Lost Daughters (17 page)

V
IRGIL HAD JUST SAT DOWN TO EAT HIS BREAKFAST WHEN THE TELEPHONE
rang. It was Maureen and she was hysterical. “Virgil, you won't believe what's goin' on!” she wailed. “I just can't believe it! I just can't believe it!”

Even though a lot of innocent people had been hurt by the rioters, Virgil hoped that that was not the case with Maureen. He also hoped that Mel had not hit his baby sister or run off with another woman. With his sneaky eyes and curly hair, he seemed like the type of man who would hit his wife and run off with another woman. Being that he had such a sissified job that had him associating with beautiful models all the time, it would be just like him to get involved with one.

Virgil's thoughts began to run from one extreme to another. The unbearable thought that maybe Mel had done something to Loretta sent chills up and down his spine. With the kind of money she was making, and allowing that sucker to help manage it to boot, it wasn't much of a stretch of Virgil's imagination for him to think that Mel had run off with Loretta's money. Virgil's very next thought was how hard he was going to bash in Mel's head if he had done anything to hurt his baby sister or his niece.

“What's the matter, sugar? Is it Lo'retta? Did Mel do somethin' to one of y'all?” Virgil asked.

Corrine stood over him holding a pot of coffee. There was a wild-eyed look on her face. She adored her sister-in-law and niece, and if Mel had done something to them, he had a head whupping coming from her too. “I knew there was somethin' about that man,” she snarled.

“Virgil, did you read today's newspaper?” Maureen croaked, dismissing the comments about Mel. Right now he was the least of her worries.

“No, why? Hold on a minute,” Virgil said to Maureen. Then he looked at Corrine. “Baby, see if the paperboy delivered the newspaper yet.” Virgil returned his attention to Maureen. “You in some kind of trouble, sugar?”

“Jay's mama passed yesterday. Before she died, she told him . . . she told him that he wasn't her real son and that she kidnapped him when he was a baby!” Maureen paused to catch her breath. Then she shrieked, “JAY IS A KIDNAP VICTIM!”

Virgil yelped and dropped the telephone. When Corrine returned to the kitchen with the newspaper, he looked like a zombie sitting at the kitchen table.

Corrine waved her hand in front of Virgil's face, but he didn't even blink. She picked up the telephone. “Mo'reen, what did you say to your brother? I think he just had a stroke or somethin'. You need to get over here lickety-split!”

There was so much chaos going on at the nursing home, reporters running around like headless chickens and such, that nobody noticed when Maureen ran out the front door like somebody was chasing her with a stick.

When she got to Virgil's house, he was stretched out on his living room couch looking up at the ceiling with a blank expression on his face. If he hadn't blinked, Maureen would have thought he was dead.

“What's the matter with him?” Maureen asked Corrine as they both hovered over Virgil. “Did you call the doctor?”

“I'm all right,” Virgil wheezed, looking at Maureen with tears in his eyes. “I think it was somethin' I ate.” He slowly sat up and then swung his legs to the side of the couch. Maureen flopped down beside him, her arm around his shoulder.

“I can't believe what they're saying about Jay. That nursin' home must be a madhouse by now,” Corrine said.

“That's where I called y'all from. That place was crawlin' with reporters! It was crazy there, so I had to leave,” Maureen explained. “I can't go back to work today. First this story about Jay bein' kidnapped when he was a baby, and my favorite patient bein' the kidnapper, and now Virgil actin' and lookin' so strange.”

Corrine checked her watch; then she looked at Virgil. “Speakin' of work, I should call my boss at the cannery and tell her that I might come in late today.”

“No, you go on to work, baby,” Virgil told Corrine in a weak voice, waving his hand. “I'll be all right.”

“You don't look all right. You look like you seen a ghost,” Maureen told Virgil.

“I'm fine, y'all!” Virgil hollered, rising. “I think I'll take the day off, though.”

Maureen suddenly looked toward the coffee table where Corrine had dropped the newspaper. “Did y'all read the whole newspaper story?” she asked, looking at Virgil.

