14. The Lead

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Who the hell did Travis think he was?

Seriously.

To suggest that my friends may know more about Kevin's disappearance than they were letting on. I mean, sure it was weird that they'd seen my phone and hadn't said anything, but like Luke said, they were waiting for me to tell the truth.

And obviously they looked scared because they know I'm in some sort of danger. Not because of thinking they might get caught for something, especially anything as drastic as attempted fucking murder.

Yeah, that was it. They were scared for my well-being.

But even as I tried my absolute best to convince myself that this was the case, there was a pang of doubt that lingered in the back of my head that maybe Travis was onto something with this.

That little shred of doubt, as minuscule as it was, scared me to death.

But I remained with my friends as if all was well, as I'd been doing that entire day. I didn't confront them. I made sure that I didn't let my face contort into anything other than that in which expressed everything was all fine and dandy.

I kept up the facade up all the way until school was out. Jory invited me to hang out, but I declined. I had business to handle once and for all.

___

I entered my home to find Raymond sitting on the couch in the living room.

"What's up?" I greeted.

He looked up from the TV screen to my face and gave a little smile. "What's up with you?"

I shrugged. "Nothing much."

I walked over to the couch after taking my shoes off and tossing my backpack on the armchair, and took a seat next to him. Upon looking at the screen, I saw that he was watching one of his favorite crime shows.

"This again?" I said, dully.

"Don't hate on this masterpiece of a show," Raymond retaliated.

"I guess I just don't get the appeal."

"How can you not?" Raymond shot a peculiar look at me. "Honestly, this one in particular happens to be one of the best episodes."

"Oh yeah? What's it about?"

Raymond's face lit up at the question. He was obviously passionate about the show and had no issue letting it be known. He turned the volume down a little bit and turned to face me

"So in the storyline, there's this guy that was married and had a daughter that was eleven years old. Well, one day he caught his wife cheating on him and in a fit of rage he ended up killing his wife and the lover.

The little girl witnessed it and he locked her up in the basement as a means to prevent her from ever turning him in. One day she broke out of the restraints and tried to escape, but he caught her and amidst their struggle he got carried away and pushed her down to the floor so hard, her skull cracked and she died.

The guy went insane. He lost his whole family, but all he really ever wanted was his daughter back. So he kidnapped little girls of single moms and killed their moms because he felt like all women are whores or whatever. He locked the girls up like he did his daughter and 'took care' of them. But two of them had died for the lack of proper care and his tendency to be hyper-aggressive. Third time around he was finally caught and the girl survived."

I sat in awe, staring at him with a blank face.

"What?"

"That's fucked," I deadpanned.

"Hey, watch your language," he said slightly amused.

"Sorry," I said, "but it is."

"Yeah, but it's based on a real case," he said, turning back to the screen, volume still down. "People like this actually exist. It's fascinating."

"It's sick."

"It's interesting."

"It's deranged."

"But it's real."

I shook my head. "I've never understood the fascination with death and violence in the media."

I'd never been a big fan of violence in general. I couldn't handle it. Every time I watched something of the sort, I always cringed. I just didn't see how pain was entertaining. More than ever after what had happened with Kevin.

"There are crazy people in the world, Ricardo," Raymond said. "Personally, I just happen to find an interest in seeing how these utterly mad people operate. What's in their heads? Why do they do the things they do? What can push someone to that point?"

"Sounds like you've found your soulmate in a TV show," I joked.

"It's meant to be," he chuckled.

"Yeah, whatever," I said.

The conversation seemingly had officially ended, which was fine with me. I wasn't here to go on about lunatics that kidnapped girls to fulfill their fantasies of having their long dead daughter back.

No, that was more of just passing conversation so there wasn't awkward silence as I gauged my surroundings.

I'd seen it on the table.

Raymond's phone.

That was gonna help get me where I needed to go. It was my lead and I knew exactly what I was looking for. The only problem was that I needed to somehow get it from Raymond without him knowing or being suspicious of anything.

I thought about simply asking to use it to make a phone call or something, but then he'd ask what was wrong with my phone. To which I'd then make up some lie about it malfunctioning, and he'd ask to see it so he could maybe fix it. That was the type of guy he was. But he'd see that my phone was perfectly fine.

I also thought about simply lying and saying I left it at school or something, but then I remembered that Raymond kept two phones and the one I needed was the one he claimed was "strictly for business." He'd then just give me his other phone when the one I needed was right in front of me.

No, I was gonna have to be sneaky and get it someone without him knowing.

Minutes passed and he and I sat there watching his stupid crime show. He would make comments once in a while and I'd either comment back or gesture that I agreed or disagreed with whatever he was saying. I was losing my mind. Did this guy not have to use the bathroom? Get a snack? Do something?!

