rejoined.
Weyler considered it. “You only do that if your DNA’s in the system. Otherwise, it doesn’t matter.”
“So, somebody with prior convictions, somebody smart and someone who likes to plan things out.”
“Why don’t you get a pad and write all these ideas down,” Bo said in nasty tone, “so we can make a long list and then we can solve this before lunch.”
That was it for Jane. Between jonesing for a cigarette and dealing with Bo’s dismissive manner, she’d reached her maximum capacity for arrogance. “Listen, I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here!”
Bo jerked the cigar out of his mouth. “ That is the exact attitude I saw comin’ down the pike!” He yelled, pointing over Jane’s shoulder. “There’s the door, little lady!”
“ Enough !” Weyler insisted.
“Boss, I can’t work with this!” Jane’s voice sounded almost too desperate.
Weyler realized he had to take a stand. “Bo, here’s the deal: either you back off Sergeant Perry and try to maintain civility or we walk. What’s it going to be?”
The blood drained from Bo’s face. He suddenly looked like a big kid being disciplined by the principal. Taking a nervous puff on his cigar, he moved uncomfortably in his chair and gestured with his chin to the book and card in Weyler’s hand. “So, see, that’s the first clue,” Bo said, reluctantly acquiescing.
Weyler handed Jane the envelope. The letters on the front, BAWY were written in a hesitant hand. “This looks like the way a kid writes who is just learning to hold a pen,” she mused.
“Could be right handed and he purposely used his left to disguise his handwriting,” Weyler offered.
“Yeah. What is a BAWY?”
“Maybe an acronym?” Weyler considered. Now it was Bo who was left out of the discussion.
“If it is, I’ve never heard it.” Jane tried to sound it out. “Be Aware…” She shook her head. “It’s anybody’s guess.”
Weyler slid the card out from the plastic bag and opened it. “’So sorry for your loss. JACKson sends his regards.’” Weyler compared the shaky printing from the outside of the envelope to the inside of the card and was confident the same hand wrote both. “The boy’s name is Jake. Why is he referring to him as Jackson and emphasizing the Jack ?”
Bo nervously shuffled through the papers on his desk. “Let me see here.” Spotting a bright green sheet of paper, he grabbed it and handed it to Weyler. “I had Mr. Van Gorden write down the boy’s full name. That’s what they gave me.”
Jane took a gander at the page. It read: JACKSON JAKOB VAN GORDEN . Her thoughts immediately turned to the misspelling of Jacob she’d given Betty earlier that morning. “Does he call himself Jackson?”
“10-74,” Bo said gruffly. “Parents told me that was his given name but he hated it and went by the shortened version of his middle name.”
“What’s the book?” Jane asked.
Weyler handed it to her. “ You Can’t Go Home Again by Thomas Wolfe.”
“See, You can’t go home again pretty much tells me what the kidnapper is planning for Jake,” Bo surmised.
Jane was beginning to feel into the person who had kidnapped the boy. Her prior assessment of someone who was exceptionally smart and a planner was becoming more evident now. Wolfe’s book wasn’t exactly fluffy pulp fiction. Written in the 1930s, Jane remembered reading it in a college lit course. The main character in the book, George Webber, is a writer who pens a successful novel about his family and hometown. However, when he returns to that town, he is shocked by the rebuke and outright hatred that his family and friends feel toward him for exposing their lives to strangers. The story then shifts to Webber’s life as he leaves his hometown and ventures around the world in search of his true identity. In the end, Webber returns to the United States and rediscovers his reality with both sadness and love. It’s about a man coming to
Weyler considered it. “You only do that if your DNA’s in the system. Otherwise, it doesn’t matter.”
“So, somebody with prior convictions, somebody smart and someone who likes to plan things out.”
“Why don’t you get a pad and write all these ideas down,” Bo said in nasty tone, “so we can make a long list and then we can solve this before lunch.”
That was it for Jane. Between jonesing for a cigarette and dealing with Bo’s dismissive manner, she’d reached her maximum capacity for arrogance. “Listen, I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here!”
Bo jerked the cigar out of his mouth. “ That is the exact attitude I saw comin’ down the pike!” He yelled, pointing over Jane’s shoulder. “There’s the door, little lady!”
“ Enough !” Weyler insisted.
“Boss, I can’t work with this!” Jane’s voice sounded almost too desperate.
Weyler realized he had to take a stand. “Bo, here’s the deal: either you back off Sergeant Perry and try to maintain civility or we walk. What’s it going to be?”
The blood drained from Bo’s face. He suddenly looked like a big kid being disciplined by the principal. Taking a nervous puff on his cigar, he moved uncomfortably in his chair and gestured with his chin to the book and card in Weyler’s hand. “So, see, that’s the first clue,” Bo said, reluctantly acquiescing.
Weyler handed Jane the envelope. The letters on the front, BAWY were written in a hesitant hand. “This looks like the way a kid writes who is just learning to hold a pen,” she mused.
“Could be right handed and he purposely used his left to disguise his handwriting,” Weyler offered.
“Yeah. What is a BAWY?”
“Maybe an acronym?” Weyler considered. Now it was Bo who was left out of the discussion.
“If it is, I’ve never heard it.” Jane tried to sound it out. “Be Aware…” She shook her head. “It’s anybody’s guess.”
Weyler slid the card out from the plastic bag and opened it. “’So sorry for your loss. JACKson sends his regards.’” Weyler compared the shaky printing from the outside of the envelope to the inside of the card and was confident the same hand wrote both. “The boy’s name is Jake. Why is he referring to him as Jackson and emphasizing the Jack ?”
Bo nervously shuffled through the papers on his desk. “Let me see here.” Spotting a bright green sheet of paper, he grabbed it and handed it to Weyler. “I had Mr. Van Gorden write down the boy’s full name. That’s what they gave me.”
Jane took a gander at the page. It read: JACKSON JAKOB VAN GORDEN . Her thoughts immediately turned to the misspelling of Jacob she’d given Betty earlier that morning. “Does he call himself Jackson?”
“10-74,” Bo said gruffly. “Parents told me that was his given name but he hated it and went by the shortened version of his middle name.”
“What’s the book?” Jane asked.
Weyler handed it to her. “ You Can’t Go Home Again by Thomas Wolfe.”
“See, You can’t go home again pretty much tells me what the kidnapper is planning for Jake,” Bo surmised.
Jane was beginning to feel into the person who had kidnapped the boy. Her prior assessment of someone who was exceptionally smart and a planner was becoming more evident now. Wolfe’s book wasn’t exactly fluffy pulp fiction. Written in the 1930s, Jane remembered reading it in a college lit course. The main character in the book, George Webber, is a writer who pens a successful novel about his family and hometown. However, when he returns to that town, he is shocked by the rebuke and outright hatred that his family and friends feel toward him for exposing their lives to strangers. The story then shifts to Webber’s life as he leaves his hometown and ventures around the world in search of his true identity. In the end, Webber returns to the United States and rediscovers his reality with both sadness and love. It’s about a man coming to
Similar Books
