CHAPTER FOUR: THE COTTAGE
It took him nearly two hours, but Jack arrived at the Evanston Police Department around 1:45 PM. As he walked toward the entrance he tossed the bag from his drive-through stop in the trash receptacle near the door. Just through the breezeway he encountered a reception window where a young woman wearing a headset was answering the switchboard and transferring callers to their proper destinations. Jack walked up to the window and waited patiently for a turn to talk with her.
When a quiet moment hit the switchboard Jack spoke to the woman, "Excuse me miss," but the woman made no attempt to look up. Jack cleared his throat rather obviously and spoke again, "Miss, I was wondering if you could help me."
The young woman looked up with an annoyed look and said in a monotone voice, "Where may I direct you today, sir?"
Jack held back his disgust with the way he was greeted and simply said, "Hello there, my name is Detective Jack Snyder with the Oakdale Police Department. I am looking for Detective Owens. Could you please tell me where I can locate him?"
Hearing that Jack was a detective obviously put a spark in the receptionist's personality, because suddenly she became very interested in helping him. After requesting to see his shield she asked Jack to go to the door on his left and wait for her to buzz him through. Once through Jack was taken to the detective floor by a uniformed officer and told to wait in a chair just inside the room.
While Jack waited he looked around their squad room. There were about eight desks spread throughout the room that obviously belonged to busy officers or detectives, because they were covered with stacks of files and computer printouts, photos, name plates, coffee mugs, and other personal items. All but two of the desks were empty. A dark haired woman sat at one desk. She was working on her computer while at the same time talking on the phone. At the desk directly across from the woman a slightly balding gentleman sat looking over a file. Just as he picked up his coffee cup the young officer that escorted Jack to the squad room leaned over the detective's desk for a moment and then both men looked over at Jack.
As the two men approached Jack he stood up. The uniformed officer walked out of the squad room as the other gentleman held out his hand to Jack, "Detective Snyder?"
Jack grasped the man's hand and gave a firm hand shake, "Yes, Jack… Jack Snyder, Oakdale P.D."
"Hi Jack, I'm Detective Owens, Tucker Owens. That's my partner over there at her desk; Detective Maureen Wright. We're better known as Tuck & Mo around here." The detective gestured for Jack to come with him toward his desk and continued, "I got your message that the missing boy we're trying to locate, Matthew John Dixon, is your cousin's son."
"Yes," said Jack, "My cousin is on her way here and she asked if I could be with her when she talked with you."
"Well, the boy's roommate just left," Tuck offered, "We were trying to get a better understanding of this kid. It seems he's a good student. The roommate claims he's not one to party or hang out with a questionable crowd, but of course we have to weigh that against what we know about all other kids his age."
"Sure," said Jack. "I fully understand your position. If I may offer what I know about him; not that it's going to change the scope of your investigation…"
"No, go ahead," said Tuck. "We'll be glad to get a better understanding of the boy."
Tuck's partner Mo completed her phone call and the three of them went into an empty interview room for some privacy. They all sat down and Jack began to offer what he knew about M.J. Dixon. He began by telling them that he didn't know him all that well, because he lived so far away, but that the families were close and he kept informed about Iva and M.J. on a regular basis through his Aunt Emma. He knew that M.J. was a freshman at Northwestern University and that as far as he knew he got near straight A's in his courses. He was studying pre-law and wanted to be a lawyer like his step father, Jason Benedict.
He told the detectives that he knew M.J.'s father, Dr. John Dixon, fairly well, and that he knew John had been in close contact with M.J. for the past year, since John was working on a research project in the Chicago area. John apparently met with M.J. for Sunday dinner most weekends during the school year. In fact, he knew more about M.J. from his chief of police, because John was also her father. Lieutenant Margo Hughes was Jack's former partner and they still maintained that close friendship they had as partners, so it wasn't unusual for Margo to tell Jack about things going on in her family.
