Jamie Garrett - Riley Reid 03 - Ends and Beginnings (5 page)

Who was Kevin Reid? Could he have been related to my father? I had never heard of him. But I’d  never heard of or met much of my dad’s family. His father was dead by the time I was born. My grandmother died when I was ten. Other than them, I didn’t even know that he had any other family. Maybe Kevin was a cousin or something?

“Do you have an address or phone number for Kevin Reid?”

Marco gave me a sideways look. “Yeah, I do but … I thought you were looking for someone, not the car.”

“I’m looking for both. Do you have an address?”

“Of course. 17 Fox Run in Roanoke.”

I shook Marco’s sweaty hand. “Thank you very much, Mr. Abreu. You have no idea how much this helps.”

I left the trailer and went back out into Sunny View.

“Did it help enough to get me a dinner with you?”

I smiled at Marco and went to my car. “Have a good day.”

Marco was also smiling. He shrugged. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

Upon getting back into my car, I entered the address Marco gave me into my GPS. There were several hits. I chose the match that was in Roanoke, Virginia, southwest from Richmond.

As I was leaving Sunny View, I noticed something, or rather someone, odd outside the security booth. A large man with a shaved head and tattoos covering his arms and neck watched me as I drove up and passed by. There was something about him that set off alarm bells in my mind. He seemed a bit too interested in me and my car.

I left Sunny View and headed to my hotel to check out. When I planned my trip, I figured I might need the room if there were more leads in Richmond. As it turned out, I’d gotten all I needed from the Virginia state capitol in one afternoon.

From my hotel, I headed towards Roanoke. I went with full knowledge and anticipation that I might’ve been going to meet family. But I’m a pessimist by nature. So I didn’t get my hopes up.

On the way to Roanoke, I tried my best to remember any mention of a “Kevin” by my father. Memories of my teenage years and younger were hazy, at best. I could recall specific events and things that were important. But for the life of me, I couldn’t remember any mention of my dad having any siblings or cousins.

I realized that it was very unlikely that my father, Troy Reid, didn’t have any living family members. Whether they were extended or immediate, there had to be some surviving members of the Red clan somewhere in the country. Just because he never told me about them or I never met them, that didn’t mean they didn’t exist.

The drive to Roanoke was long and pretty boring. It took longer for me to get from Richmond to Roanoke than it had taken me to get from Stone Harbor to Richmond. To make it worse, the scenery was all highway, flanked by identical looking woods.

Finally, as the sun started to fall, I saw a sign for an exit that led into Roanoke. I took it, then stopped at a gas station before going any further. Not only did I have to fill up, but I also needed to use the bathroom.

When I entered the convenience store section of the gas station, I headed straight towards the front counter. Behind it was a middle-aged Indian man. I asked him for the keys to the bathroom and he granted my request.

After I finished with the facilities (and feeling filthy having used them), I went back into the store to return the keys and pay for my gas. A man with his son caught my eye and attention. The father had the child on his shoulders. They were joking with each other and laughing. I may not have many clear memories of my childhood, but I know I never had as much fun with my dad as those two were having.

I paid for my gas and left. After filling up my tank, I got back into my car. Before leaving, I watched the father and son from the store go back to their car. Inside, a woman was waiting for them. I could only assume she was the kid’s mother and the guy’s wife.

I’m not sure why that family was so fascinating to me. It could have been jealousy. Maybe jealousy is a little too negative a term to apply to it. More likely it was envy. What’s the difference between the two? Jealousy, in my interpretation, meant that someone else had something you wanted and you had the urge to take it. Envy was simply wanting something someone else had and leaving it at that.

The family left the gas station. Then I did. According to my GPS, 17 Fox Run was only about ten minutes away. That made me happy. At that point, I was a little sick of being on the road.

Fox Run turned out to be a small development. It was gorgeous. I didn’t see one house that wouldn’t cost less than a quarter of a million dollars. Even in the approaching darkness, they were picturesque. All manner of complicated lighting schemes made them impressive.

It didn’t take me long to find 17 Fox Run. There were maybe twenty-five houses in the development, all on the same road that formed a very big oval. 17 Fox Run was perhaps one of the largest and most impressive houses in a neighborhood full of them.

