Neverwood
Title: Neverwood, Part II
Author: frostian
Pairing: ja/jp, former ja/jdm
Rating: R for language and violence
Warning: Genuine horror here. I hope.
Word Count: ~51k
Summary: Aiden Thomas Padalecki is violently and mysteriously kidnapped, leaving behind distraught parents who have no idea why their only child was taken. After months of futile investigation, the frantic father witnesses the slow but inevitable decline in the search of his only child. Half mad with grief, Jared goes to an island off the coast of Washington, holding the last clue that may help him find his son. But it is all a trap, and there’s someone crouching, waiting for him to pay back for sins not of his making.
Notes: Adapted from Peter Pan, written for j2_everafter.
Disclaimer: 127.5% fiction.
Horror Unfolds for Local Author and Artist
The names Jared Padalecki and Sandra McCoy are well-known in the world of art and literature. Between them, they have produced seven three-dimensional (pop-up) books. These creations are internationally renown for their intricate plots and even more intricate paper engineering.
What isn't well known is the fact that the author and artist have a son from their brief and tumultuous marriage. This particular blind spot is due to their unwavering desire to protect their son from the inquisitive media. And they were successful until last night when immeasurable violence rendered their world apart and displayed to the world their hard-earned secret.
There are many conjectures flying about, sprung from the minds of the Perez Hiltons to the highest echelon of print, such as the New York Times. However, the following are the facts.
Both parents were present in the house when their son, Aiden, was taken. Alarmed by a sudden deafening noise, they rushed upstairs to discover their son's room in complete shambles. A confidential source described the bedroom as if an “earthquake had struck it."
But the truth was far worse. After an hour of cautiously combing through the debris, the horrified parents discovered their only child was not in the room. And, in fact, precious time may have been wasted while the emergency personnel labored under the mistaken idea that Aiden was still inside the house.
The authorities do not have any comments regarding the two-hour delay of the Amber Alert. And so far, they do not have any leads.
Ransoming has not been ruled out, as Jared Padalecki and Sandra McCoy are famous for their creations, the latest being the Humbold Poetry Collection, a children's book that might just be nominated for the Pulitzer, Newbery Medal, and the Caldecott Medal. The FBI has been brought in to aid the local police, though at what capacity has not been revealed. Detective Singer, the veteran officer who was involved with the bank robbing spree throughout the greater San Francisco area in the summer 1998, had very little to say. He did however state that the authorities are looking at this as a stranger abduction.
Sandy sat in the interrogation room with a neat ponytail and a clean face but without a lawyer. All of which earned Detective Singer’s respect. The twenty-two-year veteran knew how difficult it was for the mother to appear the day after her son had been kidnapped.
“So, how do you want to handle this?” Special Agent Adrianne Palicki asked, eyeing the woman with cool disinterest.
Singer knew better than to take offense at Palicki’s posture. He had meticulously built his defenses to deal with the shit life threw at him day after day. “Let’s rattle the tree and see what falls out.”
“You still think her ex had something to do with the kid’s disappearance?”
“Directly? No,” Singer answered. “But a man like Padalecki is bound to attract attention, including the worst kind.”
Palicki gave a nod of understanding before opening the door to the box. Sandy McCoy looked up from examining her hands. It was then Singer noticed the haunted look in the expressive brown eyes that dominated the face, making the woman look all of fourteen.
“Sorry to make you wait, Ms. McCoy,” Singer apologized as he sat down. "You must have a million things to do right about now."
“It’s all right,” Sandy responded weakly.
Palicki opened a folder and flipped through few pages. “Do you mind?”
Sandy shook her head as an answer.
“I’m sorry, but you have to verbally respond. We’re taping this interview,” Singer said, pointing at the one-way viewing glass that dominated the wall to the left of him.
“Oh, no, I don’t mind.” Sandy looked at the glass but it was only a cursory glance.
“We know you gave your statement last night,” Palicki stated in a firm tone. “But we were wondering if you had anything to add since then. If there’s anything else you remembered? Maybe forgot or didn’t think about then?”
“No, none,” Sandy whispered. “Me and Buddy, we live quiet lives. We know our neighbors just barely since we moved to the house only last summer. And Aiden’s bright but he’s not a standout like some of the other kids in his class.”
“Did he mention anything out of ordinary? Maybe a stranger approaching him at school or somewhere else?”
Sandy shook her head firmly. “No, and I’ve been over that with Buddy. He doesn’t remember Aiden talking about anything like that, ever.”
“Anything? Even the most minute thing may have some importance,” Palicki said, her tone probing but not enough to raise hostility from the mother.
Sandy paused for a moment, and that was enough for Singer to add, “Please. Trust us - there’s nothing too strange in our books.”
“About two-three months ago?” Sandy began hesitantly. “Aiden started talking about an imaginary friend named Tommy K.”
Palicki’s gaze sharpened considerably. “Tommy K? No last name?”
“No, and he usually called this friend T. K. because he knew…”
“Knew what?” Singer goaded. “Please, anything.”
“Just that Jared has this irrational dislike for the name Tommy,” Sandy explained wearily. “It’s been like that since he was a kid from what his folks told me. So, around Jared, Aiden would call his friend T.K.”
“Your ex doesn’t like the name Tommy?” Singer asked with only a hint of humor in his voice. It was enough for the mother to relax and smile.
“I know, I know. I used to tease Jared about it but he really doesn’t like the name Tommy. So much that he wouldn’t … date a guy with that name after we got divorced.”
“That’s rather strange,” Palicki said. “But then I hate ice cream, so I guess we all have quirks.”
“I hate the color blue,” Sandy said in confidence. “But, like you said, we’ve got our quirks and the name Tommy was Jared’s.”
“Can you remember exactly when Aiden started talking about this friend?” Singer asked.
“It was … about a month after Jared won that award, so maybe January? Yes, end of January because Aiden made a Valentine’s heart for T.K. in class. I thought it was cute.”
“Do you know what he did with it?” Singer asked.
Sandy sat back in her chair and thought hard. “No, I don’t, actually. I figured he either threw it away or it got lost in his stuff.”
“I know this is hard, but do we have permission to search your house?” Singer asked.
“You can set my house on fire,” Sandy replied with a hitch in her voice, “as long as you bring back Aiden safe.”
That was all the mother was able to speak as tears fell uncontrollably and splashed onto the table. It didn’t surprise Singer at all that it was Agent Palicki who reached out and held onto grieving woman’s hands with strength.
Singer watched as Sandy’s husband held onto his wife in their tiny backyard. The woman was sitting on the man’s lap, weeping openly as he gently rocked her back and forth like a father would do for an upset child.
“Jesus, this is hard,” Singer whispered.
“It’s only going to get harder,” Palicki answered.
“Did you find anything?”
“No, but this Tommy K’s name cropped up twice,” Palicki said. “Aiden's teacher, Mrs. Hannigan, said she knew about the imaginary friend, but kids that age create such things and usually forget about them when they start forming real friendships.”
“So, she didn’t think she had cause to worry.”
Palicki shook her head. “None, but here’s the interesting thing: we didn’t find the valentine's day card. Hannigan remembers him making one but it wasn’t at the school or his room.”
“So he either tossed it,” Singer looked sharply at his temporary partner, “or he gave it.”
“To Tommy K. who might not be so imaginary as Aiden’s parents thought he might be,” Palicki concluded. “I’m going to have his things dusted for fingerprints.”
