The Widow's Cabin (Completed)

Chapter 18

“We have to find her, Hen,” I sobbed as we drove away from Rattle Snake Road. The circumstances have now changed, making me feel more immobile and useless. I was searching for answers that would lead me to my mother and ended up losing Vittoria as well. I didn’t know what to do anymore, my head was swelling with fear and questions and damned doubts. I needed to organize my thoughts, and I needed to do it quickly.

“How do we find her? Where do we start?” Hendrix asked. He was just as confused as me.

That made me silent. I didn’t know where to begin.

“Do you have her home number?” He asked.

“No. No I don’t,” I answered.

“What about her school? We can start there.”

“I… I don’t know that either.”

“Well, her last name then. That’ll help a lot.”

“I don’t know, Hen. It seems like I don’t know anything about her at all,” I answered, sounding defeated.

Silence. I sensed that Hendrix had a lot of questions in mind, but maybe he decided not to ask. It wasn’t the perfect time to play blame games.

“We can search the internet. Type in her first name then her place of birth. It’ll narrow everything down,” Hendrix suggested.

“That’s a good idea. Take us to my house. We can work there.”

“Yes, sir,” Hendrix answered.

I fired up my laptop as soon as we arrived. I let Hendrix do the searching and typing while I sat on my bed like a useless rag.

“Four hits for Vittoria living in Palms Town.”

“Good. Narrow it down for me, will you?” I answered.

“Sure.”

Five minutes passed when Hendrix tapped my shoulder.

“One is forty-two years old, has two kids and a dead husband. I’m pretty sure this isn’t the Vittoria that we’re looking for, so I’m going to cross her out,” He said.

“What about the others?” I asked eagerly.

“Three of them have Facebook accounts. All teenagers. One public and two private accounts. All of which have pictures on them, but I couldn’t possibly know which one is which because I never got to see her in the first place.”

“Just gather all the information you can get. Last name, home numbers, mobile numbers, complete addresses.”

“There are no complete addresses on Facebook, Cal. Just last names and home numbers,” He explained.

“Okay, get everything you can. We’ll call each one of them,” I said.

“Let me get a pen and a paper. We need to write everything down,” He answered.

I listened as he walked around the room, opening and closing drawers endlessly. He found nothing, partly because I don’t really keep a lot of pens and loose papers in my room, and partly because I don’t need them anymore with what the accident did to me.

“Try my dad’s room. I’m sure you’ll find one,” I suggested.

Hendrix came back a few minutes later. I noticed his pace was different, a lot different from the purposeful, determined walk that I kept hearing a while ago.

“Did you find what you need?” I asked.

“Sure.” He answered.

“Hen? What’s wrong?”

“I… I was looking for a piece of paper. But everything on your dad’s desk seemed important so I didn’t bother touching them. I went for his drawers and found this.”

He handed me something that seemed like news paper.

“What is this?” I asked.

“It’s a news clipping. From seven years ago.”

I didn’t understand how the news clipping had something to do with what was going on.

“So?” I asked.

“Let me read it for you,” He answered.

I kept my mouth shut and taut as I listened to every word he said.