18. Chapter 18
Chapter 18
Cameron
The fluorescent lights in the Sheriff's office boardroom buzz like angry wasps, making my headache worse. Mom keeps patting my knee under the table, probably trying to be comforting, but it's just annoying. Like I need a reminder of how worried everyone is.
“Sheriff Trenton will be right with you,” Holly, the Sheriff's right-hand lady, tells us as she sets down a tray containing a protein drink, a carafe of coffee, creamers, and cups. She picks up the protein drink and puts it at the empty spot near the head of the table. She gives me a sympathetic smile that makes me want to scream. “Can I get anyone anything else?”
Before any of us can answer, Tobias strides in, a thick manila folder under his arm. It's a good thing this man is the Sheriff; his presence is terrifying. The dude has muscles on muscles. And the way he looks at you, it's so intense. He has a way about him that makes me want to confess to every bad thing I've ever done, thought about, or will think of. No, Tobias Trenton isn't a man to be messed with. “Thanks, Holly.” He nods at each of us. “Charlie, Evelyn, Cameron. Oh, and Michael's here–ah, thanks for coming in.”
“Anything to help find Melanie,” Michael says, leaning forward earnestly. I wish I had as much faith in finding her as he does.
“Right.” Tobias spreads some papers on the table. “I called you in today so we can have a chat about where we stand.” He glances at Michael, then at my dad. “Alright if he stays?”
Dad peers at me, and I shake my head yes. “Yeah, Michael's family.”
“Fine.” Tobias takes his seat and cracks open the protein drink.
“Let me get right to the point. We don't know anything other than what we already know.”
“So, you brought us here to tell us nothing?” I snapped, and Mom pinched my knee. “What? Why bring us here? Shocker, she's gone, we know.”
“Bro, let the Sheriff talk, he must have had a reason,” Michael interjected.
“Thanks.” Tobias took a drink, then continued. “What I want to discuss is going to the press. So far, we've been pretty hush-hush about Melanie's disappearance. But with the other two, I'd hate to think this is a pattern.”
“Yeah, what about the other missing women?” Dad asks. “The teacher, the librarian - are they connected?”
Tobias's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “We're exploring all possibilities. But I'll be straight with you - Melanie's case is different. The other two, they were clearly taken.” He places his hand on the folder. “The scenes are messy and in places where there weren't any people. Melanie was in a place with a lot of people in proximity, and she left a note.” He looked at my mom, who was biting her lip. “Now, do I think Melanie just up and left? No, there are signs she put up a struggle, and with the camera being taken down. Well, my gut says she didn't leave willingly. I just don't know if it's the same.”
“But she had time to write a note,” Michael points out. “If someone took her-”
“Notes can be forged; you all said it didn't sound like her.” Tobias cuts him off. “And there's still the question of why she hasn't contacted anyone. No calls, no emails, nothing. That suggests coercion.”
I close my eyes, fighting the image of Melanie being forced to stay silent. When I open them, Tobias is watching me with what I would guess was sympathy.
“We're not giving up,” he says firmly. “But I need you all to be prepared because this could take time. That's why I think if we held a press conference and included all three families, it would help.”
Dad nodded his head, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “I see where you're going; with the media we would get more exposure. More people keeping their eyes open.”
“Exactly. Put situations like these out there and people get nervous, they worry, which means they watch. What do you think?” He asked my mom.
“I think it's a good idea. Who knows, maybe someone saw something only they didn't think it was important. Cameron?”
“I don't think it's going to help. It's been over a month,” I answered honestly.
“Son-” Dad starts.
“No, he's right to be frustrated.” Tobias put a hand up to stop Dad. “Cameron, on the whole, people don't know Melanie is missing. Once they know—”
“What?” I interrupted him. “Everyone knows! You should see the looks I get.” Mom tapped my knee, but I ignored her. “They're never-ending, the oh, poor Cameron, he was left at the altar. Or the I wonder what he did to make her run off. Everyone in Whispering Pines knows.”
Michael puts a hand on my shoulder. “It's okay, bro. This will help find her. Sheriff, I'm increasing my reward to two hundred thousand. Maybe that will shake something loose. Don't worry, Cam, dead or alive, we'll get answers.”
I feel Mom flinch beside me at the word “dead.” But maybe Michael's right. Maybe that's all we can hope for now - answers, whatever they might be.
“Michael, that's a lot of money.” Dad turns in his seat so he can face him. “You sure? Maybe the hundred thousand is plenty?”
“Sheriff,” Michael asked, “increasing the amount would help, right?”
“Sure,” Tobias tilted his head, “that's the sort of money that opens people's eyes and makes them remember things.”
“Then I'll raise it. And I'll throw in fifty thousand for each of the other two women. I'll call the bank and have it put into an account as soon as we're done.”
“Michael,” Mom's voice cracked as she spoke. “That's very generous.” Tobias and Dad agreed.
I'm numb. I can't get past the dead comment. Are we now actually looking for a dead person?
“Cameron,” the Sheriff drew my attention. “Try to keep faith. Sometimes these cases break when we least expect it.”
“Sure,” is all I can manage.
While Mom, Dad, and Tobias work out the details of the press conference, I stepped next to Michael, who was on his phone, standing facing the wall. When he was done, and the money had been transferred, he turned around. I engulfed him in a bear hug.
“Thank you, thank you for everything. I love you, man.”
Michael, who doesn't normally show affection, returned the hug. “I love you too, bro. Remember, I'm always here for you.”
Hours later
Michael
“You've got to be more careful.” I set my whiskey glass on the desk. “The fucking Sheriff said the sites were a mess. He knew there'd been a struggle.”
“Who knew a damn librarian was a fucking kick boxer?” His voice defensively declared. “You should have seen the fucking upper cut she hit Smithy with. Cold cocked the shit out of him. It was fucking impressive.”
My mind begins to think of the set for her debut tomorrow night. “And what about the teacher? That one should have been easy.”
“Shit, even at gunpoint she came out of her car like a wild cat leaving a cage. Arms and legs flailing about, swearing like a sailor. Took all three of us to get her in the van. Fucking got me hard.”
“From now on, I don't want to give the Sheriff anything to go off. Nothing!” I swiveled my glass on its edge, the amber liquid coming dangerously close to the lip. “Tomorrow, there's going to be a press conference asking for help to find the women. I don't need some old lady remembering your ugly ass face from the fucking grocery store, so stock up on everything you need now. Then no one leaves there until I say. Got it?”
“Yes sir.”
“I'll call you later with the set up for tomorrow.” I hung up.
Taking my glass, I walked to the windows and gazed at the twinkling lights. “Fucking Melanie, all of this could have been easily avoided had you not gone rogue. Oh, you bad, bad, little bunny, I’m afraid you’ll have to learn a lesson.” I adjusted myself. “And oh, am I going to enjoy punishing you.”