Chapter 36

The apartment was filled with smoke, the scent of sex and booze permeating the air. It was truly disgusting and Cheria refused to have a seat when Claire offered one. "18 years ago, a baby girl was kidnapped by your then neighbor, Diane Stone. She used to watch over your son and, by the way, I know him. We're…together, I'm his girlfriend. You were good friends with Martha Singleton and she stole the baby from Diane and took the baby to Florida, right?"

She hoped Claire wouldn't remember the baby's name because that was the only advantage Cheria had right now. Claire had ignored everything this girl, Cheria, said. What kind of name was Cheria anyway? That was a stripper name. Claire did hear the part about being with Jonathan, though.

"Wait, you're dating Jonny?" She lit a fresh cigarette, completely ignoring the one that had gone out on her floor, after burning a hole in what could questionably be referred to as carpet. "Aren't you a little young for my Jonny?"

Claire hadn't seen her son in over 15 years or heard a word from those people who had taken him. Nothing. It was as if she hadn't birthed the little bastard. All he did was cause her problems from the moment she found out she was pregnant by her then pimp. Luckily, Jon never knew of his existence because the prick had been gunned down before Jon was born. All Claire wanted was a phone call from him, just one, telling her he was still alive. Up until this moment, she thought he was dead.

"I don't know a Diane." She muttered, eyes shifting away from the silver haired girl.

"Claire, please don't insult my intelligence. You know who Diane Stone is because you were shocked when I mentioned her name. And you know who Charlotte Stone is too because she came to see you recently, asking about her long lost sister, Cheria. Only, my family name isn't Singleton, is it? It's Stone, right? My biological mother's name is Diane, not Martha, who was your best friend." Cheria gritted her teeth at the audacity of this woman, clenching her fists tightly at her sides and tears stung her eyes, refusing to let them fall just yet. "Please, I came a long way to find out the truth and I deserve it after 18 years of thinking I was the daughter of a vindictive cunt like Martha Singleton."

"Kid, what in the hell makes you think you deserve anything? Just be fucking grateful those damn do-gooders took you out of this dive and mind your own business. Digging that shit up isn't going to solve anything." Claire snapped, glaring hatefully at Cheria, taking her in. She did look like Diane or how Diane had looked before she had gone to hell in a handbasket after her baby had been kidnapped. "Nobody asked you to come a long way for anything, you self-entitled brat."

"And nobody asked your son to be raped by your best friend, but he was." Cheria remarked coldly, watching Claire's face turn pale white and folded her arms in front of her chest. "Now, if you want to name call, that's on you, but I came here for answers and I'm not leaving without them. So you tell me right now: Did Martha kidnap a baby 18 years ago? And was it Diane Stone's?"

Claire knew the only way to get this bitch out of her apartment was to give her the answers she wanted. "Yes." She whispered, taken completely aback by what she said regarding her son. "You look like her."

"Like who?"

"Diane." Claire snorted, lighting up a fresh cigarette and took a swig of Vodka, needing to numb the pain somehow within her heart at the mention of her son. "My boy…he happy?"

"Why should I tell you anything about him?" Cheria decided to play the same game Claire did earlier, pursing her lips tightly. "You don't deserve to know how he's doing or if he's happy. You don't deserve anything. He didn't even want to come and see you with me because he wants nothing to do with you. How does that feel? Oh, and just so you know, my Aunt Betty and Uncle Roy Ferguson were the ones who took him away from you and gave him a better life."

"I know exactly who took him away. I was there when they came and just snatched him outta this apartment like they had every right. Jonny was a good boy, and I was doing right by him. What happened with Martha was a big mistake, should've never happened." Claire snarled, defending herself while clutching her bottle. "You got your answers, you little tramp. Now get the hell out of here. I should have never let you in. You're just as self-righteous as those people."

Walking over to where Claire sat, Cheria settled beside her with her phone in hand and held it in front of the woman's face. She saw the tears in Claire's eyes, so much regret and pain in them. "This is your son now."

