Chapter 11 – Presley
PRESLEY
When my alarm went off Monday morning, I seriously considered turning it off and calling in sick to work.
After the weekend I had, I was exhausted.
Despite having the new alarm system, I didn’t sleep well, and neither did Ariel.
Both of us tried to go to bed at our usual time, but I was still wide awake two hours later when she knocked on my door and asked if she could sleep in my room.
I had to leave for work before she had to leave for school, but she assured me that she would be okay.
That didn’t make it any easier to leave her.
I think I hugged her at least four times before I finally had to leave if I didn’t want to be late.
As it was, I made it to work with only two minutes to spare.
Thankfully, it was a busy day, which made the time go by quickly and kept me from obsessively worrying about Ariel being home alone after school.
Regardless, I was packed and ready to go thirty minutes before my shift was over, all the while praying my patients would remain stable through shift change.
For whatever reason, patients had a tendency to crash during shift change.
Luck was on my side, and I all but ran to my car after giving report to the oncoming nurse. I vaguely heard someone calling my name, but I ignored whoever it was. I was solely focused on getting home.
When I pulled into my driveway, I exhaled in relief. Then, I sent Ariel a text to let her know I was home before I went inside.
She was sitting on the couch watching a show on TV. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, honey. How was your day?”
“Meh. Pretty boring. What about you?”
“Busy, but nothing exciting. Have you had dinner yet?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
“No, I was waiting for you.”
“Well, let’s figure something out. I’m starving.”
That had been our routine on the days I worked since she was old enough to stay home by herself after school.
After dinner, we watched a show on television, and then it was time for bed.
By Thursday morning, going to work was easier, but I still didn’t like leaving her home for an hour and a half before she needed to leave for school.
Once again, my day was busy. I hit the floor running and didn’t stop until it was time for lunch. While I was eating, my phone rang with a call from the Croftridge Police Department. I almost panicked, but quickly realized the call was likely related to the break-in.
“Is this Mrs. Calloway?” a man asked when I answered.
I didn’t bother correcting him. “Yes, this is Presley Calloway.”
“This is Detective Coleman. I’m calling about the burglary at your residence on Saturday.”
“Okay,” I said, unsure of what else to say.
“We ran the fingerprints collected at the scene. After ruling out you, your daughter, and Isaac Manning, we got a fingerprint match with Elsie Nelson. Do you know her?”
“Yes,” I blurted. “I mean, no. Well,” I stammered and took a second to collect my thoughts. “I know who she is, but I don’t know her. She goes to high school with my daughter, and they were recently assigned partners for a science project.”
“Did they work on the project at your house?” he asked.
“Yes, but like I said, that was a few weeks ago. And Elsie was reported missing two weeks ago. I don’t believe she’s been found.”
“No, she hasn’t,” the detective confirmed.
“So, then you’re aware of the other incident involving Elsie and my daughter,” I said.
“If you’re referring to your daughter’s report of going to a party to pick up Elsie and ending up in the hospital with a suspected overdose, then yes,” he said.
“It wasn’t an overdose. Her drink was spiked.” I couldn’t tell if I was being overly defensive or an overt dick. Either way, I didn’t like the vibe I was getting from him. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes, I need to speak with you and your daughter. When would be a good time?”
“I’m working today, and Ariel will be with her grandparents after school until I get home,” I lied. I don’t know why, but I didn’t want him, or anyone, to know Ariel would be home alone in the afternoon until I got home from work. “How about tomorrow after school gets out?”
“That will work. Say around four?”
“Yes, four will be fine.”
“Great. I’ll see you then, Mrs. Calloway.”
As soon as he ended the call, I sent a text message to Ink without giving it a second thought.
Presley: Any chance you’re free tomorrow afternoon around four?
Ink: I can be. What’s going on?
Presley: I just got a call from a detective. He wants to talk to me and Ariel at my house tomorrow.
Ink: You want me to be there?
Presley: Yes, if you don’t mind. I don’t know why, but I don’t feel comfortable.
Ink: I’ll be there. Did he say what he wanted to talk about?
Presley: Not really. He told me that they matched some fingerprints to Elsie, the girl who went missing after the party.
He asked if I knew her, and then he said he wanted to talk to me and Ariel.
He wanted to talk to us today, but I’m working.
I told him Ariel would be with her grandparents after school.
Ink: Did you lie to the cops?
I laughed to myself at his response. I didn’t need to hear his voice to know he was teasing me.