“I did. I can't believe what I read. Lord Almighty! Jay was kidnapped?” Corrine said, lifting the newspaper. “What kind of woman would take another woman's baby and keep him all these years? I don't like to speak ill of the dead, but if that old woman hadn't died, the law should have her put up
under
the jailhouse!” Corrine turned to Virgil. “Am I right, baby?”

Virgil swallowed hard and gave a weak nod. “Um . . . sure enough,” he mumbled. “But how do they know this old woman is tellin' the truth?”

Corrine and Virgil looked at Maureen at the same time. “Yeah, how do they know? The paper didn't say,” Corrine pointed out.

“On my way over here, the radio news said some investigators flew down from St. Louis late last night with Jay's real birth certificate that had his footprints on it. They matched Jay's,” Maureen said. “Not only that, but the news also said Jay has a purple birthmark on the back of his neck and so did the kidnapped baby. Plus, Mrs. Freeman still had the jumper, the cap with his name stitched on it, the same socks, and the shoes that Jay had on when she kidnapped him—every item that the mother had described to the cops. Mrs. Freeman had kept everything in a plastic bag in her freezer.”

Corrine, with her mouth hanging open, turned back to Virgil. “Like I just said, if that old woman hadn't died, they should have put her up under the jailhouse.”

Virgil just blinked. For now, he had to act as normal as possible. He wanted to “enjoy” his life while he still could because his instincts told him that Jay's kidnapping was just the tip of an iceberg. One that could potentially crack the case of Maureen's kidnapping wide open. Virgil had no idea what was in store for him: a stress-related fatal heart attack or prison for being an accomplice in Maureen's kidnapping. He couldn't decide which would be worse. Just from Maureen's initial reaction to Jay's situation, Virgil knew that he had to unburden his guilt before he died.

“Thank you. Mrs. Freeman was a nice old lady and I liked her a lot, but what she did was unforgivable!” Maureen yelled, turning back to Virgil.

“I'll read the paper later on,” he muttered with a series of nervous, prolonged coughs. “I guess I need to get my tail on to work after all, y'all.”

“You ain't goin' no place,” Maureen told Virgil. “Either you come home with me so I can look after you, or I'm goin' to stay here with you today until Corrine gets home from work.”

Maureen only agreed to go home because Corrine decided to take the whole day off so she could stay home and look after Virgil. Virgil was anxious for Maureen to leave. The bombshell that had just been dropped on him made it hard for him to look at her. Just knowing how she felt about what Jay's “mother” had done to him, Virgil didn't even want to think about how Maureen would feel if he told her that Mama Ruby had done the same thing to her.

Virgil felt even worse after Maureen had left, but his pain became almost unbearable after he read the entire newspaper story. It was a lengthy report, taking up three columns. It included pictures of Mrs. Freeman as a young woman and a more recent picture of her, and several pictures of Jay as a teenager and as an adult. The details of Mrs. Freeman's confession were chilling. The grim story had begun in St. Louis, Missouri, in June 1955 when Jay was eighteen months old. Mrs. Freeman's teenage niece had snatched him from his stroller while his mother was in a neighborhood grocery store. It was supposed to be a prank. The girl didn't like Jay's mother and had wanted to “teach her a lesson.” But after just a few hours, the young girl panicked. She was too afraid to return Jay to his mother in person, so she left him with Mrs. Freeman, her late father's widowed, childless younger sister, until they could figure out what to do next. Mrs. Freeman didn't want her niece to go to prison. She put her on a bus and sent her to live with relatives in rural Mississippi that same day. Then she called up her employer and told him that she had shingles and wouldn't be able to come back to work for at least a week, maybe two. She needed more time to figure out her next move.

A few days later, Mrs. Freeman received word from her relatives in Mississippi that her niece had committed suicide. She had not left a note, so the relatives had no idea why the girl had taken her own life. Mrs. Freeman panicked. She really didn't know what to do next! With the niece no longer around to tell the authorities what really happened, Mrs. Freeman was afraid that
she'd
have to take the blame for the kidnapping if she returned the baby to his mother. She was in her late forties at the time, and she certainly didn't want to spend her golden years in prison. After a few highballs, she came up with a plan and it was obvious what she had to do next: She would keep the baby and raise him as her own. His real name was Lawrence Dwayne Foster but Mrs. Freeman renamed him Jesus Christopher Freeman.

