Read WHERE'S MY SON? Online

Authors: John C. Dalglish

Tags: #Christian Books & Bibles, #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery & Suspense, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Hard-Boiled, #Religion & Spirituality, #Christian Fiction

WHERE'S MY SON? (8 page)

BOOK: WHERE'S MY SON?
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P
anic filled the man’s swollen red eyes. “When did you talk to her? Where is she? Is she okay?”

Michael's smile was mocking.
“Well, let’s see. I saw her yesterday…she’s at home…and whether she’s okay or not probably depends on your point of view.”

“You…”

Michael jabbed Stan hard, forcing him back, almost tipping him over the edge.
“You better start talking right now, and don’t waste what breath you have left calling me names.”


Okay…okay...Duncan...the last name was Duncan.”

Michael
pressed the pole into the man’s chest. “More, I need more!”

“Come on
man, it was ten years ago. I can’t remember everything.”

Michael exploded.

“You’re telling
ME
it’s been ten years? I’ve suffered every day of every week of every month of every year since that afternoon,” Michael increased the pressure of the pole against the big man. “Now, you tell me more.”


Alright...he sold homes…Wade…Wade Duncan and his wife Katie, I think.”

Michael pushed harder.
“Where did they live?”

Stan was at the edge of the pool now
, and in full-blown hysteria. “Here in town…south side, I think. I’m not sure.”

Michael relaxed slightly, his smile returning.
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

All at once, Michael lunged forward, shoving the pole hard into Stan’s chest, tipping the big man backwards. Stan clawed at the pole as he started to fall toward the water. Everything went into slow motion.

As Stan began an inevitable
descent into the pool, his eyes grew wide with terror. Michael leered at him, continuing to push with the pole until there was no stopping the big man’s momentum. Michael stepped closer to watch him fall into the water.

The sound of a huge splash was followed by thrashing
, as Stan tried to turn himself over, while he quickly sank. It was too deep for him to stand, so when he reached the bottom, he bent his knees, and thrust himself up. His head cleared the water long enough to get a breath. Again, he sunk quickly.

He repeated the process a second time, just barely getting his face
far enough above water to catch a breath. He thrashed wildly, trying to stay at the top, but his weight was his curse. He went down for the last time.

Within a short time, all motion on the water
’s surface stopped, and Stan Turnbull lay on the bottom of the pool. Michael stared for a long time until finally he was confident the big man was dead.

He spit
into the water and walked away.

 

*******

 

Sam and Jason pulled up at Susan Turnbull's home. Everything appeared quiet. Together they approached the door and rang the bell. After no answer, Sam rang it again. Still nothing.

Finally, Jason knocked on the door. It swung open.
Both detectives drew their guns as Jason pushed the door the rest of the way open.

“Susan Turnbull! Springfield Police!”

Sam nodded his head to indicate he was going to search the living room. Jason headed down the hall.

Sam called out “Clear!” several times,
as he checked the living room, dining room, and two bedrooms. Jason checked the kitchen and then the master bedroom.

“Clear!”

Moving to the master bath, Jason pushed open the door.

“Sam
!”

Sam came around the corner and stared at the bathtub.
“I'll call it in.”

An hour later, Jason
was outside, leaning on Sam's car. The house was crawling with cops and techs. Sam came out, said a few words to a uniformed officer, and walked over to Jason.

“Electrocuted, hair dryer. Not a nice way to die.”

Jason looked up. “Accident?”

“Not likely.”

“I agree. It figures to be Michael Barton.”

“Nothing's been found to suggest him, but it makes sense. We know he was lo
oking for her, but what's the connection?”

“I don't k
now yet. Any family to notify?”


A brother lives on the other side of town. I sent two uniforms to the house.”


Okay. Can you drop me at my car?”

“Sure, I'm done here.”

 

*******

 

Michael returned to the motel, satisfied with the way Stan had met his fate. He thought Tammy would have approved. And now, his son
was within reach. He had a name, Wade Duncan. It was only a matter of time.

He poured himself a drink and pulled out his laptop.
A search for
‘Springfield, Missouri, real estate agents, Duncan’
took only seconds to pull up the smiling face of Wade Duncan, complete with a short bio. Michael studied the photo for a long time. This was the face his son called ‘Dad.’

Sippi
ng his drink, he read the bio.

Wade Duncan
was employed at Golden Century Realty on Battlefield Road. He has been top salesman of the year for the central division twice, and was a member of the Million Dollar Club. He was also a member of the local Chamber of Commerce and his church board. The last line said he was married with two children.

Michael stared at it for a long time.
Two children. One child was his kidnapped son, and he couldn't help but wonder about the other child.

Is the other child
someone else's missing baby? The Duncans have to be in on it, they have to know their children belonged to someone else.

