#3 Turn Up for Real (11 page)

“Hey, Slade. When we going to the studio?” Charlotte asked me later that day, for the fourth day in a row.

“I don't know. I've been trying to get in touch with Avery, but he hasn't called me back. This is so unlike him.”

“Yeah, that's your boo, right?” Charlotte teased.

“I don't know about all that, but I definitely thought he liked me, Charlotte. Now he's not even returning my calls. I'm trying to give him some work … I don't know. Just seems a little shady,” I voiced in an irritated tone.

Calmly she asked, “Do you know where he lives?”

“I don't, but I know where his mom works.”

“Duh, if you're really concerned, you need to head over there.”

When we hung up the phone, I knew Charlotte was right. What she didn't know that I knew was that Avery was mixed up with some salty jokers. It had been days since I tried to get him. The fact that he hadn't called me back was extremely alarming. I just couldn't sit back and pray that everything would be okay. I had to put some action behind what I was thinking and investigate.

I had to be smart about this. I had gotten out the house without worrying my family. They thought I was just going to the mall to find a cute outfit for the photo shoot, but I drove straight to the theater.

A car was around back. I hoped it belonged to his mother. I didn't want to alarm her. I needed to be careful to make sure that I just asked for Avery. If he was alright and just had a change of heart about wanting to pursue a relationship with me, then I needed to deal with that. I could be a big girl and move on if need be. I had given Taylor that same talk, and I was not above taking in the good advice. I had too much self-esteem to even be thinking about chasing down a brother, but I did need closure.

When I got inside, I found his mom pacing back and forth in the same office where I had seen her earlier in the month. She was also shaking. Before I could speak to her, she started dialing the phone.

She cried out, “Avery, son, why didn't you come home last night? Please call me. I'm going out of my mind.”

At that moment, it was confirmed I did have something to worry about. I felt sick to my stomach, like I had been poisoned. Now I was shaking.

“Ms. Hardy,” I said as I stepped into view.

“Yes, may I help you?”

I hesitated. “I'm, I'm friends with your son.”

“You know where he is?” she asked.

“Well, I wasn't trying to be nosy, but it appears he's missing.”

“I know that. I'm asking if you know where he is … wait,” she said as she squinted my way, “Where do I know you from?”

“At the pageant. I was the one that was back here,” I told her, not trying to spend much time on the past as we needed every second to find Avery.

“Oh my gosh, you sure were. You were listening in that day, and it seems like you're listening in now.”

“Because I'm concerned about your son, and I didn't want to alarm you or tell …” I cut myself off, not wanting to speculate that Boots had him.

“What do you know? Just spit it out. I haven't seen him all night! What do you know?” she drilled.

Taking a deep breath, I said, “I don't know for sure, but I was working with him on a demo, and we went to some house, and the guys there were the same guys who said he owed them money that day.”

“Where's this house?” she asked in a panic.

Thinking back I said, “I put the location in the GPS when I left, so it's in my car.”

“Great, I'll follow you,” Ms. Hardy said as she went to grab her purse and coat.

I cautioned, “It's not the kind of place we want to show up just you and me.”

Exhaling she said, “My friend is a cop. You stand right there, I'm going to call him.”

While I didn't think I needed to pray earlier, now that I truly believed Avery was at that house, prayer was the only thing that could help him. Those guys were crazy, and they had it in for him. If he didn't have their money, it might already be too late.

“Sam! You've got to meet me at this house. This friend of Avery's thinks she knows where he is … No, no, I'm going to leave now. I can't sit here and wait,” his mom said.

“We should wait,” I said, reemphasizing that I didn't want the two of us to go there without backup.

His mom might be all big and bad. However, seeing that I remembered her being restrained as the same guys were roughly handling her, she should know we were no match for them alone. I wasn't moving without real backup.

“Okay, okay,” she said to me. Then she talked back into the receiver. “Hurry up, Sam.”

She hung up the phone. “He said he'll be here in ten minutes, and then we can follow you. I can't believe my son was taking you to these guys' house.”

I wanted to tell her it wasn't a great experience, but she was already worried enough. The fifteen minutes we had to wait for Sam to show up seemed like an hour, but finally he arrived. He wanted me to give him the address, but Ms. Hardy said we'd already wasted too much time waiting for him. He explained that they would be right behind me and once we got to the house I didn't need to park close.

When I got in my car, I programed the GPS to take me to the previous destination. I realized this was serious, and my dad deserved to know where I was going. On the way I called him.

“Hey, pumpkin. Your mom told me you were at the mall. You'll be home for dinner soon? I'm not there yet, but I have a lot of good stuff to tell everyone,” my dad said in a chipper mood.

Struggling not to mess up his day, I barely breathed, “Daddy…”

“Yeah?”

“I'm scared.”

“Of what? It doesn't matter what happens with the election, we gave our best go at it. You don't have to worry about whether I lose, or win for that matter. It's in God's hands.”

“No, no, Daddy. Remember when I was in the pageant? The guy that you saw me with? You told me to not mess with him anymore? Well, I messed with him again.”

“What are you talking about, Slade?”