I counted three floors from the outside. There were little fake electric candles in every window, of which there were many. It looked like something you might’ve seen in colonial times, but modern and nicer. The front lawn was bigger than most properties. Before this, my yardstick for fancy houses belonged to the parents of Dennis Clark, from the case that dumped me in the middle of this whole mess to begin with. What I saw put the Clark residence to shame. You could probably fit two of their house inside the one I was parked in front of.

Before I could get out of my car, another one drove past me slowly and pulled into the driveway. It was a luxury vehicle, a Lexus. I decided to watch as a tall man with clean-cut, sandy blonde hair and a suit got out and went inside the house. He must’ve just gotten back from work.

I waited another five minutes, not only so the man who just got back could get situated, but also because I was a bit nervous. There was a very good chance that when I walked up and rang that doorbell, a member of my family that I never met would answer. What would I say? How would I approach it?

There was one other possible outcome that scared me more than any other. What if Kevin Reid wasn’t related to me at all? Then I would have to struggle to explain why the hell I was at his front door, asking about a Trans Am and a guy named Troy. But I figured that the chances that a man with the last name of Reid bought the car that my dad sold a year before were slim.

I got out of my car. Even the air in Fox Run smelled great. It was a mix of grass clippings and clean, crisp night air. The walkway that led up to the front door was made from some pretty-looking stones and lit by lights hidden in rocks. There wasn’t so much as a fallen leaf on it, despite the two towering trees in the front lawn. They must’ve had some good landscapers.

My finger pushed in the front doorbell. It made a traditional sound. Part of me wished that no one would answer, that I could retreat back to my car and return to Stone Harbor. I could tell everyone that I had looked but met a dead end. No one would question it.

“I’m coming,” I heard someone yell from the other side of the front door. There was also some laughing. It came from children, plural.

The handle turned and the door opened. I saw the same man who pulled into the driveway in the doorway. He was older than me but not as old as Richard. If I had to guess, I’d say he was maybe fifty. Or he was at least in his mid-to-late-forties.

“Can I help you?” asked the man. He had sandy blonde hair, but I could see traces of grey up close. But what really caught my attention was his face. As I stated before, my memories are a little hazy. That man looked like my father, though. He looked almost exactly like him. The only real difference was that his nose had clearly been broken at some point and he had a well-trimmed beard.

“Yeah … I’m … I was wondering…” I stammered. Seeing the spitting image of my father caught me completely by surprise. I was at a loss for words.

“Are you okay, miss?”

“Who’s that?” I heard someone behind the man from another room. It was a woman’s voice.

“I don’t know, honey,” said the man as he turned his head, but not his body, to answer. Then he turned back to me. “I was just about to find out.”

“I’m Riley Reid, a private investigator.”

“A PI huh? Am I in some kind of trouble?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just need to ask you a few questions. That is, if that’s okay with you.”

The man thought about it for a few seconds. Then he said “Sure, but let’s do it out here. Honey, I’ll be right back!”

A lovely woman with long, red hair appeared in the hallway. She gave me a suspicious look then told the man, “Okay, but be quick. Dinner’s ready. I don’t want it to get cold.”

“Sure, honey, no problem,” replied the sandy-haired man. He closed the door behind him. I could see the woman staring at me as he did it.

“So, Ms. Reid, what is this about?”

“It’s about a car, Mister…?” I held out my hand for him to shake.

“Funny enough, my name is Reid as well,” said the man as he shook my hand. “I’m Kevin Reid. Nice to meet you. Now, what car?”

“A 1978 Pontiac Trans Am. A man named Marco Abreu in Richmond gave me this address. He told you he sold it to you back in the summer of 2002.”

Kevin smiled. “He told you that, huh? Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like he was professional or anything. At least, not from what I remember.”

“Do you still have the car?” I asked.

“Actually, I do,” replied Kevin. “It’s in my garage.”

He still had the car. I couldn’t believe it. It had been sixteen years since I saw it. Hell, I could picture in my mind clearer than I could either of my parents.

