03 - Organized Grime (16 page)

I stop mid-bite and stared down at the table. Out of the trash? You mean, there had been gross, unsanitary objects touching this newspaper, which now touched my food, which had already been in my mouth? I resisted the urge to gag. Or to grab a bar of soap and start scrubbing my mouth clean.

Riley must have sensed how I bit my tongue, because a steady hand appeared on my back. And it worked. The neurons firing at full speed in my brain slowed slightly, and I took a deep breath. How did I proceed from here?

“Maybe the homeless man downstairs would like to eat.” Teddi pointed out the window. I glanced over her shoulder, even though I already knew who she was talking about. Henry.

Everyone stared at me. They really wanted me to invite Henry up? Really? Finally, I shrugged. “Fine.”

Teddi cracked the window open and called down to him. The next thing I knew, Henry stood in my apartment.

I frowned. What would the feds do if they found out Henry was here? Arrest him? Arrest me?

What would Jesus do?

With that thought, I offered a smile and extended my hand to invite Henry to the table. Baby steps. That’s what I was taking.

Henry looked totally at ease as he glanced around my place. His eyes stopped at the food piled on a dirty newspaper on my kitchen table and the trash can on the stove. “That’s my kind of food—cooked in a trash can.”

“A clean trash can,” I added. Never mind the newspaper.

My dad was staring at him, so I realized I should probably introduce everyone.

“Dad, this is—”

“Tim,” my dad muttered. He rose to his feet, looking a bit dumbfounded and wide-eyed.

Tim? Was my dad losing his mind?

My father walked toward Henry, his arms outstretched. What had gotten into my father? Had he traded alcohol for drugs?

I had to intervene. I stepped in front of my dad and shook my head. “No, this is Henry, Dad. He’s Sierra’s friend.” Also known as “The Smell.” A total weirdo with bad body odor.

My father didn’t seem to hear me. He stepped around me, grabbed Henry and pulled him into his arms.

“I knew you’d come home one day,” my dad muttered, his voice hoarse. “I knew you would.”

What was going on? My mouth gaped open, and I wondered if I should call a psychologist or act as referee before Henry pulled back and slugged my father for his weird behavior.

My dad stepped back and turned toward me. The tears streaming down his face caused my heart to lurch. “Gabby, it’s your brother. He’s come home. He’s come home.”

Chapter Twenty-One

I blinked. “My brother? Dad…”

I looked at Henry. Maybe he looked a little bit like Tim, but he wasn’t Tim. He couldn’t be. Tim was gone. And Henry was… well, he was weird.

But Henry just stood there staring at us. Tears streamed down his cheeks also, leaving little rivulets in the dirt.

“Henry?” I questioned, waiting to hear his denial. Why wasn’t Henry denying this and setting my father straight? Why was he crying?

He locked gazes with me, and I knew my father’s words were true.

“Tim?” I whispered. I stepped backward and clutched something—it just happened to be Riley’s arm was there—to balance myself.

He nodded.

I shook my head, the skeptic in me rising to the surface. “No, I can’t believe this. It can’t be true. This is… it’s some kind of set up or something.”

“Pompadour Tim, rah rah rah, here comes a bull so rah, rah, run,” Henry said.

It was a rhyme I’d made up about my brother once and it had stuck. We’d sit in Tim’s room and make up silly rhymes for hours. We’d both be giggling so hard by the end that our sides hurt. The memory squeezed my heart.

Next thing I knew, I sank to my knees, weeping. No, this couldn’t be my little brother. He couldn’t have been in my life for this long without me ever knowing. Siblings could sense each other…

Riley put his arms around me, but there were no words at that moment. Just emotions. Strong emotions that collided inside me.

My dad hugged Henry—Tim. Tim held onto him also.

“Maybe we should all sit down and talk,” Riley muttered.

I nodded. Yes, I needed some answers.

We shuffled into the living room. The silence in the room was thick. No one seemed to know what to say or do or where to start. Finally, I drew in a deep breath and attempted to pull myself together. Truth and doubt collided inside me. One minute I believed that Henry was my brother; the next I knew this was a mean-hearted trick.