Then the detective in Jack felt compelled to offer, "Of course, what I know about M.J. is mainly what I've been told by his relatives. I really haven't seen the boy in a long time. I realize you have to consider everything I say as biased, because he's family."
"Well, of course," replied Mo, "but, your input is helping us draw a better picture of him."
Tucker added, "Yes, we're glad you're sharing this information. It all helps. Oh, and you keep referring to him as M.J."
"Yes," replied Jack, "um, that's what we've always called him. I've only ever known him as M.J. Oh, but I think some of his friends call him Matt."
"We've gathered that from talking with his roommate," said Tuck.
"We've been trying to locate his father, this Dr. John Dixon." Mo said, "We're not having much luck there. We've left several messages at the number listed in the boy's PDA."
"My chief has been trying to locate him as well," replied Jack. "In fact, I spoke to her on my way here and she was hoping that he was already cooperating with you all."
"Well, so far we haven't heard from him," said Mo.
"I can make sure that you have the right contact number for him if you'd like," offered Jack.
"That would be great," said Mo.
Sounding anxious, Jack questioned, "You said you have his PDA? Was that in the backpack that you found?"
"Yes," said Tuck. "The bag is chuck-full of items that a person would really be missing if they didn't have them."
"Like what?" asked Jack, "Would it be possible for me to take a look?"
"Well, I don't know what that would hurt," replied Tuck.
- - -
They had been driving for over an hour mainly talking about M.J. and John. Margo tried to call John several times, but Tom finally convinced her that she needed to give up for now. When she thought about calling Jack he argued that Jack was on top of things for now and bothering him would only slow the investigation. As they approached a familiar corner in rural upstate Illinois, Margo surmised she knew where Tom was taking her, "You're headed to your grandparent's lake cabin, aren't, you?"
"Sort 'a," was Tom's only response.
"What do you mean sort 'a?" Margo questioned.
"Honey, I'm not spilling, so you need to just stop asking questions," replied Tom, remaining steadfast in his attempt to keep Margo in the dark.
"That's not fair," demanded Margo.
"All's fair in love, sweetie," Tom said with a beaming grin. He was happy that she was finally thinking of something other than her missing brother.
They continued along the familiar country roads, taking all the usual turns. Margo was getting more and more positive they were headed to the Hughes family cabin. A smile grew on her face, as she thought about how nice it would be to spend some alone-time at the cabin. She leaned her head against the car window, closed her eyes and got lost in memories from days long gone; memories of when she and Tom used to take the boys up to the cabin when they were little. It was rare, but when they both had a few days off they used to take Adam and Casey up to the cabin and spend entire days swimming, fishing, hiking, and just relaxing by the water's edge.
She tried very hard to remember when the last time was that they were there. As she thought, her memories melded together into a sort of movie in her mind. She could see a young Casey running up to the lake-front porch with that huge bluegill, wanting her to take a picture and Adam doing his first back flip off the floating dock, yelling, "Mom watch this! Look what I can do!" while Tom sat on the edge of the dock giving him instructions. She remembered huge fish dinners with extended members of the Hughes family and quiet moments by the fireplace lying in Tom's arms on their rare nights alone at the cabin. The fireplace reminded her of those winter afternoons spent skating on the frozen lake and cross country skiing along the hiking trails, then all the red noses and chattering teeth anticipating hot cocoa by the roaring fire.
When Tom shut off the engine Margo was so lost in her dream that she didn't even realize they'd stopped. She remained sitting with her head propped against the window when Tom gently leaned over and whispered, "Honey, we're here."
Margo opened her eyes and slowly returned to reality, "Oh, I must have drifted off," she said, "I had the best dream honey."
"Was I there?" asked Tom.
"Oh, you're always in my best dreams," Margo said attempting to yawn through a smile. "Although, this was more like a bunch of memories than a dream, I suppose."
Tom got out of the car and walked around to Margo's side while she opened her door. As Margo stepped out of the vehicle she looked around and was surprised, "Tom, where are we? This isn't the cabin."
