Rod (9 page)

I take the winding roads slowly as I head
back home.
 
Once there, I hit the numbers
on the keypad to raise the garage door.
 
Safely inside, I hit the button to bring the doors down and head upstairs.
 

“I knew I should’ve given you an escort,”
my father rants as I walk by.
 
“Where
were you?”

“Out with friends.
 
You don’t have to worry about me, I’m grown
and I can take care of myself.”

“Famous last words,” he chides.
 

Saving myself the misery of another
argument, I say, “I need sleep, dad.
 
I’m
fine.
 
Let’s all concentrate on Sasha,
okay?”

He waves me off.

Once upstairs, I fire up the trusty old
laptop.
 
I need to find out more
information on this Les guy.
 
He’s creepy
enough and that whole scene just reeked of something shady.

I navigate the browser to the Hinton
County court docket search and begin looking for clues.
 
Once I happen upon the address search, I type
in “109
Bober
Street” to see if there is a
match.
 

A link pops up with a case number on the
following screen.

“Fuckin’ A,” I say to the laptop.
 
I hit pay dirt.
 

I click the link and find that Les’ full
name is Lester Samson.
 
In 2004, he was
arrested and jailed for six months for child endangerment.
 

“Oh my fucking God, I knew this guy was a
creep,” I cry out to no one in particular.
 
I send the information to the printer.
 
Lester Samson could be our kidnapper.
 

I talk to my laptop as I try desperately
to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

“So you wanted to get me back to your
place, you creep.
 
Maybe you’re not
holding Sasha there, but you’ve definitely done something with her.”

To me, his arrest record speaks
volumes.
 
I begin another search at the
county recorder’s office.
 
Inputting his
address into the search field, I find that his shack was bought and paid for in
2005 for the amount of ten thousand dollars.

“Someone didn’t get their money’s worth
out of that shithole,” I whisper to my laptop.
 
“I’ll tell my father all about you in the morning, Lester Samson, you
piece of shit.”

I close my laptop and hit the sheets.
 
Drifting into a deep sleep, I dream of
winning over my father’s trust wholeheartedly.
 
In a dream sequence, I see myself standing in front of the entire club
with my dad proudly announcing that I’ve been made a full patch member of the
Dragons.
 
In this instance, Sasha is home
and all is well.

I wake up sweaty from tossing and turning
all night.

I brush my teeth and head downstairs to
find I’m alone.
 
Mom is likely at the
store and dad is probably at the club.
 
I
eat a bowl of cereal before internally discussing my plan of attack.

Maybe this time, my dream would come
through to reality.
 
I could divulge the
information I have on Lester Samson and my dad would praise me in front of
everyone.
 

I drag my bike outside of the garage and
bring the garage door down.
 
I fire up my
bike and head to the Lair to lay it all out there for my father to see.

Outside of the Lair, the dirt road is
flush with club members sitting atop their bikes surrounded by three cars from
the Sheriff’s Department.

Waltzing inside like I have the case in
the palm of my hand, I see my fellow members answering questions from the
cops.
 
There are five male cops
accompanied by one woman cop.
 
They go
through each of us asking all types of questions to gain further knowledge on
my sister’s kidnapping.

Since I have the information to crack the
case, I know that my dad wants this kept internally.
 

“Dad, I need to talk to you,” I say,
stopping him dead in his tracks.

“Can this wait, Trish?
 
You see the fucking cavalry is here, right?”

He gestures to the back room full of
police officers taking names and information.

“This really can’t wait, dad.”

He motions for me to follow him and waves
me by in the presence of the female officer.
 
“My daughter,” he tells her as he ushers me inside his office.

“What’s going on that just couldn’t wait?”
he growls.

I pull the paperwork from my searches on
Lester Samson and set the papers on his desk in front of him.

“What’s this?”

“This is the kidnapper,” I say
confidently.

“How the fuck do you know that this is the
kidnapper?
 
Did you see your sister?
 
What proof do you have?”

“I went into
Hayleyville
last night and talked to my best friend Teresa.
 
At one of the bars, I overheard this creepy guy talking about a
twelve-year-old girl with blonde hair.
 
He was describing Sasha, dad.”

He listens intently as I continue.

“I got his address and ran it into the
criminal history search.”

“And?” He pushes impatiently.

“And he’s had a child endangerment charge
against him.”

“That’s your proof?
 
And what were you thinking following this
lunatic home?
 
He could’ve snatched you
up and we would’ve had no fucking clue.
 
You didn’t think this through.”

He is clearly more upset now.
 

“What in the hell, Trish?
 
I ask you not to put yourself in harm’s way
and the first thing you do is go to
Hayleyville
?
 
Are you fucking insane?”

His voice grows louder with each statement
and he is mad beyond words.
 
If looks
could kill, I don’t think I’d be standing here.

“
Hayleyville
has
a record amount of murders in the past ten years and that’s where you go? Go,
just go!” he demands.