“Let me tell the parents first,” Singer said. “I won’t tell them about our suspicions. The last thing they need to feel is that they failed as parents.”
Palicki looked at the parents sitting on the plastic swing. “I think it’s too late for that.”
Buddy knew it was senseless and not a little mean, but he felt better when he saw Palicki and Singer get into an unmarked police car pull away from the parking spot in front the house. He heard Sandy shuffle in the small galley kitchen and went to find her.
In the state his wife was in, there was a good chance that she’d blow up the microwave without meaning to.
“Let me do that,” he said as he took the mug from her hands. “Just sit down. I’ll make tea.”
Sandy nodded blankly and sat on the stool with her hands primly resting on her lap.
Suddenly Buddy had a horrible vision of some lunatic telling his wife to cut her throat, and then having Sandy do it because all her circuits had been blown with the taking of their son.
Oh, but that’s not true, his mind nudged him viciously. You ain’t seen nothing yet, Buddy boy. Wait until they find Aiden’s body tossed in some dumpster with his underwear wrapped around his throat.
Then you’re really gonna see some fireworks from your wife.
Buddy bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood. Shoving the horrible, ugly voice into a corner, he forced himself to make tea not only for Sandy but also for himself.
“Did you get a chance to talk to Jared?” he asked, handing over a mug.
“Chad answered,” Sandy said as she took a sip, not even noticing how hot the tea was.
“What? He was too busy to answer his own goddamn phone?” Buddy snapped. He never liked Jared and he knew the feeling was mutual, but for the sake of Sandy and Aiden, they had kept things cordial. But now, all that shallow ‘how are you?’ and ‘did you see what the Cowboys did yesterday?’ tasted poisonous.
“No, they … they had to sedate him,” Sandy whispered.
“What happened?”
“Jared lost it … and he got violent.”
Buddy imagined all two-hundred twenty pounds of Padalecki spinning out of control. “Holy shit. Is everyone okay?”
“He just trashed his office,” Sandy answered. “But it took four men to take him down. There was a medic in the house and I guess he must have given Jared some kind of a tranquilizer. Chad said he was going to be out at least until five, maybe even later.”
Buddy’s annoyance at Jared resurfaced. Fine time for the father of the missing son to toss his cookies, leaving Sandy behind to sweep up the fucking mess. But then, that was his usual m.o. and why, in spite of the fact Sandy loved him, she agreed to the divorce.
Jared had believed that Sandy was clueless about his desire to end their marriage, but the truth was she knew what was around the corner and was actually in the process looking for an attorney when Jared had told her their marriage wasn't working.
He shouldered the blame, of course. He was selfish enough to want a family without realizing what it meant to actually be a family man; that he’d dragged Sandy into an unhealthy marriage just because he wanted to play dad to their son. Then there was the ugliest truth of all: that Jared was just not mature enough to be both father and husband.
But the real truth was the fact that Jared didn’t want a woman in his bed, Buddy thought sourly. Oh sure, he makes a big show of chasing women but the ones that always caught his eye? All men. And the fuck-up still won’t admit to that fact. Even when all his friends could see the truth, plain as day.
Buddy closed his eyes as he cut himself off from any more uncharitable thoughts. The truth was Jared's shadow stretched long and wide, and Buddy didn't know if he could ever eclipse what the man had meant to Sandy. Not that it mattered most of the time: for he loved his wife so dearly he was able to temper down his jealousies without any problem.
But no longer. Not when everything was so raw and exposed to everyone's probing eyes. He studied Sandy looking so small and lost. Without a word, he took the mug from her hands and carried her upstairs to their bed where he held her until she stopped crying and fell asleep.
Then, for the first time since he'd witnessed his mother's accident, Buddy found himself praying. For what, he wasn't sure, but he prayed until the sun's diminishing rays faded into the city's artificial, cloying lights.
Jared stumbled down the stairs with all the grace of a newborn lamb. He saw Chad talking with Tom Welling and wondered if he should just go back upstairs and pretend nothing had happened.
Suck it up, Jared berated himself. About time you manned up and do something useful instead of acting like a fucking brat.
Chad spotted him first. “You awake already? The meds weren’t suppose to wear off for another three hours.”
Jared shrugged. “I’m a big guy.”
Tom stood up and said, “I called your folks. They’re flying back tonight. They said they’ll be here by six tomorrow.”
“We’ll pick them up from the airport so don’t worry about it,” Chad added.
Jared forcefully swallowed the large lump that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. “Thanks, and I’m sorry about earlier.”
“Don’t apologize to me,” Chad said. “It’s your office.”
Tom looked at Chad with what could only be described as a death glare before softening his gaze for Jared. “Just focus on getting your head straight, okay? The last thing Aiden needs is a father more hysterical than he is when he gets back.”
Jared closed his eyes and forced back the tears. “Yeah, I know.”
Tom pulled out a thermos. “This is from Mike at Wild Boys.”
Jared grinned weakly and took the offering. “I’m scared to think about what the bartender from the most notorious gay bar cooked up for me.”
“Hot chocolate,” Tom answered, “and I tasted it, too. No alcohol. The guy makes one mean hot chocolate.”
“Really?” Jared poured himself a cup and was surprised to note the perfect balance of sweetness and warmth in the drink. “Wow, who knew Mike had such hidden depths?” He took another sip and added, “Tell him thanks for me, will you?”
“Sure thing,” Tom said. “I also picked up dinner for you and Chad. I figure your appetite’s been shot to hell, but you’re going to need something to keep up your strength.”
Jared looked at the stack of Styrofoam containers but didn’t have a whit of desire to open the lids. They could’ve been filled with chef's choice from Sushi Yasuda and his appetite would’ve still been MIA. “Thanks,” he said, grateful for Tom’s generous thoughts.
“It’s mixed rice bowl from a Korean takeout joint down the block from my place,” Tom explained. “I figured either you’d be starving to death or be completely uninterested in food. So, I got something spicy and filling but without any of the fried shit you and Chad love so much.”
“Not all of us have to watch our weight,” Chad said with a grin.
Tom quirked an eyebrow at his friend then looked at Jared. “Call me if you need anything.”
Jared thumped his friend on the back. “I will.”
Tom left without another word of sympathy. His taciturn nature was at complete odds with his job, a dichotomy that Jared would find fascinating under normal circumstances, for the most popular blogger in San Francisco had just sold the copyright to his 2008 blogs to Focus Pictures in order for the company to turn Tom’s words into a movie.
And yet, when you met Tom, he’d hardly say more than a sentence or two, and that would be on a good day. Of course, his natural talent lay in observation: a lucky pairing to his day job. Unfortunately, Tom was also endowed with the looks of a god. Just his presence in a restaurant guaranteed a buzz, and add to that the unmitigated success of his blog, Tom was guaranteed to be a one-man firestorm wherever he went.
Jared opened a container to find a spicy blend of vegetables, rice, and a red condiment that looked like it would guarantee to punch a hole in his stomach.
“Leave to Tom to find food that’s spicier than his love life,” Chad said without a trace of humor.
In spite of his emotional state, Jared managed a wan smile. “It’d be rude if we let all this food go to waste.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Chad said.
With that Jared pulled out two large bowls. He dumped the contents in one container into the bowl and mixed it. Chad did the same, and they dug in with hearty appetite.
“Okay,” Chad said after getting beer from the fridge. “The food’s not too bad.”
