Inferno (15 page)

His sluggish gait, hampered further by a limp, brought him to just outside my reaching radius.  “Hello dear,” he whispered kindly, placing a bag down and nudging it forward in my direction.  “I thought you might be hungry so I brought you some food.  It’s not much, but it’s all I could sneak out without the Mistress knowing.”

“Who are you?” I questioned quietly, hoping that maybe I had found an ally.

“You’re better off not knowing.  Can’t have you accidently saying my name in front of her.  She mustn’t know I’ve been to see you.  Bad business that would be.”

“Who is she?” I asked.  “And what does she want with me?”

“I can’ts be telling you more,” he said sadly, hobbling backwards toward the door, bathing me once again in darkness.

********************

Ethan and the gang had spent all day scouring the city and contacting everyone they remembered Lexie ever mention.  A large conference room in the city building was now acting as a makeshift command center.  Ethan’s father was acting as liaison between the group and his connections at the police station.  Frank increased the pressure and called in favors to several high ranking politicians when her car was discovered in an abandoned lot, doors unlocked with her purse and cell phone still inside.  His efforts resulted in Lexie’s picture running every thirty minutes on the local television stations.

The group had grown in size to include Sophia, Elle, and several more of Ethan’s family.  The Stewart’s were funneling in, visibly distraught over the disappearance of their adopted family member.  Kathleen and Sara both made appearances throughout the evening, hoping for good news.  

Maps, of the city and outlying areas, are systematically charted every time an area is searched.  Clues to her whereabouts, and the persons involved, were nonexistent.  Phone records revealed the threatening messages and numerous hang up calls were made using a burner phone, and techs found no unexpected prints or fibers from the break in.  The awful truth was they had absolutely no leads.     

Ethan was pacing back and forth, growling and accusing the officers of displaying not enough effort to find his missing person.  He resembled a caged animal, agitated and aggressive, wanting to attack but physically prevented from capturing his prey.  Tank and Sebastian were both monitoring Ethan’s anxiety level, ready to step in to help forcefully restrain him if he demonstrated any signs that his verbal confrontations would turn bodily. 

Tips flooded in, and the police were attempting to follow up swiftly, prioritizing by the most probable first.  Around nine, a call came in from a woman describing a four door, gray, 1990’s era Lincoln Town Car she had seen in the vicinity of Glenwood and Wood Haven last night.  The passenger appeared passed out and matched Lexie’s picture on TV.  She didn’t see the driver, but the vehicle was headed out of town towards the old farming district.  Without any other reliable leads, two squads were dispatched to investigate. 

********************

I sat in silence for a few minutes after the old guy left, listening for any more approaching steps.  I snatched the bag he left, gingerly opening it, afraid that it might be some type of trick.  Instead, the smell of ham wafted up, and I pulled out the sandwich inside.  I inspected it the best I could in the dark, and took a tentative bite.  Not tasting anything foul, I devoured the rest.  I figured that if I got a shot at getting out of here, I needed to be as strong and level headed as possible.  Starving would be counterproductive. 

The crickets singing outside of my prison walls and my thoughts are my only company.  My cell became pitch black, and I lean against the wall, dozing off for short periods.  I spent my waking hours thinking about what I would say to the people that I love if I ever saw them again.  I faintly heard what I thought were cars passing somewhere in the distance. 
If I could only get out of here and to that road, maybe I could flag down some help
.  This sparked an imaginary carousel of successful rescue attempts.  Some were completely of my own doing, while others included my gang of friends.  And yes, Ethan starred in a few himself. 

Chapter Eighteen

“IF ONE MORE PERSON TELLS ME THAT I NEED TO EASE UP AND STAY CALM, I WILL PUT YOU THROUGH THAT WALL!” Ethan threatened the room.  “SHE’S BEEN MISSING FOR OVER THIRTY-SIX HOURS.  CORRECTION, SOME
NUT JOB
HAS HAD HER FOR OVER THIRTY-SIX HOURS, DOING WHO KNOWS WHAT TO HER.  I WILL NOT SETTLE DOWN UNTIL I SEE HER SAFE WITH MY OWN EYES!”