When the thirty-minute mark hit, I was done waiting. I needed to be proactive. That was the whole point of the vow to myself. I needed to get things done at this point. I excused myself and went to the kitchen.

I needed a distraction. Something to make Raymond leave the living room so I could by enough time to get the information I needed.

I paced back and forth a while before an idea hit me.

I opened up a cabinet door above the sink and took out a stack of four plates. I took a moment to evaluate what I was about to do here.

Mom was gonna kill me.

I raised the stack of plates high, arms extended in front of me. I sighed. "Sorry, ma." She sure loved her pretty plates.

With that, I let the plates fall to the kitchen floor and they shattered.

"Dammit!" I cried loud enough to be heard in the living room.

In about three seconds, Raymond entered the kitchen.

"Ricky, you okay?!" He asked.

"I'm fine," I said doing my best to sound irritated at the mess I'd caused.

"What happened?" He rushed to my side and looked at the broken pieces of porcelain strewn on the floor.

"I was reaching into the cabinet to grab a plate for a hot pocket and I wasn't being careful. Some other plates fell," I lied.

"Look, I'll clean this up," Raymond said.

"No, I'll help. It's my mess."

"You don't have on any shoes. Get out of here before you hurt yourself."

Just what I wanted to hear.

Raymond had a bad habit of keeping his shoes on after entering the house and I was luckily able to use this to my advantage.

I didn't say another word as he'd already gotten to work on the mess.

I left the kitchen and went back to the living room to grab his phone off of the table. The adrenaline started rushing as I got into his phone. I had been worried there'd be a lock code, but Raymond didn't have one.

How careless.

I quickly went to his recent calls and scrolled down to the Friday where everything happened; The date with Sayora, the attack.. But most importantly at the moment, the same day I followed Raymond.

I saw a name.

The times matched up. The time I overheard Raymond's conversation on this phone and decided to follow him afterwards. Yeah, there was no mistaking.

A little after 2:30 in the afternoon that Friday, Raymond received a call from a contact he had saved as Shawna.

Now that I had a name I quickly went to his messages. I didn't have to look far, Raymond wasn't big on texting, so Shawna's name was only three names down after myself and my father.

I clicked on the thread and was relieved to see that their texts had been brief, so there was no need to scroll up to see a bunch more. Another upside was that in this brief back-and-forth thread between Raymond and this Shawna person, I was able to obtain all I needed to know.

Shawna: Where do you want to meet?

Raymond: Whatever works for you

Shawna: Just come by my new apartment then.

Raymond:
Okay but which apartment are you in again?

Shawna: Apartment #7

Raymond: I'll be there

A quick look at the time stamps in which these texts were sent told me that this particular conversation happened well before I followed Raymond. It was the day he got into town.

Nonetheless, I was one hundred percent certain this was the person Raymond had gone to see when I followed him. This woman named Shawna.

Satisfied, I pressed the home button and set the phone back down where it was. I could hear the sound of a broom sweeping up glass and I smirked. I did it.

Still, however I went to where my shoes were, put them on and went back into the kitchen to help Raymond with the mess.

___

After the mess was clear I made an excuse to leave the house. I told Raymond that I was going to Luke's and he said goodbye.

But I had a completely different plan in mind.

I hopped in my car and drove off. The address itself wasn't sent through text, but I had a pretty good idea of where the apartment was regardless. The town wasn't humongous, and the first time I went to the apartment I recognized some buildings and such.

Eventually I came upon the complex, parked and stepped out of my car. It wasn't until that moment that is started getting hints of cold feet.

What was I doing? I was gonna ring this woman's doorbell and say what? Tell her I'm investigating my brother's death? That she's the only thing left that can help me make a connection between all of this? That she obviously knows something about Raymond that I don't and it could be the one thing to help me put everything together?

And who was she anyway? How did she even fit into all of this? What was her role? Did she know Kevin? If not him, she certainly knew of this mystery guy my mother and Raymond spoke of during their not-so-private conversations.

All of these questions swam through my head and a plethora of possibilities in which this could play out accompanied them and caused me to wanna make a run for it.

I could turn around. Maybe figure out a better plan. One that didn't involve me making a fool of myself to this lady I didn't even know.

But I knew there was no other plan. This was it. I was already here. And even though my heart pounded harder with each step I took towards the door, I kept going.

I kept going until I reached the door and saw the machine with buttons next to apartment numbers and names.

I went down to number seven and saw the name listed next to it. Hawthorne.

Shawna Hawthorne?

I took a deep breath and pressed the button, hearing a faint buzz as I did so.

There was no turning back now.

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