Jared nodded, his mouth full of rice, cooked spinach, bean sprouts and other vegetables he couldn’t readily identify. It took him less than ten minutes to polish off everything and down a beer. He could usually handle two without problem, but he didn’t want alcohol to have any effect, especially not after what he’d done to his office, the two cops who were in his house, the medic, and Chad.
“Jesus,” Jared whispered, suddenly remembering how violent he’d been only few hours earlier. He looked at Chad, really looked and noticed how high Chad’s collars were pulled up. Without warning, Jared folded down the white cloth and spotted a dark bruise. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I forgot…”
Chad yanked himself away. “Dude, you were hysterical. I sincerely doubt you could’ve spelled your own name.”
“What set me off?” Jared asked, panicking into a free fall. “I can’t remember!”
“They were trying to find a picture of Aiden that you talked about. His school photograph? It wasn’t where you’d say it would be. So, they went searching…”
“And I saw them. I went berserk because I thought … I don’t remember what I’d thought actually.”
“No kidding,” Chad said. “Don’t worry about it. Nobody’s blaming you.”
“Are the police going to press charges?”
“No,” Chad was firm in his answer. “They understood what you were going through. One of them has kids of her own, and the other just became a granddad. So, don’t worry. Okay?”
“Mr. Padalecki?” a pretty woman asked as she appeared in the doorway. “I am Special Agent Adrianne Palicki. My partner and I want to speak to you about your son.”
“Of course,” Jared said. “Please sit down. And I’m sorry I wasn’t able to speak to you earlier.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Palicki said serenely. She turned to look at the man standing behind her. “This is Detective Singer. I believe you two have met already?”
Singer appeared, looking rumpled and disreputable besides his partner in her crisp black suit and thin leather briefcase. “Feeling better?” he asked.
“I am, now that I have some food in my stomach,” Jared answered.
“Could you speak with us then?” Palicki asked. “Do you want a lawyer present?”
Chad looked up at her with alarm and concern. “Does he need one?”
“No, but protocol demands that we ask,” Singer answered.
“I don’t want to delay you guys any longer,” Jared answered. “Ask away.”
“Do you know your son’s friend Tommy K.?” Palicki asked.
Jared frowned. “Tommy K.? No, I don’t think so.”
“He means T.K.,” Chad explained.
Jared looked at his friend with wide eyes. “You mean his imaginary friend?”
Chad nodded. “Aiden knows how much you hate the name Tommy so he called him T.K. around you.”
“I don’t hate that name,” Jared protested. He then realized he had an audience. “It’s something my brother teased me as a kid,” he explained. “And I never really got over it, I guess. I can't really remember.”
“So you don’t know how this Tommy K. came into your son’s life?” Singer asked.
Jared cradled his head with his hands and concentrated. “He said … he said T.K. came to him in dreams. When he had nightmares. He said that T.K. drove away the bad dreams and led him … led him underground.”
“And this didn’t concern you?” Singer asked.
“No, Aiden’s nightmares were pretty regular once he started first grade,” Jared explained. “And the underground part didn’t concern me because I started reading Peter Pan to him."
Palicki looked at the father. “I don’t quite understand the reference.”
“The Lost Boys of Neverland,” Singer said. “They lived underground, in Neverwood.”
Palicki frowned but said nothing. “I see. So you thought he was taking refuge in the book?”
Jared nodded. “He loved the idea, you see. Especially flying. He also adored the idea of dreaming up life as it could be in Neverland.”
“Which is why you didn’t find T.K. threatening?” Palicki asked.
“I thought it was a phase he was going through,” Jared answered. He paused then looked at Chad who was staring thoughtfully at Singer and Palicki. Only then did he understand what Chad had known the moment the questioning began. He stumbled out of his stool. “Oh my God, you think this T.K. is real?”
Singer looked calmly at Jared and said, “Not really, but we have to be sure. Maybe this Tommy K. had been inspired by someone he’d met.”
Jared shook his head as he sat down again. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe I missed something like that. If he’s real … then that son of a bitch somehow met Aiden and knew how to keep him quiet. Jesus…”
“I know we’ve gotten most of your son’s possessions, but is there anything else we’re missing?” Singer asked.
“He left a notebook in my office,” Jared answered. “It’ll take me a while but I can find it.”
“As soon as you can,” Palicki said. “It might be nothing of great importance at first glance, but it may make all the difference.”
“I’ll be right back,” Jared said. He bolted out of the room on shaky legs, earning a look of alarm from Chad who then eyed Singer and Palicki with open hostility.
“You could’ve done that a lot better," he said.
“Agreed,” Singer confessed. “I didn’t think he had enough wits about him after everything.”
“You’d be wrong,” Chad grumbled. “I was never able to surprise Jared, no matter how hard I tried. It’s pretty fucking impossible to get one-up on the guy.”
“You’ve known him since Stanford, I believe?” Palicki asked, realizing she’d get better answers than Singer from the way he was eyeing her.
“Yep.” Chad answered, draining the last of his beer. “He was a smartass back then, but a full-blown genius now.”
“From his successes I have to agree,” Palicki said with a small smile.
Emboldened by Palicki’s friendliness, Chad babbled on. “The dude’s got this … filing mechanism inside his head. It’s like his brain’s this huge warehouse and everything and I mean everything that he’s ever seen is stored there. And the funny thing is half the time not even Jared knows how the cataloging system works.”
Palicki looked completely guiless as she asked, “Do you know of anyone who wants to harm him?”
“Look, Jared went a bit wild after he got divorced,” Chad explained. “And he’s pissed few people off with him playing around when his partners thought they had an exclusive thing going. But nobody would want to hurt Aiden, okay?
“That kid was great. He was … people recognized him as a person, and not just as an extension of his father. Can you understand that?”
Palicki nodded. “Definitely, so he was a bright, personable child?”
“Yeah, definitely, but he was also pretty damn shy. And the new school didn’t help. I know he missed his buddies at the kindergarten in St. Lucia’s. But he was making new ones when all this shit happened.”
“Can you tell us anything about Tommy K.? Something Aiden might not have told his father because he knew of his father’s prejudices?”
Chad shook his head slowly, his face thought as he recollected all he could about Aiden and his interesting companion. “No, nothing weird if you take the imaginary friend out of the equation.”
“Did he seem friendly with Tommy?” Palicki asked. “I know that’s a strange question to ask, but considering the circumstances…”
“Yeah, no, it’s not too weird, at least for me,” Chad said with a lopsided grin. “Considering what I do for a living, that is. No, Aiden never seemed to be afraid of T.K. as far as I can remember. In fact, he said that T.K. helped him out once. Something about a bully in the classroom.”
Palicki’s eyes brightened considerably. “Really? Did he do something?”
“No,” Chad puzzled over what the little boy had said to him. “Aiden said T.K. helped him get his … bearing was the word? Yeah, ‘bearing’ was what he said. I remembered because the word is pretty old-fashioned for a six-year-old to be using.”
“Anything else that seemed out of the ordinary?”
Chad nodded again. “Yeah, I do remember having a talk about T.K. with Aiden because it was kinda interesting … you know? To have an imaginary friend?” Chad blushed furiously when he caught Singer’s smirk. “I wasn’t making fun of the kid, but I was curious.”
“Don’t have to make excuses to me,” Singer said. “Kids are a mystery, and I’m a grandfather.”
Chad’s strained demeanor relaxed visibly. “They are, but that’s what’s so wonderful about them. Anyway, Aiden said T.K. lived inside the tiger statue.”
“What statue?” Palicki asked.
