Left for Garbage

on you, and if Denise would cooperate with us, well, we might make progress.
    So , that’s what I’m thinking about while I’m standing in the yard after midnight, like I do lately, to be alone - I’m thinking about how hot it is outside and how airless it is inside our house, and I’m trying to catch not only my breath but my better senses, too. My gut instincts start me gasping for air in the heat and then I start to sweat, and then I decided it was past time to confront Denise because Margaret sure won’t do it.
    She’s been home a few days now, getting comfortable , like all this activity to find Deeley is really just about her. She’ll preen and grin if someone brings her flowers or a treat she wanted, and drift off to her room if they ask her a question she doesn’t want to answer, and that pretty much covers any question that isn’t, “Denise, is there anything I can get you”?
    She prances around the house like she owns it, nothing new there , and she sits at her vanity while brushing her hair and playing music, or watching herself on TV with the volume turned off so she doesn’t have to hear ‘mean things’, and it’s all like all this is some circus she begged the family to bring her to that now she’s lost interest in.
    Last night I overheard her talking with Seel and Rick, and I got so angry about her attitude that as soon as they were done with her , I marched into the living room where she was and asked some questions of my own.
    F at lot of good it did me.
    “Denise, where is our baby?”
    “Dad, how many times do I have to tell you? I don’t know,” she answers, like I’m bugging her.
    “Denise, let’s go over this all once again. Maybe something will …”
    “Dad, stop it! How many times do I have to tell you? If I knew …”
    I had heard enough of what she’d just told Rick, so I interrupt her this time. “Denise, we’re going over it a million times , if necessary, until we’re dark blue in the face. That’s why you’re home now, to help us. You already blew off Rick, the man who brought you home,” I remind her, “and we need to make the best of this opportunity. Now, you’re going to tell me again, this Manny, give me more information. You’ve got to remember things, even if you can’t remember exact addresses.”
    Denise coopera tes because I think she saw I meant business, and tells me, “There’s a sister in Mexico, I think … or Panama. And he mentioned relatives in New York.”
    “Okay. The city?” I ask. “New York’s a big state. Did he say Upstate New York or the city? Did he mention a borough?”
    I’m thinking all these questions mean something, that they help prove my granddaughter is still alive.
    Denise got exasperated with me but she learned the true meaning of exasperation after what I did next. I threw my fists up in the air and I screamed right in her face as loud as my voice could go. My temples could have split wide open.
    “ TELL ME WHERE SHE IS, GODDAMMIT! TELL ME NOW, GODDAMMIT, DENISE! STOP AND TELL ME WHERE MY GRANDDAUGHTER IS! TELL ME NOW … NOW … NOW … TELL ME FUCKING NOW!”
    I just lost it then and tears started pouring down my face and I fell onto my knees in front of her while she stared at me.
    “Please,” I begged her, “please tell me where Deeley is. Please, Denise, please, please, please.”
    I’m broken, fixed in that position, sobbing the word ‘please’ over and over, and Denise, she didn’t blink an eye let alone shed a tear, and then in comes Margaret who starts yelling at me and asking me what the hell is wrong with me.
    I tried to defend what I was trying to do with Denise but Margaret told me to leave immediately, and when I walked out to the kitchen, Margaret followed me and made it clear that what she meant was that I had to get out of the house. She said I’m helping nothing and she kicked me out. Told me to drive away and not come back. She looked at me like I’ve lost my mind, and she’s right, I am losing my mind.

Charlotte Hope
    (Eye on America)

    Good evening America, this is ‘Eye on America’ and I’m Charlotte Hope.
    Tonight , continuing shocks out of Orlando, Florida, where the young mother whose baby is still missing was released from jail only to be arrested again for stealing, having stolen her best friend’s checkbook and wiped out the account! With friends like that, you don’t need enemies, right?
    Let’s face it, even the big bounty hunter who traveled cross-country