FOUR YEARS LATER…
“Mommy, Mommy!” The little girl ran inside the expansive house from the back yard and landed in her Mom’s arms.
“What is it, sweetie?” Monica Timberlake picked up the little girl and stood, straightening her back. She smiled as she eyed the girl’s blonde hair, thanks to her father, *N Sync’s leading man, Justin Timberlake.
“Where’s Daddy?”
Monica frowned. “He said he had to go get something. But don’t worry; he’ll be home soon.”
“Ok. I’m hungry.” The little girl, Jessica, jumped down and opened the pantry, pulling out a can of Chef Boyardee’s Spaghetti with Meatballs.
Monica took the can from Jessica and used the can opener to open it, dumped it in a bowl, and heated it up in the microwave. When it was done, she set the bowl down in front of the little girl and she began to eat.
Monica heard the door open and close. Her husband, Justin, came in, wearily. “Hey, honey, what’s up?”
Justin sighed. He walked over to his wife and rested his arms on her shoulders and lifted her chin so that they were eye level. “The police found a clue indicating that Justin Jr. is still alive, and here in Orlando.”
Monica’s mouth dropped open. She grabbed onto Justin’s arms to keep her from falling. “Who told you this?” Her voice was a whisper.
“The police.”
“What’s the clue?”
“Well, the police came here to tell you that.” Justin gestured to the door, where two uniformed officers had stepped in.
Jessica came in then. “Is Mommy in trouble?” she asked.
Justin sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Silky, just like her mom’s. “No, Mommy’s not in trouble. Go downstairs to the playroom and when the two gentlemen leave, I’ll tell you everything.”
The little girl was quick to oblige and you could hear her footsteps descending the stairs. She always listened to her father.
“Have a seat,” Monica said, pointing to the plush chairs.
The officers sat down and one turned to Monica. “Ma’am, we understand that this has been a very emotional time for you, but as we’re telling you what we have found, we would request that you hold back any tears or outbursts.”
Monica nodded and swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat.
“Last night we received a call from an elderly woman. She claimed that a neighbor was blasting music, coincidentally *N Sync. When we got there, the person or persons unknown had left and, well, the next part isn’t very pleasant.” The officer paused.
Monica threw her hands up in the air exasperatedly. “Go on! Don’t stop now!”
The officer went on. “There was a whole shrine dedicated to Justin there, with everything he has ever done. Along with it were pictures of you, Monica, and they were all either coated with blood or X-ed out with a red pen.”
Monica’s gaped. “Who…?” The question hung in the air.
Justin wrapped his arms around her. “It’s ok…”
“Is it our son’s blood? Is our son dead? Why did they kidnap him? Does this person hate me? Why?” Monica shrieked, her voice raising several octaves.
“Shhh…be quiet…” Justin murmured against her hair, rocking her back and forth.
Monica began to cry and buried her head into Justin’s chest.
“There’s no need to get all juiced up,” the other officer, who hadn’t spoken yet, said. “We’re not even sure if it relates to your case.”
“Then why are you bothering us about it?” Justin snapped coldly. He didn’t like to see his wife unhappy.
“The fact that we found lots of pictures of your son on the floor.”
Monica looked up. “But we didn’t have that many pictures of Justin Jr. He was only two when he was kidnapped. And there’s no way that the media could have gotten them.”
“Exactly.” The officer nodded his head. “These pictures were from age one to age six.”
“Could it be the babysitter?” Monica asked. “She was a fan.”
“No,” the officer replied. “We found the babysitter dead in an alley downtown. Strangled to death.”
Monica closed her eyes and tears fell down her cheeks. She was silent.
“Whatever it takes, I will catch this kidnapper,” Justin said determinedly. “Even if I have to kill for it.”