It was her way of thanking Claire for revealing the truth about the kidnapping and Martha's involvement. So far, everything pointed to the fact she was the kidnapped baby girl in that article Charlotte showed her. And with that, she also was not blood related to Jon.

"I know you don't like me, but…thank you anyway. I may be self-righteous, but at least you can sleep tonight knowing your son is a successful owner of his own auto repair shop, graduated high school almost top of his class and has a great life." Standing, Cheria headed for the door wiping a few stray tears from her eyes.

Frowning, Claire got up, looking around the trashed living room frantically. "Wait, Cheria! You hold on one second, girl." She ordered, finally hobbling her old backside down the narrow hallway, disappearing into what was both her bedroom and occasional workplace when she brought home customers. When she came back out, she was carrying a small shoebox and shoved it into Cheria's arms. "You give that to Jonny. Maybe he'll remember it wasn't always bad times here."

Cheria cracked the smallest smile, holding the shoebox tightly against her chest. "Maybe one day we can come pay you a visit without a motive. Take care of yourself, Claire." Then she walked out and closed the door behind her, heading down the stairs toward Jon's truck.

Once behind the wheel, Monique woke up and crawled from the backseat to the front, noticing the shoebox set beside Cheria. "Hey sleepyhead, how are you feeling?" She asked, firing up the truck and pulled away from the curb.

"Fine, for it being the back of a truck. What happened?" Monique eyeballed the taped shoebox, raising a brow. "What's that?"

"Let's find a hotel outside of Cincinnati, shower and then I'll tell you everything."

Considering Monique had spent enough time laying in the backseat, wondering if they were out of their minds for coming to this ghetto as hell neighborhood, she wasn't sorry to see it disappear behind them. Once they were checked into a little motel that seemed to be reasonably safe and clean, she let Cheria have at the shower. Noting the way her friend seemed to be checking herself over to see if anything, like bugs, was crawling on her. Monique had seen the building and could only imagine the units inside.

"Was it really that bad up there?"

"You have no idea." Cheria took her shirt off and pants, having been naked in front of Monique quite a few times. They were best friends, after all and had countless sleepovers. "Come into the bathroom with me." Starting the shower sprays, Cheria looked in the mirror to make sure nothing was on her skin, taking a chance when she sat on the couch next to Claire. "There was trash everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE. The smoke was thick and the stench…I had to breathe in and out of my mouth, which wasn't easy. And Claire wasn't easy to talk to either. Actually, she was a downright bitch."

"Um, maybe we should just get rid of those clothes you wore? In case there were bedbugs or something..." Monique suggested, moving around to check Cheria's back and her hairline, frowning. "Or fleas, just... gross." After giving the clear, Cheria hopped into the shower and Monique moved to sit on the toilet, feeling rather pleased she hadn't been awake to go in. Her stomach was queasy enough these days without adding stuff like that to the mix. "What do you mean she was a downright bitch? She didn't tell you anything?" That would be bad and a waste of time, considering they had come all this way just to talk to the woman.

"At first, no. I thought she would boot me out the door. But I managed to pump the information out of her. I was a little mean about it, but I made it up to her by showing a picture of Jon from my phone. Then she told me to give him the shoebox because it'll remind him it wasn't always bad living with her." Cheria explained while letting the hot water wash away the day's events and any remnants from Claire's. "And she did confirm Charlotte coming to see her, sending her to Tampa and the fact Martha did kidnap a baby. So all signs point to everything Charlotte told me is true."

"So, we can go back to Tampa now or do you want to continue investigating?" Monique asked, wondering if Cheria wanted to look in the shoebox or just leave it alone and let Jon open it when, or even if, he was ready too. "I would so nail that Martha bitch with all this, Cheri. If we could only get Claire to testify, or hell, even had a tape recorder... or use your cell phone. There are apps you can download and they record conversations." There was no way Cheria could let Martha get away with this.

