My body went into defensive mode, never taking my eyes off of him. Each time we come into contact, it is not pleasant, but I'm pretty sure I know the reason for his visit. He must have found out somehow about my impromptu visit to his son. Wow, news travels fast. Squaring my shoulders, I respond with a sarcastic tone because I'm tired of dealing with him. My mouth didn't get the message—dangerous or not.
"What can I do for you, sheriff?"
"We need to talk about the little trip you took this morning. You don't listen very well."
"I don't see where I go is any of your business."
"I told you to leave my son alone and let all of this go, but no, you just do whatever you want." His face was turning red, and the vein in his neck was popping out as he spoke the words. I was afraid his head would explode. The hate vibrated off of him and surrounded me.
"I didn't do anything wrong, sheriff," I spat out.
"This is your last warning, little girl." his condescending tone gave me mixed emotions; anger and fear became one.
"I would appreciate it if you left my property now, sheriff," I said, hoping he would take the hint and leave.
"You have three days to give me the papers you found, or I promise life will get worse for you," he threatened and walked closer to me. His closeness made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. He was dangerous, and I knew that, but right now I just needed him to go away from me.
"I'm not scared of you, and next time you set foot on property, make sure you come with a warrant," I was hoping he didn't hear the trembling in my voice.
"Don't contact my son again. He has nothing to do with that Catalano girl or her parents. She was a tramp who tried to trick my son." He gritted out, his words feeling like a slap to the face.
"Leave now, Sheriff!" I yelled; by now, my whole body was shaking. I'm not sure if it was fear or anger that caused it; all I knew was that I didn't feel safe around him. Quickly grabbing the bags off the driveway, I sprinted to the front door. Once inside, I slammed it shut and locked it. Sheriff Dawson's actions only solidified my feelings toward him – he was dangerous and no good. Leaning against the door, I took a moment for myself before joining Zeke back in the living room.
"Who was outside?" Zeke asked.
"Just the sheriff telling me off about tracking down his son. He just gave me the normal warnings. No big deal," I said, trying to play it off like it was no big deal. Zeke didn't need to worry about anything more than what he already is.
"This is why I told you not to go see anybody or do anything without me." He breathed out a long breath of frustration as he uttered the words.
"Why Z? He would have yelled and threatened me no matter what," I exclaimed.
Trying to calm the situation, Zeke suggested we watch a movie, and I agreed. The rest of the day seemed to go smoothly. The glass in the front window had been replaced, and we spent the rest of the night relaxing on the couch watching TV.
We ended up falling asleep in the living room. Z is on the couch, and I am in the recliner. The next morning, we were awoken by someone pounding on the front door. Stretching as I got up from the recliner and headed to the front door, with Zeke's eyes watching my every move.
"Hold on, I'm coming," I yelled at whoever was behind the door. At first, my whole body hesitated to open it, afraid of what might be on the other side. Grabbing the handle, I swung the door open and was shocked by who was staring back at me. Andrew Dawson was on my doorstep.
"Hello, Roxanne, may I come in?" he asked.
"O-o-of course," I stuttered. Swinging the door wider, I motioned for him to come in and follow me to the living room, where Zeke waited. "Please sit. This is Zeke." After introductions, I motioned for him to sit in the recliner while I sat beside Zeke.
"Nice to meet you, Zeke; I'm Andrew Dawson," he says, extending his hand for Zeke to shake. Zeke takes Andrew's hand.
Feeling nervous and unsure, I clear my throat before asking Andy, "Why are you here? Yesterday, you made it clear you didn't want to be involved."
"True," he replied. "But after talking to my wife and giving it some thought, we decided we would like to know the truth too." I listened intently as he continued with tears in my eyes, "I loved Amber. I would like to know what happened to her and my baby. My father was never helpful, and we never saw eye to eye on my relationship with her."
"Oh, he's not my biggest fan either. In fact, he stopped by yesterday and screamed at me. He's not happy that I contacted you." Andrew looked upset at my words. I wasn't sure if I made the right decision by inviting him into our house, but I wanted to hear him out. To see if he was sincere.
"What did he say to you? Did he threaten you?" he asked, full of concern.
"Kind of," I explained. "He wants me to give him any documents I've found since we moved in."
Zeke, who had been quiet during the exchange, finally spoke up and asked, "Are you here to help Rocky figure out if Amber Catalano is her mom, or did you come to help your father?"
Andrew's expression grew serious, "I moved two towns over to escape my old man; I'm not here in any way to help him. Let's get that straight." His answer surprised me because he seemed offended we would think he was helping Sheriff Dawson in any way.
"We're not sure who to trust," Zeke stated. "My only goal is to keep her safe and help her figure this mystery out."
Grabbing my wallet, I pulled out a photo of my mom and me, taken a year before she died, and handed it to Andrew, who looked at the picture and then back at me.
"That's my Amber, my sweet girl," he says lovingly, looking at the picture, running his finger over my mom's face. "She looks older in this one. Where did you get it?"