"Well, no, not really," said Tom.
"What?" Margo was definitely confused by Tom's reply, "Not really? What does that mean?"
"Come here sweetie," said Tom as he took her hand in his, "I want to show you something."
Tom led Margo down the gravel path to the lake. As they stepped through the clearing Margo recognized the view. The lake spread out in front of them. The public access was just a short distance over to the left. Now she knew exactly where they were, just a little ways down the shore from the family cabin. But before she could look toward the right to see the cabin, Tom turned and pulled her toward him so she faced the boat access instead. As if in protest, Margo tried to look back toward the cabin, but Tom directed her gaze back to him by taking her cheek in his hand, "It's not time yet," he said as he wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her into a kiss.
Margo lifted her hand to point back at the cabin and tried to speak, but Tom placed his index finger on her lips and simply said, "Shhh." They stood there in the mid-afternoon sun with the gentle breeze coming off the lake blowing through their hair. The late-April air was just the right temperature, not too cool, just extremely comfortable. Tom laughed to himself at Margo's protests, but he stood his ground – she wasn't going to turn around until he was ready.
"Close your eyes," Tom said very softly, "Just take a moment to breathe in the fresh air and feel the breeze across your face." As he placed another gentle kiss on her lips he could feel Margo's defenses loosen. He let the kiss linger for a moment and then calmly said, "Before you turn around I need to tell you something."
Realizing she couldn't win this round Margo relented, "Ok, I give. Go ahead."
"Well, it's been many years since anyone's been up here on any kind of regular basis," Tom began, "and over the past two years Gram has had a lot of trouble getting people to look after the place." Tom was referring to his Grandmother, Nancy Hughes, who was nearing her ninetieth birthday and still owned the cabin.
"Yes Tom, I know all of this," said an impatient Margo. "Could you move it along, please? I need to find a little girl's room soon."
"Oh," said Tom, "Sure honey, I just need you to hang on for one more minute. Can you do that?"
"Sure," responded Margo, "if you can just speed it along, though, counselor that would be great."
"Alright, where was I?" Tom said as he scratched his forehead, "Yeah, so anyway, Gram was debating what to do with this place and she, Dad, and I talked about it several times this winter." Tom mentioned the basic facts of their discussions; Nancy didn't want the burden of the cabin upkeep any longer; Bob didn't like the idea of selling the family cabin, but he and Kim weren't keen on the idea of taking on the burden at their ages either; of the remaining family members Tom and his brother Chris were the only ones who lived close enough to take any kind of regular advantage of the cabin, but even they weren't doing that.
"Oh dear, has she decided to sell this place?" a suddenly sad Margo asked.
"Well, yeah," said Tom, "Gram has decided to let it go."
All Margo could say was, "Oh," as she looked down and kicked at a stone under her foot. She was suddenly struck by how much she missed this place, even though they hadn't been up there for several years. She realized how much comfort it gave her just to know it was always there for them to steal away to, even if they never did.
- - -
That face, that horrible, monstrous face. It had to be a camera trick! David Stenbeck was dead. That evil, twisted man who had stolen her baby granddaughter and pretended she was his for all that time was "D-E-A-D, dead." "His wretched body was laid out at the funeral home." Lucinda was on the verge of a breakdown as she continued her final account of Stenbeck, "That pathetic woman even went and made sure of that."
By now Lucinda had stood up and was pacing the floor near their restaurant table. She spun her finger near her ear to indicate lunacy as she continued with a crazed look on her face, "That deranged woman, Julia what's-her-name, she took a gun to his funeral and emptied it on his corpse to ensure that he was dead." She let out a gasp and then straightened herself up, realizing once again that she was in a public place. "Good heavens, this has got to be a trick, a dirty, rotten swindle," she sternly whispered across the table to Ian as she sat back down "What kind of game are you and John playing at, anyway?"
