells me he loves me everyday. All the time. He says I’m his girl. I’ll do anything to make him happy. I mean anything. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He gets me like nobody else. When I’m with him I feel like I belong. I want to make him happy. Yesterday he said he’s getting a little bored with me. He wants to try new things. I asked him what and he showed me a lot of stuff online, things I never saw before and I’m trying it out with him (I’m also trying to scrub it from my mind). He makes me watch videos (ok, it’s PRON—ya know, the code word for P.O.R.N., and some of it’s nasty too). He likes to watch and I try to do it like they do it in the videos. I’m trying to be what he wants me to be. I’m kind of grossed out by a lot of it to be honest, but I’m getting used to it now. He says we should buy stock in Trojan. HA-HA! Now that’s funny.