Tell My Dad (21 page)

Harrison laughed. He forgot the intense pain in his abdomen for a few seconds. He had not laughed heartily for years.

Maya looked up and smiled wryly as he laughed.

He wiped away tears of joy and called Russell Edison. He spoke for a few minutes. He paused for a second to control his breathing before concluding the conversation. “I may not see you again. Thank you, Russell. Good-bye.” He ended the call without waiting for a reply.

Two minutes later, Harrison took a deep breath as he heard the police sirens in the distance.

“I think the cops are almost here. They may be storming in. Don’t be scared, okay? Just stay on the couch. Remember, your mom is right. You are a very brave girl. Got it?”

Maya nodded slightly without lifting her head off his shoulder.

Harrison felt his heartbeat slowing down. His feet were cold. He saw Taryn holding April’s hand. He was calm and peaceful now.

He held the pendant in his right palm and smiled at April’s picture. Then, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

I
t was
fifteen minutes past seven o’clock in the evening. Sheriff Scarski adjusted the brim of his glasses and stared at the dead man lying close to the back door, in the middle of dark blood. Then, he looked up at the dim light at the entrance of the barn visible through the window before turning to Agent Theaker and Samantha Cruz. “These bastards did all these horrible things right under our nose. We missed it. I feel terrible.” His voice reflected sincere apology.

Theaker nodded without saying a word. He spoke after a brief moment. “I have seen horrible crimes in the last fifteen years, but this—this is the worst, cruelest. These bastards are animals. They tortured these girls—one of them is just four.” He sighed and turned to see Agent Jones on his right.

“Sorry, I was tied up in North Bay. What exactly happened here? Twelve girls were locked up here?” Jones leaned against the bar stool, shook his head, and threw up his hands.

“Yes. Twelve girls, including Emily Turner, the girl who was kidnapped in Foster City... Here is what happened. This guy—” Theaker pointed at the man facing the ceiling with his dead eyes, “Bob McFarlane—this guy’s father worked for that man.” Now, he pointed at the man riding an Arabian horse in the large portrait hung on the wall. “That man is none other than Gary Erskine, a multimillionaire, who made his fortune in horse racing and cattle farming. Bob’s father worked for Erskine’s cattle farm in San Fernando. Bob’s parents were killed in the earthquake in 1971. He was fifteen by then. Erskine brought the young boy into his fold and brought him here to take care of the horses.”

Jones raised his hand. “How do we know all this?”

“Well, come here…” Theaker signaled Jones as he walked over to his right and pointed at the pale-brown notebooks spread on the dining table. “These are all diaries…Bob McFarlane’s diaries. Samantha found these in his closet. I read only part of it. Anyways, Gary Erskine’s son and daughter-in-law died in an Air France accident in Paris in 1989. The couple had a son, Thomas Erskine, who was five at that time. A year later, Gary Erskine died. Since then, Bob has been the guardian for Thomas.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “Thomas was diagnosed with a growth disorder. Bob treated Thomas like his own son—well, I guess all this wealth helped along with his loyalty.” He looked at the barn before adding, “Bob was teaching Thomas to ride when he was seventeen. An Arabian horse, the favorite horse of his grandfather, rolled over on young Thomas and crushed his legs. Bob got so pissed off that he shot all the horses and buried them under the barn.”

He took a deep breath. “Then, he did something unthinkable. Walk with me; you need to see this.”

Jones, Cruz and Scarski followed Theaker, who passed two doors on his left and opened the third door. “Thomas was thirty-one, but look at all these costumes,” he said as he opened the wooden almirah. “The guy wore a Superman costume and forced the girls to wear Rapunzel costumes while he raped them. Sick bastard.” He kicked the empty mattress on his right in sheer anger and frustration. “He was infatuated with young girls. He behaved and acted like a young boy stuck in his teens due to his mental disorder. Apparently, he wanted to
grow up
with the girls before marrying them.” He shook his head in disgust. “Bob McFarlane fueled Thomas Erskine’s fantasy by kidnapping the girls and fed his need for dominance. These snakes spit their venom on so many innocent girls.”

* * *

R
ussell Edison replayed
the phone conversation he had had with Harrison as he drove toward Atherton.
Harry was here the whole time?
He shook his head in disbelief.

An hour later, he pulled into the circular driveway before a Victorian house in Atherton. The house looked smaller compared to the mansions owned by dot-com billionaires surrounding it. Two police vehicles were parked on the side, and a black Chevy Tahoe with an FBI decal was parked closer to the front entrance.