“Can I see it? If it’s not too much trouble?”

Kevin considered my request. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he refused. After all, I was just some strange woman who showed up to his front door one evening and inquired about a car he bought twelve years ago. Luckily, he agreed to show it to me.

We walked across the lawn to the garage, which was attached to the house. The large doors weren’t automatic, so he had to lift one up. It made a sound like a roller coaster.

The garage was very clean. I’d never seen one so neat and organized. Usually, they were full of boxes and old furniture. Most people used them as storage spaces when their basements or attics were full.

There were several cars in the garage. All of them had cloth blankets draped over them. Kevin walked over to one in particular. He took off the cover, and there she was.

Seeing the Trans Am again was an emotional experience. I could feel the tears forming in my eyes. Through willpower, I managed to fight them back.

I wasn’t attached to the car. With it came memories. With it came feelings. It was what it represented that mattered.

“Here it is. So what’s this all about?”

I ran my hands across the car. It was in great shape. “For years, I saw this car in my dreams.”

“This car, or one like it?”

“This car, definitely this car. It used to be my dad’s. He used to love it. I can’t tell you how much time I spent in this thing. I even learned to drive in it.”

“You mean, it’s like the car your dad used to have?”

I turned to Kevin for a quick second. “No, this is the one. I’m telling you, I’d never forget it.” My attention went back to the Trans Am. Specifically, I became focused on the golden firebird on the hood that looked better than ever.

“I’m sorry if this comes off a little bit rude but … I think you’re mistaken, Ms. Reid.”

“No, I’m not. This is the car.”

“This car, it belonged to my brother. I tracked it down knowing that, and bought it.”

I didn’t say anything. Instead I stopped caressing the Trans Am and stood up straight with my back to Kevin. He was my uncle. The only remaining question was whether or not he realized it yet.

“What’s your dad’s name?” asked Kevin.

“Troy Reid. I’m his daughter.”

There was silence. Then I felt someone lightly grab my shoulders from behind. Kevin turned me around so he could get a look at my face.

“You’re my brother’s daughter?” Kevin was shocked.

I stuck out my hand for Kevin to shake again. “I’m Riley Reid, and I think I’m your niece.”

Kevin invited me inside his house. He insisted that I have dinner with him and his family. It felt a bit strange. There I was, a stranger invited to have a meal with strangers. With that said, as awkward as it was, I enjoyed it.

I wasn’t introduced as Kevin’s niece. He just told them my name and that I was eating with them that evening. His family seemed a little surprised, but they were still nice to me.

My uncle Kevin had a wife named Angelica. She was the pretty, red-headed woman I saw earlier from the doorway. From my first impressions, she was a nice lady. Understandably, she seemed a little suspicious of me, but that faded as the meal went on.

Kevin had two kids. One was eight and her name was Belle. She looked a lot like her mother, with intensely red hair. The other child was a boy, Russell, maybe five years old. He had blonde hair and was a little pudgy. Both were very polite.

Russell was the one to ask who I was. The question came after we’d been eating for a while. They had already asked me what I did for a living and why I was there.

When Kevin answered for me and told them that I was his niece, they looked shocked. Angelica was clearly relieved. She must’ve thought there was something going on between me and her husband.

After dinner, Angelica cleaned up. The kids went into the family room to watch some television. Kevin and I went to his office to talk.

The office was predictably nice. There were leather chairs and a couch. Tall bookshelves that went from the hardwood floor to the ceiling were filled with all types of books. Many of them were medically based.

Kevin sat behind his desk that looked like it cost more than my apartment. He opened a drawer and took out a bottle of brandy, and two glasses. I was offered a drink but I turned it down, politely.

“I guess I’ll start,” said Kevin. He poured himself some brandy. “Our parents had me when they were in their forties. My mom called me ‘the best kind of surprise’. See, they had no intention of having another kid. Troy was born when they were in their early twenties. So there was more than a twenty year gap between us.”

“That must’ve been … well it must’ve been weird.”

“It was a little bit weird. But for the most part it was like being an only child. By the time I was born, Troy had already moved out of the house, so I only saw him every once and awhile. Every time he did come around, though, it was in that car.