Unable to contain the frustration and anger at being in a helpless situation and his fear at the possibilities of what Lexie was enduring, Ethan let out an anguished howl, throwing a heavy chair and breaking it into pieces.  Understanding the turmoil churning inside him because she felt it too, Makayla approached Ethan.  Wrapping her arms around him, she offered comfort and solidarity the only way she knew how.

********************

Scraping at the front of the building had me tensing in my corner.  The door creaked open, and the old man shuffled in carrying a cup and another sandwich.

“We have to hurry, she’ll be back soon,” he said handing me the items.

I took a greedy gulp of water before speaking around a mouthful of food.  “Thanks.”

“Just trying to do what I can to make things a little easier on you.”

The guilt etched on his wrinkled face puzzled me.  “Why do you do it?”  Now it was his turn to look confused.  “You know what she’s doing is wrong, and it’s obvious that you don’t like it.  So why don’t you do something to stop her?”

Understanding crossed his face.  “Ah yes.  I guess that is how it would appear from your point of view.  She wasn’t always like this.  When I promised that I would always take care of her, she was a good little girl.  I don’t know what caused the switch,” he said with a sad shake of his head.  He stared off into the gloom, looking at something only he could see.  “She was like two different people.  One day she was my sweet, loving little Lizzie, and the next day she was cruel.  After a time, her compassion was gone.  Her warm personality turned ice cold.  It was like she lost her soul. 

Looking back now, I suppose that maybe she was always a little hard, but she needed me.  A child can’t care for themselves.  She played her game, even then.  I can see that now.  Seeing as that she is now grown, I’m no longer needed.  I fear what she might do.”

“You’re afraid of her.”  It wasn’t really a question, but he answered anyway.

“Yes, I think I am.  She has locked me away out here in this broken down house.  I have no phone, no car, and rarely does anyone ever drive past.  I am completely at her mercy, much like you.  I’m sorry child, but I have to go before she finds me here.”

“I understand.”  And I did, he was in a fragile place in his life without the ability to fight back and with no one to fight for him.  He bent to grab the cup, and I’m struck with an idea, silently praying he will grant my request.  “Can I ask a favor?”

“If it’s within my capacity, I will try.”

I gave him a dejected smile before asking.  “Can I keep your watch?  So I can track the time I’m here.”

Wordlessly, he removed the timepiece and handed it to me.

Score!

********************

The conference door opened and everyone turned to see a short man, wearing khaki pants and a burgundy button up cardigan, hesitate just inside the door.  He looked distressed to see so many people gathered in the room.  When he failed to move past the entrance, Detective Carlson went to him.

“Is there something I can help you with sir?” Detective Carlson inquired.

The man looked around at all of the faces staring, waiting to hear his response.  He turned nervously to the Detective and stammered, “I th-th-think I know who-who took Alexis R-Reed.”

Carlson introduced himself as the Detective in charge and showed the man to a long table, encouraging him to have a seat.  At the man’s declaration, Ethan ate up the distance between them, prompting the detective to signal him to back off and give the skittish man some room.

“Ok sir, first, how about you tell me your name and why you think you know who abducted Ms. Reed.”

“Jerry Boyer, th-that’s my name.”

“You work with Lex at Bridgestone, right?” Ethan interjected.

Jerry offered a shy smile and nodded, pleased that Alexis had mentioned him to her friends.

Regaining control of the interview, Carlson addressed the man, “Alright Mr. Boyer, can you tell me how you discovered the kidnapper’s identity.”

“I d-don’t have very m-many friends.  Most p-people ignore me and don’t re-re-m-member I’m th-there.  P-people talk and I listen,” he elucidated.  “I heard s-someone on the ph-phone but the voice wasn’t r-right.  So I looked t-to see who it was.  D-didn’t think anything else about it.  Then a few w-weeks later, I h-heard Alexis talk about the m-messages sh-she got.”

