‹ Prequel: My 'Cool' Grandpa
My Un-'Cool' Half-Brother
The Kidnapper's Identity
*Adrienne's POV*
I sighed as I waited in the relative's room. My head hurt and I felt tired. Such was the burden of growing old. I winced as I felt a pain in my chest. Emma came back in. She had been visiting her Mom.
"Grandma, are you OK?" She came over and sat by me.
"Yes, sweetie, I'm fine, just a little tired," I lied, forcing a smile. "How's your mother?"
"She's OK. Tired, like you. She can't wait to come home."
"I'll bet. Does she know about Frankie?"
"No, I didn't want to tell her."
I smiled and hugged her. "OK. Don't worry about it. She might not need to find out. They might be bringing her back home now."
The door opened and we jumped up. Jack and Rosie walked in, tears streaming down their faces. Billie followed them in, carrying Jimmy.
"Sweetie, what's wrong?" I asked, hugging Rosie.
She was crying so hard she couldn't talk, so I turned to Jack. He too, could not seem to speak. Billie and Jimmy were crying as well. I was about to ask Billie when a doctor walked in.
"Mr and Mrs Armstrong?" he asked. Billie, Jack, Rosie and I turned to look at him. "Um, please, take a seat." We all sat down.
"Your daughter was just brought in, Francesca Armstrong-Cool, yes?" Jack, Rosie and Billie nodded. I was stunned.
"You found her?" I asked, Emma was equally stunned, her eyes were wide and puzzled.
"Yes, Francesca was found in a house near Berkeley, in one of the, shall we say, more unpleasant parts of the city. I've been told that she was hit by a brick thrown through the window of the room she was in."
I gasped and blinked back tears.
"We don't know what's going to happen yet. We'll let you know the minute anything happens." He walked out and closed the door behind him.
Emma and I were crying as well now. The six of us hugged each other tightly.
There was a knock at the door. A paramedic walked in, holding some files.
"We have identified the dead man. He is a Mr Edwin Williams. He's 22 years old and born in New York... " she trailed off when she saw the look on our faces.
"Do you know him?"
We looked at Rosie. She looked dead, ghostly white and expressionless.
"No. We never met the bastard," she said coldly. Suddenly, she lurched and ran out of the room. I ran out to follow her. She ran for the bathroom and I heard her throw up into a cubicle. She came out crying. I hugged her.
"Why would he do that Adie, why? He's her uncle! We thought we could trust him. I hope that mother fucking son of a bitch burns in Hell. How could he do that to my little girl?"
I sighed as I waited in the relative's room. My head hurt and I felt tired. Such was the burden of growing old. I winced as I felt a pain in my chest. Emma came back in. She had been visiting her Mom.
"Grandma, are you OK?" She came over and sat by me.
"Yes, sweetie, I'm fine, just a little tired," I lied, forcing a smile. "How's your mother?"
"She's OK. Tired, like you. She can't wait to come home."
"I'll bet. Does she know about Frankie?"
"No, I didn't want to tell her."
I smiled and hugged her. "OK. Don't worry about it. She might not need to find out. They might be bringing her back home now."
The door opened and we jumped up. Jack and Rosie walked in, tears streaming down their faces. Billie followed them in, carrying Jimmy.
"Sweetie, what's wrong?" I asked, hugging Rosie.
She was crying so hard she couldn't talk, so I turned to Jack. He too, could not seem to speak. Billie and Jimmy were crying as well. I was about to ask Billie when a doctor walked in.
"Mr and Mrs Armstrong?" he asked. Billie, Jack, Rosie and I turned to look at him. "Um, please, take a seat." We all sat down.
"Your daughter was just brought in, Francesca Armstrong-Cool, yes?" Jack, Rosie and Billie nodded. I was stunned.
"You found her?" I asked, Emma was equally stunned, her eyes were wide and puzzled.
"Yes, Francesca was found in a house near Berkeley, in one of the, shall we say, more unpleasant parts of the city. I've been told that she was hit by a brick thrown through the window of the room she was in."
I gasped and blinked back tears.
"We don't know what's going to happen yet. We'll let you know the minute anything happens." He walked out and closed the door behind him.
Emma and I were crying as well now. The six of us hugged each other tightly.
There was a knock at the door. A paramedic walked in, holding some files.
"We have identified the dead man. He is a Mr Edwin Williams. He's 22 years old and born in New York... " she trailed off when she saw the look on our faces.
"Do you know him?"
We looked at Rosie. She looked dead, ghostly white and expressionless.
"No. We never met the bastard," she said coldly. Suddenly, she lurched and ran out of the room. I ran out to follow her. She ran for the bathroom and I heard her throw up into a cubicle. She came out crying. I hugged her.
"Why would he do that Adie, why? He's her uncle! We thought we could trust him. I hope that mother fucking son of a bitch burns in Hell. How could he do that to my little girl?"