Trail of Blood. Wanda Evans
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But once again Jim hesitated, weighing what he should do. He just couldn’t bring himself to report Scott’s disappearance yet. Hopefully, Scott was spending some time with friends. Maybe Scott had decided to move out of the apartment he was sharing with Leisha, because of his engagement to Jessica. Jim decided he would not tell Barbara for a few days, hoping Scott would turn up.
The decision didn’t resolve Jim’s anxieties. He still could not sleep. Through his mind passed snapshots of the past. Jim remembered the day Scott was born, the first time he held his son. He had looked into that wrinkled little face and vowed he would always be there for his son. Jim had hardly known his own father; his grandparents had raised him. They had become his parents after he had been abandoned by his birth parents. Even after all these years, there was an aching emptiness inside Jim, because he had never known his father. He made a commitment that he would be a real father to his son. Scott would never have to wonder where his father was; Jim’s children would never have to question whether he supported them wholeheartedly in their every endeavor. Their world would be different from his: their father would be an integral part of their everyday lives. However, because of the divorce this hadn’t been possible.
Nevertheless he had tried to show his children the love he felt in his heart. And now, when Scott was about to become the warm, caring, successful man his potential indicated he could be, was all that potential, that promise, cut down so prematurely?
Jim turned to face the wall and punched his pillow. Had something happened to Scott that would rob him of the opportunity to be the man he yearned to be? Jim was filled with fear that it had.
Monday morning, Jim got up and tried to go about his work as if nothing unusual had happened. He didn’t mention the late night telephone call to Barbara; he didn’t want to worry her. But he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He slogged through the day, trying to focus on work, but his anxiety about Scott lurked just below the surface and he kept waiting, torn between hope and dread, listening for the telephone to ring. It didn’t.
The hours dragged by. Then another sleepless night. On Tuesday, when he hadn’t heard from Scott and nothing more from Leisha, Jim called her at work. He had two reasons for calling the woman: to see if she had heard from Scott and to see if she had been telling him the truth about who she was and where she worked.
Leisha didn’t sound at all happy to hear Jim’s voice. “No, I have not heard from Scott,” she snapped. “And furthermore, I don’t have time to talk to you.”
Her rudeness took Jim by surprise. She hadn’t been overly friendly when she called on Sunday night, but she certainly had been a little more cordial than she was today. Was her rudeness because she really was too busy to talk or was it because she wasn’t concerned about Scott’s whereabouts any longer?
Jim didn’t know. He had no sense of what was going on in her mind, but he determined that if she wouldn’t talk to him, it was time to find someone who would. He called Scott’s employer, Max Gianoli, at ProSound Electronics. If Leisha was telling the truth and Scott really had disappeared, Gianoli might have some inkling about where the young man might have gone. If Scott’s leaving had come as a surprise to Gianoli, he might be worried too.
Gianoli wasn’t worried. He was furious. “Scott let me down big time,” he snarled. “He knew we had a big show last weekend and I needed his help on it. I’m pissed as hell that he ran off like that.”
Jim tried to interrupt and ask Gianoli if he had any idea what had happened to Scott, but the man wasn’t listening. “Scott’s got to learn that he can’t come and go as he pleases. I’ve got a business to run.”
“Does this mean Scott’s fired?” Jim asked.
“It sure as hell does. He’s out of here,” Gianoli growled and hung up.
For a few more days, Jim’s thoughts bounced back and forth as he tried to make a decision. Normally logical and decisive, Jim felt frustrated that he couldn’t settle on what to do about Scott. Or if he should do anything. Call the police. Don’t call the police.
Finally, Jim decided that if Scott hadn’t returned home by the weekend, he would report him missing.
On Friday night, Leisha Hamilton called. Jim felt a surge of hope when he recognized her voice. In spite of his apprehension at hearing her, he was praying that she had good news about Scott. She quickly disillusioned him of that idea.
“I just wanted to tell you that I picked Scott’s car up from ProSound Electronics. Max called me up and threatened to tow the car if I didn’t come and get it.”
Remembering Max Gianoli’s frame of mind when he talked to him on Tuesday, Jim wasn’t too surprised that the man was angry about Scott’s car being left at ProSound. On second thought, however, it seemed too soon for him to get excessively upset about the car. Max had no way of knowing Scott wouldn’t be back any minute to pick up the car. He certainly wouldn’t go away forever and leave it behind.
“When did you get the car?” Jim asked Leisha.
“Yesterday. Like I said, Max wanted it off the lot. And I have the keys, you know.”
Jim’s fear was quickly giving way to anger at the idea of this stranger driving his son’s car around, as if she owned it and not Scott.
“Are you driving the car?” he asked.
“Not much. I have my own car, but I like having Scott’s car here. It reminds me of him.”
She sounded sincere and Jim tried to control his misgivings. “Leisha, what do you think happened to Scott?”
“I really don’t know,” she said. “At first, I thought he might have run off with that Jessica. But I already called her and she hasn’t heard from him, either.”
For a couple of heartbeats, Jim was speechless. The last time they had talked, Leisha had indicated she didn’t know about Jessica. She had said there was no other woman in Scott’s life. Now, she was telling Jim she had called Jessica. He could only imagine how Jessica must have felt getting a telephone call from her. He wondered if Jessica had known about Leisha prior to Scott’s disappearance. All week, he had been trying to think of a way to find Jessica, to see if she knew what had happened to Scott. He didn’t know her last name, though, and had no way to reach her. “If you’ll give me her name and phone number, I’ll call her,” he told Leisha.
“I already told you. She doesn’t know anything.”
“Maybe she just didn’t want to talk to you. She might talk to me, though. Especially if Scott is with her.” In his heart, though, Jim had begun to fear that his son wasn’t anywhere safe. Scott absolutely would not have left his possessions behind. Unless he intended to come back soon…
“Let me give her a call,” Jim said.
“Her name’s Jessica Tate. I threw away the number, but she’s enrolled at Mississippi State. Maybe you can find her,” Leisha said grudgingly.
“Is there anyone you know who had a grudge against Scott? Anyone who might be angry at him?”