19. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
Melanie
I shouldn't be watching this. Every instinct screams to turn off my laptop, but I can't look away from the live stream of the press conference. The Whispering Pines town hall backdrop seems surreal - how many times had I covered events there as a reporter? Now, I can't believe what I'm seeing.
Sheriff Tobias Trenton stands on the stage. He has to lean over to speak into the podium microphone. He's flanked by three large photos. My heart stops when I see mine. Cameron used my engagement photo, the one where we're laughing at something. That was such a perfect spring day. It seems so long ago; all of it feels like a different life.
Wiping a tear from my cheek, I whisper, “You sick bastard.”
On the screen next to my picture, the teacher's school portrait shows her warm smile, the kind that would make any parent trust their children with her. The librarian's photo appears recent; she looks intelligent and confident. All three of us smiling, happy women.
How could we have known what was coming?
“Thank you for coming. Tonight, we're here asking for the public's help. These three women,” Tobias's voice fills my tiny apartment as he glances at our pictures, “are missing, and three families, along with the authorities, are searching for answers.”
Behind him sit those families. The Whitakers. The tears flow even more. Evelyn, who's been a mother to me when mine couldn't, is clutching Charlie's hand. Charlie, the dad I never had, who the first time I met him, said I was the best thing for his son. Carson and Colton flanking their wives. All of them welcoming, supporting, and loving me. Then my eyes take in my Cameron. I touch the screen as a sob leaves me. He looks like he hasn't slept in weeks. Dark circles under his eyes, jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle twitching. Even on the small screen, I can tell he's lost weight. His suit jacket hangs looser than it should.
Bringing my knees up, I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold in the pain as the teacher's sister approaches the podium. Her voice breaks as she describes her sister's dedication to her students, how she'd just started a reading program for struggling first graders. She begs the camera to please come forward if you know anything about our disappearances.
Michael stands slightly behind Cameron, hand on his shoulder, playing the concerned friend perfectly. I slide my coffee mug as far as I can away, fighting the urge to throw it at his face on my screen.
The librarian's husband can barely speak through his tears, clutching a photo of their wedding day. He whispers for someone, anyone, to help find the love of his life.
Next is Cameron. He and Charlie approach the podium. “This is Melanie,” Cameron starts. “She went missing on the day we were to be married. Mel's smart, has a h-heart of go-ld, she's bea-uti-ful.” He uses the back of his hand to wipe away the tears. “So-me-o-ne-” Cameron puts his head down and cries ugly tears. His dad places a hand on his back and takes over. “Melanie, if you can hear this, please know we love you, we miss you, and we will find you. Please, if you know anything about any of these ladies' disappearances, please call the Sheriff's office.” The two of them turn and walk back to their seats.
Moses, who must have heard Cameron's voice, is now sitting on my lap, patting my face.
“These disappearances,” Tobias takes over speaking, “while we cannot conclusively link them to each other, we are confident they were done by the same individuals. The three women didn't know each other, they didn't live or work near each other. According to the families, they have no connection at all.” Tobias grips the podium with both hands. “We need your help in finding these women. If you saw anything or know anything, please call the Whispering Pines Sheriff's office. The number should be on your screen.” Tobias steps next to the podium so we can see him in his entirety. “Mr. Michael Thorne has generously offered a reward of three hundred thousand dollars for any information that would lead to finding these ladies.”
The families erupt into applause for Michael as he walks to the podium somberly, half-smiling and waving. My stomach churns.
“I know, as a community, we can bind together and help the authorities not only bring these ladies home but bring the horrid people who did this to justice. Please, call if you know or saw anything, and please, please be safe. Melanie, we won't stop until we find you.”
“Message received, ass hat.” The idea of the man who's responsible for putting out a public plea to find us makes me want to scream.
A knock at my door makes me jump so hard I scare Moses. Heart hammering, I set him on the sofa and tiptoe to the peephole in the door. Having done this too many times to count, I've perfected this move, operating like a ninja would. Outside the door, I see Mrs. Post and Cindy.
“Mel, it's just us.” Mrs. Post's voice carries through the door. When I open it, she and Cindy slip inside quickly.
“We saw the broadcast,” Cindy says softly.
“I figured,” I whisper. “Can you just give me till tomorrow morning so I can pack up?”
“We're not turning you in. No one in the building would. But we think it's only the two of us who have seen you without your disguise.” Mrs. Post's tone brooks no argument as she settles into my chair. “And we're not telling anyone. We,” she points from Cindy to herself, “take care of our own.”
“But the reward money-” I say, dumbfounded by what I'm hearing. “That's a lot of money.”
“It is, for sure.” Cindy takes a seat by Mrs. Post. Moses, thrilled with visitors, jumps on her lap.
“Sure, choose her over me. I see how it is.” Mrs. Post scolds him. “Yes, it's a lot of money, but when you've been through what we have, there's no amount of money that could make us put someone else through that hell.”
“Amen,” Cindy says, stroking Moses. “We're here not because of the money, but because we thought you might want to talk.”
I sigh with the heaviness of knowing I can't tell either of them anything. I've come to adore these women, and six months ago I would have trusted them. But being through what I've been through and who's put me here, I can't risk it. Besides, once you start thinking about it, three hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money to say no to.
Glancing at the screen, I see the camera pan the room and show Michael hugging members of the other women's families. How dare he! He knows exactly what happened, and yet he's consoling them while basking in their praise and gratitude for the reward.
“That evil bastard,” I hiss. Mrs. Post reaches for my trembling hand.
“You know something about him, don't you?” Cindy asks quietly. When I look at her in surprise, she shrugs. “I'd react the same.”
On screen, Cameron is staring at Michael with such gratitude it makes me physically ill. I have to tell someone, have to make someone understand. “Michael is-” My voice catches. “He's not ho everyone thinks he is.”
“And you don't want to talk about it?” Mrs. Post looks at me with her soft eyes.
“I can't, not until I have the proof I need.”
“Melanie,” Cindy says my name with such kindness it touches my heart, “was your fiancé good to you?”
“Yes, very much so.” I smiled for the first time tonight. “He's the nicest man I know.”
“You can't go to him?” Cindy raises a hand. “I'm not prying, just asking.”
“Same thing,” Mrs. Post chuckles. “She would have gone to him if she could have.”
“Exactly,” I shut my laptop. “I wish I could tell you, but right now, I can't.” I look at each of them. “Are you sure it's okay if I stay here?”
“Yes.” They answer together. “You're safe here,” Mrs. Post says. “Now it's time for my show. You want drama? Come watch the housewives with me.” She stands and comes over, giving me a hug. “I promise, you're safe.”
“Me too. I should get home in case little man wakes up.” Cindy says as she hugs me. “Together, we're all we have.”
“Thank you so much, ladies. It means the world to me.” I hold the door open for them. “Honestly, thank you.”
When they're gone, I sit down at the table. I feel that I could trust them, but Michael's offering is tempting. Shit, I'd turn myself in for that. Instantly, pictures of my mom floating in the ocean invade my mind with such force I have to close my eyes to push them away.
“Against my better judgment, I'll stay, for now. But I'm going on high alert.” Grabbing my laptop, I go online to order micro tail cameras for the hall. I should have already had them up, but I've gotten lazy sitting here researching Michael online.
Michael at the podium saying, “Melanie, we won't stop until we find you,” floods my mind.
Message received; I need to do better when I'm here. An image of Cameron standing next to his dad tonight is the next to pop in. His devastated face, saggy skin, and hollow eyes. My heart breaks.
“You've hurt enough people. I will find out what I need to take you down,” I announce to myself. “But for now, I need to pack a bug out bag. Just in case.”