“As a kid, the Trans Am, it just looked cool. It had that firebird and the cool black paintjob. I loved it. I became fascinated with it. My mom even got me toy versions. I must’ve had at least twenty of them.” Kevin screwed the cap back on his bottle of brandy and put it back in the desk drawer. “Whenever Troy came by, which wasn’t often, I made him give me a ride.”

“What was he like? I mean how do you remember him?” Honestly, I wasn’t too interested in Kevin’s fascination with my dad’s car. I wanted to know about the man it belonged to.

Kevin took a sip of his brandy. “Like I said, I was young. The only things I really remember was that whenever he came home to visit, he and my parents would argue. He got into a lot of trouble with the police, on a regular basis. In fact, once they even showed up at our house. I think it was Thanksgiving or Christmas, I’m not sure which. We were eating dinner and they came knocking.”

“What’d they want?”

“Apparently, Troy had been dealing drugs. Someone tried to rob him and he stabbed the guy. Troy spent two years locked up for it. When he got out, he stopped coming around. He stopped calling and visiting us. I think he was angry at our parents. He thought they betrayed him by telling the cops that he was there.

“I never saw or heard from him again after the night he got arrested. Time went by, I got older and I stopped thinking about it. And I know this sounds awful, but I tried to forget about him.

“Then my parents passed away when I was twenty-three,” said Kevin in a solemn voice.

“I’m sorry.” I didn’t have to ask how my grandparents died. I already knew. Not long before my parents abandoned me, I found my dad crying in the bathroom. He went there to get away from me and my mom. It was the only time I’d ever seen him sad. I’d seen him angry and happy, but never sad.

When I asked my dad what was wrong, he told me my grandparents had died. There was a bad car accident. A drunk teen slammed into them, killing them. Of course, the teen only got a few scratches but I think he’s still in jail.

“Thank you, but I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“For what?”

Kevin took another sip of his brandy. “For not being around. For not reaching out. For not finding you. You see, I knew about you. I never met you, Troy never brought you over to my parents’ house, but I knew about you.”

“By my math, you were only what … seven when I was born. And you were twenty-three when my folks left. What could you have done? Adopt me? You probably weren’t even out of medical school, right?” I meant every word that I said.

“Yeah, I was still in school. How’d you figure that out?”

The books on his shelves and the big house clued me in that he was in a medical profession. Also the way he carried himself, the way he talked clued me in. “I’m a PI, remember?”

Kevin smiled and finished his brandy. “That’s right. Being in medical school still isn’t a good excuse though. Anyway, life went on. Two years after my parents died, I got a call from a detective in Stone Harbor. He told me his name was Richard Greyson. Troy was missing, along with his wife. Then he told me that you were left behind. And he wanted to know if I was interested in taking custody of you.

“You were my niece, but I’d never even met you. You were a stranger. So when he asked me about him adopting you, I felt like I had dodged a bullet. I wasn’t ready for that type of responsibility. I wasn’t even done with school yet.

“The years went by without hearing anything about Troy. After five years, I figured he was either dead or never coming back. I met Angelica and we got married. Then we had Belle. Then Russell. My life was so busy, so full. I never found the time to reach out to you. For that, again, I’m deeply sorry. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me.”

It’s never nice to hear that you were a low priority. It bothered me a little bit. But I didn’t want to the ruin the night by asking too many questions. Despite all of my private investigator instincts, I just went with it.

“Again, there is nothing for you to be sorry for. I understand.”

Kevin smiled, but didn’t look me in the eye for about a minute. He felt ashamed. It didn’t matter how many times or ways I told him not to, he would.

“When Troy first disappeared, I was left with nothing from him. I had very few memories and no pictures. So I went after the one thing I did remember about him. I went after the car.

“I found it in Richmond with the same guy who led you here. After buying, it I fixed it up. At the time, I actually drove it. Now, it just sits out there in the garage. Some people have photo albums. I have that Trans Am.”

Kevin took out the brandy again. He poured himself some more of the amber liquor. “I’m guessing you’re investigating what happened to your dad? Have you learned anything?”