A week after the kidnapping, Mrs. Freeman left St. Louis on a Greyhound bus. She left no forwarding address or any other way for her relatives or friends to communicate with her. For years she roamed from one state to another working as a domestic. She had homeschooled Jay until he reached his teens. She moved to Miami in 1973 and had lived there ever since.

The report included additional details that were just as chilling as Mrs. Freeman's confession. A year after Jay's abduction, his alcoholic father strangled Jay's pregnant mother to death and received a life sentence in prison with no chance of parole. Jay's only sibling, an older brother, had to be shuffled around from one relative to another. He had dropped out of high school and become one of the most vicious pimps in St. Louis until one of the prostitutes in his stable shot and killed him. Then ten years ago, Jay's father had a massive heart attack and died in prison. Jay's biological grandparents on both sides were deceased, but he had a lot of other relatives still living in St. Louis. He was in the process of being reunited with them all.

Virgil and Corrine agreed that this was the kind of story that Lifetime TV had cut its teeth on. As far as Virgil was concerned, Jay's kidnapping was even more sensational than Maureen's.

After Virgil had read the newspaper article twice and watched a TV report on the six o'clock news, he called Maureen's apartment. His stomach turned when Mel answered the phone. “Dude! I'm so glad you called,” Mel hollered. “Your sister is damn near delirious. What I want to know is why she is so worked up over this Jay character—or whatever the hell his name is now. She just met him . . . or so she claims!”

“Well, if you think Mo'reen is foolin' around with Jay, you don't have nothin' to worry about. I know my sister and I know she would never go outside of her marriage,” Virgil said stiffly. He had to bite his tongue to keep from saying what he really wanted to say. He knew that if he ever lost his temper with Mel, he would say some pretty hellish things to him. The last thing in the world Virgil ever wanted to do was hurt Maureen. Especially now . . .

“I know she wouldn't, and neither would I, but I hope you can talk some sense into her,” Mel said. “I'm really worried about her.”

“How come you so worried about my sister, my man? Jay is her friend, so naturally she'd be upset about what he's goin' through.”

“I know that, but I don't want her to get all caught up in this mess. I don't want a bunch of nosy reporters or anybody else coming to my place trying to interview Maureen. She's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, so she might say something real stupid and make
me
look like a fool. That could cost me a few jobs.”

“Excuse me, brother, but that apartment is Mo'reen's place too. If she wants a reporter or anybody else to come over there to talk to her, that's up to her.” Virgil had to hold his breath and press his lips together because it was almost impossible for him to remain civil to Mel. “Would you please put her on the telephone?” Virgil requested with his fist balled, itching to slam it against the side of Mel's head.

“Hold on. She's in the bedroom lying down. I just made her take a pill, so she might be too groggy to talk.”

About a minute later, Maureen came on the line. “I'm fine,” she told Virgil. “But I don't feel like talkin' right now. Can I call you back?”

Virgil had to wait three agonizing days for Maureen to call him back.

“Did you hear from your friend Jay yet?” Virgil asked immediately, putting a lot of emphasis on the word
friend
. He hoped that that was all Jay still was to Maureen.

“Uh-huh. I looked up his number in the phone book and I just got off the phone with him a few minutes ago,” Maureen answered in a hoarse voice.

“He must be goin' out of his mind.”

“That's puttin' it mildly. He's in a state of shock. Other than that, he's doin' about as well as you can expect somebody in his position to be doin',” Maureen choked. “He can't sleep or eat much, though. He had to go to the emergency room last night to get some medication because he thought he was havin' a nervous breakdown.”

“Oh my Lord,” Virgil moaned. “I'm so sorry to hear that Jay's takin' this so hard. Sounds like that brother is fallin' apart.”