“Well I mean … he owes these guys some money, and I think he's in trouble. I'm on my way to this house with his mom and this cop and …”

“You're on your way where?” my dad yelled, not happy for sure. “Give me the address right now! And don't you even go in there, girl. You aren't anybody's private investigator.”

“But he's my friend, Dad!”

“You don't need to go at all.”

“Dad, you're just going to have to be angry with me because I'm going over there. I'm really, really worried about him.”

“What if you get killed too?”

“Dad, just come. I'll text you the address,” I said before hanging up.

My cell rang and rang. It was my father calling back. I knew I was going against his wishes, but I wanted him to know I didn't want him to stop me. I needed him to help. I texted him the address when I was at a stoplight, and then I proceeded to help my guy.

An hour and a half later, there was a major police operation going on at the house in question. Sam snooped around and found enough probable cause to get other officers out there. Drugs were being sold on the property, but Ms. Hardy was all stressed out because while the cops were bringing bad guys out, Avery was still nowhere to be found.

Boots was brought out in handcuffs, and she rushed up to him and started pounding on his chest.

“Where's my son? Where's my son? What have you done with my son?” she shouted.

Sam tried to pull her away.

“You got my money?” Boots rudely said to her.

“No!” she shouted, still distraught.

“Then I don't know what you're talking about.”

And the police carried him away.

“Oh my gosh, Daddy, what if they killed him?” I said to my father, who wouldn't let me get anywhere near the house.

Suddenly, gunshots were fired inside the house. When someone within it yelled for the police to get back, my dad really became concerned and told me not to move. Then he rushed toward the back of the house.

I screamed out, “Daddy! Daddy!”

With the gunshots coming from the police outside and from someone else inside, I could only hope my dad didn't get mixed in the cross-fire. About fifteen minutes later, media trucks were surrounding us.

Sam yelled out, “Hold your fire! We're coming out. Call for an ambulance. We've got one badly wounded.”

The moment was chaotic. My dad came out of the house with two other guys who dropped their guns as soon as they stepped outside. My dad brought them over to law enforcement.

A reporter rushed past me and stepped to my father. “Mr. Sharp, you're running for mayor, but we didn't know you spent any time with the police academy.”

My dad, walking to me, uttered, “I haven't.”

The reporter would not move out of his way. “What made you get in the middle of a gun shoot-out? What you did was really, really dangerous. Why would you do something so foolhardy?”

“Just didn't want any more young men losing their lives to gun violence. I asked them if I could talk to them. They said yes, and the rest is history.”

“What would you have done if they would have shot you?”

“I guess I wouldn't be running for mayor,” he joked. “But I believe in all the citizens of Charlotte, even the ones who have lost their way. I was here and had to help.”

All the attention turned to Sam, who was carrying a badly beaten person in his arms. Blood was dripping profusely. From my distance, I couldn't tell if he was shot or if he was just plain beaten up. But whatever he was wearing, Ms. Hardy recognized it.

“My baby, my baby!” She pushed through the cops and ran toward her son.

“I need paramedics!” Sam called out.

The medics rushed to get Avery on a stretcher. My dad wasn't there to hold me back anymore, but I didn't want the cops to stop me either, so I ran to Avery. One of his eyes was completely shut. The other was barely open. His face looked unrecognizable.

“I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry,” he said in an altered voice that sounded painful.

His mother looked over at me and smiled. “If she wouldn't have told us where you were, Avery, they could have killed you.”

Getting upset as he saw me so distraught, he said again, “I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay, baby. It's okay,” she said. I knew he was sorry I was brought back there for another horrific encounter.

I guess my face said it all. I was so devastated to see him that way. My eyes were puffy too, and I was crying.

“Slade …”

“Shh! Don't talk,” I said to him.

“Thank you,” he uttered, as a teardrop fell from his one opened eye.

My dad came near us, and I said, “Thank my dad.”

Avery uttered, “Sir, I'm, I'm …”

My dad touched his shoulder to ease him from talking and said, “Young man, I don't know what you're mixed up in.”

“I owed 'em, sir. Just wanted to catch 'em doing what they do. They … they caught me,” Avery talked anyway, though he could barely get words out.

My father said, “Whatever you were trying to do might have seemed good in theory, but nothing is worth losing your life. You're too young to be caught up with these guys anyway. I hope you young people get it. There is just no get-rich-quick scheme.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

SUPERSTAR

“Avery! It's you! Oh my gosh are you okay?” I said into the receiver the next day, happy that he dialed my phone.

“Yeah, I'm alright. I'm back home. Just had some stitches and and a lot of bruises. They didn't even keep me overnight at the hospital. I hope your dad is not too mad at me. He's really the hero.”

“Yeah …” I said, proud of my father.

Candidate Stanley Sharp had been all over the news the last twenty-four hours. My dad's campaign manager was saying he was going to win for sure. Over the last three months, he was the big hit at three big news stations. In August, he revealed that unlike his opponent, he was going to work to rid the city of domestic violence. In September, he helped to reveal that at a foster care house, the person in charge was taking advantage of the kids in state care. Now, he helped bust a big drug house.