He sucked on his drink. Maybe he could return two children to their rightful parents.

That would make Tammy very proud.

 

 

Chapter
8

 

Michael consulted his map of Springfield. The real estate company was on the south end of town, less than thirty minutes from his motel room. After breakfast, he headed north on Highway 65 toward Wade Duncan’s office.

He
found the address easily enough and parked several rows away from the front door. Golden Century Realty took up one end of a ten-store strip mall. The glass windows were covered with pictures of properties for sale, some covered with large letters declaring them ‘SOLD.’ He saw a secretary inside, but she appeared to be alone.

Michael
watched for twenty minutes but saw no activity inside, so he got out of his car and went in.

Coming through the door, he paused to lo
ok around. Ten desks lined the walls: five down one side and five down the other. Each desk faced toward the door and had two chairs in front of it.

I imagine a full office would look like a gauntlet of sales people.

He walked past the desks, toward a glass-paned conference room at the rear of the office. Adjacent to that room was a desk attended by a receptionist. As he approached, he was greeted with a smile. “Can I help you?”

The nameplate on the desk identified her as Peggy
, and she appeared to be in her mid-thirties. Slim and fit with dark eyes and dark hair, Michael found her attractive. “Yes, I hope so. I’m looking for Wade Duncan. Is he in?”

Peggy lo
oked around as if she was scanning for a wildfire.

“No
,” she let a smile slip. “Actually, they’re all out on caravan.”

Michael smiled, acknowledging her teasing.
“Caravan?”

“It's
a once-a-week trip to see all the new listings. They go out together and tour them. I expect them back in an hour or so. Can I have him call you?”

“Actually,
I'm pretty hard to catch. I’d better call him. Do you have his card?”

“Sure,
” she pointed at the desk directly in front of the door. “There should be one on his desk.”

Michael walked over and retrieved a card from the tray on the desk.
He paused and picked up a picture of a man, his wife, and two kids. They wore big smiles.

“I've haven't met him in person
yet. This is Mr. Duncan and his family?”

“It is. Really nice people, good people, you know what I mean?”

Michael could tell by the tone of her voice she was fond of them. He stared at the picture of the two boys, one a near-spitting image of his father.

Michael forced a chuckle.
“The youngest looks just like his father.”


That's Jesse. He’s a carbon copy of Wade. The oldest is Jack. Jack was adopted as a baby. I still remember the day they brought him home, they were so proud.”

She said it as if adoption was a noble act.
Under normal circumstances, adoption probably was a great thing, but this was not a normal case at all. Michael thought she probably wouldn't have such a high opinion of the Duncans if she knew how it really happened.

Of course, she would almost certainly defend them and say
the Duncans didn't know what was going on. He was sure the Duncans would claim the same thing. He was not buying it.

Michael stared at the oldest boy in the picture.

That’s my son. MY SON! All the football games, picnics, birthdays, and hugs belong to me. They stole them.

Wade Duncan had
taken Michael’s life as a father and lived it for himself. That woman had lived Tammy's life as a mother. Michael wanted to take the picture and smash it.

Michael became aware Peggy was talking to him.
“Sir…Sir?”

“Oh, sorry...I let my mind wander.”

“Can I tell him who stopped by?”

Michael thought about it for a moment. “Sure, tell him Michael from San Antonio.”

“Really?
Texas?”

It was Michael’s turn to
tease. “Yes, Texas.”

He forced a smile, thanked her for her time
, and left. When he returned to his car, his head swam with anger. If blood really did boil, his was frothing right now. His face was flush and he realized he was gripping the steering wheel hard enough to snap it in two.

He'll know my pain. He’
s going to feel the loss I felt.

Knowing what he had to do
, and knowing it required him to be calm and calculating, made him struggle to relax. If the rage took over, he could make a mistake. He wouldn’t make a mistake, he couldn’t, because he owed it to Tammy. And he needed it for himself.

He started the car and headed out of the parking lot, passing a van full of people in office attire.
As they passed, Michael locked eyes with the man in the front passenger seat who he recognized from the picture.

W
ade Duncan.

 

*******

 

Wade got out of the passenger seat and opened the side door for his fellow agents. They were still making fun of him. Wade had a reputation for telling extremely lame jokes, and his latest had caused fits of eye-rolling.

As they came groaning through the door, Gavin
Tanner summed it up for everyone.

“Worst yet, Wade
. You've sunk to a new low.”

Peggy knew what it had to be.
“What did he say this time?”

Wade stood smirking while Gavin retold the j
oke to Peggy.

“So, Wade sees a cat and says,
‘Hey, that's a Himalayan!’ and Judy says, ‘How can you tell?’ So Wade says ‘Cause him-a-layin’ right over there!’”

Peggy let a small laugh escape, mostly because of the lo
ok on Wade's face.

