Please Understand

Chapter 7: Wrong Answers

"You were with Amelia? What the hell, dude?" I hissed with the thought of getting into another fight passing through my head. Liar! He's lied about everything! He probably knows where Amelia is. That's why he's been trying to  blame me!

"Shut the hell up," he barked back with fire lighting his dark eyes. Immediately, I backed down because I couldn't take another beating. "I told you, I'll tell you after school. Let's give this shitty plan of yours a try." He turned around, and headed towards the exit with me on his heels.

Pretend. Keep that stupidly friendly look on your face. Don't lose control. I clenched my jaw, and resisted the urge to get expelled. I would give anything to force this guy to tell me the truth, but I know getting into another fight won't help anything. I'll probably just wind up dead. If I do anything, then he's not going to talk. What if he knows where Amelia is? If he was with her that night, then whose to say he didn't do something to her? Of course, he'd want to keep this a secret. The Navy would kick him out for sure once he becomes a prime suspect. He probably knows where she is. He could've killed her-

My stomach lurched at the murderous thought. Amelia can't be dead; there's  no way Dakota could have done something to her. He seemed genuinely worried and angry with me because he thought I knew something. Maybe he actually cares about her. Maybe it's no big deal he was with her that night. Maybe he didn't want anyone to find out he was with her to protect his reputation.

We walked into Mr. Holtry's office while Mr. Winters held open the door with a forced smile. Detective Nix was already sitting at the table in the corner with a new cup of coffee and an orange file in front of him. He had pushed all of my assignments to the side. His forehead was wrinkled and his thin lips were pursed as we came over with our trays. There was doubt in his eyes, like the information I had for him wouldn't be enough. My hands were shaking because what if he already knows what I know? What if he went back to the house? What if he noticed the diary is missing? Will that get me in more trouble?

He cleared his throat, and took a swig of his black coffee. How do people drink that stuff? I could hardly handle the smell as his breath wafted across the table. "Alright, Mason, it's nice to see you again. I hear you have some more information for me. Care to explain?" he began with a small sigh. Every part of his body screamed with exhaustion. The bags under his eyes gave every sleepless night away, but I doubted he really cares that much about Amelia. It's all about being the guy to find the missing girl. There's glory in being a hero.

My hands were shaking, so I rubbed them against my jeans, hoping no one would notice. "Well, I was in Amelia's room yesterday-"

"Ah yes, Mr. Holtry told me you mentioned her room," he swiftly answered as he opened his file. Then, he spread out five pictures of all different angles of the room next door. There was Amelia's desk, her bed, inside her closest, her wall of pictures, and finally the bookshelf furthest to the left, sitting right in front of Dakota. "Do any of these photos jog your memory?"

I gulped, and instinctively reached for the only picture that mattered. The wrong answer to my seemingly unimportant question. My hand was uncontrollably shaking as I stared at it, and tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to allow them to spill over. I couldn't be the baby in a room full of men. "All of her books are still there," I breathed, listening to my high pitched squeak and my throat tightened around the words. "She had to be kidnapped." I threw the picture back onto the table, and covered my mouth with my hand.

Why Amelia? Why did she have to be the girl to be taken? What did she do to deserve this? What kind of monster would do this to her? What were they actually doing to her?