Russell parked his Lexus behind the FBI vehicle, took a deep breath, and looked at the dark, cloudy sky above.
Please God, let him be alive.

As he walked into the hallway and to the living room, he spotted the two agents who were combing through the bookshelves on the right side wall. A giant Buddha statue in the middle of the living room smiled at him. To his right, an agent with a dark-blue FBI coat raised his brow as he came down the stairs.

“I am here to meet with Agent Theaker. Harrison asked me to come here.” Russell took a sleek business card from his coat pocket and handed it to the agent.

“I’m Theaker.” The agent shook his hand.

“Is Harrison alive? Where is he?” Russell was anxious.

Theaker folded his lips and shook his head sideways. “Sorry. Harrison is dead.”

Russell clutched his chest, walked slowly toward the small couch on his right, and lowered himself onto the couch as he sobbed. Theaker sat next to him and spoke after a minute. “Harrison asked you to meet with me?”

Russell nodded as he wiped away his tears. “Yes. I have been his friend since college days. Poor Harry went through a lot of tragedies. Taryn, his wife, was killed in the September Eleventh terrorist attack. His daughter, April, was kidnapped and killed in 2004.” He felt a lump in his throat and struggled to speak.

“April Azevedo?” Theaker widened his eyes in sadness. “I was the lead investigator in her kidnapping. Her death saddened me beyond words.” He paused for a moment. “I remember talking to April’s father. The man I knew was very different from the man I found today.”

Russell took a deep breath and nodded. “Harry is a gentleman. He did not hurt anyone. He was so kind. But—” He sobbed. “Tragedy struck him twice. After April was gone, he was devastated. He could not focus on the company, Yosemite Networks, he founded. He promoted me as CEO and left the country. He is still the biggest shareholder of the company. But we had no idea where he was.”

He stared at the Buddha statue and continued, “A year after he left, he called me from Tibet. He became a Buddhist monk. All these years, we have been communicating through Skype and emails. He was in Tibet for many years, India for a couple of years, and then Israel.” He took a deep breath. “But I didn’t know he had come back to the United States. All of us thought that he was still somewhere in Asia.”

He took a minute to compose himself and said, “Harrison called me three hours ago. I was in an offsite meeting in Monterey. He told me that his time had come. He gave me the address of this house and asked me to come here to meet with you. He told me that he had prepared something for the FBI. It should be here…” He walked closer to the Buddha statue, pushed a bronze button on the side, pulled a rusted copper door below the statue, and found a white DVD sleeve. “For the FBI” was written on the DVD.

A few minutes later, Theaker pushed the DVD into his Mac laptop and watched Harrison appearing on the screen. He had a clean-shaven head and sad, reddish eyes as if he had not slept for weeks. He looked straight at the camera.

“If you are watching this, I am dead. I should have been dead a long time ago—when Taryn died. I wanted to live because of my little angel. She was also taken from me by a cruel bastard.” He looked up at the ceiling and paused for a few seconds. “I had no reason to live after April was gone. I went all over the world searching for the meaning of this life. I spent six years in Tibet. One day, I determined that what happened to April should not happen to other children. I decided to do what you guys…” He pointed at the camera. “…you guys—FBI, cops, law enforcement, and the justice system—failed to do.”

Russell looked at Theaker, who was staring at the screen.

“Why it is so difficult to stop child abductions in this country?” He paused. “
Because
there is no serious punishment for these crimes. All these criminals should be killed as soon as they are caught. Not just killed, they should be tortured and killed just the way these bastards killed the young, innocent children. Each and every child killer out there should realize there is a serious punishment for their crimes. Even the thought of abducting children should send a chill up their spines. They should feel the fear.
Then only
, they will stop. This menace will stop.” His piercing eyes stared at the camera.

“I decided to serve justice. Not just that, I decided to prevent the crime before it happened. I spent many years preparing myself for that. I learned martial arts from the monks in Tibet. I spent two years in Israel to learn Krav Maga and weapons. I became a one-man army and came back here two years ago. I trolled underground websites and found the pedophiles, and I took them out one by one. I do not have the count of how many crooks I took off the street. That count goes up every week, unfortunately. However…it’s not a question of how many crooks I killed; it’s a question of how many young children I saved. I wish that every parent who lost their children to the monsters would
do something
to teach a lesson to those monsters.”

Harrison stood up and stopped the recording.

T
hank
you for taking the time to read this book. If you liked it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review in one of the following: Amazon, Goodreads, iBooks or Nook. Word of mouth is an author's best friend and much appreciated.

R
am
Muthiah