Chapter 39

Mrs. Wilson, Rebecca’s landlord was just about to step down into the basement with her pink laundry basket when she looked to the landing of the peeling wooden staircase to see a scantily clad Rebecca in the arms of none other than the CEO of the Silverman Corporation.

The bulb at the stairway to the basement had blown and because of that, she was shrouded in the shadows. The continuous thunder helped masked her presence as she curiously peered at William Silverman. She had seen both of them in her daughter’s magazine, Entertainment Weekly or People Magazine - she wasn’t too sure of the name but boy did the both of them looked good together. It reminded her of her younger days when she too had been hot and beautiful.

But tonight, both of them looked far from glamorous. In fact, William Silverman was oddly dressed in black and carrying an unconscious Rebecca out of the apartment doorway.

She wondered whether she should call out to say ‘hello’ but thought better of it.

Best to stay out of the youngster’s lives, she thought to herself as William kicked the glass door open and headed out into the rainy night. Lightning flashed, illuminating his and Rebecca’s dangling silhouette before they went out of sight. She wondered if Rebecca had drunk too much, judging by how her head had bobbed up and down in rhythm with Silverman’s footsteps, her curly hair plastered all over her face as her long lean legs swayed almost lifelessly from his arms.

She shook her head, not liking what she saw. That William Silverman was bad news. EVERYONE knew he was a playboy. Mrs. Wilson very much preferred Rebecca to be with her detective friend.

What was his name again? Was it a John or a James? She couldn’t remember, but that young gentleman was always very polite and helpful. He had even helped fixed her dryer once.

Mrs. Wilson shrugged, who was she to judge and turned back to head to the basement to do her laundry.

 ***

 John’s car, a black Wrangler blazed through the traffic – its siren blaring as the red and blue lights tore through the rain. The jeep swerved dangerously along the narrow lanes between cars that were stuck in traffic, the speed depicting the anxiety at which both driver and passenger were feeling from within the car. William sat beside John at the passenger seat, silently berating himself for having been such a fool. He should have gone to Rebecca first. How on earth did he not see this coming?

“Keep calling!” John yelled, honking at the cars in front to give way.

William fumed, “What does it look like I’m doing? Playing Candy Crush?”

It was pointless to call Rebecca now. There was no answer. William tried calling Thomas’ number but was not surprised that his derailed twin did not answer the phone. They had come from the same womb, but he had absolutely no idea where Thomas would bring Rebecca to. He only prayed that they were not too late.

Behind them, Sam Park and another officer tailed closely, keeping in contact with John through a walkie talkie.

William had given Thomas’ details to John and the detective had immediately sent a dispatch team to look for traces of a black Porsche via the company’s Porsche Vehicle Tracking System (PVTS). William personally wondered if Thomas had deactivated the system, their mother had bought this model for his twin who had requested for certain features to be added while others to be taken out. He never did check what his twin had tinkered with. He should have, he should have taken more interest in the workings of his twin’s twisted mind. He should have stopped him when he had the chance.

By the time the vehicles came to a screech in front of Rebecca's apartment, the Porsche had been long gone. John jumped out from his jeep without even stopping the engine and dashed into the apartment, bumping into Mrs. Wilson who had just stepped out of the basement.

“Oof!” she fell onto the wooden floor along with her laundry basket which toppled over, causing her freshly washed linen to spill all over the floor.

“Detective!”

John blinked, he had been blinded by his worries, “I’m so sorry Mrs. Wilson. I was in a hurry. Are you alright?”

“Yes….yes…” she looked at her clothes in annoyance. Now she would have to wash them again. John helped her up and she peered at his face with pity.

Ahh…is this a love triangle? she wondered as she opened her mouth to give comfort to a worried-looking John, “She’s gone. With that Silverman……”

Her words trailed off and she never got to finish her sentence, for in walked the real William Silverman, immaculately dressed in a white polo and dark blue jeans and looking incredibly dashing with his dark brown hair and silver streaks combed back. If the detective was the embodiment of James Dean, then William Silverman would be the reincarnated version of Cary Grant.

John grabbed her arms, “Where? How was Rebecca?”

Her eyes practically bulged out of her sockets as her wrinkled mouth went agape. She raised her hand and pointed her index finger at William Silverman. Behind him, Sam Park and his colleague ran in and at John’s head nod, they sped up the staircase towards Rebecca’s apartment.

“How was Rebecca? Where’d they go?” John implored, tightening his grip on the old woman’s arm. His heart had never beaten any faster, it felt like it could burst out of his chest at any minute. The thought of losing Rebecca was just too much to bear.

“She….she was unconscious and he…he was carrying her out of the doorway,” she pointed towards the entrance, her eyes never leaving William Silverman’s emotionless face.

John let out a ragged breath and closed his eyes, “We still have time.”

William nodded and picked up his phone, this time calling the last person he ever wanted to talk to. His mother.