“The one in Jared’s office: it’s a present he got from one of his acquaintances after he won the Hurst Award. I think Aiden got a fancy for the thing, you know? It was pretty, if you’re interested.”
“Was?” Palicki asked. “What happened to it?”
“Jared,” Chad answered. “He trashed his office earlier. The guy just lost it.”
“Oh,” Palicki said. “Do you know who gave him the statue?”
“William J. Tuohy, the real estate developer and attorney,” Chad replied. “You probably know more about the guy than you’d want to.”
Palicki smiled again. Tuohy's face had been plastered all over San Francisco papers since his company bought a prime piece of real estate in Richmond District. “That would be affirmative. So…”
Jared entered the room with a small composition notebook in his hand. His son’s name was scrawled in the front in curiously neat and legible handwriting. “This was what I was talking about.”
Palicki took the notebook and said, “Thank you.”
“We’ll get going now, and let you get some rest.” Singer said. “I don’t know if you’ve seen your doctor yet, but if he gave something to help you sleep, you should take it. Trust me, you’re going to need all the rest you can get.”
“Thank you and I will,” Jared lied and badly at that. He saw the pitying looks from Chad but willed his friend to keep his mouth shut. “I’m not doing anybody any favor the way I am now anyway.”
Both Singer and Palicki possessed enough compassion not to call Jared on the bald-faced lie. Instead, they shook Jared’s and Chad’s hands before leaving.
“Dude, you have to get sleep and I mean real sleep,” Chad cautioned his friend. “Sandy must be going through hell right now.”
“She’s got Buddy, she doesn’t need me,” Jared muttered as he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Jesus, I was the one who insisted she drop him off. She wanted to keep him over Sunday night and have me pick him up after school.”
Chad firmly grasped his friend’s shoulders. “It’s not your fault, Jared. It isn’t.”
Jared sobbed and shook his head slowly, unable to formulate any kind of reply to his friend’s kind words. Realizing Jared was in no state to face the night by himself, and knowing the police officers had little desire to comfort a distraught father, Chad made calls necessary to arrange for his absence the next day.
His job might be a huge pain in the ass, and probably will give him an ulcer or two in the near future, but it also paid to be his own boss. Besides, he’d designed and built Good Hearts not to collapse around him after a day of his absence. And he was so wired to the dating service anyway, that if shit did hit the fan, he’d be able to sort out the mess no matter where he was.
There was also the little fact that during freshman year in Stanford, Jared saved Chad’s life. The two had no desire to pledge a fraternity and yet, within two weeks that was exactly what they’d ended up doing. While Jared ended up with a brother who was both sane and disinterested, Chad was unfortunate enough to be assigned to a sadist.
If Jared hadn’t intervened Chad would’ve certainly ended up in the hospital or its basement with a prominent toe tag as his only form of identification. So, he had little regret canceling his appointments and rescheduling what was necessary. After finishing his calls, Chad found Jared curled up in a sofa.
The giant was holding his son’s latest school picture. Worried that his friend might accidentally destroy the frame, Chad tried to take it only to find Jared had such a tight hold on the damn thing, Chad could barely wiggle it.
Jesus Christ, Chad thought as he sat on the armchair in front of Jared. He’s not reaching the breaking point - he’s sailed past it and on his way to crazy land.
For the first time Chad considered what would happen should Aiden never be found. The truth was even though he loved the kid, Chad knew his life would go on. He’d probably remember Aiden whenever he saw a small boy with a mop of brown hair blowing in the wind. He even admitted he would probably cry until he ran out of tears.
But his life would go on.
Not so if there was a sudden Jared-sized hole in his life. That absence would tear Chad’s life apart for Jared was not only an anchor for him, but, in a way, an absolution for the way Chad lived. The CEO knew his lifestyle could be charitably described as hedonistic, but that was what he’d always planned. For when he turned thirty-five, God willing, Chad was going to pack it all away: sell his company, cash in his chips and move to a place where the odds were good he’d never see any of his exes or risk meeting a woman who’d remind him of the many string of girlfriends he had been blessed and cursed with.
And the reason that he’d held on so long to this plan was quite simply: Jared. Chad knew his best friend had similar plans, but nobody except Chad knew Jared had went into it ass backwards. He should’ve sown his wild oats first. Instead, he hooked up with the first looker who had a decent heart and an IQ higher than his. And convinced himself that his wild oats didn’t need his attention.
Chad looked down at his distraught friend and shook his head. Aiden was the only thing that was good from the mess that was Jared’s private life, He knew that in spite of Jared’s skirt/trousers chasing ways, he would settle down one day. Or, at least, if not with one person, then slow down to keep his son's respect. But with no Aiden, Jared’s downward spiral would achieve mach speed, and in spite of his size, Jared would find trouble one day: the kind that would kill him.
Chad had never known what it meant to feel like wanting to murder someone. Until now. In spite of his short fuse, he was not a violent man, so the knowledge that he could actually comprehend and accept the desire to end a human life startled him a little.
What was even more upsetting was how negligible his surprise was.
Please God, Chad prayed. Please, for all our sakes, return Aiden to us.
Jared sat stiffly, eyes unfocused as if an anvil had slammed his head repeatedly. Sandy was doing marginally better as she answered a reporter’s question. Because of her diminutive size and the obvious distress, the media was extremely gentle with her. Even Jared was treated with kid gloves by the reporters who, in Singer’s experience, would’ve had little troubling grilling the man. Politely, of course, but put in the fire all the same since it was his house that Aiden was taken from.
“The press loves them,” Palicki whispered.
Singer smiled a little. “Good for us. The public sees sympathetic parents, they’re going to be on the lookout.”
“But how long will that last, I wonder?”
“Three weeks, four tops,” Singer answered. “Be grateful that they’re rich, white, and respected.”
“That sounds a little cynical,” Palicki said without heat.
“That’s me being hopeful,” Singer said. “It’s been seventy-two hours.”
Palicki looked serene but Singer noticed her grip on her briefcase tightened considerably. They were both sweating earlier in the evening, working against a clock that had no notion of kindness or leniency, just lethal efficiency. When the marker passed that magical number, Singer felt the entire team deflate, as if they saw the end and it wasn’t coming at them on soft wings.
And it was hard enough on Singer’s people already since they’ve been fielding numerous calls, all claiming to have information about the kidnapping. They had little choice but to investigate the ones who didn’t stand out as lunatics. And the amount of footwork that took tired even the veterans within a day. But Singer knew the real reason: nobody believed the boy was alive and none of them wanted to find his violated corpse.
Hell, I don’t want to find Aiden, Singer admitted to himself. He then heard Sandy’s tremulous voice and refocused on the mother.
Sandy answered another question before looking at Jared. The man shook his head a little, his deep voice slightly creaky from speaking too little the last few days.
“I don’t care about the damage to my house,” Jared said, looking worn down and so very lost. “I don’t care about the what or the why, and no - I’m not angry. I just want my boy back. That’s all I want.”
He closed his eyes as tears escaped. Sandy embraced him and looked at the field of reporters. “No more, please.”
Detective Wingate who was spear-heading the conference immediately stepped in. “This interview is over. Please read the information we’ve handed out, and we will contact you through e-mail if any new information is available.
“Thank you.”
Singer wasn’t surprised to find Jared and Sandy entwined tightly as they were led out of the room. He spotted Buddy waiting for them right outside, and found himself smiling when Sandy opened the embrace to include him. The three parents stood there, a tight huddle to protect them from everyone, even the detective who watched and guarded them.
