I drove like a ghost to Charlottesville, not even remembering driving past anything. No signs, no buildings, no fields. I just knew that I drove. Almost like a habit pattern, only I had never driven here before.
I thought about revenge and worried about what I was doing. It’s no big deal. I’m just going over to talk to him. To see if he really did kill my dad. I looked at the bag containing my weapons. You’re just using them to defend yourself and scare him if he feels like running away. It was not going to be a problem. Nothing to worry about, I could control myself. I looked over at the bag again.
God, Eryn. Pull yourself together. You can’t back out now, you’re already in Charlottesville.
I looked around as I continued just in case he was out and about getting gas or something. Not with my luck. Besides, the sunlight began to fade and the likelihood of finding him in the dark was slim.
I’d have to be patient.
I decided to drive awhile longer so I didn’t raise the suspicion of Charlottesville residents. Past the city, I found a really small, deserted town just west. I parked in the back of a building that housed a dingy FOR LEASE sign in the window. I darted my eyes back and forth to see if anyone else was around. Not a person, car, or a police officer in sight. I’d be fine for the night. I climbed into the back of Neil’s car so I had more space to be comfortable. I started to make a bed for myself when I heard my phone vibrating in the bag.
The caller ID read Neil. If I refused to answer, Neil would call my uncle and I couldn’t have that. Not now.
I put the phone to my ear. “Hi, Neil.”
“I told you that I would call.” He said from the other line.
“I’m very excited that you trust me enough to tell me what you are doing on this top secret mission of yours.”
“I’m fine, Neil.”
“Yeah. You don’t have to lie to me you know.”
Oh, but I did. I said nothing.
“Your mom’s kinda worried. She called here.”
“Don’t go all FBI on me, Eryn, I was just letting you know.” He told me, sounding defensive. “Why can’t you tell me?”
I ignored him. I couldn’t take the risk that he would tell Joe if I told him. “What did you say to my mom?”
“I told her that you wanted to get away for a few days and that you’d be back ready to work things out.”
I groaned. “Neil, you really said it like that?”
“Very similar, yes. She will be ready to talk about feelings immediately upon your return. I know how much you love emotions and how well you handle them too.”
“Did you want me to lie or something? ‘Cause you should have said so before.”
“No, that’s fine. Thanks.”
“Well, I have to go, Eryn. I have that paper for Ferg’s to write. I’ll call again soon.”
Looking forward to it. “Okay, Neil. Bye.” I pressed end and turned off my phone, preventing future disruptions. I tried to sleep. Eliciting a confession would take some energy. Especially someone bigger than me and who had two capable arms. Because he didn’t sustain any major injuries from the crash, I reminded myself. Anger boiled again, deep inside. Now, my stomach hurt.
I lied down, taking the gun with me. I needed a weapon just in case. Maybe I’d be able to sleep if I slept with it. I had no reason to be so freaked out. If I was only able to sleep because I had a gun in my hand then I had some serious issues.
I turned my attention to my plan for tomorrow. Go to his work place. Wait for him to be done with work (I hoped he worked on Sundays; I didn’t have his current place of residence) and follow him back to his house. From there it gets tricky. I had to get him to let me in his house and pull the gun on him. Find out if he did kill Dad (he should answer truthfully if he’s got a gun to his head) and take the recording of his confession to D.C. Hand him over to the police. I’d have the whole conversation recorded for evidence and Uncle Joe couldn’t tell me that it was not true then.
I replayed it over and over in my head to make sure that there wasn’t anything major that could screw this up and what I would do if he didn’t let me in or he overpowered me. He shouldn’t be able to recognize me. During the accident my face was so filled with blood…he wouldn’t suspect anything just because I have one arm, would he? I genuinely believed that I’d be able to pull this off. I had to be able to. I needed the truth. He had to have killed him on purpose. The connection between my dad and Dwelling was just too coincidental, plus the way the accident happened just didn’t make sense unless it was planned.
Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll find him. He’ll be brought to justice. Everything will be okay like you said.
Everything would be okay. I just wished I believed that.