Chapter Three

A Chapter by Anene

Alex has to call his father for help for the first time in years and discovers something very shocking back at his family home.

Chapter Three

Sitting behind the wheels of his red Mazda Sedan in front of the house, Alex took a deep breath and dialed his father’s number. The line was picked up on the first ring. Alex listened and was met with silence. Having no time to waste, he spoke first. “Dad, I need your help.”
There was silence on the other end and Alex almost repeated himself but his father finally said, “Where are you?”
He was tempted to say like you don’t know but the panic he had pushed aside in order to make this phone call threatened to envelope him again as he thought of Michelle somewhere, lost. Instead he replied, “La Jolla.”

There was a pause before his father said “Richard’s old house right?”

“Yes sir!” Alex replied.

“Meet me at the home office. ”

“Right. I’ll be there.”

Alex was about to hang up when his father said, “And Alex, it’s good to hear from you,” followed by a dropped tone.

His father had said that so matter of fact that it made Alex feel guilty for several other reasons he’d rather not think about right now.

“Right,” was the only reply he could think of before he closed his phone.

*****

Alex had driven for forty minutes to El Cajon from La Jolla in San Diego County. Most of that time, he had spent breaking the law by checking in with his roommates for possible good news. He had held on to the hope of never having to make it to his final destination. But no such luck. He had promised her he dead mother he would help her graduate from high school even though he had only been a teenager. He couldn’t imagine that he may be breaking the promise because of something sinister.

Poor Michelle has yet to return and here he was in front of his childhood home. The house was still as big as he remembered it, but it still was different from the house his family had once inhabited in La Jolla, his birth place. The eerily quite, but tree lined clean street, the tree in the front yard with three initials carved into it, the brown and white paint, the scent of freshly mowed grass, and the overkill of Christmas decorations enveloping the building with a lone elf light statue that had seen almost a decade of jubilee all jumped out at him, rekindling bittersweet memories.

Alex kept his mind focused on his goal. He didn’t know how long was too late. And he didn’t want to think about the unfavorable statistics he had learned about missing children regarding the percent who were found alive. He wanted his phone to ring and for him to hear her voice apologizing for being a complete teenager. It didn’t happen so he rang the door bell to his family home and his dad, Mr. David Payne, and owner of one of the biggest shipping industries in the country opened the door for him. He stepped in and his dad disregarded any sort of awkwardness that might have been present and claps him powerfully on the back the only way his former football playing dad could. At least he didn’t hug him. This was just business; nothing had changed.

“Dad…” he began, wanting to get someone on the case as soon as possible but his dad walked ahead of him and ushered him into his home office located next to the dinning room. He passed the large airy living room that looked plucked right out of a home décor magazine and bar and was reminded of his upper-class upbringing, a far cry from the house him and his three friends currently rented.

His father sat down behind his large oak desk, his glasses perched atop his long nose. The more he got older, the more Alex realized he resembled his dead mother more than his father.

“Now tell me what problem you could possibly need help with that would cause you to call here after…”

“A girl may have been kidnapped,” Alex blurted out before his father could finish reminding him of anything remotely anxiety inducing.

His father inhaled and leaned back in his chair. “Have you called the police yet?” he asked.

“I can’t. That’s why I need your help.”

His dad nodded, his face screwed up in a thoughtful expression as he said, “And the reason for that is…”

“Michelle is the daughter of a Nigerian immigrant who passed away four years ago. Mum has brought her to dinner once…a long time ago. Anyways, I’ve been taking care of Michelle for the last four years so that social services won’t take her away from familiar grounds. They don’t know about her mum. If I go to the police, they’ll be more interested in our living situation than investigating her disappearance. I’m a twenty one years old college student who is totally un-qualified to be her guardian. I don’t want them to be distracted by that so I was hoping you could please help me find out what...happened to her….” Alex finished, surprised at how that rushed out of him.

His father nodded once and gestured for him to take a sit. He did remembering that he has yet to eat and the whole adrenaline he’d been running on rushed out of him and he felt even worse than a kicked dog.

His dad dialed a number, looked at him warily before saying into the phone “I need you in my office” before putting the sleek phone back onto its post.

His father pulled out his cell phone from inside his silk lined black jacket and dialed another number. After a small pause, said “I have a case I need you to handle. Get here now.” His dad finished by shutting his phone closed and leaning back, quietly observing him no doubt, a sense of calm on his face. His father was just as commanding as he remembered. Alex had always felt safe by the sound of his dad’s voice. Now a part of him was beginning to feel that way. Maybe his dad could help him save Michelle from whatever she needed saving from. But he knew better than to fall into that mode as it threatened to tear open the box of memories in his chest that he had tried so hard to keep hidden.
He heard a noise and turned to the door. Rooted at the entrance to their dad’s office was his younger sister Piper. He was surprised at how much she had grown. She had been the same age as Michelle was currently the last time they had seen each other. She was staring at him with thinly veiled surprise.

“You’re really here,’ she whispered from the door way, her black hair framed around her face like a snug furry hat.

Alex stood up and in that instant she made a beeline for him and instead of a hug or a pat on the back, she slapped him on the face cutting of his greeting. Alex was not exactly shocked at what had just happened. There was fury etched into every inch of her face and tears already at the corners of her eyes when he recovered enough to observe. Her whole body was shaking. He couldn’t claim not to know the reason for either’s presence. So he looked at her while their dad had gone still behind them. Their father would never interfere. He had always told them to take care of their own problems.

“Hello Piper,” he said softly and saw her tense up immediately and brought her hand down again for round two. This time she didn’t connect with his bruised cheek as she stopped in mid-air reacting to the command that floated from the door way behind her.

“Cut it out Piper,” the voice said. “We have a more important matter at hand to deal with.”

Alex felt like somebody had ripped open the box in his chest with a chainsaw. He looked up from his hurt sister following the sound of the voice only to rest on the figure standing in the door way at the same time that Piper whirled around also startled. She turned back and gave his shocked form one last disgusted look before running past the man at the door and around the hall-way, her hands clasped over her face, barely concealing the tears that had begun to fall.

Alex stared at the man at the door. He couldn’t believe his eyes. His older brother Jason, Hero as he preferred to call him was standing a few feet away from him in the flesh and blood, with an apologetic smile stretching his lips. He looked almost as he remembered him. Six feet and two inches tall, average frame, the same short black hair and square jaw bone as him. There were only two changes; Jason was wearing a black suit that made him look like a G-man that didn’t match his tired complexion and defeated demeanor. The biggest difference of all; he was still god-damned alive. Alex didn’t know what to say or do except to stare at the reason he hadn’t been home or connected with his family in the last four years. At the reason the old wounds in his heart had re-opened like an explosion.

He was afraid he was going to die of a heart attack. Instead, his body betrayed him and he fainted. F*****g empty stomach!

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