Chapter 14 Then
Then
A loud banging pulled me out of sleep. There was yelling as well. I sat up, scared. It sounded like someone, or a lot of someones, were trying to break down the front door. The walls around my bed were rattling. I cowered against the headboard, frozen.
More banging.
Was this an angry client?
My door opened and my mom appeared. The look on her face didn’t help me relax. “You need to get up,” she said.
“Why? What’s going on?” I croaked.
“Get a robe.”
“A robe? I don’t own a robe.”
She had one wrapped around her. “Oh, right. A blanket, then.”
“I can’t get dressed?” I was wearing shorts and a tank top.
She didn’t answer, just pulled the blanket off my bed and wrapped it around my shoulders.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
Before she could answer, the yelling was inside the house.
Mom led me to the stairs, and as we reached the top, about to go down, three people in black uniforms were climbing up them. I tried to back away, but my mom held my arm. They were screaming things I couldn’t understand.
“We need to go outside,” Mom said in a surprisingly calm voice.
“Why?” I asked, but followed her anyway, down the steps and onto the front porch. We had a bench and two chairs out there and Mom led me to one.
Dad was already there, watching more people walk into the house. Some of them were armed. Some had clipboards. Large white letters, which I hadn’t noticed before but did now, were on the backs of their jackets: FBI. Dad mumbled something about a search warrant to Mom.
I stood there, blinking, waiting for someone to tell me what was going on, because this was definitely something.
Finally, Mom said, “There’s been some suspicious activity at the firm. And they’re just trying to figure out who is involved.”
“Suspicious activity? Criminal activity?” I asked.
Dad gave a tight nod.
“It’s just an investigation,” Mom tried to assure me. “Your father hasn’t done anything wrong.”
If that was true, then why hadn’t they been open with me about this for the past several weeks? Warned me this might happen.
It was cold outside. The sun was just barely rising.
I wasn’t exactly sure what time it was—I’d left my phone sitting on the nightstand in the chaos—but it was early.
I wondered if our neighbors were watching.
I wondered why these people had come to our house this early.
I wondered why they didn’t call first. My dad would’ve let them in.
But as soon as I wondered, I realized they’d done this on purpose so Dad wouldn’t have time to prepare.
To get rid of things? I’d only ever seen this in the movies.
I didn’t realize this happened in real life.
My dad had obviously known about this for weeks now, though. When he was having tense conversations with Mom and taking calls at dinner. How had he known? Because he had something to hide? And if he did, had he already prepared for this?
Did this have to do with those missing papers in the office? The ones he thought I’d lost? Did those incriminate him in some way?
Ice seemed to fill my veins. I pulled the blanket from my bed tighter around my shoulders and sat on one of the chairs.
Neither of my parents sat. They just stood watching.
Nobody talked to us, which I thought was weird.
Maybe they’d talked to my dad when he first opened the door. It felt like we were outside forever.
Eventually people came out of the house carrying boxes, most likely from my dad’s office. A woman I recognized put the box she was carrying into a dark car that I also recognized. I hadn’t been paranoid after all. Apparently I should’ve been even more suspicious.
“We were invited to the Eubanks’ house for Thanksgiving dinner,” I said, not sure why my brain chose this moment to convey the message from two days ago.
Maybe because I wished Beau was here right now.
No, I didn’t, actually. I was glad nobody was here.
That nobody was seeing this except maybe the Ring camera across the street.
Could their cameras see this far? And if they could, would our neighbors watch this on loop?
Speculate. Share it with their friends. Post it on social media.
My mom looked at me. “Yes, she called me.”
“Are we going?” I asked.
“Maybe,” she said absentmindedly.
I pulled my feet onto the chair with me, hugging my knees to my chest. More people and boxes came out of the house.
My mom patted my shoulder. “This is a good thing. They’ll clear his name of any fraud and it will be over.”
I looked at my dad, who didn’t seem to agree with that sentiment. I hoped it was the first sentence he didn’t agree with and not the second.
“Fraud?” I asked. “Someone at your firm is committing fraud? Like against the government?” My dad’s firm specialized in workers’ comp and federal aid.
If a lawyer falsified documents so they could make more money…
that wouldn’t be good. My dad wouldn’t do that.
Tears stung my eyes as I watched him pace the porch, tension tight across his shoulders. What if he had?
“Listen,” Mom said, looking at me. “This stays here, okay? We aren’t going to talk about this with friends or family. His entire business depends on people trusting him. And they can. He’s an honest person.” She said it like he wasn’t standing right there, like she was trying to convince me.
I nodded. Exactly. He was an honest person.
“You can keep this to yourself? Nobody else,” she said again.
“Yes,” I said.
An agent approached my dad. “Mr. Blair, we need you to come in for questioning.”
“Now?” Dad asked.
The agent gave a curt nod and my dad left with him. Panic clawed up my throat as I watched him climb into the back of a black car.
As they drove away, my face was on fire. “Why did they arrest him? I thought you said they were going to clear his name.”
“They didn’t arrest him,” Mom said.
“He had to get in the back of an FBI car,” I argued.
“Just for questioning. He’ll be back. Come on, let’s go inside.”
If it was just for questioning, why didn’t they let him take his own car? Get dressed? Come in later? Fear raged through my body. Was he going to come back at all?
Mom led me back into the house. Everything looked out of place—couches were crooked and cabinet doors were opened.
“You can go back to bed,” my mom said, closing the drawer of the entryway table.
She thought I could sleep after this? But I nodded anyway and slowly climbed up the stairs because her calmness was making me more scared, not less.
The door to my room was ajar, and when I stepped inside I realized it hadn’t been spared in the ransacking.
My dresser drawers were pulled out, clothes on the floor.
My mattress was off-center. The hanging clothes in my closet were pushed to the side.
My desk drawers were open, papers on the floor. My backpack was even unzipped.
I meticulously spent the next hour putting everything back into place. Numbness had taken over my fear. Maybe this was why my mom seemed so calm. She was numb.
Then I got dressed and walked. I ended up in front of Beau’s house.
He lived about a mile away. I stared at it for a long time but didn’t knock.
I wouldn’t be able to talk to him about this.
I told my mom I wouldn’t. And this wasn’t just some minor family issue.
This was serious. My mom was right, this was my dad’s career on the line.
His future earning potential. Our livelihood. I kept walking.
I ended up at the skate park a couple of miles from our neighborhood and sat on a bench, where I watched two lone skaters navigate the course.
I wasn’t sure how long I was there, in a daze, but what brought me out of the trance was the sound of wheels on concrete to my left. I looked over to see a newly arrived skater riding down the path.
He paused next to me, one foot on the board, one on the sidewalk. “Praying mantis.”
My eyes traveled from his skateboard to his face. “Cudy,” I said.
“You know that’s only an inside joke if I’m in on the joke,” he said.
I gave a breathy laugh. “It’s an inside joke with myself and I’m okay with that.”
“An inside joke with yourself?” he repeated. “I like it. I’ll have to get a few of those.”
I pulled my foot up on the bench with me, hugging my knee to my chest. “I’m sure you already have some, you just don’t realize it.”
He nodded, then looked around. “You come here to see me?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Had I? I didn’t hang out at the skate park, but I’d obviously seen it before and maybe my subconscious thought I would run into him.
“You don’t think so?” he asked, rolling his skateboard closer to me and then pulling it back toward him.
“I’m not really thinking much this morning.”
“Welcome to my world,” he said with a sly smile.
“Is it a good world?” I asked, needing to feel some sort of hope right now.
“The best.” With those words, he threw me another smile over his shoulder and dropped into the course.