CHAPTER Three
Megan Reed was the first to hear that Samantha King was missing and instantly thought foul play was involved. Unfortunately her father, Sheriff Reed, did not share in his daughter’s theory and had his own opinion.
“I can’t put out a missing person alert, Dorothy. Not until she’s been gone forty-eight hours.” Sheriff Reed sighed after speaking. This was the third time he had told Dorothy King about the policy.
Megan was one room over from her father, yet despite the distance, she could hear how hysterical Samantha’s mother was on the other end of the phone.
“No, it doesn’t matter. She’s eighteen and therefore an adult. All I can do - no, I know she’s still in high school but it doesn’t matter - all I can do is put out the word to my deputies that she is wanted back home and to let her know this if they come across her.” Dorothy said something franticly. “I’m sorry. She’s an adult and can do what she wants as far as the law is concerned.” More hysteria. “Dorothy listen. She’s probably out with friends and just lost track of time.”
Megan knew this wasn’t the case and found herself growing irritated at how ignorant her father was when it came to people her age. Samantha King didn’t have many friends, and the ones she did have weren’t the type that would lose track of time on a school night.
What if she was kidnapped?
A shiver passed through her at the thought.
What if someone is raping her right now?
She remembered several summers back when all the kids had been disappearing around the country. Elisabeth Smart had been found alive, but most of the others were either still missing or had been found dead. Many of them had come from small towns. That was the thing people seemed to forget, small towns were just as big a target as the big cities like Chicago, or New York, or Los Angeles, maybe even a better target because no one suspected a kidnapping would happen, and the law enforcement was not really that good at handling those types of situations. She felt bad for thinking this, but it was true. The worst thing her father ever had to deal with as both a deputy and sheriff were kids having sex, drinking, and doing drugs. There also was the occasional traffic violation, and once her father had been called to the scene of a domestic disturbance that almost got out of hand. That was it though. There were no murders, and up until that day, no kidnappings.
“If you don’t hear from her in the next forty-eight hours we can put out a missing-person report,” Sheriff Reed said. “But I guarantee she’ll be back before then.”
No she won’t, Megan said to herself. No she won’t.
Her father hung up the phone and came out of the kitchen. Megan pretended she had been reading the entire time.
He said nothing and took a seat in the chair next to her and turned on the TV.
“Dad, I’m reading,” Megan said.
“I’ll keep it low sweetie.”
Megan hated being called sweetie. She also hated it when he just turned on the TV like this. The guy had no consideration for anyone but himself.
“Doesn’t matter, I can’t read with it on,” she snapped while closing her book. She wanted to say more but knew it would only lead to a pointless argument, one which wouldn’t resolve anything, and rather than letting that happen she stood up and left the room. Sadly her father probably didn’t even notice since his mind was always completely wrapped up in whatever he was watching.
* * *
Tina sat in her room thinking about Jimmy and wondered what would develop between them. She hoped they would start dating and have some sort of meaningful relationship, yet she couldn’t help but think about the way Jimmy was and how he would probably never make any moves to call her or do things with her. That meant the relationship would be solely up to her and she would have to do all the hard work. If she wanted a kiss, she would have to lean into him to get one. If she wanted sex she would have to touch him in a way that signaled this, or come out and tell him what she wanted - but then that was all for another day. Right now all she really needed to worry about was finding the right dress for prom, one that didn’t need a lot of alterations and fittings since it was such a short notice.
Or I could wear my homecoming dress from last year.
The dress had never actually been worn since her date had dumped her three days before, all because she had pulled away from him while the two had been in his car out by Scooby’s Hot Dog Stand in West Chicago just off of North Avenue. And it hadn’t even been sex that she was refusing, just sex without a condom, which they could have easily rectified. Instead her boyfriend had been a jerk about it and told her he would pull out in time. She still said no and when he started pawing at her she hit him in the testicles as hard as she could and then walked over to the hot dog stand to call her father, which of course sent the guy home, the words ‘It’s over’ echoing from his lips as he got back in his car.
Jimmy wouldn’t do that, she said to herself and smiled. If I said no he would be respectful and would stop.
Or, better yet, go out and buy the damn condoms.
I will pull out in time, she repeated to herself, the voice of the idiot boyfriend echoing in her mind. God, what a fool, and worse, she had known girls who would have believed him and then later would think life was unfair when they got knocked up.
The phone rang.
Tina hurried over and looked at the Caller ID hoping it was Jimmy. It wasn’t. Instead she saw the words CELL PHONE followed by a local number that she recognized.
“Rebecca’s House of Sinful Pleasure,” Tina said. “Rebecca’s not in right now, but if you’ll leave your name and sexual request she will get back to you.”
“Tina,” Scott Goldman said. “Your mother is here balling her eyes out about the way you treat her and I think you owe her an apology.”
“Oh gee, I’m so touched. It is moving how much drama she can create, isn’t it. I bet she even got all teary-eyed when she told you my father died even though she walked out on him sixteen years ago.”
“Just because she left him doesn’t mean she didn’t love him . . . or you.”
Tina liked how the last part was added on quickly. “Well, I appreciate you nosing yourself into a situation that doesn’t really require your help, so I’m going to give you some free advice about tonight. When you f*ck my mother use a condom because the world doesn’t need any more male knitting genes in it, okay? Good. Bye, bye now!” Tina clicked off the phone, her mind completely disgusted with the fact that her mother was sleeping with a twenty-four-year-old guy who loved knitting.
* * *
Jimmy sat in his room for a long time after coming home, his hands holding a pair of handcuffs that he’d had since he was five. He had asked for them for his birthday, after the plastic pair that had come with a police costume had broken, and his parents had gotten them for him. Today most would probably think such a gift was crazy, but back then things had been a little different. The handcuffs had actually been geared toward kids, a tiny little switch making it so one could escape easily if need be. Young female friends had become familiar with the switch. His teenage babysitter had worn the handcuffs quite a bit as well and Jimmy actually had been startled to see a home video of himself sitting in the family room waiting for her to arrive one night, handcuffs in hand. It was weird and he wondered if his parents had ever thought something was odd about how much he enjoyed handcuffing the girls in his life? Being so young they probably hadn’t thought much about it. Looking back, especially if word about what he had done to Samantha ever came out, they would probably be horrified and even blame themselves for what he had done, their minds thinking they had triggered his desire at an early age just like some parents of homosexuals thought their parenting actions had caused the ‘abnormal’ desires. Jimmy knew this wasn’t the case though. He knew that the desires had already been in place. After all, why would he have asked for the handcuffs if they hadn’t been?