Part I * Part III
Author: frostian
Pairing: ja/jp, former ja/jdm
Rating: R for language and violence
Warning: Genuine horror here. I hope.
Word Count: ~51k
Summary: Aiden Thomas Padalecki is violently and mysteriously kidnapped, leaving behind distraught parents who have no idea why their only child was taken. After months of futile investigation, the frantic father witnesses the slow but inevitable decline in the search of his only child. Half mad with grief, Jared goes to an island off the coast of Washington, holding the last clue that may help him find his son. But it is all a trap, and there’s someone crouching, waiting for him to pay back for sins not of his making.
Notes: Adapted from Peter Pan, written for j2_everafter.
Disclaimer: 127.5% fiction.
Horror Unfolds for Local Author and Artist
The names Jared Padalecki and Sandra McCoy are well-known in the world of art and literature. Between them, they have produced seven three-dimensional (pop-up) books. These creations are internationally renown for their intricate plots and even more intricate paper engineering.
What isn't well known is the fact that the author and artist have a son from their brief and tumultuous marriage. This particular blind spot is due to their unwavering desire to protect their son from the inquisitive media. And they were successful until last night when immeasurable violence rendered their world apart and displayed to the world their hard-earned secret.
There are many conjectures flying about, sprung from the minds of the Perez Hiltons to the highest echelon of print, such as the New York Times. However, the following are the facts.
Both parents were present in the house when their son, Aiden, was taken. Alarmed by a sudden deafening noise, they rushed upstairs to discover their son's room in complete shambles. A confidential source described the bedroom as if an “earthquake had struck it."
But the truth was far worse. After an hour of cautiously combing through the debris, the horrified parents discovered their only child was not in the room. And, in fact, precious time may have been wasted while the emergency personnel labored under the mistaken idea that Aiden was still inside the house.
The authorities do not have any comments regarding the two-hour delay of the Amber Alert. And so far, they do not have any leads.
Ransoming has not been ruled out, as Jared Padalecki and Sandra McCoy are famous for their creations, the latest being the Humbold Poetry Collection, a children's book that might just be nominated for the Pulitzer, Newbery Medal, and the Caldecott Medal. The FBI has been brought in to aid the local police, though at what capacity has not been revealed. Detective Singer, the veteran officer who was involved with the bank robbing spree throughout the greater San Francisco area in the summer 1998, had very little to say. He did however state that the authorities are looking at this as a stranger abduction.
Sandy sat in the interrogation room with a neat ponytail and a clean face but without a lawyer. All of which earned Detective Singer’s respect. The twenty-two-year veteran knew how difficult it was for the mother to appear the day after her son had been kidnapped.
“So, how do you want to handle this?” Special Agent Adrianne Palicki asked, eyeing the woman with cool disinterest.
Singer knew better than to take offense at Palicki’s posture. He had meticulously built his defenses to deal with the shit life threw at him day after day. “Let’s rattle the tree and see what falls out.”
“You still think her ex had something to do with the kid’s disappearance?”
“Directly? No,” Singer answered. “But a man like Padalecki is bound to attract attention, including the worst kind.”
Palicki gave a nod of understanding before opening the door to the box. Sandy McCoy looked up from examining her hands. It was then Singer noticed the haunted look in the expressive brown eyes that dominated the face, making the woman look all of fourteen.
“Sorry to make you wait, Ms. McCoy,” Singer apologized as he sat down. "You must have a million things to do right about now."
“It’s all right,” Sandy responded weakly.
Palicki opened a folder and flipped through few pages. “Do you mind?”
Sandy shook her head as an answer.
“I’m sorry, but you have to verbally respond. We’re taping this interview,” Singer said, pointing at the one-way viewing glass that dominated the wall to the left of him.
“Oh, no, I don’t mind.” Sandy looked at the glass but it was only a cursory glance.
“We know you gave your statement last night,” Palicki stated in a firm tone. “But we were wondering if you had anything to add since then. If there’s anything else you remembered? Maybe forgot or didn’t think about then?”
“No, none,” Sandy whispered. “Me and Buddy, we live quiet lives. We know our neighbors just barely since we moved to the house only last summer. And Aiden’s bright but he’s not a standout like some of the other kids in his class.”
“Did he mention anything out of ordinary? Maybe a stranger approaching him at school or somewhere else?”
Sandy shook her head firmly. “No, and I’ve been over that with Buddy. He doesn’t remember Aiden talking about anything like that, ever.”
“Anything? Even the most minute thing may have some importance,” Palicki said, her tone probing but not enough to raise hostility from the mother.
Sandy paused for a moment, and that was enough for Singer to add, “Please. Trust us - there’s nothing too strange in our books.”
“About two-three months ago?” Sandy began hesitantly. “Aiden started talking about an imaginary friend named Tommy K.”
Palicki’s gaze sharpened considerably. “Tommy K? No last name?”
“No, and he usually called this friend T. K. because he knew…”
“Knew what?” Singer goaded. “Please, anything.”
“Just that Jared has this irrational dislike for the name Tommy,” Sandy explained wearily. “It’s been like that since he was a kid from what his folks told me. So, around Jared, Aiden would call his friend T.K.”
“Your ex doesn’t like the name Tommy?” Singer asked with only a hint of humor in his voice. It was enough for the mother to relax and smile.
“I know, I know. I used to tease Jared about it but he really doesn’t like the name Tommy. So much that he wouldn’t … date a guy with that name after we got divorced.”
“That’s rather strange,” Palicki said. “But then I hate ice cream, so I guess we all have quirks.”
“I hate the color blue,” Sandy said in confidence. “But, like you said, we’ve got our quirks and the name Tommy was Jared’s.”
“Can you remember exactly when Aiden started talking about this friend?” Singer asked.
“It was … about a month after Jared won that award, so maybe January? Yes, end of January because Aiden made a Valentine’s heart for T.K. in class. I thought it was cute.”
“Do you know what he did with it?” Singer asked.
Sandy sat back in her chair and thought hard. “No, I don’t, actually. I figured he either threw it away or it got lost in his stuff.”
“I know this is hard, but do we have permission to search your house?” Singer asked.
“You can set my house on fire,” Sandy replied with a hitch in her voice, “as long as you bring back Aiden safe.”
That was all the mother was able to speak as tears fell uncontrollably and splashed onto the table. It didn’t surprise Singer at all that it was Agent Palicki who reached out and held onto grieving woman’s hands with strength.
Singer watched as Sandy’s husband held onto his wife in their tiny backyard. The woman was sitting on the man’s lap, weeping openly as he gently rocked her back and forth like a father would do for an upset child.
“Jesus, this is hard,” Singer whispered.
“It’s only going to get harder,” Palicki answered.
“Did you find anything?”
“No, but this Tommy K’s name cropped up twice,” Palicki said. “Aiden's teacher, Mrs. Hannigan, said she knew about the imaginary friend, but kids that age create such things and usually forget about them when they start forming real friendships.”
“So, she didn’t think she had cause to worry.”
Palicki shook her head. “None, but here’s the interesting thing: we didn’t find the valentine's day card. Hannigan remembers him making one but it wasn’t at the school or his room.”
“So he either tossed it,” Singer looked sharply at his temporary partner, “or he gave it.”
“To Tommy K. who might not be so imaginary as Aiden’s parents thought he might be,” Palicki concluded. “I’m going to have his things dusted for fingerprints.”
“Let me tell the parents first,” Singer said. “I won’t tell them about our suspicions. The last thing they need to feel is that they failed as parents.”
