“Actually, now that you mention it, he didn't say what he wanted.”

“Did he leave a name and number?”

“Didn't leave a number, said he was hard to catch, but he took your card. He did say his name was Michael.”

“That's it, just Michael?”

Wade tried to place the name.

“Well, no, he also said he was from San Antonio.”

Wade couldn't think of anyone he knew in Texas. He'd just have to wait for a call.

“Huh, can't imagine who it might be.”

****

Michael let himself into his room. Sitting down at the little desk, he pulled out the business card from Golden Century.

Wade Duncan

Golden Century Realty

 

“My goal is your satisfaction”

Michael doubted that his satisfaction was Wade Duncan's first concern. He stared at the card and began organizing the details of what he needed to do. Most of it he'd worked out in his head already, but how to get Wade Duncan alone was going to require some planning.

He let his mind wander to that meeting, what it would be like to tell him face to face the pain that he had brought upon he and Tammy. To have the ability to demonstrate what that pain was, to make him feel the despair and the loneliness. Michael spent the rest of night reveling in the thought, until sleep finally took over.

****

The next day, Wade was at the office until almost 6:00 p.m. and was the last to leave on this Friday night. He had talked to Katie earlier and said that he would pick up Jack from soccer practice on the way home  and then get some Chinese food.

When he pulled up at the soccer field, practice was still going on. The coach had the boys in a circle and seemed to be giving them final instructions for Saturday's game. Jack saw his dad and gave him a wave. Wade waved back and joined a group of other parents who were waiting.

Rick Dolan, Tommy's dad, reached out his hand.

“Hi, Wade. How ya doing?”

“Good, you?”

They shook hands.

“Fine.” Rick gestured towards the field.

“Did you know coach was going to put Jack in goal?”

Wade was surprised and his voice showed it.

“No, is that where he played today?”

“Yup, did real good, too.”

Wade knew how much Jack wanted to play goal. The circle broke up and the boys straggled over. Jack ran.

“Dad, I'm playing goalie tomorrow!”

He was beaming.

“I heard, Sport. That's awesome!”

“Will you be there?”

Wade put his arm around his son's shoulder as they walked to the car.

“You bet. Ten o'clock, right?”

“Yup.”

“I told mom we'd stop and get Chinese.”

“That's cool.”

Wade ruffled Jack's hair before they got in the car.

“Cool,” he agreed.

****

They arrived home with dinner in hand a half an hour later. Jack burst through the door.

“Mom…mom, I'm playin' goalie tomorrow!”

Katie hugged Jack.

“Really? That's great!”

Wade gave Katie a peck on the cheek.

“Yeah, and I heard he was awesome in practice today.”

Jesse came down from his room and Jack gave him the news. Jesse worshiped his big brother.

“Yay, Jack. You'll be the best ever.”

“Thanks, Jesse.”

Wade held up the three bags of Chinese food.

“Let's eat!”

He was nearly trampled by two hungry boys.

“All right!”

****

Michael sat in his car just down the street. He had followed Wade from the office as he picked up Jack and the Chinese food. As he watched the house, the unfairness he felt ate at him. He was watching what his life should have been. The life he and Tammy never had, never would have.

The fire in him raged. So much had been lost, so much had been stolen. Hopes, dreams, plans. They all died the night they took his son.

He knew he'd better go. If the anger controlled him, he might ruin everything. He wrote down the address, started the car, and sped away.

****

Saturday morning dawned clear and warm. By 9:30, the Duncan’s were all gathered at the soccer field. Jack had gone to warm up with his teammates while Katie, Wade, and Jesse went to find a seat in the bleachers.

“Over here!”

It was Shirley.

“Hi, mom. You’re here early.”

Wade nodded at his mother-in-law.

“Did Katie tell you Jack was playing goal today?”

“Yes. I bet he's super excited. Hi, Jesse. Give grandma a kiss.”

Jesse was already seated next to her and reached up to give her a hug and a kiss.

“How's my little man?”

“Good.”

The game began, and they cheered until their voices started to give out. It was near the end of the game when Wade's cell phone rang. He looked at the number and didn't recognize it. Thinking it might be a client; he slipped out of the stands and answered.

“Hello?”

“Is this Wade Duncan?”

“Yes, it is. Can I ask who is calling?”

The voice on the other end of the line hesitated.

“Hello?” Wade repeated.

“You took my son. I want him back.”

Wade didn't think he'd heard right.

“I'm sorry?”

“You took my son. I want him back.”

Wade still wasn't sure he'd heard right.

“I'm sorry, there must be some mistake…you have the wrong number.”

Wade noticed Shirley was focused on him rather than the game.

“There's no mistake. You have MY son. I want him back.”

Wade pushed the disconnect button. He stood, staring at the number.

Shirley got up and came over.

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah...Yeah, fine. Just trying to save a big sale.”

“I see; you looked like something had upset you.”

“No. It was nothing.”

She gave him a skeptical look, but didn't push the issue.

Wade returned with her to the bleachers and watched the rest of the game. His mind kept playing the conversation over and over. The man had to be mistaken. He was confused, and had him mixed up with someone else. But somewhere in the back of his mind, something was gnawing at him.

He just couldn't put his finger on it.

****

Jason couldn't figure the connection from Michael to Benny Carter. He hadn't found a link between Benny Carter and Susan Turnbull. He knew that Michael’s son had to be at the center of the puzzle, but he needed more pieces to make it come together.

The uniformed officers had been to Stan Turnbull's place twice and had not been able to reach him. They had a phone number, but it went to voicemail, so he thought he'd go poke around the brother's house. He got the address and directions from Sam and drove over.

Getting out of the car, he noticed that privacy was obviously a major concern for Mr. Turnbull. There was a large wood fence that ran from one side of the house to the other, running around the entire back of the property. The fence was covered in ivy that made seeing over it all but impossible.

Jason crossed the lawn and rang the doorbell. He waited a few minutes and tried again. He knocked. Cupping his hands, he peered through the front window. Nothing seemed out of place, no sign of trouble. He tried the door. Locked.

He walked around the side, stepping over piled up newspapers, to the gate leading into the backyard. The latch gave and he walked the path to the back. When he came around the corner, he found a covered porch with a table and some chairs. There was a half-full cup of old coffee and an open newspaper left on the table.