Chapter 46
It was warmer in North Carolina, but the wind blew hard, sending a shiver down Celia’s back. She’d expected never to see Teresa again after she left André. She hoped Teresa understood why she left without saying goodbye and why she hadn’t sent any pictures of the baby.
Now here she was, banging her fist on the cold steel door. Every move sent pain through her swollen breasts. “Open up, Teresa,” she yelled when there was no answer. “If you know anything about my baby, please tell me.” Any grudge Teresa might hold against her would sound pretty weak compared to what André had done, and with the police there to back them up, Teresa would have to admit that her grandson was in the wrong. All Celia wanted was answers about her son.
Manny peered through the apartment window. “It looks like the lights are all out.”
Tiago stood in the parking lot, talking to the police officer who was assigned to their case. A short, white man with a heavy Southern accent, he had introduced himself as Officer Carry.
“Do you think she might be at work?” Manny asked as Celia continued pounding her fist into the door.
“That’s right.” Celia knew Teresa would be cleaning houses right now. Gritting her teeth from pain and exhaustion, she focused on the next part of her plan. “Let’s talk to the neighbors upstairs, then.”
She knew Sofia and her parents would be on her side. More than any of her acquaintances in North Carolina, they understood about André. Sofia had witnessed his charms, but she’d also been there to see their last fight—the one in which André had knocked out Celia’s teeth. Without Sofia, Celia might never have gotten away. As little as they knew each other, Sofia was a friend, one who would reveal what she knew of André and Teresa.
Celia climbed the metal staircase with Manny, Tiago, and the policeman following, their steps echoing off the apartment walls.
After only one knock, Sofia swung open the door, pausing for just a second before throwing her arms around her. “Celia! It’s so good to see you!” She motioned for them to enter her apartment. “Come in. Come in.” Then, looking from Celia’s face to the policeman, she tilted her head to the side. “What’s wrong?”
“André kidnapped my baby,” Celia blurted out, confident that she wouldn’t need to explain too much to Sofia. “I’ve come to find them. Do you know where they might be?”
“He kidnapped your baby?” Sofia asked, her words coming one at a time.
“Maybe you saw the Amber Alert,” Manny said, showing her the alert screen on his phone.
Sofia’s eyes widened. “I got that! That was for your baby?” She covered her face with her hands. “Wait. I’m trying to make sense of this. Teresa told me that you and André made up, and that you were bringing the baby down here for a visit.”
“When did she tell you that?” Officer Carry asked, pulling out his notepad.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. It could’ve been last week, or maybe earlier. She was all excited about it. She showed me some of the clothes she made for her grandbaby.”
Celia stepped into the ray of late afternoon sunshine that streamed through Sofia’s window, and the tightness in her chest loosened its grip. She dared a smile. Teresa was expecting to meet her grandson. This was the best news Sofia could have given them. Manny’s hunch about Teresa had been right.
It comforted her to know Benjamin probably wasn’t freezing to death or dehydrated. He was in the care of his grandmother. Celia grasped Manny’s hand, giving it a squeeze.
What would she do without Manny? He could figure these mysteries out just as well as he could figure out all the sums in his old math books, and he was doing it all for her and Benjamin. Manny truly loved her, and if she ever got through this mess, she wanted to show him just how grateful she was for it all.
It was strange how differently things had turned out for Manny and her than she’d imagined back when they both lived on the island. They had spent so many days under the mango tree, dreaming of the peaceful life they’d build together in America—their beautiful apartment complete with a television, two children, and a sofa. Now what she wouldn’t give to have just Manny and Benjamin. The apartment, the TV, and the sofa didn’t matter a bit.
“I wish we could get into Teresa’s apartment,” Manny said. “André could be hiding in there.”
“I should have taken André’s key when I left,” Celia said. “But I never expected to come back.”
Sofia dashed to the kitchen. “We have a key to their apartment. André locked himself out so much that Teresa finally gave us one.” She opened a drawer and drew out a soccer-ball key chain with a gold key attached. “Dad picked this out especially for André’s key.”
As the officer asked Sofia another question, Celia took the key, ran out of the apartment and down the stairs. Shoving the key in the lock, she swung open the door. If André happened to be inside, Tiago and Manny could handle him, whether or not he had a knife.
But only darkness met her. The stream of light from the open door revealed an empty couch, its cushions arranged in perfect symmetry. No dishes cluttered the sink. Nothing lay on the counters. The trash cans all sat empty.
She checked the refrigerator for baby bottles but found instead a whole chicken, a bag of raw shrimp, a gallon of milk, and some sausages—ingredients for a feast. Teresa really had been expecting visitors.
Walking to Teresa’s bedroom, Celia found the bed neatly made. Then, remembering what Sofia said about Teresa buying clothes for Benjamin, Celia searched the dresser drawers—no clothes for a baby there or in the closet. Teresa had to have taken them somewhere else.
“We have to find the girlfriend’s place,” she whispered. “That’s probably where they’re hiding. Did the officer say anything about his girlfriend?”
Tiago shook his head. “No. He asked the questions. I gave the answers.”
“When I talked to the soccer coaches on the phone,” Manny said, “it sounded like André had three or four different women friends.”
“Three or four?” Tiago threw up his hands and sighed. “I can’t even get one girlfriend, and I’m a decent guy.”
Celia groaned. “You say that like it’s a good thing to have more than one.”