Palicki looked at the parents sitting on the plastic swing. “I think it’s too late for that.”
Buddy knew it was senseless and not a little mean, but he felt better when he saw Palicki and Singer get into an unmarked police car pull away from the parking spot in front the house. He heard Sandy shuffle in the small galley kitchen and went to find her.
In the state his wife was in, there was a good chance that she’d blow up the microwave without meaning to.
“Let me do that,” he said as he took the mug from her hands. “Just sit down. I’ll make tea.”
Sandy nodded blankly and sat on the stool with her hands primly resting on her lap.
Suddenly Buddy had a horrible vision of some lunatic telling his wife to cut her throat, and then having Sandy do it because all her circuits had been blown with the taking of their son.
Oh, but that’s not true, his mind nudged him viciously. You ain’t seen nothing yet, Buddy boy. Wait until they find Aiden’s body tossed in some dumpster with his underwear wrapped around his throat.
Then you’re really gonna see some fireworks from your wife.
Buddy bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood. Shoving the horrible, ugly voice into a corner, he forced himself to make tea not only for Sandy but also for himself.
“Did you get a chance to talk to Jared?” he asked, handing over a mug.
“Chad answered,” Sandy said as she took a sip, not even noticing how hot the tea was.
“What? He was too busy to answer his own goddamn phone?” Buddy snapped. He never liked Jared and he knew the feeling was mutual, but for the sake of Sandy and Aiden, they had kept things cordial. But now, all that shallow ‘how are you?’ and ‘did you see what the Cowboys did yesterday?’ tasted poisonous.
“No, they … they had to sedate him,” Sandy whispered.
“What happened?”
“Jared lost it … and he got violent.”
Buddy imagined all two-hundred twenty pounds of Padalecki spinning out of control. “Holy shit. Is everyone okay?”
“He just trashed his office,” Sandy answered. “But it took four men to take him down. There was a medic in the house and I guess he must have given Jared some kind of a tranquilizer. Chad said he was going to be out at least until five, maybe even later.”
Buddy’s annoyance at Jared resurfaced. Fine time for the father of the missing son to toss his cookies, leaving Sandy behind to sweep up the fucking mess. But then, that was his usual m.o. and why, in spite of the fact Sandy loved him, she agreed to the divorce.
Jared had believed that Sandy was clueless about his desire to end their marriage, but the truth was she knew what was around the corner and was actually in the process looking for an attorney when Jared had told her their marriage wasn't working.
He shouldered the blame, of course. He was selfish enough to want a family without realizing what it meant to actually be a family man; that he’d dragged Sandy into an unhealthy marriage just because he wanted to play dad to their son. Then there was the ugliest truth of all: that Jared was just not mature enough to be both father and husband.
But the real truth was the fact that Jared didn’t want a woman in his bed, Buddy thought sourly. Oh sure, he makes a big show of chasing women but the ones that always caught his eye? All men. And the fuck-up still won’t admit to that fact. Even when all his friends could see the truth, plain as day.
Buddy closed his eyes as he cut himself off from any more uncharitable thoughts. The truth was Jared's shadow stretched long and wide, and Buddy didn't know if he could ever eclipse what the man had meant to Sandy. Not that it mattered most of the time: for he loved his wife so dearly he was able to temper down his jealousies without any problem.
But no longer. Not when everything was so raw and exposed to everyone's probing eyes. He studied Sandy looking so small and lost. Without a word, he took the mug from her hands and carried her upstairs to their bed where he held her until she stopped crying and fell asleep.
Then, for the first time since he'd witnessed his mother's accident, Buddy found himself praying. For what, he wasn't sure, but he prayed until the sun's diminishing rays faded into the city's artificial, cloying lights.
Jared stumbled down the stairs with all the grace of a newborn lamb. He saw Chad talking with Tom Welling and wondered if he should just go back upstairs and pretend nothing had happened.
Suck it up, Jared berated himself. About time you manned up and do something useful instead of acting like a fucking brat.
Chad spotted him first. “You awake already? The meds weren’t suppose to wear off for another three hours.”
Jared shrugged. “I’m a big guy.”
Tom stood up and said, “I called your folks. They’re flying back tonight. They said they’ll be here by six tomorrow.”
“We’ll pick them up from the airport so don’t worry about it,” Chad added.
Jared forcefully swallowed the large lump that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. “Thanks, and I’m sorry about earlier.”
“Don’t apologize to me,” Chad said. “It’s your office.”
Tom looked at Chad with what could only be described as a death glare before softening his gaze for Jared. “Just focus on getting your head straight, okay? The last thing Aiden needs is a father more hysterical than he is when he gets back.”
Jared closed his eyes and forced back the tears. “Yeah, I know.”
Tom pulled out a thermos. “This is from Mike at Wild Boys.”
Jared grinned weakly and took the offering. “I’m scared to think about what the bartender from the most notorious gay bar cooked up for me.”
“Hot chocolate,” Tom answered, “and I tasted it, too. No alcohol. The guy makes one mean hot chocolate.”
“Really?” Jared poured himself a cup and was surprised to note the perfect balance of sweetness and warmth in the drink. “Wow, who knew Mike had such hidden depths?” He took another sip and added, “Tell him thanks for me, will you?”
“Sure thing,” Tom said. “I also picked up dinner for you and Chad. I figure your appetite’s been shot to hell, but you’re going to need something to keep up your strength.”
Jared looked at the stack of Styrofoam containers but didn’t have a whit of desire to open the lids. They could’ve been filled with chef's choice from Sushi Yasuda and his appetite would’ve still been MIA. “Thanks,” he said, grateful for Tom’s generous thoughts.
“It’s mixed rice bowl from a Korean takeout joint down the block from my place,” Tom explained. “I figured either you’d be starving to death or be completely uninterested in food. So, I got something spicy and filling but without any of the fried shit you and Chad love so much.”
“Not all of us have to watch our weight,” Chad said with a grin.
Tom quirked an eyebrow at his friend then looked at Jared. “Call me if you need anything.”
Jared thumped his friend on the back. “I will.”
Tom left without another word of sympathy. His taciturn nature was at complete odds with his job, a dichotomy that Jared would find fascinating under normal circumstances, for the most popular blogger in San Francisco had just sold the copyright to his 2008 blogs to Focus Pictures in order for the company to turn Tom’s words into a movie.
And yet, when you met Tom, he’d hardly say more than a sentence or two, and that would be on a good day. Of course, his natural talent lay in observation: a lucky pairing to his day job. Unfortunately, Tom was also endowed with the looks of a god. Just his presence in a restaurant guaranteed a buzz, and add to that the unmitigated success of his blog, Tom was guaranteed to be a one-man firestorm wherever he went.
Jared opened a container to find a spicy blend of vegetables, rice, and a red condiment that looked like it would guarantee to punch a hole in his stomach.
“Leave to Tom to find food that’s spicier than his love life,” Chad said without a trace of humor.
In spite of his emotional state, Jared managed a wan smile. “It’d be rude if we let all this food go to waste.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Chad said.
With that Jared pulled out two large bowls. He dumped the contents in one container into the bowl and mixed it. Chad did the same, and they dug in with hearty appetite.
“Okay,” Chad said after getting beer from the fridge. “The food’s not too bad.”
