The Important Parts, Chapter 44
The next morning, Luke received a phone call at seven. He was still groggy from sleep when he finally picked up the phone, barely catching it before the answering machine turned on. He started to shimmy into grey sweat pants as he answered the phone.
“Mr. Snyder,” the gruff voice on the other end of the line intoned, “It’s Sean McGarrett.”
“Good morning, Mr. McGruff,” Luke said and then suddenly became alert at the slip he had made. Crap! “Sorry, Mr. McGarrett.”
“I’m sorry to call you this early, but I was going over phone records last night, and I came across some information I think you should know.”
Luke could tell from Sean’s voice that it was bad news. “Okay, what is it?”
“I was looking at your mother’s cell phone records from the day of the accident. As you know, she received a phone call from Margo Hughes, but then she called your father.”
Luke scratched the back of his head. “Dad? She told me she tried to find him. So, that makes sense.” Maybe Luke was just too sleepy to understand the importance of what Sean was trying to tell him.
Sean corrected Luke’s misapprehension. “No, Mr. Snyder. I’m not talking about Holden Snyder. I’m saying that she called Damian Grimaldi.”
Luke’s heart froze. “What?”
“Yes, about five minutes after Detective Hughes and your mother spoke, she called the penitentiary. I assume the only inmate she knows there is Mr. Grimaldi?”
Luke’s heart started beating rapidly. “I…I think so. But, she hasn’t spoken to Damian since he was arrested. She was furious with him after what he did, afraid of his obsession with her.”
“Apparently, not that afraid.”
“Why? Why would she call him of all people?” Luke cried.
“I don’t know Mr. Snyder. And I want to ask you not to confront her about this. I want to see what information I might be able to get from the jail. Mrs. Snyder might alert Mr. Grimaldi or other persons that we’re suspicious of them.”
“It could still be innocent, though, right?” Luke did not want to believe his mother could have hidden Reid’s existence from him for all these years.
“It could, Mr. Snyder. But, I doubt it. Why else would she call him unless it was about Dr. Oliver?”
Crushed, Luke replied, “I don’t know. There were no other phone calls to the jail?”
“There was a call from the jail to her phone a few days later, and that was it.”
“Did she ever try to call my dad?” Maybe part of Lily’s version of events that day was true. She had told Luke that she spent her time trying to find Holden.
“Not until much later, about an hour after Detective Hughes called.”
Luke’s heart sank. His parents, his biological parents that is, were somehow involved in making Reid disappear.
Reining in his emotions, Luke managed to get off the phone with Sean before he lost control. For a moment, he sat numbly on the foot of his bed, unable to understand the betrayal.
Long ago, he had determined that Damian was capable of anything. But his mother? He never really believed his mother would have anything to do with this. He loved her. She loved him. How could she do this? He gulped for air, feeling as if a huge weight had descended upon his chest and then squeezed.
Tears burned his eyes the more he thought about what Sean had said. He frantically tried to think of a legitimate reason why his mother would have called Damian that day.
Putting on a dark blue sweat shirt, Luke picked up the keys to his apartment that were atop his dresser. He took a few breaths. I just need to get out of here. He walked out the door, locking it behind him.
He was unaware that someone had been listening to his conversation.
***
Halfway across the country, in a small apartment in the suburbs of Baltimore, Amanda was paying a little visit to Reid's former physical therapist. The living room was sparsely furnished, showing evidence of little care as there were clothes and old food scattered about. In the center, was a wooden chair.
George Brumfield was sitting tied to the chair, its small proportion at odds with the large man’s physique. In front of him, paced a petite brunette woman with long legs and a deadly smile. Behind her stood a brute of a man whose menacing features scared the heck out of George.
But, the woman was more frightening. Her warm Southern accent and pretty face belied an uncanny hardness underneath. She was wearing a white blouse with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, a pencil skirt, and black stiletto heels. Her glances were lethal, her slow calculated movements were terrifying.
“So, Mr. Brumfield, I know you have had a few aliases in the past few years. Gambling debts and loan sharks have mounted up?”
“You know they have, so why ask?”
She tapped George on the chin. “Tut, tut. I’ll do all the questioning. You managed to stay in New York for a couple of years, though?”
“I did.”
“And you were paid by someone to give Reid Oliver therapy and report back to them?”
“We’ve been over this. Yes.” George’s frustration was reflected in his voice.
“Did you ever meet the person who paid you?” She didn’t bother to look at George as she asked.
“Just once. At the beginning.”
“And would you recognize this person?”
“I might. But, why would I help you?”
Amanda looked down at her dainty hand and rubbed one of her fingernails with a fingertip, emphasizing the long point of the red nail. “That’s a good question, Mr. Brumfield. I suppose the first reason might be that we could turn you in to the authorities for fraud, among other many crimes. The second reason could be that I might make a phone call or two to a few of those loan sharks looking for you. And the third reason, Mr. Brumfield,” she said, lowering her face inches from his, “you don’t want to know the third reason.”
George visibly gulped, and Amanda raised one eyebrow. “What’s your decision?”
The former therapist closed his brown eyes and nodded his head abruptly. “Fine. Show me the pictures. I can’t promise anything.”
Amanda pulled from her black leather purse a small stack of photographs. Among them were all the suspects and the known cohorts of Damian Grimaldi. She sent up a silent prayer that the man who paid George was among this group.
One by one she flipped over each photo, presenting them to George for his inspection. After looking at each picture, George would shake his head or say, “No, not that one.”
Feeling dejected, she opened her purse and saw one last photograph, separate from the others, was lying inside. On a whim, she pulled it out, and asked, “Do you recognize this one?”
George’s eyes widened as he looked down at the photograph. He looked back up at Amanda and said, “Yes, I think I do.”
Amanda stared at the photograph in her hand in shock, trying to process what this meant. It seemed impossible, but maybe… Suddenly, a thought struck her and she realized the truth.
She looked at her bodyguard and nodded in the direction of George. “Free him.”
She immediately picked up her cell phone and called Luke Snyder. No one answered. She left a message, telling Luke to call her back immediately. If she hadn’t heard from him in an hour, she would call again and then try to find him. It was nine o’clock.
A/N Sorry for the delay. I've had no time to read or write this week. I'm hoping the situation improves soon and that I can post a bit more frequently. I