Those baby clothes had to have gone somewhere. Was Benjamin wearing them right now? Did that mean he was in North Carolina, or had André taken them to Massachusetts? Where else could André be hiding?
She sank onto Teresa’s sofa and closed her eyes. The cushions felt stiffer than she remembered. Everything in Theo’s house was softer—not quite as stylish but much more comfortable. She pulled her phone from her purse. It still held all of André’s old contacts, as well as some of Teresa’s. Though they’d called every single one of the contacts, few had answered. “I don’t know where to look next.”
Manny sat down beside her and slipped his arm around her shoulders, driving away her misgivings. “What if we went around to some of the places you used to go when you lived here? We could visit the soccer fields and the houses you cleaned with Teresa. It might stir up some memories for you.”
“That’s a good idea,” she said. “I’m just not sure I can remember how to get everywhere.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Tiago said, motioning for Manny and Celia to follow him to his car.
He drove them to the soccer park first.
“There are a lot of places around the stadium where André could hide,” Manny said, studying a graphic on his phone. “The locker rooms, the concessions place, a couple restrooms, and a multi-purpose room. The coaches said they’ve been watching the security cameras. So far, they haven’t seen anything suspicious.”
Celia tried to stop her knees from jiggling, but she couldn’t help feeling nervous about meeting André’s teammates again. Surely, they’d be on his side. After all, he’d had seven months to bias them against her. He’d probably told them what a bad wife she’d been, and they might feel he deserved to see his own child. Maybe some of them even helped him accomplish that.
Tiago drove right up to the side of the practice field, where the men were doing drills. Some dribbled the ball around cones while others practiced making goals. But they all stopped when they saw her get out of the car. The Puerto Rican with the mustache waved at her, and a few of the others came running toward her. She shrank back, holding her hands out in defense and looking for Manny to help protect her.
“We’re so sorry,” one of them said in a heavy, Spanish accent as he embraced her. “We wish we’d known what was going on sooner. We would have taken André out for sure.”
The others nodded their agreement.
“It’s despicable, what he did, Celia,” one of the English-speakers said. She didn’t even know his name, but he clasped his hand on her shoulder as tears pooled in his eyes. “I have a little boy myself. I’m willing to do everything I can to help you.”
“You can depend on us,” said another, placing a fist to his chest. “You call us anytime you need something.”
“We’ll do anything to help,” another echoed. “Just say the word.”
She sniffled, shocked by all the sympathy. “I need to find where he might be hiding. Do any of you have an idea? At a girlfriend’s house or a friend’s house?”
“He didn’t tell us his plans,” the Puerto Rican said. “Last Friday was the last time we saw him, and believe me, if we’d known he planned to kidnap your son, we would have broken both his legs.” He punched into his hand for emphasis. “But he didn’t talk about his private life much. We didn’t even know you had a son.”
“Do you know of any female friends he had?” Manny asked. “We think he might be staying with a girlfriend.”
The guys all shrugged, and the Puerto Rican spoke again. “Whenever my girlfriend saw André starting to hang around a woman, she’d warn the girl to steer clear. After that happened a few times, André quit bringing his women friends around.”
The huge lights over the field flashed on. Celia thanked the soccer players for the help, and they went back to their practice. Celia checked her watch—it was past time for Teresa to be home from work. She was always home by dark, but a quick call to Sofia confirmed Celia’s suspicions. Teresa still wasn’t home.
Teresa was hiding too. It all added up. The baby clothes, the plans for visiting her grandson, the fact that she wasn’t home. Teresa had to have the answers they needed.
Celia turned to Tiago and Manny. “I’d like to visit the houses Teresa cleans. Maybe the people there have seen something.” She had the addresses on her phone’s contact list.
They walked back to the car, and Tiago opened the door for her. She brought up the contact list on her phone and looked for the contacts that had been Teresa’s. Nearly all of the contacts were for the houses she cleaned, and they included addresses. Celia counted eleven houses in all.
With rush hour traffic, it was slow-going to get to each house, and at the first few places, no one was home. At the fourth house, though, a man answered the door. After they asked about Teresa, he explained that she hadn’t shown up to work that day. “She usually calls when she can’t come, so I only noticed when the trash was still full. I was wondering if she was sick.”
It was the same story at the next house. Teresa hadn’t shown up there either.
What was she up to?
“Let’s just keep checking on these other addresses,” Manny said, paging through the contacts. “We’re almost halfway done.”
“There’s another house about a kilometer from here,” Celia said. “She always cleaned it on the same day she cleaned this house.”
“Okay,” Tiago replied, turning the car back on. “Do you remember how to get there?”
She pointed ahead on the dark road. “Go down to the end of the road and turn right.”
After Tiago made the turn, she told him to turn right again. “Just three more houses,” she instructed. “It’s the one without any lights on outside.” Only one dim light shone from a basement window.
Tiago pulled to a stop.
“It doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” Manny said.
“It looks like a foreclosure,” Tiago responded, “except for that one light.”
Now that they mentioned it, something did seem different. The rocker no longer sat on the front porch, and dead leaves covered the ground.
Tiago inched the car forward, pulling into the driveway. “Let’s check it out.”
As they turned into the driveway, Celia squealed with joy, as if she were still a teenager. There, in front of them, was a silver sedan, parked beside the garage. “That’s Teresa’s car.”