Jared nodded, his mouth full of rice, cooked spinach, bean sprouts and other vegetables he couldn’t readily identify. It took him less than ten minutes to polish off everything and down a beer. He could usually handle two without problem, but he didn’t want alcohol to have any effect, especially not after what he’d done to his office, the two cops who were in his house, the medic, and Chad.
“Jesus,” Jared whispered, suddenly remembering how violent he’d been only few hours earlier. He looked at Chad, really looked and noticed how high Chad’s collars were pulled up. Without warning, Jared folded down the white cloth and spotted a dark bruise. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I forgot…”
Chad yanked himself away. “Dude, you were hysterical. I sincerely doubt you could’ve spelled your own name.”
“What set me off?” Jared asked, panicking into a free fall. “I can’t remember!”
“They were trying to find a picture of Aiden that you talked about. His school photograph? It wasn’t where you’d say it would be. So, they went searching…”
“And I saw them. I went berserk because I thought … I don’t remember what I’d thought actually.”
“No kidding,” Chad said. “Don’t worry about it. Nobody’s blaming you.”
“Are the police going to press charges?”
“No,” Chad was firm in his answer. “They understood what you were going through. One of them has kids of her own, and the other just became a granddad. So, don’t worry. Okay?”
“Mr. Padalecki?” a pretty woman asked as she appeared in the doorway. “I am Special Agent Adrianne Palicki. My partner and I want to speak to you about your son.”
“Of course,” Jared said. “Please sit down. And I’m sorry I wasn’t able to speak to you earlier.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Palicki said serenely. She turned to look at the man standing behind her. “This is Detective Singer. I believe you two have met already?”
Singer appeared, looking rumpled and disreputable besides his partner in her crisp black suit and thin leather briefcase. “Feeling better?” he asked.
“I am, now that I have some food in my stomach,” Jared answered.
“Could you speak with us then?” Palicki asked. “Do you want a lawyer present?”
Chad looked up at her with alarm and concern. “Does he need one?”
“No, but protocol demands that we ask,” Singer answered.
“I don’t want to delay you guys any longer,” Jared answered. “Ask away.”
“Do you know your son’s friend Tommy K.?” Palicki asked.
Jared frowned. “Tommy K.? No, I don’t think so.”
“He means T.K.,” Chad explained.
Jared looked at his friend with wide eyes. “You mean his imaginary friend?”
Chad nodded. “Aiden knows how much you hate the name Tommy so he called him T.K. around you.”
“I don’t hate that name,” Jared protested. He then realized he had an audience. “It’s something my brother teased me as a kid,” he explained. “And I never really got over it, I guess. I can't really remember.”
“So you don’t know how this Tommy K. came into your son’s life?” Singer asked.
Jared cradled his head with his hands and concentrated. “He said … he said T.K. came to him in dreams. When he had nightmares. He said that T.K. drove away the bad dreams and led him … led him underground.”
“And this didn’t concern you?” Singer asked.
“No, Aiden’s nightmares were pretty regular once he started first grade,” Jared explained. “And the underground part didn’t concern me because I started reading Peter Pan to him."
Palicki looked at the father. “I don’t quite understand the reference.”
“The Lost Boys of Neverland,” Singer said. “They lived underground, in Neverwood.”
Palicki frowned but said nothing. “I see. So you thought he was taking refuge in the book?”
Jared nodded. “He loved the idea, you see. Especially flying. He also adored the idea of dreaming up life as it could be in Neverland.”
“Which is why you didn’t find T.K. threatening?” Palicki asked.
“I thought it was a phase he was going through,” Jared answered. He paused then looked at Chad who was staring thoughtfully at Singer and Palicki. Only then did he understand what Chad had known the moment the questioning began. He stumbled out of his stool. “Oh my God, you think this T.K. is real?”
Singer looked calmly at Jared and said, “Not really, but we have to be sure. Maybe this Tommy K. had been inspired by someone he’d met.”
Jared shook his head as he sat down again. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe I missed something like that. If he’s real … then that son of a bitch somehow met Aiden and knew how to keep him quiet. Jesus…”
“I know we’ve gotten most of your son’s possessions, but is there anything else we’re missing?” Singer asked.
“He left a notebook in my office,” Jared answered. “It’ll take me a while but I can find it.”
“As soon as you can,” Palicki said. “It might be nothing of great importance at first glance, but it may make all the difference.”
“I’ll be right back,” Jared said. He bolted out of the room on shaky legs, earning a look of alarm from Chad who then eyed Singer and Palicki with open hostility.
“You could’ve done that a lot better," he said.
“Agreed,” Singer confessed. “I didn’t think he had enough wits about him after everything.”
“You’d be wrong,” Chad grumbled. “I was never able to surprise Jared, no matter how hard I tried. It’s pretty fucking impossible to get one-up on the guy.”
“You’ve known him since Stanford, I believe?” Palicki asked, realizing she’d get better answers than Singer from the way he was eyeing her.
“Yep.” Chad answered, draining the last of his beer. “He was a smartass back then, but a full-blown genius now.”
“From his successes I have to agree,” Palicki said with a small smile.
Emboldened by Palicki’s friendliness, Chad babbled on. “The dude’s got this … filing mechanism inside his head. It’s like his brain’s this huge warehouse and everything and I mean everything that he’s ever seen is stored there. And the funny thing is half the time not even Jared knows how the cataloging system works.”
Palicki looked completely guiless as she asked, “Do you know of anyone who wants to harm him?”
“Look, Jared went a bit wild after he got divorced,” Chad explained. “And he’s pissed few people off with him playing around when his partners thought they had an exclusive thing going. But nobody would want to hurt Aiden, okay?
“That kid was great. He was … people recognized him as a person, and not just as an extension of his father. Can you understand that?”
Palicki nodded. “Definitely, so he was a bright, personable child?”
“Yeah, definitely, but he was also pretty damn shy. And the new school didn’t help. I know he missed his buddies at the kindergarten in St. Lucia’s. But he was making new ones when all this shit happened.”
“Can you tell us anything about Tommy K.? Something Aiden might not have told his father because he knew of his father’s prejudices?”
Chad shook his head slowly, his face thought as he recollected all he could about Aiden and his interesting companion. “No, nothing weird if you take the imaginary friend out of the equation.”
“Did he seem friendly with Tommy?” Palicki asked. “I know that’s a strange question to ask, but considering the circumstances…”
“Yeah, no, it’s not too weird, at least for me,” Chad said with a lopsided grin. “Considering what I do for a living, that is. No, Aiden never seemed to be afraid of T.K. as far as I can remember. In fact, he said that T.K. helped him out once. Something about a bully in the classroom.”
Palicki’s eyes brightened considerably. “Really? Did he do something?”
“No,” Chad puzzled over what the little boy had said to him. “Aiden said T.K. helped him get his … bearing was the word? Yeah, ‘bearing’ was what he said. I remembered because the word is pretty old-fashioned for a six-year-old to be using.”
“Anything else that seemed out of the ordinary?”
Chad nodded again. “Yeah, I do remember having a talk about T.K. with Aiden because it was kinda interesting … you know? To have an imaginary friend?” Chad blushed furiously when he caught Singer’s smirk. “I wasn’t making fun of the kid, but I was curious.”
“Don’t have to make excuses to me,” Singer said. “Kids are a mystery, and I’m a grandfather.”
Chad’s strained demeanor relaxed visibly. “They are, but that’s what’s so wonderful about them. Anyway, Aiden said T.K. lived inside the tiger statue.”
“What statue?” Palicki asked.
