Bloodstain (9 page)

Chapter 14

Jason hung up the phone. He’d called Sandy to let her know he wouldn't be home for dinner, but he figured there was a good chance he might not be home at all that night.

Jason’s next call was to the
lieutenant. He punched in Patton’s number and waited. “Patton.”

“Lieutenant, this is Jason.”

“Any word on our girl?”

“Yes. She came to about an hour ago.”

“Did you get anything from her?”

“Afraid not. Dr. Nance shut me down immediately.”

“What? Why?”

Jason could hear the disappointment in the lieutenant’s voice. “Doc said she needs to rest for a few hours before she
’ll be able to make any sense.”

“
Son of a gun!”

“My sentiments exactly. Okay if I stay here and wait?”

“Yeah, let me know as soon as you have something.”

Jason
didn’t bother telling his boss he had no intention of going anywhere. Stephanie was his best hope of finding Vanessa.

The description of the vehicle on the news brought in hundreds of responses, and
they were still following up on them, but nothing appeared promising. Jason looked at his watch.

5:30
.

It
’d been about three hours since Miss. Morris had come around, and Jason was running out of patience and time. He made his way up to the third floor and found a nurse.

“Has Stephanie Morris come awake again?”

“No. However, they’ve ordered a tray for her, and I think they’re going to wake her to eat soon.”

Jason tried to contain his frustration. “
I guess I’ll go downstairs and find something at the cafeteria. Any recommendations?”

“Yeah. Eat out.”

Jason laughed aloud. It felt good but immediately made him feel guilty. With Vanessa missing, there was little to smile about. He headed downstairs to get something to eat.

*******

Vanessa stared at her abductor. He wasn’t fat, in fact he was well built. He’d probably be attractive if not for one thing. The birthmark. He stopped just inside the door. “Take your clothes off.”

Vanessa shuddered. She knew the other victims had not been raped
, but it wasn’t much comfort. “No.”

He
didn’t come toward her, didn’t even act as if he heard her. “Hang them in the closet with the others.”

“No.”

This time he looked directly at her. “When I come back you will have your clothes hung up or I will kill you.”

“Please don’t do this. I’m pregnant.”

She didn’t mean to let him know but it slipped out. He stared at her for several minutes. “Hang them up!”

The door slammed
.

She
didn’t get undressed.

*******

Jason ignored the nurse’s advice and went to the cafeteria anyway. Nothing looked good to him, so he ended up with coffee and a banana.

Sitting alone in a booth, he thought of Vanessa. He
didn’t know what she was going through but he had seen the result. He was torn between fear for her and anger at her abductor.

Jason thought of Rob.

If something like this happened to Sandy, I’d be paralyzed with fear.

He finished a second cup of coffee
, and threw away his banana peel. He looked at his watch.

7:15
.

Vanessa had been missing for nearly
twelve hours. Stephanie Morris had only been missing about twenty-four hours when the loggers found her. Two of the other cases supported the twenty-four hour window. If this guy kept the same timeline, and there was no reason to think he wouldn’t, Jason had twelve hours left to find his partner.

He headed back up to the third floor.

*******

When he got to the room, Stephanie Morris was sitting up in bed. A tray of half
-eaten food was on the rolling table next to the bed. Jason lightly knocked on the door. She looked up. “Yes?”

“May I come in, Miss Morris?”

“Yes. Who are you?”

Jason took a chair next to the bed and opened his pad.
“My name is Detective Jason Strong. Your friend, Brooke Donald reported you missing to me, and now I’m trying to find your attacker.”

The mere mention of her ‘attacker’ brought tears to her eyes
, and she began shaking. “When you walk the streets, you know something like this can happen but….” She didn’t have the strength to finish the thought.

“I know this will be difficult but I need to ask you some questions.”

“Okay.”

“Did you know your attacker?”

“No.”

“Could you describe him?”

She shuddered visibly. “I guess. I saw his face.”

“Could you describe him to an artist?”

“I can try. The most obvious thing about him was the birthmark on his face.”

Jason’s hopes began to lift.
“Okay. Will you excuse me a minute?”

She nodded and Jason stepped into the hall. He dialed Lieutenant Patton.

