Finding Jake

Finding Jake Read Online Free PDF Page B

Book: Finding Jake Read Online Free PDF
Author: Bryan Reardon
Tags: Fiction, Literary, Suspense, Psychological, Retail
Phil, my chest out. I almost step on his foot.
    “It’s okay,” Phil assures, looking up at me, taking a step back. I know it isn’t, though. “I just needed to speak with you. As a precaution, I’ve reached out to the elementary school. You might remember that all of the children were fingerprinted back then, in case of abduction.”
    My head spins. “Abduction?”
    “I know. It was a long time ago,” he says.
    “What are you talking about?” I snap.
    “Just a precaution. Anyway, I wondered if you would be willing to sign a release. Seems the local authorities never received Jake’s card from the school. This will allow us to send it to them. Is that something you will do?”
    “Sure,” I say.
    The release dangles from a clipboard. Phil holds it on his lap as I sign. When I look up, he is staring at me in an odd way. My eyes narrow and he looks away. I notice his hand trembling.
    “Thanks,” he mutters, getting up to leave.
    “Is there any word on Jake? Do you know anything?”
    He does not turn. “Not yet.”
    Phil walks out the front door, the first person to do that since I arrived. It seems too familiar to me, and the first suspicion creeps intomy mind. Prints are used to identify bodies. Or to investigate crimes.
    “No,” I whisper.
    One of the parents, a mom I do not know, cringes and moves farther down the pew, away from me. It seems I am a disease, and I am spreading.

CHAPTER 5
    JAKE: AGE THREE YEARS, FIVE MONTHS
    We were forty-five minutes north of Rachel’s parents’ beach house when Laney began to scream. Born with an ear-shattering, James Brown–like wail, no one could ignore our daughter when she let loose.
    “What could it be?” I asked.
    Rachel sounded exhausted. “Don’t know. Maybe her diaper.”
    Before deciding to make the two-hour trip to the shore, we debated whether a four-month-old and a long drive mixed. At that moment, my ears believed not so much.
    I pulled the car into a church parking lot directly off the highway. Rachel jumped out and checked Laney, but her diaper was fine. Once out of her car seat, our daughter quieted down. When we decided to start back up, everything seemed okay. Not one hundred yards down the highway, however, Laney began to scream again.
    After ten minutes, Jake, his hands over his ears, had had enough.
    “Maybe she hates the beach?”
    A three-year-old’s innocuous question rocked my world. Not borna beach person? Something about the ocean, the salty air, or maybe the calming sound of the surf bored deeply into my soul the first time Rachel took me to her parents’ place. I felt more myself there than anywhere else. I think my reaction was one of the reasons she ended up marrying me.
    In fact, I asked Rachel to marry me one night as we walked along the beach. Having dated for only ten months, the question popped out spontaneously (meaning no ring). As she looked out at the ocean and pointed out sparkling mermaids capping the distant waves, I dropped to a knee.
    “Will you marry me?”
    Rachel looked down, her eyes at once surprised and expectant. She took mere seconds to decide.
    “Yes.”
    I think my head bobbed back. “Are you sure?”
    She nodded.
    “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you.”
    She laughed. Somehow, she, too, read my thoughts. This was no second-guessing, it was simply my nature. At the time, Rachel had just celebrated her twenty-fourth birthday.
    We laughed and held hands, walking the beach for another hour. We spoke, but our words held little importance. Instead, we settled into the new reality of being engaged.
    Back at the house, we slipped into the bedroom Rachel shared with her sister-in-law who was drinking wine with the rest of the crew on the back porch. Rachel climbed into bed and I leaned in close. My stomach tied in knots.
    “Are you sure?”
    “I am,” she answered, her eyes as bright as the full moon outside the bedroom window.
    “Should we tell everyone?” I whispered.
    “Tomorrow,” she
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