Chapter Six
Wes turned into the drive of the home where he grew up. It resembled most of the other brick homes with one-car garages in the cul-de-sac. His mother used to spend a lot of time in the garden. As he exited his Honda, Wes noticed a few of the annuals, but the yard definitely had a neglected feel to it.
He unlocked the front door, expecting the smells of a home-cooked meal. Instead he was met by a gloomy quietness. The blinds were closed shut in the living room. Everything about his childhood home seemed so different. Maybe because he was different.
He called out, “Mom!” His mother knew he was coming by. Wes strained his ears and heard voices coming from the bedroom down the hallway. He walked hesitantly toward the open bedroom door with his ear cocked to catch the conversation.
“Dad, Baxter isn’t here. Look, please let’s get you dressed.”
“Well, where is he? Wanda, we have to find him.”
Wes entered the room. “Mom. Pops.”
Wanda turned toward him, her face weary. “Hey, Wes.”
“Let me help you.” He moved to the other side of his grandfather and grabbed the sleeve that his mother had been trying to help guide Pops’s arm through.
Pops looked at him with a faint smile. “Boy, where you been? Did you bring the girl home with you?”
Wes grinned. “Nope. No girl this time, Pops.”
“Wes, you got to help me find Baxter.” Pops’s eyes were drooping, and his speech was slurred.
Wes patted his grandfather’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Pops. Baxter is fine. Why don’t you lay back and enjoy a nap?” Pops seemed to be drifting in and out of a memory from a decade ago. The last time Wes had brought a girl home was when he was in college, right around the time Pops’s chocolate Lab, Baxter, had died.
Wanda switched the channels on the television until she found what appeared to be an old black-and-white Western. She turned and smiled. “His favorite.” She nodded for Wes to move toward the door.
Once they both were outside in the hallway, his mom touched his arm. She eyed him. “Seems like every time he sees you, he is asking about some girl. Is there something I should know?”
Wes laughed. “Believe me, I’d like to know too.”
His mother smiled. “Oh, hon, the right girl will come along when you are not looking. I can tell you this here girl is sorry I haven’t had a chance to start dinner yet.”
“Mom, don’t even sweat it.” Besides, what he really needed was some spiritual food today. After joining Serena at her apartment on Friday night, Wes realized he had grown lethargic about his commitments.
His mother walked ahead down the hall. “Tell me about church. I’ve missed too many Sundays with Dad needing care. The younger Freeman is pretty much pastoring now, right?”
Reverend Jonathan Freeman had been filling in for his ailing father, senior pastor of Victory Gospel Church, for a year now. Wes followed behind her into the kitchen. “Yes. The older reverend still attends when he is able, but his son delivers the sermons most Sundays now.”
As they entered the small kitchen, Wes stopped and looked around. He had spent many afternoons working on homework at the round country table. He watched his mother open and close cabinets and then open the fridge to stare at the shelves. Wanda put her hands on her hips. “My goodness, Wes, I should have gone grocery shopping. It just slipped my mind.”
Wes responded, “Why don’t we eat out?”
Wanda turned and shook her head. “Wes, I can’t leave him.”
“Yes, of course. I will pick up some food.” Wes scolded himself for not thinking to grab some food after he left church. He should have known not to expect his mother to fix a Sunday meal. Life was no longer the same.
His mother touched his cheek. “My sweet boy. I sure could put my feet up right about now.” Wanda entered the living room and turned the lamps on. A warmth radiated from the golden lamp shades, pushing the gloominess away. As Wanda sank into the recliner, she said with a sigh, “Honey, whatever you find to eat works for me.”
Wes left the house. As he drove away from the house, he fought back emotions. Pops lost in the past. His mother’s weary spirit. He had always had a small family, just Mom and Pops. Both of them seemed so fragile now. He felt like he should be doing more.
Wes pulled into a nearby Chinese restaurant. The restaurant was packed with people dressed in their church clothes. He walked up to the counter and ordered broccoli and chicken, pork fried rice, egg rolls, and wings from the menu. Not the most healthy selections, but this was the kind of meal his mom would bring home after working a long shift at the hospital. He liked seeing her come through the door with the brown paper bag, oftentimes with one side soaked from the food cartons inside.
As he sat waiting for his order, some people recognized him. That was one of the benefits of being a local reporter. He usually liked to talk, but he was in a subdued mood at the moment and just wanted to get back to his family. Like the curious reporter he was, he checked his phone. He wanted to keep up with any leads in the disappearance of that local celebrity, Melanie. Back in the day, his pops would have been on a missing case like this.
“Sir, your order is ready.” The cashier interrupted his scrolling through e-mail.
Wes inhaled the smells coming from the brown bag as he drove back to his mother’s house. He was hungrier than he thought. As Wes approached the house, he saw a small white car, what looked like a Toyota Corolla, parked in front of the house. He didn’t remember his mother mentioning anything about company. He turned into the drive, cut off the car, and then grabbed the bag. As he headed toward the front door, he noticed a young woman had stepped out of the driver’s side of the car. There was something about her face that seemed so familiar. Where had he seen her before?
His reporter’s senses kicked in as she approached.
It was hard to tell her age. She was about four inches shorter than him, and her curly black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her face appeared apprehensive as she approached him.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
She stared at his face and then finally stuttered, “Yes, I’m l-looking for Detective Lenny Cade.”
Wes frowned. No one had referred to his grandfather as a detective in years. Pops had been retired about seven years now. “That’s my grandfather. May I ask why you are looking for him?”
She looked down at the restaurant bag in his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to intrude. I wondered if this was a good idea.” The woman clasped her small hands and then pulled them apart as she talked. “I just left church, and I’ve been driving around and around. I thought I would try to see him. Is he here?”
Now more curious, Wes studied the young woman. She looked so familiar to him, but he could not figure out why. “He’s not up for company today.”
“Okay. Well, when is a good time to see him?”
Feeling a bit protective of Pops, Wes narrowed his eyes. “Who did you say you were again?”
“I didn’t. I’m sorry. I’m being so rude,” she blurted. “My name is Angel. Angel Roberts. Detective Cade was a friend of my grandfather, Nick Roberts. I wanted to ask him some questions about my mother’s case. Elisa Roberts.”
Speechless, Wes stared at the woman. That was where the familiarity was coming from. He’d recently seen pictures of Elisa Roberts. He remembered a photo of a little girl. Well, here she was, all grown up. She had definitely inherited her mother’s beautiful bone structure.
Wes responded, “Why don’t you come in? Maybe I can help you.” Maybe they could help each other.