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Authors: Ryan P. Ruiz

The Black Cadillac

BOOK: The Black Cadillac
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The Black Cadillac

 

 

 

 

Ryan P. Ruiz

Copyright © 2013 by Ryan P. Ruiz.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2013911908

ISBN:               Hardcover                        978-1-4836-6021-9

                        Softcover                           
978-1-4836-6020-2

                        Ebook                                978-1-4836-6022-6

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 

Rev. date: 07/16/2013

 

 

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[email protected]

137932

Contents

PREFACE

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

CHAPTER I       Sam

CHAPTER II       Morning Walk

CHAPTER III       School

CHAPTER IV       Lying in Bed

CHAPTER V       The Plan of Attack

CHAPTER VI       Past Memories

CHAPTER VII       The Church

CHAPTER VIII       The Hunt Part I

CHAPTER IX       A Mising Girl

CHAPTER X       The Gas Station

CHAPTER XI       Needle in a Haystack

CHAPTER XII       The Hunt Part II

CHAPTER XIII       Confronting Evil

CHAPTER XIV       Part I: Run

CHAPTER XIV       Part II: Hide

CHAPTER XV       Heroes

CHAPTER XVI       The Day After

CHAPTER XVII       Life After

EPILOGUE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To my wife, Autumn, and my daughter, Riley.
I love you both more than anything in the whole wide world.
Olive oil.

 

 

 

 

 

“He was right back on the sidewalk where the car had pulled up on his street. This time when the man asked the question, Cody went to the passenger door and opened it. Olive was in the front seat, telling him that it was okay. He tried to pull his sister out of the car, but the door shut, and the car drove off. He chased after the car as fast as he could and eventually lost sight of it.”

PREFACE

I remember it like it was yesterday.

I was walking to school one morning, and a black vehicle pulled to the side of Bunts Road, rolled down the window, and said, “Hey, kid, would you like a ride to school?” I yelled out “No!” and ran the rest of the way to school. Because of being properly educated by my parents and teachers, I am alive today.

When I arrived at school completely out of breath and filled with anxiety, I went straight to the assistant principal’s office. There, I told the secretary what had happened, and nothing was done. I was told that I was safe now and that there was nothing that could be done. I was utterly annoyed with that secretary.

Though I was thankful to not be taken, I wanted so badly for those beady eyes in that car—which I could only see partially because of the dark window being half down—to be caught. There was no doubt in my mind that this was a real kidnapper, a child abductor, and a bad man.

Many thanks to all the people that helped make this book possible. Thank you to my mama for believing in me and always supporting me, even in difficult times.

Thank you to my beautiful wife for pushing me and supporting this dream of bringing this story to life. Thank you for being my best friend and my everything.

Thank you to my beautiful baby girl that, at the time of this writing, is under a year old.

This story was developed and inspired by multiple events that have occurred in my life and in others. It is a testament to how we, as a society, must not ignore signs.

This is the story of a courageous boy who took matters into his own hands. This is
The
Black
Cadillac
.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A special thanks

To my wife, Autumn, and daughter, Riley, for their uncanny support during the project.

To my mama, Georgette, for believing in me throughout my entire life.

To my fathers—Raymond, Mark, Bill (FIL), Charley, and David.

To my mothers—Renee, Sheryl, and Susan (RIP).

To my sisters Olivia (I will always be your big brother), Julie, Sierra, and Amy (RIP).

To my brothers TJ, Rocky, Jason, and Bill Jr.

To my Papa, Earl Gedney (RIP), for teaching me the little things in life.

To my grandfathers—Jim (RIP), Ceferino (RIP), Dewey (RIP), and Will (I appreciate everything you did, RIP).

To my grandmothers—June, Marie, Rita, and Carol.

To all my aunts on all sides of my family—Barbara, Lynn, Elizabeth, Kim, Mary, Veronica, Jeanne, Suzie, Lorrie, Jackie, Ann, and Dena.

To all my uncles on all sides of my family—Rollin, Paul, Keith, Charlie, Dan, Russ, Jeff, Michael, Joey, Robert, Larry, John, Dione, Victor and Dr. Randall (thank you for all the medical advice).

To all my cousins—Dione, Kevin, Telissa, Anuj, Naiomi, Christopher, Michael (RIP), Rusty, Michael, Crystal, Melanie, Missy, Michelle, Cindy, Nicole, Brittany, Jessica, Caitlin, Theresa, Anthony, Sara, Cef, Erin, Ceferino, Holly, Stephanie, Kyrsten, Robert John, Christina, and Alex.

To my nephews Max, Ethan, William, and James.

To my godmother and godfather, Elizabeth and Michael.

To my godson, Alex.

To special people in my heart—Sandy, Shirley (RIP), and others.