"That's my mom, a year before she passed away from cancer," she said. Andrew's gaze quickly shifted towards me.
"She passed away? No, that can't be possible. This is some kind of joke," he put his head and his hands and shook his head in disbelief.
"Look, Andrew, all I know is my mom was scared of someone or something. She would never answer questions about her family or my father. She said it was safer if I didn't know," I explained, placing my hand on his arm. "Please help me figure this one mystery out so I can find out what happened to my family."
He shakes his head up and down, indicating he would help. A wave of happiness swept over me. "Thank you, thank you so much," was my response to his help. He had already made an appointment for a DNA lab nearest him, so that no one in Sugar Creek would know, they hoped. Standing to leave, Andrew looked over at them.
"After the test tomorrow, my wife and I would love to take you both to lunch if you're free?" he asked.
"If Zeke feels up to it tomorrow, we will take you up on that offer." He had just gotten hurt, and I didn't want him to exert himself further.
"Quit worrying, baby; you know I'm not going to sit around the house. I'm going with you." There was no point in fighting with him. He was as stubborn as I was. Walking Andrew to his car, he hugged me before leaving.
That night, we made do by sleeping in the living room again. It wasn't a good place to sleep, but we managed to create a comfortable enough space because Zeke still couldn't climb the stairs for another couple of days. A sense of eeriness hung in the air throughout the rest of the house, as the lights kept shutting on and off. We haven't heard any unusual sounds, nor have we experienced any strange happenings, and even the dreams have stopped. It was a welcome change. Hopefully, it would stay like that, but it never does. We wait, anticipating the next incident.
The next day, as we got ready to leave, I couldn't hide my excitement. I was finally going to get answers to a couple of my questions. After eating breakfast, we headed out towards Andrews town for the test. Although I was excited, I couldn't help but feel sad my mom couldn't be here to be a part of this moment. Today was a big step for me in seeking out the truth of my family. The hour-long drive to the hospital seemed to fly by, and before we knew it, we had arrived at the parking lot for the testing center.
Zekes' concerns didn't go unnoticed by me as he turned my direction and asked, "Are you ready for this baby?".
Taking a deep breath, I replied, "Actually, I'm fine. I've been waiting so long for these answers. I'm feeling excited and relieved. I'm not upset, I promise." To my surprise, it was the truth. I felt a sense of calm washing over me.
The testing process was swift. The technician took a cheek swab from both Andrew and me, then informed us we would receive the results within the next three weeks. Afterward, we spent a relaxing afternoon with Andrew and his wife, Sharon. His wife was thrilled at the possibility of my being Andrew's daughter. She was never able to have children, and thought it was wonderful to welcome me as her own. This made me feel better. Zeke tried to temper my expectations by cautioning me to wait until we received the results, so that none of us would get heartbroken.
While we waited for the test results, we had another issue that terrified us. The three-day deadline Sheriff Dawson had imposed has passed without any further incidents. Each day, I felt more and more on edge. The sheriff wasn't one to make empty threats. It kept us wondering when and where he would retaliate. Every sound or shadow made me jump; we didn't let our guard down once.
To keep my mind off of everything going on, I reached for Amber's journal, which had become a helpful resource in understanding her mom and the dynamics of her family. Hopefully, it would lead to a clue about their disappearance. Holding the journal tight in my hands, I took a moment to appreciate the worn cover, how its edges frayed from so many times it had been opened and closed. Running my fingers along the spine, feeling the creases and indentations that have formed over the years. Taking a deep breath, I open the journal to where I had left off previously, eager to continue the journey through my mother's eyes.
Dear Diary,
My father, without talking to us, has decided that Andy and I will be giving our baby up for adoption. He thinks it's for the best, but Andy and I really want to keep her. He thinks we're too young to take care of an infant, but I know I can handle it. How can I give up my precious daughter? I love her so much already. My mom's not much help; she seems to agree with him. I am not due for another five months and must try to change their minds. Any advice on how to convince them we can handle this big responsibility?
Andy said that if we can't change their mind, we'll have to take the baby and run away. He's been working really hard at his uncle's autobody shop, taking extra shifts after school and on weekends. We hardly get to see each other, but he visits when he can. It's a bit tricky because my parents don't want me around him. He usually climbs the tree near my bedroom window. We talk about the baby and our plans for the future. Sometimes, he even puts his head on my stomach and talks to her! It's so cute.
Andy told me he is not telling his parents because they don't deserve to know. He didn't give me any details, but I trust his judgment. I think he's trying to keep us all safe. He also said that I should stay away from his dad and that if I see him on the street, I should walk the other way. Apparently, he doesn't want his dad to know about Roxanne!
Oh, one last thing. You won't believe what Donovan and I found. We snuck into our dad's office and found these backpacks. There was one for each of us. Can you guess what was inside? Cash and passports for the whole family! But get this, all our last names are different. Not only that, but there were also birth certificates and Social Security cards in each bag. Donovan looked super scared and made me swear not to tell anyone about what we found. Weird, right?
As always, thanks for listening, diary.