“Are you talking about the threatening messages left on her home machine?” the Detective asked for clarification.  At Jerry’s affirmative nod, the detective asked another question.  “Was the altered voice Ms. Reed described the same as the one you overheard?”

“I couldn’t b-be sure, b-but something didn’t feel right, s-so I did some digging.  I s-searched through everything we had on th-this person and it d-didn’t add up.  I contacted some p-people I know b-by email to check out the-the references and backg-ground better. They got back to m-me this m-morning.”

Jerry handed a file folder over to Detective Carlson.  The detective began flipping through pages of information, in some cases, re-reading the documents.  Finally, he looked up at Jerry.  “Why wouldn’t this information have been in the initial employment checks?”

“We d-didn’t do the check.  The University p-provides those for interns.”

********************

I got the old guy’s watch apart and fashioned a crude pin.  It took probably fifty tries, but I was eventually able to hit the correct mechanism, releasing the lock connecting the chain and hook.  I may still be stuck with the cumbersome chain and cuff, but at least now I could move around.  Of course, the first thing I tried was the door.  My hopes that gramps may have ‘forgotten’ to lock the door were fleeting.  Next, I felt around the damp walls of the room, searching for a spot soft enough to carve an opening.  I was able to get several large chunks to fall from a few corners but nowhere near enough to stamp out a hole.    

That left me with no choice.  I really did not want to hurt the old guy, but I don’t want to be stuck in here more.  No, my only option is to overpower him the next time he comes to visit.  I sat against the wall, conserving my energy for my great escape.  I heard voices outside the door. 
Shit, they’re both here
.  I dangled the chain through the loop on the wall and stood in my usual spot, waiting.

The door unbolted, and the old man flashed me an apologetic smile before stepping back outside.  Replacing him in the entryway was a woman of average height.  Her vintage wide bottom, high waisted, red pants and retro dark blue blouse clashed wildly with her purple hair.  I decided to continue my ruse until I figured out if she was friend or foe.

“Sara? Is that you?  How did you find me? Where is everyone?” I questioned in what I hoped came across as a mixture of stunned and relieved.

“Yeah, it’s me.  I found you because I was the one who put you here.  Sorry, but no one is coming for you.”  She laughed manically.  “Although,” she paused, “that boyfriend of yours has been a pain in my ass.  He’s a persistent fucker, won’t let the heat die down long enough for me to carry out the rest of my plan.”

I was contemplating the girl with whom I had spent so much time, and it was exactly as the old man describe.  The Sara I knew was sweet and caring.  Always smiling and having a good time.  The person in front of me was a stranger.  The softness was gone, and in its place was an intense violence that completely changed her appearance.

“I don’t understand.  How did you get me here? And why?”

“That didn’t go as planned either,” she said bitterly.  “This should have been over with months ago, but you’re constantly surrounded by people!  Do you know how irritating that has been?  It was just dumb luck that I saw your car parked outside
Inferno
.  And you, being the dumb ditz that you are, didn’t bother locking the doors,” she sneered.  “You didn’t even notice me crouched in your back seat.  I just had to bide my time for the right moment, and you were helpful enough to pull into that empty lot for me.  A stun gun knocked you out, and a syringe full of tranquilizers kept you that way.”

“I still don’t understand why?  I don’t have anything you could possible want.”

“YOU HAVE EVERYTHING!” she screamed.  “You have everyone eating out of the palm of your hand.  Every person at that stupid company sings the praises of the great and wonderful Alexis Reed.”

Using a fake, nasally, high-pitched voice, she began to mimic the flattery.  “Alexis Reed, she is so creative.  I love working with Alexis; she has so much talent and completes everything before schedule.  I want Reed on my team.”

I stared at her dumbfounded, but she wasn’t finished ranting yet.  “I’m so sick of hearing it.  I should be the one they are begging to work with.  I should be the one given the promotions and best assignments.  Everyone should be pleading with me to call them my friend.  I’m the one that should be admired.  Not a charlatan like you,” she spat.