“Patton.”

“Lieutenant, this is Jason. Stephanie Morris is awake.”

“Excellent. Does she know anything?”

“Yes. She said she would do a description for a sketch. Can you get someone over here?”

“I’ll make the call.”

“Thanks.”

Jason hung up and returned to the room. A nurse was there checking on the girl and took the tray away.

Jason sat back down.
“We have a sketch artist coming. Are you  feeling okay to do it?”

“I guess. Can you call Brooke for me?”

“Absolutely.”

Jason put down his pad and looked the number up in his phone. He dialed and Brooke answered on the second ring.
“Hello?”

“Brooke, this is Detective Strong.”

“Hi.”

“I’m sitting here with a friend of yours, perhaps you remember her?”
Jason smiled and Stephanie managed a little smile herself.

“
Steph…Is she awake?”

“Yes
. Would you like to talk to her?”

He handed the phone to Stephanie and left the room. His questioning could wait a few minutes.

When he returned to the room, Stephanie was off the phone, her eyes red from crying. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. You okay for a few more questions?”

“I think so.”

Jason returned to his chair and retrieved his phone. Pad open, he looked up at Stephanie.
Normally, if he had his pad open, Vanessa would be asking the questions. He forced himself to focus.

“Do you know where he took you?”

“No. Some house. It was a mess.”

“Can you describe the outside?”

“Not really. It was dark and he blindfolded me after we left the Presa Street area.”

“What about the house inside? Anything specific about it?”

“Yeah. The room.”

“What room?”

“A bedroom. White walls with a blacked out and barred window. A mattress in the middle and a closet at the far end….”

She paused and appeared to
be steeling herself for what she had to say next. “….He made me take off my clothes and hang them in the closet. There were other girl’s clothes hanging in there.”

“Can you describe the clothes?”

“I guess. Normal stuff, except for the uniform. 7-11, I think.”

Marcie
Walker’s uniform.
“Anything else about the room?”

“The writing.”

“Writing?”

“All over the walls. Different colors. The same thing over and over.”

“What did it say?”

“I will never call you bloodstain again….he made me write it on the walls, too.”

“I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?”

“I will never call you bloodstain again.”

Jason looked up at her. Tears rolled down her face. He couldn’t conceive the horror each girl must have felt. Naked, and forced to write something they didn’t understand, over and over while that animal watched. His heart broke for her. He closed his pad and got her a tissue. “That’s enough for now. The sketch artist should be here soon. You rest.”

“Okay,
thanks. Will you stay?”

He
touched her hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She half-smiled and closed her eyes.

Jason looked at his watch.

8:30
.

Wh
ere is that artist?

Chapter 15

The light that had been coming in around the edges of the window was gone. Vanessa guessed it to be nine or ten in the evening. The man
hadn’t returned, but it was only a matter of time.

She thought of
Rob, and what he must be going through. And Jason, who she’s sure, is doing everything in his power to find her.

A
click startled her, the doorknob turned, and the door opened. He stepped into the room, looked at her, and slammed the door. Walking directly toward her, he drew the gun from behind him, and pointed it directly at her stomach. The end of the barrel touched where her child was.

“Take off your clothes and hang them in the closet or your child dies.”

“Please no.”

“They all say that. Do it!”

He raised the gun and fired into the far wall. Vanessa covered her head, but he hadn’t intended to hit her. Her ears rang as he returned the gun to her belly. The muzzle burned.

“Take off your clothes
, or the next one goes through the baby.”

She
did as he demanded. Keeping her eyes on the gun as her clothes came off, when she was naked, she turned her back to him.

‘Hang them up!”

She did, slowly.

When she was done, she turned around, her arms wrapped across her breasts. He threw her a marker. She
didn’t try to catch it, and it hit the wall next to her, dropping by her feet.

“You see what’s written on the walls?”

Vanessa nodded.

“I want you to write the same thing over and over until I tell you to stop.”

She didn’t move.

“NOW!”

She jumped at his shouting, and retrieved the marker. Turning to the wall behind her, because it allowed her to keep her back to him, she started to write. It occurred to her she hadn’t asked his name. “You haven’t told me your name.”