"I assure you this is no trick," insisted Ian as he clicked open another photo on his computer. "This is the other picture John sent." This photo clearly showed the face of the boy who was with David. "Look at the boy, Lucinda. Have you seen him lately? And look closely, the man has a gun to his back!"
Lucinda was a bit distraught, but the boy did look familiar, "Oh my, is that M.J.?" She hadn't seen M.J. in years, but she did receive a graduation photo of the boy from Iva last summer, and Lily has several pictures of him around her house. In fact, Lucinda remarked to Lily once that she thought M.J. resembled John more than ever now that he was nearing adulthood.
"Yes, it is M.J. and he's obviously been forcibly taken by this man," said Duke urgently.
"Well, obviously," said Lucinda, "that is unless someone's trying to play me for a fool."
Ian reached across the table and placed his hand upon Lucinda's, "Lucinda, nobody's playing anybody. My Pop sent these pictures to me the other night. He said he took them as he was attempting to catch up with this guy."
"This is truly troubling my dear boy," said Lucinda, "I just got off the phone with Lily and she informed me that M.J. was missing."
"They know he's missing?" asked a stunned Ian. "I wonder if John knows that they know. Did he call Iva?"
"Well, I don't know what all Iva and Lily are aware of," answered Lucinda as she pulled her hand out from under Ian's and patted it several times. "And as far as whether either of them has talked to John, Lily told me that the police near Northwestern called Iva because they found M.J.'s backpack at some coffee shop. She never mentioned John."
Lucinda's distress over seeing David Stenbeck alive was evident throughout their entire conversation, which worried Ian. Ian was more concerned about M.J.'s safety with this Stenbeck guy. He was worried that the man had a gun and was obviously strong-arming his brother, and John's life could very well be in danger also. Right now he needed to persuade Lucinda to help him, not have a debate on the guy's death.
"Listen," said a frustrated Ian, "John told me that he was going after this Stenbeck guy to get M.J. back. I for one don't think that's a good idea, but you know how stubborn my Pop can be."
"Absolutely," said Lucinda with a stern gaze. "He can be stubborn to the point of exhaustion." She sat back in her chair and touched her napkin to her face and then her chest and rolled her eyes, feigning fatigue.
"And according to your take on this Stenbeck character you must realize how dangerous it is for John to go off on his own to try to get M.J. back."
"Well you know what you have to do, what we must do now, don't you darling?" Lucinda announced with urgency as she picked up her cell phone.
"What are you doing?" Ian asked as he grabbed the phone away from her.
A rather shaken look fell upon Lucinda's face as she took back her phone, "I am going to call Lily and inform her of what we know so that she can pass the information on to the police."
"Absolutely not!" exclaimed Ian.
A stunned Lucinda didn't know what to say.
Ian went on, "I can't let you do that, because John was adamant that I was not to involve the police."
"I know he's as obstinate as the day is long, but John's never been a foolish man," said Lucinda shaking her head in disbelief. "Well, I take that back. Yes he has. He truly is a stubborn old fool."
Ian explained that John insisted on not getting the police involved until after John spoke to him again. John had followed Stenbeck and M.J. to the airport where David passed M.J. off to some other guy he'd never seen before. They were heading to the international flights terminal and John couldn't go any further without purchasing a ticket. He was at a quandary about whether to follow Stenbeck or purchase a ticket and head after M.J. But he finally decided to purchase a ticket to France in order to gain entry to the terminal.
"John is insane," uttered Lucinda under her breath.
"In this instance I may agree with you Lucinda," said Ian, "but for now I really think I need to honor his wishes – at least until he calls me back."
"Why?" Lucinda's question was punctuated with a sarcastic look.
"Well, for one, I promised him," said Ian, "and for another…"
An infuriated Lucinda broke in, "For another, what exactly? This is utter insanity, I say, pure and simple lunacy."
"Just listen, I haven't finished telling you what happened," insisted Ian.
Lucinda pursed her lips and sat back in her chair to listen once more.