I had to bring out the investigator in me and get to the truth of the matter. I rubbed my sweaty hands on my jeans and swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.

“Did you know that I was your sister this whole time?”

He nodded, his emotions restrained as he sat across from me. Henry no longer looked like a fanatical freak. Something about the way he sat reminded me of a lost little boy. I knew he wasn’t the prodigal son because he hadn’t left on his own accord, but he was the lost son who’d come home.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why wait until today?”

“I actually came over to the apartment to meet you a couple of months ago, but I chickened out. In the process, I met Sierra, and I realized that by getting to know her, I could get to know you.” He looked down at his hands. “I’ve had a lot of hurts in my life. I didn’t want to be rejected by my sister also.”

“How about dad? Why not go to him?”

Tim looked at our father. “The same reasons.” He squeezed the skin between his eyes as if fighting tears. “Look, I know it probably doesn’t make sense. I had all of these crazy expectations of what our reunion would be like. Then fear set in and I began to wonder how you’d both accept me. With open arms? With skepticism? Had you moved on with your lives and forgotten about me?”

“We’d never forget about you, Tim. Never.” My dad reached forward and grabbed his hand.

I wanted to say the same thing, but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I asked, “What happened, Tim? After you were taken at the park that day, what happened?” My voice sounded shaky and unsure and very much not like my voice.

“You mean after those two men snatched me?”

I nodded, tension digging deep into my back as I braced myself for what I might hear. I had so many fears about what had happened to Tim, so many nightmares…

Tim wiped one of the tears rolling down his cheeks with the back of his hand. “They took me to a nice couple. They lived in Northern Virginia. I guess they’d desperately wanted kids but when they couldn’t have their own, they decided to adopt. Only they couldn’t afford to adopt. So they went with the next option. They kidnapped me.”

My throat burned and I closed my eyes, unable to face my brother. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t all that bad. After awhile, I kind of forgot about my old life. Living with them seemed to be the norm. They told me that you guys died in a fire. I believed them for a long time, just like I believed that they’d legitimately adopted me.”

“So they were nice to you?” My voice cracked with emotion. I’d had nightmares about him being hurt at the hands of someone merciless.

He nodded. “They were a little shady with other people, but they never treated me poorly.”

My heart calmed for a second. Good. He hadn’t been tortured or abused, which had always been my nightmare for all of these years.

Thank you, Jesus.

“Three years ago, they both died in a car accident. That’s when I decided to do some research for myself. I didn’t come up with anything until a couple of months ago. That’s when I saw the article about Gabby and something clicked inside me. I kept digging and eventually found a newspaper article detailing my kidnapping. I realized what had happened.”

I realized at that moment just how little I knew about this man. When he was just Henry, I just dismissed him as a weirdo. But now there was so much I wanted to know. “Where are you living down here, Tim?”

He shrugged. “Here and there. With different friends. I got laid off from my job, you know.”

“Is that why you became a freegan? Out of necessity?”

He cracked a smile. “You’re really hung up on that, aren’t you? No, I’m a freegan because I really do believe in that way of life. It started for me in high school, just for fun. Dumpster diving and stuff. It just progressed from there. We didn’t have much when I was growing up, so I learned to appreciate things. It’s a lesson most people in America could learn.”

 “I looked for you every day,” my dad muttered. My dad wept again. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen my dad cry like that. Usually, he just drank away his troubles.

I turned my head sharply toward him. My dad did? All I’d seen him do was drink. When had he searched for Tim?

“I did Internet searches, hoping I’d find some more information. When I didn’t, I turned to the bottle to numb the pain.”

My heart beat at double time. That’s why my father had begun drinking like a fish? Guilt pounded with each heart beat. Perhaps I just shouldn’t have judged him so easily.

My dad stood, still touching Tim’s shoulder as if afraid he might disappear again. “Stay with me. I don’t have much but what I have is yours.”

Who was this man? What happened to my dad, the one who only thought about himself?

