Chapter 21

 

 

I got to see Frankie in charm mode as we stood in the middle of ICM Partners and spoke with the manager. The boy could talk the scales off a fish.

“Computers and all are just crazy to me,” Frankie said to the man. They were the same height and probably only ten years apart. “I want mine fixed but I just don’t know who to trust with it. There’s some sensitive things on there. Nothing illegal, of course, but I don’t want someone to steal my identity.”

The man had nodded along with the whole thing. “I know, man. It’s hard to hand over your computer system to anyone and give them a list of passwords. You never know what they could get up to.”

“Your store here is set up really well, you must have a good IT guy.”

“Yeah, we use Computer Mart for all our technology matters. The owner, Marshall, he’s fantastic.”

Both Frankie and my own ears pricked at hearing my father’s name. “Have you been using him long?”

“Yeah, a few years now. He’s not exactly cheap but he knows his way around a network,” the manager said. He seemed completely at ease speaking about the missing man. He wasn’t setting off any of my suspicious sensors.

“That’s what I need,” Frankie lied. “Do you have his card or contact details so I can give him a call?”

“Sure, no problem. I’ll just grab them.” Manager Trey walked purposefully to the office and disappeared behind a door.

I spoke quietly to Frankie while we were alone. “It doesn’t seem like he knows the news of my father’s absence. He’s either very good at acting or he hasn’t had any computer troubles since before he went missing.”

“He seems genuine.”

“All the good liars are,” I pointed out. You knew you were speaking with an excellent liar when everything seemed genuine. Either Manager Trey was indeed genuine, or he was a better liar than me.

And nobody was a better liar than me.

Trey returned before we could speak any more about him. I wondered if his ears were burning the whole time we were away. “Here’s his card. Tell him I sent you and he’ll make sure to look after you.”

Frankie accepted the card and tucked it into his pocket. “Thanks for that. I appreciate your time.”

“Did you want to look at those artworks while you’re here?” Trey might have been honest but he was also a salesman about to see a potential sale walk out the door. I had to hand it to him for initiative.

“You know, I think I’ll sleep on it,” Frankie said. “Thanks for all your advice. Have a great afternoon.”

He took my hand and I followed him out of the shop. “I think it’s pretty safe to throw him out of the suspect pool,” I started. “He wouldn’t have given you the card if he’d been responsible for his IT guy going missing.”

“Yeah, I agree. He seemed nice.”

“Serial killers are also called nice. It’s how they get so close to so many victims.” Even though Manager Trey did seem innocent, it was still good to remember that we might be wrong. “We seem to be finding a lot of dead ends.”

“Then the search continues.”

I had to love his optimism.

It wasn’t something I was particularly good at.

We went our separate ways after returning to our own neighborhood. There was no point in putting off going home any longer. I still had to cook dinner for Uncle Marvin, Matilda, and myself no matter how late I arrived home.

Many years earlier I had discovered that my uncle took bad news better when he had a stomach full of good, starchy food. With that in mind, I decided to cook pasta with garlic bread on the side. The stench of his breath was worth the potentially quieter yelling.

He groaned as his generous bottom hit the seat and his stubby fingers wrapped around a fork. I placed the bowl of steaming hot pasta in front of him and waited.

My spaghetti was tasteless as I ate it. It was difficult to focus on anything when I had a letter in my pocket that needed his signature. My first thought had been to sign it myself, but then Principal Moore wanted a meeting with him and there was no way I could forge that.

Unless… I could have paid an actor to play the part of my uncle.

But he’d already met my real uncle and Uncle Marvin wasn’t the kind of person someone forgets easily. He was extraordinarily remarkable in the way he could make an impression on someone.

Mostly he left them with a sense of extreme dislike.

I took after him.

He finished his bowl too soon, slurping up the last piece of spaghetti before it left a ring of tomato sauce around his lips. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.

Delightful.

Luckily I didn’t take after him with my table manners.

“Uh, Uncle Marvin,” I started. My foot was nervously tapping a beat on the floor. I pressed down hard to try to make it sit still. “I was called to the principal’s office today.”

“What have you done now, girl?” He pushed back from the table to allow his belly room to spill over his lap.

“Someone stole the giant fish mascot from the school courtyard and he’s blaming me for it.”

Uncle Marvin was like a boiling kettle. He took a few minutes to brew before he completely blew his top. “Why did you steal the stupid fish, you stupid girl? Didn’t you realize you’d get caught for it? How stupid do you have to be?”

“I didn’t do it,” I said calmly. I had to be a duck and let it roll right off my back. Uncle Marvin yelled a lot, normally at me. I could handle this.

I hoped.

“Yeah, right. Don’t lie to me, you idiot. I know what you get up to, you like to take things that don’t belong to you. Don’t you? I’m not an idiot, I see what goes on around here.”

“I don’t steal things and I certainly didn’t steal the giant fish. I’m not an idiot.” It was as far as I could go with defending myself. When my uncle really got going he could have scared a roaring lion. It was better if I just took whatever he threw at me and cried later to myself. “I was given a letter that you have to sign. Principal Moore wants to have a meeting with you.”

“What, now I have to deal with your mess? Your idiot principal is a damn idiot. I don’t have time for a meeting, and if I did, I wouldn’t waste my time with him.” Uncle Marvin spat the words at me, his breath laced with garlic.

Funny enough, he was taking it better than I expected.

“I tried to tell him that but he insisted. Will you please sign the letter?” I pushed it across the table with a pen in one hand. All he had to do was squiggle on the line and this conversation could be paused until the meeting. “Please? I’ll tell him again how busy you are.”

He grumbled under his breath the whole time but Uncle Marvin did eventually sign the letter. He threw the pencil at me and stomped out of the kitchen.

I was shaking all over from the encounter. It was stupid getting upset about what just happened, I’d expected worse and I’d received worse before.

But, somehow, it always hurt when he didn’t believe me. It would have been nice to have him in my corner, defending me against the false accusations.

Thank goodness I had Frankie. I had one person in billions who actually believed me.

I only needed one.

I fed Matilda who purred contentedly while she ate. At least someone around the house was grateful for their meal. Washing the dishes and then cleaning the kitchen, I couldn’t wait to get back to the sanctity of my bedroom.

Uncle Marvin was engrossed in a football game when I crept behind him and went upstairs. With any luck he would be asleep soon and unable to upset me any further.

Thinking him capable of having something to do with my father’s disappearance was beginning to seem more plausible every day that passed. He was angry, not just a little, but a lot. He was revealing his dark side to me piece by piece.

The moment I closed the door to my bedroom, my phone beeped with a message. My heart lifted with anticipation of what Frankie had messaged me.

I looked at the screen, only to find a message from someone unexpected.

The Keeper of Discarded Things.

 

Hey, Em. Your dad’s name is Marshall, right? I think I have something you should see.

 

Mr. Adison never played around. He also so rarely contacted me that I always forgot he actually had my number and I had his. I stared at the message for a long time while the thoughts and questions whirled around in my head.

What did he have?

Why did I need to see it?

How did he know my dad’s name?

What was going on?

No matter how many times I read the message it didn’t reveal anything new. I was going to have to speak with him and I was going to have to do it first thing tomorrow.

After the previous encounter with Uncle Marvin, finding my father was now my number one priority. I needed more family in my life, I was no longer satisfied with being my uncle’s housemaid.

Maybe Mr. Adison held the key that I needed.