- - -
Iva and Lily arrived at the Evanston Police Department around 3:00 PM. Jack had already gone over all of the evidence the detectives had so far and as the ladies entered the squad room he was looking at a yellowed newspaper clipping that had obviously been folded and unfolded several times.
"Jack," said Lily with relief in her voice, "I'm so glad you're here."
Jack walked over to greet them and squeezed Lily's hand while he gave Iva a hug with his other arm. He introduced Iva and Lily to detectives Owens and Wright and explained that they had been going through M.J.'s backpack and discussing their interview with M.J.'s roommate.
"Um, are there any leads?" asked a worried Iva.
Jack softly answered, "They're still trying to collect evidence and really don't have a lot to go on yet."
"Ma'am, we're doing what we can with what we have," said Tucker Owens.
"Why don't you come and have a seat," said Mo Wright. "Would either of you like some coffee or a soda?"
"No, thank you," said Iva while Lily just shook her head.
The entire assembly filed into the interrogation room where the contents of M.J.'s backpack littered the table in clear plastic baggies. Among the collection were a wallet with 47 in bills and miscellaneous change, M.J.'s Drivers License, his Northwestern student I.D. badge, a PDA, two chargers (one to the PDA, and one assumed to be to a cell phone), a notebook binder filled with handwritten class notes, a key ring with several keys (a car key, a key fob to unlock car doors, and a few other keys that looked like they could be house keys), a partially empty pack of chewing gum, a package of sunflower seeds, the April 24th issue of the Northwestern campus newspaper, a biology lab pack, a biology textbook, and an MP3 player.
"Oh," said Jack, "here, this was in with his stuff as well." He handed over a well-worn envelope to Iva.
She opened the envelope and pulled out the contents. It was actually a newspaper article from the Oakdale City Times. The article was wrapped around a picture of John with his grandsons, Adam and Casey Hughes, which appeared to have been taken the previous summer. She asked Jack, "Wow, is this Adam & Casey? I haven't seen them in a long time."
"Yeah," said Jack. "I think this picture was taken some time after Hal's funeral. Adam was around for a few months then."
Lily added, "They sure have put their parents through the ringer this year, haven't they?"
"Yeah, it's not been easy for Margo," said Jack.
"M.J. filled me in on Casey's, well, should I say unfortunate choices last year," said Iva. "Never in a million years would I have guessed that one of Tom and Margo's sons would end up serving time in prison."
Jack shook his head and scratched his forehead as Iva made her way to a chair. She was reading the newspaper clipping.
The article...
"Hughes Named First Female Chief as Son Arrested for Burglary
The first order of business for the Oakdale Town Counsel in this new year was to name a new Chief of Detectives for the Oakdale Police Department. Former Chief of Detectives, Hal Munson, was tragically gunned down while working on assignment for the Commission on Crime in Washington, D.C. this past year, leaving the vacancy. Thursday afternoon, during an open ceremony Mayor Deloris Grey was pleased to announce that the interim Chief, Lieutenant Margo Hughes, a twenty-six year veteran of the Oakdale Police Department, will be filling that vacancy. Hughes is a decorated officer who served as a detective under Munson and previous Chief, Donald "Mac" McClosky. In her acceptance speech Hughes honored former Chief Munson by saying, "If I am to make a success of this, and that is the point, it's because Hal did it first, but I was watching. So, thank you so much partner." She concluded by saying, "Thank you all for trusting me to do this job and I will do my best."
Chief Hughes' words came moments before she was notified of an arrest warrant for her son, Casey R. Hughes, for breaking and entering and theft at the nightclub Crash. Official comment from the OPD at press time was, "The matter is under investigation and we are treating this as we treat all other matters of this nature." Chief Hughes and her husband, former Oakdale District Attorney Thomas Hughes, could not be reached for comment on the arrest of their son."
"Well," Lily said, "Lord knows we all make mistakes. Casey is a good kid, he served his time and he seems to be turning things around."
"The last I heard from M.J., John told him that they still don't know where Adam is," Iva said, almost as if to question if that were still the case.