Tim nodded solemnly. “The police are looking for me.”

“I don’t care. You’re my son. You have a place at my house.”

Tim nodded again. “Okay then. I could use a warm place to sleep.”

My dad put his arm around Tim’s shoulders. “Let’s go then. We all need some time to process this great news. And you, my boy, need to settle into your new home. I’m going to clear out the spare bedroom for you, and you’re welcome to stay as long as you need. I don’t care about those cops looking for you.”

They stepped toward the door. I couldn’t let them go. Not yet. “Tim…”

They paused and looked back at me.

I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry,” I muttered.

He nodded. “I know.”

With that, they left.

***

Riley looked at me from across the couch. After several moments of silence stretched by, he finally asked, “Are you okay?”

I’d hardly heard the silence as my thoughts absorbed me. “I’m in shock.”

“Do you think that’s really your brother?”

I nodded. “Yeah, that’s him. I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier. I thought he looked familiar, but…”

“It’s been a long time.”

“Yes, it has.”

Riley squeezed my hand. “What can I do for you?”

I shrugged, wishing I had an answer. “I’m just processing everything still.”

“It will take time.”

“How could I not have seen it, Riley? He’s my brother.”

“People change. He was just a boy when he was taken. And now his looks are concealed behind that beard and those bulky clothes he wears. Don’t beat yourself up over this. I thought you might be happy. Are you happy?”

I wiped at a tear that pricked my eye. “I am happy. I’m in shock. I’m a lot of things.”

“How about we grab a bite to eat? Especially since the shrimp boil didn’t go over that well, not with the dirty newspaper and all of that.”

I actually cracked a smile at that. “That sounds good.”

We walked across the street to The Grounds. The paintings still glared at me when I walked inside, feeling like stabs to the heart. Riley put on brakes when he saw them. “Wow,” he muttered.

“I know.”

He touched the painting of Tim. “This is creepy, Gabby.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

Sharon appeared behind us. “I haven’t seen Becca since I found out these paintings were about your life, Gabby. I tried to call the number she left, but it was bogus.”

“So was the address.”

“Gabby,” Sharon muttered, clutching my arm.

“What is it?”

She pointed at the window. “There! There she is!”

I stepped toward the window, at the young woman standing there peering inside. She spotted me and took off in a sprint.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I took off after the girl. “Stop!”

She didn’t slow. She’d gotten a good head start. My leg muscles burned as I tried to catch the petite woman, who didn’t look much older than a college student.

Riley darted in front of me. Rush hour might have been over, but traffic was still thick. The girl darted in the middle of an intersection, narrowly missing oncoming cars. I dodged a few myself and nearly broke one of my legs in the process. I didn’t even care. I just wanted to reach that girl and find out who she was.

Riley reached the other side of the road just as the girl took a hard right into an alley

Get her, Riley, I silently urged.

I gasped in deep breaths, trying desperately to catch up, wishing my legs were longer and that I was in better shape. Neither were true, though.

I rounded the corner into an alley. My foot caught on some cracked concrete, and I nearly toppled but caught myself. So close, so close.

Finally, I reached the end of the alley and stopped abruptly. Riley stood there, hands on hips, staring at the parking lot in front of us.

“Where did she go?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I lost her.”

“You take the left, I’ll take the right.” I didn’t wait for him to respond. I darted to the right. No sooner had I done so, did a maroon sedan squeal out. Before I could reach it, the car pulled onto the street and to safety.

“Did you get the license plate?”

I shook my head. “Mud covered the numbers.” Just two weeks ago the temperatures here had been in the sixties and it had been raining. Maybe the mud—frozen now—was left over from that temperamental weather shift.

“I don’t get it. Who is that girl, and what does she want with you?”

I shook my head again. “I have no idea. This just keeps getting stranger and stranger.”

And something else was bugging me also.

Why did the girl look familiar?

***

I’d talked Riley into watching High School Musical with me that evening. And now, only halfway into the show, his head tilted back on my couch and his body didn’t move.