Adopt a Yognaught

Chapter 10

{Simon's POV}

We ended up ending the investigation there. We went home, since it was late. The investigating took a lot more time than it seemed.

Lewis and Hannah took me home, and we said our goodbyes for the night.

I headed into my room and went to sleep.

***

I was woken the next morning by knocking. I groaned as I sat up. I fell asleep in my clothes from yestardy, so I didn't bother on putting on new clothes. My hair was probably messed up, but I didn't bother on combing it out before I answered the door.

I walked toward the door, where the knocking continued persistantly. I opened the door, and was struck to see two policemen standing there.

"Hello, Mr. Lane," One man said.

"Y-Yes?" I said, hope filling me as I thought about Candie.

"There was reported call from Redfield," One cop said. "He said that there was a call placed into Redfield Flats. We traced the call to here, and we want to know why you were asking about a man with black hair and beard...?"

My hope died. They didn't find Candie. They were here to question me. I sighed in defeat. "I was trying to find Candie." Might as well spill.

"Sir," The other cop said, obviously annoyed. "You leave the investigation to the police. If you wanted to solve a case, become a policeman."

The younger cop, and he also seemed to be nicer, coughed. "Sir, Mr. Lane, what he means to say is that you don't have to do your own detective work. The detectives will search for your daughter, and you can relax and hope for the best."

I was shocked. They thought I could just sit around and wait for them to find Candie?! I flexed my fingers on the doorknob, trying to control my anger.

"So, we just ask of you to not cause trouble." The younger policeman said.

I forced a nod and smile, and they nodded back and headed for their car. It took all my strength not to slam the door behind them.

I went back into my flat and picked up the phone. I called Lewis, and told him what had happened.

"What are we going to do, then?" Lewis asked.

"We have to do something!" I said. "We can't just sit here and do nothing!"

"But we don't know what else to do, friend. Not without getting into trouble." Lewis said.

I thought for a moment, then saw something out the window. There was a flyer with one of the missing children on it. An idea came to mind, and a smile crept onto my face.

"I have an idea," I said, and explained.

***

An hour later, Lewis, Hannah, Duncan, Martyn and I were at Yogtowers, printing out copies of posters with Candie's face on them. We got the picture from Yognews, when Candie was first introduced to all the yognau(gh)ts.

We had about twenty posters after we were done. We didn't need that much, since this was only a cover-up. The real plan was behind it.

Okay, so this is what the plan is: We use the posters as a cover-up while we go door-to-door to the nearest apartments where Candie was taken. These apartments are called Bristol's Best Flats. Since the kidnapper had rented apartments in the past, we decided to check the apartments that were around. Lewis and Hannah have an apartment, but they reported that no one has rented one in a while. Anyway, back to the plan, while we go door-to-door in the apartments, we check out who lives there. If there's a man with black hair and beard, we'll investigate further. No more phonecalls. We don't want to see any police. 

We drive to the building, posters in hand, and begin our investigation. 

***

{Candie's POV}

I didn't get to sleep. I was in the room for hours. My ankle was sore, but the coldness in the room made it numb. My stomach was growling, and my tongue felt like swollen sandpaper. I wanted a drink. I needed a drink. 

I banged on the walls with my little strength. I kept doing it for maybe an hour, when I finally heard him. He stomped on the stairs as he came up, and swung open my door in anger. His face softened when he saw me. 

"How're you doing, sweetheart?" He asked. 

I tried to say, "Water", but the gag made it muffled. He walked over, made me promise that I wouldn't scream, and untied all my bindings. 

"Water," I said, my voice cracking. He nodded in understanding, and put my arm around his shoulder. I was willing to bet some of his 'children' he had died of dehydration. 

We walked into the kitchen, which had an island in the middle. I sat down at one of the barstools at the island, and he poured me a glass of water. I downed it in one go. He chuckled and poured me another, giving me a bag of crisps with it. I drunk the water first, then worked on the crisps. 

As I was eating away, my eyes traveled around the room. I noticed there were several wrappers littering the counters, along with molded and rotten food. There was a microwave covered in trash bags, and I was willing to bet that there was something out-dated in it. 

My eyes landed on a set of picture frames. There were three of them, hanging on the wall looking more clean than anything in this house. One had a picture of a little girl, around my age, with brown hair and bright blue eyes. She looked happy, and smiled at the camera in what looked to be a backyard. The picture next to it had a picture of what looked to be a grave, with flowers on it. I couldn't make out the writing on the grave, but got the idea that the little girl may have died. The third picture, one on top of the two in a triangle, had the man, the little girl, and a woman in it. The man didn't have a crazy beard or an equally crazy look in his eye. He was normal, and had a hand on the little girl's back as they posed for a picture. The woman looked happy, but it was hard to tell. Her face was scratched out. It looked like someone took scissors or something sharp and tried to scratch her out of the picture. It was terrifying yet interesting at the same time. 

My hand caught air when I went for another crisp. I look, and the bag was empty. I'd eaten them all. The glass was filled again. I emptied the cup, and noticed the man was gone. I put the cup down, my thirst quenched for now, and went into the living room. 

He was sitting at the table, the chess board set up again. There were once again two tea cups. He patted the seat next to him, and I forced a smile and walked towards him. 

I suddenly got the impression like he was a man who attempted at adopting me. That impression turned into an idea, and my smile was no longer forced. 

If I'm staying with this man for now, hopefully temporary, then why not pretend he was just a man adopting me? And since my life depends on it, I will actually try to be the 'perfect daughter'. 

As much as I hate it, I will try to be the nice, adopted kid. Because if I don't, I will die.