“See, what did I tell you? Worst ever
,” Gavin laughed.

Peggy lo
oked at Wade and smiled. “Pretty bad Wade, gotta admit. Oh by the way, there was a man here looking for you. In fact, he just left not five minutes ago.”

“Did he say if he wanted to lo
ok at property?”

“Actually, now that you mention
it, he didn't say what he wanted.”

“Did he leave a name and number?”

“Didn't leave a number, said he was hard to catch, but he took your card. He did say his name’s Michael.”

Wade tried to place the name.
“That's it, just Michael?”

“Well, no. He also said he was from San Antonio.”

Wade couldn't thin
k of anyone he knew in Texas. “Huh, can't imagine who it might be.”

 

*******

 

Michael let himself into his room. Sitting down at the little desk, he pulled out the business card from Golden Century.

 

Wade Duncan

Golden Century Realty

 

“My goal is your satisfaction
.”

 

Michael doubted his satisfaction was Wade Duncan's first concern. He stared at the card and began organizing the details of what he needed to do. Most of it he'd worked out in his head already, but how to get Wade Duncan alone was going to require some planning.

He let his mind wander to that meeting
.

W
hat will it be like to confront him face to face? To tell Duncan about the pain he’d brought upon Tammy and me.

T
he idea of demonstrating that pain, to make Mr. Wade Duncan feel the despair and the loneliness, was something Michael spent the rest of night reveling in until sleep finally took over.

 

*******

 

The next day, Wade was at the office until almost six in the evening, the last to leave on this Friday night. He’d talked to Katie earlier and promised to pick Jack up from soccer practice on the way home, then get some Chinese food.

When he pulled up at the soccer field, practice was still going on.
The coach had the boys in a circle, giving them final instructions for Saturday’s game. Jack saw his father and waved. Wade smiled and joined a group of other parents who were waiting.

Rick Dolan, Tommy's dad, reached out his hand.
“Hi, Wade. How ya doing?”

“Good, you?”

They shook hands.

“Fine
,” Rick gestured toward the field after releasing the grip. “Did you know coach was going to put Jack in goal?”

Wade
’s surprise showed in his voice. “No, is that where he played today?”

“Yup.
Did real good, too.”

Wade knew how much Jack wanted to play goal
ie. The circle broke up and the boys straggled over. Jack ran. He was beaming. “Dad, I'm playing goalie tomorrow!”

“I heard, Sport. That's awesome!”

“Will you be there?”

Wade put his arm around his son's shoulder as they walked to the car. “You bet. Ten o'clock, right?”

“Yup
.”

“I told
Mom we'd stop and get Chinese.”

“That's
cool.”

Wade ruffled Jack's hair before they got in the car.

“Cool,” he agreed.

 

*******

 

Thirty minutes later, they arrived home with dinner in hand. Jack burst through the door. “Mom…Mom, I'm playin' goalie tomorrow!”

Katie hugged Jack.
“Really? That's great!”

Wade
gave Katie a peck on the cheek. “Yeah, and I heard he was awesome in practice today.”

Jesse came down from his room
, and Jack gave him the news. Jesse worshiped his big brother. “Yay, Jack. You'll be the best ever.”

“Thanks
, Jesse.”

Wade held up the three
bags of Chinese food. “Let's eat!”

He was nearly trampled by two hungry boys
running for the dinner table.


All right!”

 

*******

 

Michael sat in his car just down the street. He’d followed Wade from the office as he picked up Jack and Chinese food. As he watched the house, the injustice ate at him. He was watching what his life should have been. The life he and Tammy never had and never would have.

The fire in him raged. So much ha
d been lost, so much had been stolen. Hopes, dreams, plans. They all died the night they took his son.

He
had better go. If the anger controlled him, he might ruin everything. Michael wrote down the address, started the car, and sped away.

 

*******

 

Saturday morning dawned clear and warm. By nine-thirty, the Duncans were all gathered at the soccer field. Jack had gone to warm up with his teammates while Katie, Wade, and Jesse went to find seats in the bleachers.

“Over here!”
It was Shirley.

“Hi
, Mom. You’re here early.”

Wade nodded at his mother-in-law.
“Did Katie tell you Jack was playing goal today?”

“Yes. I bet he's super excited.
Hi Jesse, give grandma a kiss.”

Jesse
, already seated next to her, reached up to give her a hug and a kiss.

“How's my little man?”

“Good.”

The game began
, and they cheered until their voices started to give out. Near the end of the game, Wade's cell phone rang. He looked at the number and didn't recognize it.

Thinking it might be a
client, he slipped out of the stands, and answered the call. “Hello?”

“Is this Wade Duncan?”

“Yes it is. Can I ask who is calling?”

The voice on the other end of the line hesitated.

BOOK: WHERE'S MY SON?
6.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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