Discovered

Chapter 19: The Truth

Without warning, I scampered after him. "Mr. Gerald!" I blurted. "I need to talk to you!" The pastor didn't listen to my pleas or stopped, he just kept running. He ran across a small drugstore and dodged busy people.

"Mr. Gerald!" I cried again. I raced around the innocent civilians, obstacles, and avoided people's enraged stares. I ran until I saw him stopping in front of a congested traffic.

As soon as I caught up with him, I stopped by a vacant bus bench then took a seat. "Stop!" I gasped. "Mr. Gerald...you are outnumbered!" The pastor stared down at me then threw up his hands. "Fine," he moaned. "You caught me!"

Reluctantly, he sat down next to me then wiped the dust from his glasses with his tie. "Why did you run?" I asked. "I have been harassed by reporters, journalists, and the news!" he complained. "And the last thing I want to do is being followed by a stalker!"

I rolled my eyes at this. "And besides," the pastor added. "My sons have been talking about a young journalist wanting to find the person who killed Mr. Porter. I didn't believe them, of course."

"That's me," I admitted. "I was the one who wanted to help Wallace out. I already knew he didn't do it as well as Justin." Mr. Gerald gave me an uncertain look. "How do I know that you are telling the truth?" Mr. Gerald asked.

I took a deep breath then told him that the victim was my grandfather. "I never knew my grandfather," I explained. "Until I heard the news that he got shot by someone." Mr. Gerald stared at me for a moment and let out a loud sigh.

"Forgive me," he apologized sheepishly. I nodded as if I understood then brushed the strands of hair away from my eyes. "I began my investigations at the school, my grandpa's old bedroom, and talked to others," I explained. "As it turns out, Mrs. Jade and a guy named John Clemons killed my grandfather."

"In order to find a scapegoat, they framed Wallace Gerald for his murder and Justin as his accomplice. But the only thing is, why would they frame two innocent kids?"

Quietly, Mr.Gerald stared hard at the sidewalk crack. "Did you have something to do with this?" I asked.  He slowly looked up at me then nodded. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Why?" I asked.

"You wouldn't understand," he muttered. I flashed my eyes at him like darts. "Try me," I growled. Mr. Gerald took a deep breath and began his story: "While Wallace and Justin were at the arcade, I heard a ruckus coming from upstairs."

"I reached under my desk to get my gun, hurried upstairs, and found someone, wearing Justin's school hoodie. That guy was busy, meddling with my safe. And it surprised me that he learned how to open it. For a minute, I thought the man is either Justin or Wallace, so I decided to put the gun in my pocket and talk to him."

"Unfortunately," Mr. Gerald sighed. "The man escaped before I had the chance. So, I ran after him. I chased him until the man disappeared."

"What about the gun?" I asked. "I didn't know where it was," he confessed. "I was sure the gun was in my pocket. I am guessing that it fell out without me knowing."

"The next thing I knew is the man used it to kill Mr. Porter. Later, Wallace walked out of the arcade and saw my gun on the sidewalk. As soon as he touched it, the police caught him red-handed and threw him in jail."

I saw Mr. Gerald wiping away his tears and staring at his hand. "This is all my fault," he replied. "Do you know who could do this to your family?" I asked softly. "Could it be a classmate, friend-"

"Wallace and Justin were very good children," he interrupted, shaking his head. "I just don't understand." I took a deep breath and patted him gently on the shoulder.

I told him if he has more hints on related to the investigation, contact the police station. Mr. Gerald nodded in response then continued to stare at his hands. As I was walking back to the house, my only goal is to find Mrs. Jade and confront her.

Maybe she could be still in the school, I wondered. Just then, a yellow Versa zoomed past me. I could barely make out the driver's plate, but I could see the driver: she had olive brown skin, dark sunglasses, and dark hair.

She wore an expensive brown coat, gloves, and tight black pants. The woman is Mrs. Jade. As soon as a black car stopped in front of her, she gritted her teeth and honked her horn. 

Sitting next to her were her luggage and suitcases. I became aware of where Mrs. Jade is going to do: leave Harlem. "Move it!" she cried. Nonchalantly, I got my phone out of my pocket then captured the images of Mrs. Jade, her car, and her plate number.

When the red light turned green, Mrs. Jade swerved her car around the vehicle and accelerated forward. I watched as she drove away and never came back. Sighing, I resumed my trail to Grandma's house.

With the photos saved into my phone, I  dialed my father's number and waited for him to pick up. "Hello Cleo," Dad greeted. "I am almost finished with my late shift and I will head back to Harlem to come and pick you and your uncle up."

"That's good," I beamed. "Can you do me a favor?" "Sure, what is it?" he asked. "Can you send these pictures to the police?" I asked. As I typed the keyboard on my phone, I sent the photos of Mrs. Jade and her car to my father's phone.

"Okay," Dad began, "I'll give these photos to the police when I have the chance. Nice work, Cleo." "Thanks Dad," I answered with a smile. "I'll see you soon." "You too," he promised. After I was finished talking to Dad, I hang up the phone and dropped it into my pocket.

Good luck, Mrs. Jade. I said to myself. You are going to need it.