“Norman.”

Vanessa continued to write. She remembered some articles about kidnapping in a police manual.

Start a conversation. M
ake yourself be seen as a human being, not an object.

“That’s a nice name.”

She tried for as sincere a tone as she could muster, but his reaction told her she’d failed.

“You’re a liar. Just like always. You made me be
lieve you cared but you didn’t.”

Something hit the wa
ll next to her and made her cringe. She looked down to see a nine-millimeter bullet.

“The next one that comes at you will be coming from my gun.”

Vanessa continued to write while she tried to think of some way to leave a message. Nothing came to her. He stayed by the door and watched her as she continued to print out the words.

I will never call you bloodstain again.

*******

Jason looked at his watch for the twentieth time.

10:15.

He’d
been waiting almost two hours for the sketch artist. Every minute was precious, and he’d just lost a hundred-twenty of them. Finally, he saw the man coming down the hall. He didn’t bother with greetings. “In here.”

He
found Stephanie watching TV.

“Stephanie, the artist is here.”

“Okay,” she flipped the TV off, tried to pull herself up farther in the bed, and grimaced from the pain. “How do we do this?”

“The artist will start with some basic questions and then move to more specific features. You just answer the questions the best you can
, and when he shows you the picture, you can make suggestions.”

“Okay.”

The artist finished opening his sketchbook. “Miss Morris, is it?”

She nodded.

‘My name is George Stewart. Do you have any questions about Detective Strong’s instructions?”

“No. I think I understand.”

“Okay. Let’s begin with the basic shape of the face. Would you say it was round or long?”

“Long.”

“And would you say it was thin or wide?”

“Thin.”

The artist did some drawing.

“And the
eyes, were they close together, or wide set?”

“Close.”

“And his forehead, long or short?”

“What do you mean?”

“Would you say he had a big forehead or small?”

“Big.”

Jason moved over behind the artist so he could watch the picture take shape.

“And his nose, narrow or wide?”

And so it went for over a half an hour. Slowly, the picture in Stephanie Morris’ mind, came to be on the paper in front of Jason. He didn’t recognize him, but this was the face of the one holding his partner.

Jason planned to show the picture to Marcie Walker’s parents and friends. He still believed
Miss Walker was the key. It had to be someone in her life. The artist continued with questions.

“His skin. What tone was it, light or dark?”

“Well, one half was light, but one side of his face was covered with a birthmark.”

“Okay. The birthmark, which side of his face?”

“It was on my right, when I looked at him.”

“Okay, that’s his left. Was it brown, red
, or some other color?”

“It was red, almost purplish.”

“Like a Port Wine Stain?”

“I don’t know what that is.”

Jason stood straight up and looked at the artist. “What did you call it?”

“A Port Wine Stain. Why?”

Jason’s mind was going a mile a minute. The wine glasses. The bloodstain on each. It had to be the connection. “Our suspect would leave a wine glass at each scene.”

Stephanie’s eyes got big.
“I remember that! He took a wine glass out of his bag.”

Jason headed for the door.
“Finish the sketch, including the birthmark. I need to make a call.”

He glanced at his watch.

11:30.

*******

Vanessa’s arm was getting tired. She’d written the sentence at least a hundred times, maybe more. Occupying her mind by keeping a running total, she’d lost count at seventy-four. She had no idea how much time had gone by, but as long as she was writing, he’d leave her alone.

He
hadn’t left the room, just stood quietly watching. “That’s enough.”

Her heart stopped.

“Throw me the marker. Nicely.”

She turned and tossed the marker over by his feet.

His voice had lost all tone. It was dead, cold, and matter-of-fact. It matched his eyes.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she waited for what she assumed was the inevitable. He looked at her
, and then at the mattress in the middle of the room.

“Lay down over there.”

Vanessa didn’t move. The gun came up from his side and pointed at her. “Lay down over there, now.”

She crossed the room and climbed onto the mattress. Lying down, she curled into a fetal position
, with her back to him. She held her breath, tears starting to well up in her eyes. Then she heard the door open and close, the lock click, and silence.

She let her breath out.