"That's a whole different issue they're facing," said Jack, "Tom and Margo haven't heard from Adam since the night Casey was arrested. Well, I take that back. I guess he did call them one night to tell them he was sorry for his involvement in trying to cover up Casey's crime – that he was fine and not to look for him."
Casey Hughes had recently been released from an eight month stay in prison after trashing his grandmother's night club and stealing ten-thousand dollars in bonds from her safe. He stole the bonds in an attempt to repay gambling debts incurred during his first semester at college. Prior to college Casey was a popular high school student with a love of music and baseball. He was a good student and had a bright future ahead of him. His crimes came as a huge shock to his family and friends.
Adam, like his brother, was a caring, good-natured young man. While growing up, no matter what difficulties befell him Adam forged ahead with a strong conviction for doing the right thing. His forgiving nature was heavily tested around the age of ten when his parents sat him down and told him the truth about his parentage; Tom Hughes was not his biological father, but had adopted him as an infant. His real father was Hal Munson, his mother's partner with the Oakdale Police Force. Although this came as a shock to Adam he really never dwelled on it. From that point on he had two fathers and that seemed perfectly alright with him. After high school, with the love and support of his mother and both of his fathers, he moved to Los Angeles and set his sights on learning the ins and outs of the film industry.
After Hal's death Adam returned to Oakdale. According to Adam he was "in between gigs," at the time, so he decided to stick around Oakdale for a while. Casey and his best friend (who also happened to be Adam's half brother – another son of Hal's) Will Munson talked Adam into staying long enough to help Will's wife Gwen cut a demo CD. Gwen was gifted with a wonderful singing voice and sang many nights at Crash, the nightclub owned by Tom's mother Lisa Grimaldi and managed by Casey at the time.
Adam's disappearance came as a complete surprise to his family. While sitting in the interview room at the OPD, Casey hoped that his big brother would come in and help him out of his jam, but he didn't. Unbeknownst to his parents, however, Casey did later learn some of the secrets Adam was keeping and the brothers, including Will, came to an agreement that they would not divulge the secrets provided that Adam never return to Oakdale. Casey and Will continue to hold up their end of the deal.
After reading the article Iva thumbed open the envelope to replace the clipping and the photo, but she hesitated. Inside the envelope was one more item.
"What's this Jack?" asked Iva as she began to unfold a small piece of white paper.
"I don't know," said Jack, "I didn't get to that yet."
The paper was about the size of a note card. Inside the folds was a small key, smaller than a house key. Iva began to read the handwritten note on the paper, "M.J., I'd like you to keep this spare key in a safe place in case I misplace mine. Thanks, Dad."
"What is it?" asked Lily.
"It's some kind of key," said Iva.
"Let me look at it," said Jack, taking the key out of Iva's hand. "It looks like a padlock key or something."
Tuck asked to look at the note that Iva read. "I wonder what these numbers mean."
"What numbers?" asked Jack.
"Here, along the edge… 1064," Tuck answered. "It could be nothing. It looks to be written by an entirely different type of pen than the note."
"I wonder if M.J. was jotting down a number or something," Jack thought aloud.
"Hmm," added Tuck, "It could be the last part of a phone number or an address or even a page in a textbook for all we know."
Iva interjected, "I'm sure we could speculate all night about this, but what does any of this have to do with finding my son? John will be able to tell us about the key and whether the numbers mean anything. Right now I just want some answers."
"I'm sorry Mrs. Benedict," said Mo in a calm voice as she walked up behind Iva and gently rubbed her shoulder, "you are exactly right. We need to focus on the reason you are here – finding your son."
Tuck and Mo took turns discussing the case with Iva, Lily, and Jack. They explained that because M.J. was of legal age, under normal circumstances they would not declare him a missing person. But with the evidence in his backpack, especially the wallet and keys, coupled with the fact that his car was still parked in a campus lot, there was reason to believe that foul play may be involved. Of course this information made an anxious Iva even more worried.