“On second thought, I think I’ll have some of that,” I said, as I pointed at the bottle of brandy in Kevin’s hand.

“Sure,” said Kevin as he took out the second glass again. He poured me about the equivalent of a double shot.

“Where to begin?” I asked right before downing the brandy. “I’d been looking for a long time. Richard, the man you spoke to, he took me in after my parents disappeared. I’ve looked for them in the past. But nothing ever came of it. Not until a couple of months ago.”

“What happened a couple of months ago?”

“Richard, he was able to get a friend of his in the DMV to track down the registration. Then he got an address. And he gave it to me.”

Kevin squinted, and the inside of his eyebrows went down and the outsides went up. “Why didn’t he do that earlier? Why wait ‘til just a couple of months ago?”

“I think he didn’t want me to find him. Not because he’s a bad man or he didn’t want me to be happy. I think Richard would prefer I moved on from my life before he took me in. He didn’t just want to be the man who took in, he wanted me to be family.”

“Is he?”

“Is he what, my family or the man who took me in?”

Kevin nodded.

“He’s both, I suppose.”

“What happened when my brother left? Do you remember? Was there anything strange about him or his behavior before he left?”

“He dealt drugs, so everything about his behavior was a little strange. Add in the fact that he sampled his product on a regular basis.”

“Jesus, Riley! How could you live like that?”

“It wasn’t that bad. He never hit me or abused me in any way. At times, he could be a good dad. That made the times that he wasn’t so good more bearable.”

Kevin finished his second glass of brandy. “And that night? That’s when he, they, left right?”

“They said they were going out for the night. My mom gave me some money to order some pizza. And they just never came back.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s it.”

We kept talking for what seemed like an hour but ended up being three or four. It was nice. I was comfortable and felt safe in Kevin’s home.

Kevin got up. He had his glass in one hand and took mine in the other. My newfound uncle headed towards his kitchen. “You staying in town tonight?!” I heard him yell from the kitchen.

I got up. “I’m going to try and find a hotel or something.”

Kevin met me in the foyer as I was heading for the door. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re staying with us for the night.”

“I can’t…” I protested, but not convincingly or whole-heartedly. My uncle picked up on it.

“It’s the least that I can do. We have a guest bedroom. You stay there for the night. There’s no sense in you paying money for somewhere to sleep. Plus I gave you booze. What kind of doctor would I be if I let you drive now?”

I spent the night at my uncle’s house. His guest bedroom was bigger than my apartment. The décor was much nicer, more inviting. Either Angelica was an interior decorator or they paid well for a professional.

When I woke up, it was to the smell of pancakes and bacon. It didn’t smell quite as good as the Side Car, but my mouth watered all the same. Groggy and sleep-eyed, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen.

The whole Reid family was wide awake and at the table. I quickly discovered that Kevin had informed his family who I was. Just like that, overnight, they started treating me like family. All that kindness made me a little uncomfortable.

After we ate, I said my goodbyes and went out the front door. I needed to continue to search for my parents. Trouble was, I didn’t know where to go from here. I thought about my father’s invented alias. Maybe there was a record of Barry Porter buying another car after he sold the Trams Am, or renting something. I was willing to bet that security deposit was long gone.

Before I reached my car, Kevin came jogging out of the house. He had something in his hand. It looked like a letter.

“Wait up for a second!” said Kevin as he got close.  When he reached me, he handed me the letter.

I looked at the letter Kevin gave me. It was unopened. My name was scrawled across the front. The white of the envelope was yellowing. That was a sign of age.

“What is this?” I asked.

“I got it in 2001, shortly after your dad vanished. It was in a bigger envelope that had a note in it. The sender was Troy Reid,” explained Kevin.

“What did the note say?” I asked as I stared at the envelope with my name on it.

“Not much. He asked that if I ever met you, that I give you this.”

I started to open the envelope. Not knowing what was inside was unbearable. Curiosity had always controlled me.

Kevin stopped me from opening it. He made sure to make eye contact with me. “As much as I’d like to know what’s written in there, that’s for your eyes only. And I’m willing to be bet that it was likely meant to be read in private.”