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“I’m done playing games,” he barks. “This has gone on long enough. You were right. We should have called them right away. I just needed to be certain of who was responsible for this.”
“Just think about this first,” I plead with him, worried he’s acting too rashly. “You swore calling the cops wasn’t an option.”
“I’m not going to get wrapped up in the same endless stream of dirty games as my
father,” he insists. “I said I was going to do things differently, and now it’s time to do that. I have to set an example for the Hendersons and anyone else who even thinks about trying something like this after them. Jameson is going to play by the rules now. These twisted games aren’t going to work anymore.”
“Wait!” I throw my hand around his to stop him from dialing. “I have an idea. What about Coach Granger? He knows just as well as you do that the cops around here are corrupt. But he said he has a detective friend or something that he can trust. They helped him find out Lily and Malcolm were behind his son’s death.”
“Do you think he’d help us?” Emmett asks me, his face bright and open.
I shrug. “We stand just as good of a chance with him as we would with the rest of the police.”
“Okay. Call him,” he commands urgently.
I pull out my phone and step to the other side of the room. I tell Coach Granger I don’t have time to explain, but that I need someone within the authorities that we can actually trust. Without hesitation, he gives me the name and number of his friend, Detective Williams.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask one more time before Emmett calls.
He nods assertively. “I’m sure.” He puts the phone on speaker as it rings.
“Yeah?” A curt and raspy voice picks up.
“Detective Williams?” Emmett asks.
“Who’s this?” the man shoots back, sounding like his mouth is full of food.
“Emmett Jameson,” he replies. “Coach Granger told me I could trust you.”
The line falls silent for a moment. Then, “Wow…Mr. Jameson himself,” he marvels. “Listen, son, I don’t know what you need…But I don’t play into all the bullshit the rest of the force around here does. I can’t be bought off for whatever trouble it is you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“Then you’re just the guy I need,” Emmett pleads. “I need to report a disappearance. Possibly two. Mrs. Jameson and her daughter, Bernadette Jameson. And I know where they are.”
Silence again, muffled by a big gulp and the ruffle of what sounds like a paper napkin against the guy’s face. “Where?” he asks finally.
“With Liam and Malcolm Henderson.”
We hear a pen plopping to a pad of paper, as if he’s not even going to bother writing it down.
“The Hendersons?” he gaffs. “It’s going to be pretty hard to go after them for anything. They’re quickly becoming even more powerful than your father was.”
“That may be, but this town still depends on Jameson Automobiles,” Emmett insists. “And if they get their hands on my company, they won’t look out for the people here the way I will. So, everyone’s jobs and this entire economy rests on your ability to save Bernadette and my mother and stop whatever they’re planning. Can you help us?”
Detective Williams tells us he will see what he can do. We sit side by side on the edge of Emmett’s bed and anxiously wait for him to call back. I squeeze his hand tightly in mine as we watch the sun slowly set outside his bedroom window. We’re both mulling over every possible scenario, the best and the worst. He could call back and say he has Bernadette and is bringing her home alive and well. He could call back and say everything has gone wrong.
Finally, the phone rings, making us both jump. Emmett flies from the bed, flipping the phone back onto speaker. “Detective Williams?”
“Emmett,” he answers with a big sigh that makes our hearts sink. “Look, son, I gotta ask you: are you feeling okay?”
It’s not a question either of us were expecting.
“Did you find my mom and Bernadette?” he asks frantically, shaking away the odd question. “Are they okay? Did you rescue them?”
“I’m afraid we couldn’t rescue them…” he says grimly. “Because they weren’t kidnapped.”
“What are you talking about?” Emmett freezes. My mouth drops. His tone had us both preparing for the worst, but this…this is something different.
“They were with the Hendersons, alright,” he clarifies. “But they said they were there of their own free will. To get away from you.”