"Iva, they're going to find him," consoled Jack as he put his arm around her, "we'll make sure of it."
Iva wiped a tear from her cheek and laid her head on Jack's chest. "Oh, I hope you're right Jack," she said, "I'm scared. I'm really scared."
- - -
"Hey," said Tom as he lifted Margo's chin, "don't be sad."
"Tom, I didn't realize how much I miss this place until just now," said Margo, squinting in the bright sunlight, "all those wonderful family times when the boys were little and our weekend getaways."
"Well, baby, that's just what I needed to hear," Tom smiled as he laced his hands together behind her head and rested his arms on her shoulders.
"I'm sad and you're smiling?" asked a confused Margo.
"Oh, no," chuckled Tom. "I'm not smiling because you're sad. Listen; yes, Gram is getting rid of the cabin, but she asked me if we'd like to take it off her hands. It's not in the greatest shape, and I hope that you don't mind, but I told her we'd love to have it."
"Oh Tom," sighed Margo as she hugged him tightly, "Really? It's ours?"
"Well, we still have a few details to iron out with the legalities," said Tom, pleased to know that he'd made the right decision. "But, we can now think of this place as ours."
Margo leaned back, looking at Tom's proud face. "Well, of course we will still let any family use it that wants to if we're not using it. That would only be right, Tom."
"Of course," smiled Tom. "In fact, I wouldn't have it any other way. But, before we can even offer to share this place I'm afraid to tell you it needs a lot of work. Don't be alarmed, but you really need to know the shape this place is in if we're to take it over. It's not really the same place it used to be."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
Tom took Margo by the shoulders and turned her around to face the lakefront side of the cabin. Right away she noticed the huge blue tarp covering a section of roof at the far end and the roof over the lakeside porch was flopped down as if it were a dead leaf about to fall from a tree.
"Oh my God," cried Margo, "Tom, what happened?"
"Remember those heavy storms that hit last month?"
A stunned Margo listened as Tom told her about the call that Nancy got from the neighbors down the way telling her about a gigantic tree that had fallen on the cottage. The tree took out a good portion of the main roof and apparently high winds were responsible for the porch damage. He said that Bob insisted on a structural inspection before allowing Nancy to authorize any work be done on the place, which Tom assured Margo had taken place a couple weeks ago. Thankfully, the foundation and main structure was sound. Although there was quite a bit of damage to the roof and some water damage to the far dormer and lower bathroom the main sections of the cabin survived the storm well. Unfortunately, though, due to the existing damage the inspector would not allow the structure to be occupied until some of the repairs could be made.
"Wow!" exclaimed Margo as she took it all in. "Is it even worth saving at this point?"
"Sure it is," said Tom leaning on his hand which was resting on Margo's shoulder. "And with the insurance settlement Gram received we should be able to start looking into contractors and get to work rebuilding."
"Still honey, do we really have the extra money this place will need in order to get it back into the right kind of shape?" asked Margo.
"Um, yeah," answered Tom. "Actually that's another thing I need to bring up."
Margo looked confused and started to question Tom, but he stopped her.
"Listen, part of the legal work that needs to be ironed out includes some money that Gram had set aside all these years to put into the cabin," explained Tom. "Now, I've told her that we're not interested in taking her money, and all that…"
"Well, you better have, Tom," said Margo. "We don't need to take Gram's money."
"I know sweetie, I know," insisted Tom. "But, supposedly there's a trust that was originally setup by my Great Grandpa Will (his Grandpa Chris' father Will Hughes) that Gram has used for upkeep and taxes on the cabin. Gram said that since she and Grandpa Chris never had to put any of their own money into the cabin except for things like furniture and decorations nobody else in the family should ever have to either if she could help it."
"But there can't be enough in there for all this."
"You see, that's where you're mistaken honey," replied Tom. "My Grandpa Chris was a very smart man. Not only was he a brilliant lawyer, like yours truly, but he really knew his stuff when it came to investments. The insurance money will cover a great deal of it anyway, so we really won't need to worry."