“The one in Jared’s office: it’s a present he got from one of his acquaintances after he won the Hurst Award. I think Aiden got a fancy for the thing, you know? It was pretty, if you’re interested.”
“Was?” Palicki asked. “What happened to it?”
“Jared,” Chad answered. “He trashed his office earlier. The guy just lost it.”
“Oh,” Palicki said. “Do you know who gave him the statue?”
“William J. Tuohy, the real estate developer and attorney,” Chad replied. “You probably know more about the guy than you’d want to.”
Palicki smiled again. Tuohy's face had been plastered all over San Francisco papers since his company bought a prime piece of real estate in Richmond District. “That would be affirmative. So…”
Jared entered the room with a small composition notebook in his hand. His son’s name was scrawled in the front in curiously neat and legible handwriting. “This was what I was talking about.”
Palicki took the notebook and said, “Thank you.”
“We’ll get going now, and let you get some rest.” Singer said. “I don’t know if you’ve seen your doctor yet, but if he gave something to help you sleep, you should take it. Trust me, you’re going to need all the rest you can get.”
“Thank you and I will,” Jared lied and badly at that. He saw the pitying looks from Chad but willed his friend to keep his mouth shut. “I’m not doing anybody any favor the way I am now anyway.”
Both Singer and Palicki possessed enough compassion not to call Jared on the bald-faced lie. Instead, they shook Jared’s and Chad’s hands before leaving.
“Dude, you have to get sleep and I mean real sleep,” Chad cautioned his friend. “Sandy must be going through hell right now.”
“She’s got Buddy, she doesn’t need me,” Jared muttered as he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Jesus, I was the one who insisted she drop him off. She wanted to keep him over Sunday night and have me pick him up after school.”
Chad firmly grasped his friend’s shoulders. “It’s not your fault, Jared. It isn’t.”
Jared sobbed and shook his head slowly, unable to formulate any kind of reply to his friend’s kind words. Realizing Jared was in no state to face the night by himself, and knowing the police officers had little desire to comfort a distraught father, Chad made calls necessary to arrange for his absence the next day.
His job might be a huge pain in the ass, and probably will give him an ulcer or two in the near future, but it also paid to be his own boss. Besides, he’d designed and built Good Hearts not to collapse around him after a day of his absence. And he was so wired to the dating service anyway, that if shit did hit the fan, he’d be able to sort out the mess no matter where he was.
There was also the little fact that during freshman year in Stanford, Jared saved Chad’s life. The two had no desire to pledge a fraternity and yet, within two weeks that was exactly what they’d ended up doing. While Jared ended up with a brother who was both sane and disinterested, Chad was unfortunate enough to be assigned to a sadist.
If Jared hadn’t intervened Chad would’ve certainly ended up in the hospital or its basement with a prominent toe tag as his only form of identification. So, he had little regret canceling his appointments and rescheduling what was necessary. After finishing his calls, Chad found Jared curled up in a sofa.
The giant was holding his son’s latest school picture. Worried that his friend might accidentally destroy the frame, Chad tried to take it only to find Jared had such a tight hold on the damn thing, Chad could barely wiggle it.
Jesus Christ, Chad thought as he sat on the armchair in front of Jared. He’s not reaching the breaking point - he’s sailed past it and on his way to crazy land.
For the first time Chad considered what would happen should Aiden never be found. The truth was even though he loved the kid, Chad knew his life would go on. He’d probably remember Aiden whenever he saw a small boy with a mop of brown hair blowing in the wind. He even admitted he would probably cry until he ran out of tears.
But his life would go on.
Not so if there was a sudden Jared-sized hole in his life. That absence would tear Chad’s life apart for Jared was not only an anchor for him, but, in a way, an absolution for the way Chad lived. The CEO knew his lifestyle could be charitably described as hedonistic, but that was what he’d always planned. For when he turned thirty-five, God willing, Chad was going to pack it all away: sell his company, cash in his chips and move to a place where the odds were good he’d never see any of his exes or risk meeting a woman who’d remind him of the many string of girlfriends he had been blessed and cursed with.
And the reason that he’d held on so long to this plan was quite simply: Jared. Chad knew his best friend had similar plans, but nobody except Chad knew Jared had went into it ass backwards. He should’ve sown his wild oats first. Instead, he hooked up with the first looker who had a decent heart and an IQ higher than his. And convinced himself that his wild oats didn’t need his attention.
Chad looked down at his distraught friend and shook his head. Aiden was the only thing that was good from the mess that was Jared’s private life, He knew that in spite of Jared’s skirt/trousers chasing ways, he would settle down one day. Or, at least, if not with one person, then slow down to keep his son's respect. But with no Aiden, Jared’s downward spiral would achieve mach speed, and in spite of his size, Jared would find trouble one day: the kind that would kill him.
Chad had never known what it meant to feel like wanting to murder someone. Until now. In spite of his short fuse, he was not a violent man, so the knowledge that he could actually comprehend and accept the desire to end a human life startled him a little.
What was even more upsetting was how negligible his surprise was.
Please God, Chad prayed. Please, for all our sakes, return Aiden to us.
Jared sat stiffly, eyes unfocused as if an anvil had slammed his head repeatedly. Sandy was doing marginally better as she answered a reporter’s question. Because of her diminutive size and the obvious distress, the media was extremely gentle with her. Even Jared was treated with kid gloves by the reporters who, in Singer’s experience, would’ve had little troubling grilling the man. Politely, of course, but put in the fire all the same since it was his house that Aiden was taken from.
“The press loves them,” Palicki whispered.
Singer smiled a little. “Good for us. The public sees sympathetic parents, they’re going to be on the lookout.”
“But how long will that last, I wonder?”
“Three weeks, four tops,” Singer answered. “Be grateful that they’re rich, white, and respected.”
“That sounds a little cynical,” Palicki said without heat.
“That’s me being hopeful,” Singer said. “It’s been seventy-two hours.”
Palicki looked serene but Singer noticed her grip on her briefcase tightened considerably. They were both sweating earlier in the evening, working against a clock that had no notion of kindness or leniency, just lethal efficiency. When the marker passed that magical number, Singer felt the entire team deflate, as if they saw the end and it wasn’t coming at them on soft wings.
And it was hard enough on Singer’s people already since they’ve been fielding numerous calls, all claiming to have information about the kidnapping. They had little choice but to investigate the ones who didn’t stand out as lunatics. And the amount of footwork that took tired even the veterans within a day. But Singer knew the real reason: nobody believed the boy was alive and none of them wanted to find his violated corpse.
Hell, I don’t want to find Aiden, Singer admitted to himself. He then heard Sandy’s tremulous voice and refocused on the mother.
Sandy answered another question before looking at Jared. The man shook his head a little, his deep voice slightly creaky from speaking too little the last few days.
“I don’t care about the damage to my house,” Jared said, looking worn down and so very lost. “I don’t care about the what or the why, and no - I’m not angry. I just want my boy back. That’s all I want.”
He closed his eyes as tears escaped. Sandy embraced him and looked at the field of reporters. “No more, please.”
Detective Wingate who was spear-heading the conference immediately stepped in. “This interview is over. Please read the information we’ve handed out, and we will contact you through e-mail if any new information is available.
“Thank you.”
Singer wasn’t surprised to find Jared and Sandy entwined tightly as they were led out of the room. He spotted Buddy waiting for them right outside, and found himself smiling when Sandy opened the embrace to include him. The three parents stood there, a tight huddle to protect them from everyone, even the detective who watched and guarded them.
Part I * Part III