Sara is working herself into a state of rage.  I don’t know what she has planned, but I definitely know I don’t want to be a part of it.  I position myself in front of the looped chain, quietly lifting so that it is resting in my hand.  Then I wait, watching for a chance to strike, while she continues to preach her sermon.  A noise from outside the building causes her to turn and triggers my movement.  I slam into her profile, knocking us both through the gap to land on the hard ground beyond.

********************

“Alright people!” Detective Carlson barked.  “I want to know everything about Elizabeth Sara Pack, and I want it yesterday!”

Bella approached the detective, handing him her cell phone.  “I have a picture of her that was taken last week if that helps.”

Carlson grabbed the phone and threw it to a guy in uniform.  “Make sure everyone receives a copy of that photo immediately.”

A rookie, fingers flying over his keyboard, yelled to his superior.  “Got something over here!”

Ethan and the detective reached the young recruit at the same time, and he began to read the screen aloud.

“Elizabeth Sara Pack… also known as Lizzie Pack… also known as Sara Monroe.  She is twenty-three years old and originally from Andover, Kansas.  Her mother is deceased, and there is no father listed.  Former guardian is a Stanley Francis Monroe.  She is a high school graduate and attended Henderson State University in Arkadelphia, Arkansas, dropping out her sophomore year.  That same year, the Pennsylvania courts ordered her to be admitted into an inpatient psychiatric treatment center for hallucinate behaviors resulting in extreme aggression.”

“Check records for any properties or rentals listed under any of her aliases and known associates,” Carlson ordered. 

The young officer tapped out commands, rapidly flipping through screens until he found what he was looking for.  “Sara Monroe is renting a house at 127 Fairfax Lane.”  After relaying that information, he resumed his hunt.

“There is also a property listed under a Francis Pack.  Fifty acres located at 53789 County Road 72, Beckwood.”

“Pull the second address up on the satellite,” the detective ordered.

Within a few key strikes, an aerial view of the property appeared on the screen.  “Zoom in there,” he directed, pointing to an area containing several structures.  The real time adjustments took less than a minute to focus.  He scrutinized the image, his hawk eyes scanning intently.  At last, Carlson pointed to a small building behind the main house.  “I want to see that.”  He studied the new frame for a split second before directing his troops to move out, Ethan quick on his heels.

Jack stepped up to the fledgling cop, demanding to know what was happening.  The young man pointed to the screen, revealing the trunk area of a car poking out from a ramshackle building.  “That matches the description of a gray Lincoln called in on a tip.  The caller believes Ms. Reed was the passenger.  The property is owned by what we believe is another one of Ms. Pack’s aliases.”   

Chapter Nineteen

We landed with a thud, knocking the wind from us both, and causing the gun I didn’t know she had, to skid into the grass.  I recovered first, jumping to my feet, prepared to run, but Sara rolled grabbing my ankle.  I fell to my hands and knees, kicking out behind me wildly.  I was trying to gain my feet when she tackled me from behind.  My head hit the ground, and the force from the fall pushed my face across the rocky earth.

We tussled, both rolling and trying to get the upper hand.  Instead, we succeeded only in tangling ourselves in the chain still connected to my wrist.  Sara threw a wild punch, making contact with the hard ground.  I bucked, pushing her to the side, and scrambling to my feet.  I jerked the chain linking us, wrenching her arm with it, and causing her to cry out in pain and fury. 

Sara came up swinging a weathered board, dingy white paint barely noticeable.  I jumped back in an attempt to avoid the blow, but a long rusted nail ripped a slash along my upper arm.  Warm rivulets glided down my extremity, coloring the ground red.  She swung again, connecting wholly, but not with me.  Unnoticed during our struggle, we had shifted closer to where the old man was standing.  Sara hit him square in the chest, knocking him to land on his back.  The aged beam split in two, one piece still in Sara’s clenched hands.  The other board nailed to the old man’s chest, blood oozing from underneath, watering the green grass.