"Is it safe enough to walk over there and take a look?" asked Margo.
"Ah, sure," answered Tom, "we just can't go inside."
Tom took Margo's hand and began walking toward the cottage.
- - -
Inside a small room dimly lit by the sunlight that shown between the closed slats in the venetian blinds lay a ragged looking Emily Stewart curled up on a small bed. The bed was bare except for a plain sheet that was draped over the mattress. Emily winced as she attempted to roll over. Her thin blonde hair was matted against her left temple in what appeared to be dried blood. Her left cheek wore a visible bruise and as she reached her left hand to her forehead she let out a short cry of pain and whimpered, "Help." Attached to her wrist was a metal handcuff which was linked to some kind of cable that was locked to the frame of the bed.
Slowly she lifted herself to a seated position at the edge of the bed. She attempted to look around, but the sudden change in body position sent a shooting, blinding pain through her head and she was forced to close her eyes.
"What's happening?" Emily quietly whined as she leaned forward and buried her forehead in her hands. While she sat there rocking back and forth a broken memory came to light.
She remembered a knock on her Lakeview Hotel suite door. It was the middle of the night, but she was awake working diligently to finish editing an article for the morning edition of the Intruder, the tabloid style newspaper that she ran. The knock startled her, but nonetheless she rose to check it out. She slowly walked over to peer through the peephole in the door. She leaned in and let out a scream as she recognized the man standing outside her door – David Stenbeck. "No… no," she cried. "He's dead. He's not real." She was frantic, but found herself suddenly unable to speak louder than a whisper as she backed past the sofa and turned toward the bedroom. "Calm down, calm down, it's late. That's what it is. Emily pull yourself together." The familiar tone signaling a successful card swipe in her door lock rang through her head like a trumpet.
She was once again sitting in the dark room. Lifting her head she slowly opened her eyes. She could hear voices outside the doorway. As her eyes adjusted she scanned the room. Across from her along the opposite wall was a set of bunk beds dressed with sheets just like the one she was sitting on. To her left also draped with a sheet stood a chest of drawers beside an open doorway.
She closed her eyes tightly and winced in reaction to the pain that suddenly struck her left cheek and temple. Terror struck as she opened her eyes once more to see the man who stood in the doorway. Backing against the wall she pulled her knees up to her chin.
"Ah, Emily, you're up."
That all too familiar wicked voice reverberated through Emily's head. She put both hands to her ears and rocked back and forth silently crying, "Don't hurt me. Please David, what do you want from me?"
"Shhhhh!" snapped the man as he quickly made his way to Emily. Swiftly he grabbed the back of her head and covered her mouth tightly with his other hand. "Total silence is what I want!" he viciously whispered as he leaned his forehead within inches of hers. "Don't make a single sound or I'll be forced to use this." He showed her his gun that was tucked into the waist band of his jeans.
All Emily could do was nod her head to show David she'd be cooperative.
David pointed his gun toward Emily as he walked over to the window. Taking his eyes off Emily, but still pointing the gun her way, David lifted one of the slats in the blinds to look outside, "Someone's out there and you are not to make one sound, understand?"
Emily nodded once more. As she sat there in total silence she could hear voices outside the window. They were muffled and she could not make out what they were saying, but she could tell that they were quite close by. Her breathing calmed as she focused on the voices. She had no earthly idea where she was, but she silently prayed that the people outside her window were suspicious about what was going on inside.
David seethed, "Those nosey do-gooders. Come on… there you go, come on in and find me. That would make my day."
"Don't get so close honey," said the muffled male voice outside the window.
Emily's eyes widened as she suddenly recognized the voice. She knew better than to verbalize her realization but after she heard the muffled female voice respond she was certain. The people outside her window were Tom and Margo Hughes. They must know she was kidnapped and they've figured out where she was! All she had to do was remain calm and wait for the Oakdale police to make their move.