To all my friends that have stood by my side, including Zacky D., Kebs, Dave (Boss), Parrino, Tim, Adam (#7), and Andy (#21).

To my entire Balz football team! We ride together; we die together.

To all my friends from the past. You all know who you are!

To all of my teachers throughout my entire life, thank you for the education.

To everyone that I have learned something from in my life and that have taken the time to teach me.

 

A Big Thank You

To all my followers and readers on social media across the world. You make sportswriting all worthwhile.

To
Rant
Sports
(Marian) and
The
Inscriber:
Digital
Magazine
(Rob) for giving me an opportunity to write.

To Xlibris Publishing Company; Phil Johnson, my publishing consultant; Kim Oliver; Sarah Perkins, Clifford Young and all others involved with my book.

CHAPTE
R
I
Sam

T
he little girl woke up and immediately snuggled deeper under the covers after peeking out her bedroom window from her bed. The frost on the window showed that it was going to be another cold winter day.

It was just the beginning of the week when Sam Jennings woke up on the day that would forever change her fate. Like any other kid her age, she didn’t want to get out of bed and dressed for school. Sam was starting to dislike school because of a girl in her class (named Victoria) that continued to tease her.

Soon enough, she dressed as fast as she could so she wouldn’t miss the school bus. After Sam gulped down her cereal, her mother bundled her into her purple winter jacket and said good-bye to her daughter. Little did she know, it would be the last time she would see her daughter alive.

The extra minutes in bed meant that Sam needed to take a shortcut for her walk to the bus. With her scarf trailing behind her in the breeze, Sam waved good-bye and blew a kiss to her mom as she walked down her street. Sam’s mother usually walked Sam to the bus stop, but today was an exception. Sam’s mother had an important interview for a job opening.

The frigid air made her nose run and her feet cold. The plaza that she was cutting through to get to the bus stop in time was straight in front of her. With the plaza only a couple of blocks away from the bus stop, she noticed a car parked on the side of the street next to the plaza with a man in the driver’s seat. The man noticed Sam hurrying through the plaza and slowly rolled down the window of his car.

“Hey, kid, why are you in such a big hurry?” the man asked.

The man seemed friendly with his tone and was smiling at Sam. She stopped and turned in his direction.

“I’m going to be late for my school bus,” she said, a little caught off guard.

“Oh well, how far away is the bus stop?” asked the man.

“Only two more blocks. I’m going to be late, bye,” the little girl said as she started walking.

“Wait, no, you won’t be late. I will give you a ride to school. You won’t make it, the bus is probably almost there,” the man said in a nonthreatening voice.

“I don’t know. I need to get to my bus,” said Sam as she stopped again.

“I could give you a ride. Say, what’s your name?” the man asked.

The little girl thought for a quick second, then replied.

“Sam,” the little girl said with a smirk.

She looked around with a worried look and saw no one around in the plaza. The man looked around too.

“Well, Sam, it’s very cold out there, and I will give you a ride to school. It’s very warm in my car, Sam. It’s okay, hop in,” the man calmly replied.

He leaned over and opened the passenger door as the girl inched closer to his vehicle.

“Well, okay, but I need to go to school,” said Sam as she got closer and peered in the open car door.

“No problem, Sam. Come get out of the cold, it’s okay. Let’s go,” the man replied.

Sam got in the car, and the man reached over her to shut the door.

“Now put your seat belt on, Sam. We don’t want to get you hurt on our way to school, do we?” said the man.

“Nope,” she said.

The man stared at a woven bracelet on Sam’s wrist sticking out of the sleeve of her jacket.

“Say, that’s a really nice bracelet you have there,” he said as he put the car in drive.

“Yes, thank you. My mommy made it for me,” replied Sam with a smile on her face.

“Well, it’s very pretty,” he said as the car drove down the road.

The man turned the volume up on his radio. The song “Every Time You Go Away” by Paul Young was playing through the speakers. The little girl continued to smile as the passenger window rolled up.

Sam Jennings was never seen alive again after that moment. That was five years ago.

CHAPTE
R
II
Mornin
g
Walk

T
he snow was lightly beginning to fall outside in the town of Tippwood, Ohio. Winter was coming to an end, and spring was right around the corner. The snow would fall one last time before spring. It was a normal morning for Cody Roberts, just like any other. The night had flown by rather quickly, and it was time to get ready for school. Cody’s mother had just come into his room to see if he was awake and getting dressed. The boy rolled out of his red metal bunk bed and looked around the room.

The room was like any other pre-teenaged boys’ room. There were sports posters on the wall of baseball players. A mini basketball hoop was attached to the door and there were clothes on the closet floor. His wooden desk was to the right of the window with an alarm clock radio and lamp on it. As much as he tried to keep his room clean, Cody just couldn’t the majority of the time.

BOOK: The Black Cadillac
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