"Way ahead of you, sissy. Don't worry, I have a plan to get Martha out of our lives forever." Cheria rinsed the shampoo out of her hair and began lathering it up with conditioner. "Enough about that for now, how are you feeling? Have you figured out if you're keeping the baby and telling Joe or getting rid of it and not telling Joe or getting rid of it and telling Joe so he can be there?"

So many options lay in front of Monique and, by the time they got back to Tampa, she had to have her decision made. That was the deal with her coming on the road trip. Monique chewed on her thumbnail thoughtfully, eyes fastened on the tile floor.

"I'm feeling fine, just a bit... sick to my stomach." She wasn't sure if it was morning sickness or just general queasiness due to the decision she had to make. "I think, Cheri, I'm going to tell him and go from there." She disclosed finally. "I know it's my decision, but it's not just my baby. He has the right to know and... I'll just take it from there." Honestly, this was such a major decision; Monique didn't want to be the one making all the calls. She wanted the Samoan's input and prayed he was as good a man as everyone, herself included, assumed.

"I think that's a fabulous idea." Cheria pushed the shower curtain open and wrapped a towel around her body before hugging Monique tightly. "Joe is a good man just like Jon. That much I can promise you and he'll stand behind whatever decision you make." They walked out of the bathroom and Cheria slipped into fresh garments and pajamas, throwing her clothes she wore to Claire's in the trash. That was a smart idea from Monique. "How about some food? We can relax, get a good night's sleep and then hit the road early tomorrow to go back to our men. I miss Jon." Speaking of him, Cheria decided she would call him once Monique was asleep, if it wasn't too late.

"Yeah, we can do that after I get a shower. I'm feeling scuzzy just thinking about that place." She had watched Cheria throw away those clothes, knowing the bedbug suggestion had been a factual possibility. "Oh, Cheri," Monique's eyes fastened on that shoebox. "I know it's meant for Jon, but you might want to check inside of it for anything stupid. You know - roaches, crack pipes, just in case."

As tempted as Cheria was to open the shoebox, she didn't. It was heavily taped, so she doubted anything, not even a cockroach, could slide inside. They ate, watched a couple movies with ice cream and then finally fell asleep a little after midnight together. Cheria had set the alarm on her phone to get up at 8 AM because check-out time was at 10. Sure enough, the girls were up and prepared to go at 7 AM, ready for the long drive back to Tampa. They talked more in depth about the conversation Cheria had with Claire and she came clean about the plan she had for Martha. All she had to do was run it by Jon and hopefully the rest would fall into place.

"I'm more worried about Hussey and this damn court hearing coming up." Cheria admitted halfway through the road trip, stopping for the 5th time because of Monique's bladder issue. The baby was apparently to blame. "And I think we should cork you up until we get home."

"If I thought corking it up would work, I would've done it already." Monique said dryly, not overly amused with this. Apparently, from her Internet browsing using Google's Incognito - who knew it was more than porn? - the first and third trimester were great on the bladder. Sarcasm, all of it. "Actually, I'd probably swell like a balloon until it all came out my nose and ears. And Hussey doesn't have a leg to stand on, we all know it. There is absolutely no evidence that it was Jon who beat him up at all. There's no evidence of anything; the fact this case actually made it this far is stupid. Does Jon have a lawyer? Because his lawyer could demand to see whatever evidence they may have. There's no way it can go far without anything to back up that asshole's claims."

"Uncle Roy…" Cheria frowned deeply, the realization that Betty and Roy weren't really her blood relatives piercing her already bleeding heart. "He got Jon a lawyer, a good one too. But Curtis's Dad has a lot of money and money talks, you and I both know that. And unless I get that blood test done with Charlotte to prove once and for all Jon and I aren't related, it's basically Jon's word against the high school's quarterback. What did I ever see in that dick anyway?" She regretted few things in her life and dating Curtis was one of them. "I just hope we can get through this and he's not sent to jail because of me."