Presley: Yes, I did.
Ink: I’m going to send a prospect over to your place until you get home. He’ll stay outside. Let Ariel know so she isn’t scared.
Presley: Say what now?
I’d barely pressed send when my phone rang with Ink’s name on the screen.
“Hey, Ink,” I answered.
“I figured it would be easier to explain over the phone. So, prospects are guys who are trying to become patched members of the club. The particular prospect I have in mind is Jake Marks, Jacquelyn’s grandson.
He’ll stay outside, probably sitting on his bike in your driveway, until you get home from work.
If anything happens, he’ll intervene and call for backup. ”
“Oh, that’s right. I remember you explaining prospects to me. So, you’re basically sending a security guard to my house?”
“Pretty much. If that’s okay with you.”
“You trust him?”
“Absolutely. Like I said, he’s Jacquelyn’s grandson, but his dad and great-grandfather are also patched members. Oh, and Byte’s his uncle. He comes from good people.”
“Okay, I trust your judgment.”
“I’ll let him know. Be sure to tell Ariel. He might be there before she gets home, and I don’t want him to scare her.”
“I will. Thanks, Ink.”
I glanced at my phone and realized I’d missed Ariel’s lunch period. I didn’t want to try to explain everything in a text message, so I sent one asking her to call me as soon as she got out of school. Then, I sent a second one assuring her that nothing was wrong.
It didn’t matter. When she called a few hours later, she thought something was wrong. “Mom, what’s going on?”
“Nothing. Everything’s fine,” I said and walked to the break room so I could talk.
“A detective called and wants to talk to us about the break-in. I’m sure I’m just being paranoid because of everything that’s happened, but I didn’t want him to know you would be home alone after school today.
Anyway, he’s going to come by tomorrow around four.
I asked Ink if he could be there with us when the detective came over.
One thing led to another, and he’s going to have one of the younger MC guys hang around outside our house until I get home from work. ”
“Do you realize how that sounds? You don’t want an officer of the law to know your teenage daughter is home alone, so you got a biker to come over instead,” Ariel laughed.
“Would you rather come hang out at the hospital?”
“No, thank you. If I ever smell a GI bleed again, it will be too soon.”
I laughed. She wasn’t wrong. There weren’t many smells that were as bad as the smell of someone pooping blood. It tended to linger on the nose hairs for days.
“So, what am I supposed to do with the biker?” she asked.
“Do you realize how that sounds?” I retorted. “You don’t have to do anything. He might be there when you get home. If he is, just say hello and go inside. He’ll stay outside until I get home.”
“Do we know the biker’s name?”
“Yeah, his name is Jake Marks.”
“Mom,” Ariel groaned. “Are you kidding?”
“No,” I said slowly. “Do you know him?”
“Everybody knows him. He’s rich, and he’s insanely hot.”
“Um, sorry, I guess,” I said.
She audibly exhaled. “All right. I need to go. Hopefully, I can get home before he gets there. I wore sweatpants to school today, Mom. Sweatpants!”
“Text me when you get home. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I quickly sent a text to Ink.
Presley: You thought it would be a good idea to send a “rich and insanely hot” young biker over to my house to protect my seventeen-year-old daughter?
Ink: Is this a trap? I feel like this is a trap.
Presley: Not a trap. And don’t repeat what I said, or I’ll be on Ariel’s shit list.
Ink: Got it. Do you want me to tell him to keep his hands off your daughter?
Presley: Yes, but if anyone ever asks, I’ll deny it.
Ink: Understood
Shoving my phone into my pocket, I headed back into the fray.
I had just gotten my newest patient settled when I got a notification for a severe thunderstorm warning on my phone, followed by a flash flood warning. As I was looking at the alerts, Ariel called.
“Have you seen the weather alerts?” she asked urgently.
“I was looking at them when you called. Why?”
“I’m guessing you haven’t been outside, because it looks pretty bad out there.”
“We have thunderstorms all the time,” I said.
“Yes, but we usually don’t have bikers in our driveway during them.”
“Oh, um,” I said and tried to think.
“Should I ask him to come inside? Or open the garage for him? I can’t leave him out in the storm, and it’s too late for him to go anywhere.”
As if on cue, one of my patients hit their call light.
“Crap. I’ve got to go. I’m okay with whatever you’re comfortable with. If he tries anything, kick him in the balls.”
“Will do. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”