I open the door.
 
Clearly that wasn’t the response I was
expecting.
 

As I make my way out, I hear him yell to
me, “I’ll look into this Lester Samson guy, but you stay the hell away from
that rotten fucking city.”

Chapter Four

Rodney Vinton

I look at our Road Captain, Jack Frack,
and try to make sense of Ronan’s comments about Lester Samson.

“Do you know anything about that?” I ask
after Ronan’s conversation with Trish.

She hurries herself out of his office
leaving the door cracked open, but he’s not done letting her have it.

She breezes past me and I stop her to
implore, “Is everything alright?”

“No, everything is most definitely not
alright,” she seethes.
 
“That fucking man
in there is impossible.”

She tries to move past me, but I place my
arms around her in a tight hug.
 

“Tell me what’s going on, Trish.
 
What were you talking about Lester Samson
for?”

“Let’s just say that last night before I
met up with you, I did my own detective work.”

“You did what?” Rodney hisses.

“I went to a bar in
Hayleyville
where I happened to hear this Lester guy talking about a twelve-year-old girl
with blonde hair.
 
I could’ve sworn he
was describing my baby sister.
 
So, I got
his address.
 
When I got back home, I ran
it through some searches and found that he has a child endangerment charge
against him.”

“So you followed Lester home?
 
Did you find anything?”

“No, but he’s a fucking creep,” she says
chewing my head off.

“I wish you would’ve brought the
information to me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I know this guy.
 
Lester Samson wouldn’t hurt a fly.
 
I’ve known Les for years.”

“You have?” she inquires.

“Yes, and I’m telling you that he’s not a
bad dude.”

“Explain to me then why he has an arrest
record for child endangerment?”

“He was merely the victim of bad
circumstances.”

“This is a good lead, Rodney.
 
Explain these bad circumstances if I’m wrong
then,” she dares me.

“You know what, maybe you should really
listen to your father and leave the investigation to the rest of us.
 
I’m not trying to be mean, but you’re too
close to all of this.
 
You aren’t seeing
reason, Trish.
 
I like you and
everything, but please just trust all of us in that we know what we’re doing.”

Ronan emerges from his office, picking up
on the last tidbit about her trusting us to lead the investigation.

“Listen to this guy if you won’t listen to
me,” Ronan tells her.

“Explain his fucking arrest then,” she
commands.

“Alright, if you must know.
 
Lester was driving to the park with his niece
in the car, but she unbuckled her seat belt and was playing with it in the back
seat.
 
His car drew the attention of
police because of a busted out tail light.
 
He got pulled over and arrested and his sister had to come get the kid
from the station,” Rodney says.

Satisfied, Ronan tears up the papers with
Lester’s information on it.
 

Trish’s face heats up, but she manages to
lean into my ear and say, “Follow me.”

She walks me out to where her father can’t
eavesdrop.
 
She tells me intently, “I’m
so fucking pissed at you.
   
You’re lucky
that you’re so hot,
‘
cause
otherwise I’d have kicked your ass by now.”

“So you’re holding it against me that you
think I’m hot?” My face reddens at the thought and I can feel my pants
bulge.
 
Her words travel from my ears
directly to my cock and it stiffens in response.

“Again, you’re missing the fucking point.”

“What’s the point?”

“Lester Samson is creepy and there’s
something not right about him.
 
I don’t
think his hands are clean in this.”

“I think you’re making something out of
nothing with Les.
 
He’s just a poor old
soul who was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” I try to convince her.

“I think you’re wrong.
 
I’m sorry, but I do.”

I smile at her and she sighs, completely
disarmed.
 
Her anger is displaced by a
feeling of sweet sorrow.
 
She’s clearly
upset about her sister being a victim of kidnapping, but she doesn’t want to
take her anger out on me.

“I promise you, with all of my heart and
soul, that I will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety.
 
We’re going to find out what happened to your
sister and whoever is responsible is going to pay dearly.”

My inflection is domineering.
 

“He’s dirty, I’m telling you.”

“I wish I could help you out with this Les
thing, I just believe with everything in me that you’re barking up the wrong
tree.”

She doesn’t let up about any of this when
it comes to her sister Sasha and I admire her tenacity and follow through.
 
Where her father erupts in anger, she sees a
clear answer.

A police officer calls out my name and I
sit down at his table.

“State your full name for the record.”

“Rodney Vinton,” I tell him.
 

“Mr. Vinton, do you know the victim, Ms.
Sasha Fitzgerald?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Do you have any details that could lead
us to her safe rescue?”

“No.”

“Do you know of anyone who would like to
hurt Ms. Fitzgerald?” he presses me.

“Who the hell would want to hurt a
twelve-year-old?” I howl.

“Sir, can you please just answer the
question.”

“No! I fucking don’t know of anyone who
would want to hurt Sasha.
 
This is all
such bullshit.
 
Instead of sitting here
answering your questions, we could all actually be out there trying to find
her.”