Secrets Abound (Supernaturally Bound Book 1) (33 page)

BOOK: Secrets Abound (Supernaturally Bound Book 1)
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Later that night, I tried to clear my mind as I laid in bed, attempting to sleep. My fight with Cassie that I’d so successfully managed to avoid thinking about was on repeat in my head. I felt guiltier and guiltier with every replay. I couldn’t believe I’d called her a slut. I mean, sure, she had said some hurtful things as well, but she was drunk and I had been sober.

When my eyes finally became too heavy to keep open, images of Cassie flooded my mind. She was in a dark room, but there was no mistaking her blonde hair and skinny frame. I couldn’t quite place it, but there was something creepy about the room she was in. This dream felt the most realistic, thus far. My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, as if I were actually in the room with her. I scanned her body and realized her hands and feet were bound by rope. The shock of it woke me, instantly.

I called her phone a few more times, but it went straight to voicemail every time. Something was wrong. I could feel it in every bone in my body. I would have noticed it sooner had I not been so concerned with my anger at her. If something happened to her, it’d be entirely my fault. I had to do something. Knowing that if she was actually kidnapped, time was of the essence, and this couldn’t wait until the morning.

Getting dressed as speedily as possible, I found myself outside Aiden’s window. The room appeared empty, and I wondered if he was even home. His truck was in the driveway, so I tapped on the glass a couple of times. His bedroom door opened, and he sauntered over to the window.

“Bridget, what’s wrong?” He asked, instantly.

I wondered how he knew something was wrong. I was sure my face was too numb to express the cold terror that had been racing through me. That’s when I realized it was one o’clock in the morning, and I hadn’t been speaking to Aiden all day, so of course, when I knocked on his window, he would assume something was wrong.

“I think Cassie’s been taken.” I stared up at him through the open window.

“Come inside.” He offered me his hand, but I simply shook my head at him.

“No, I need to go to the police station. Right now. Can you give me a ride to Lincoln?” I asked, unsure of what my plan B was if he said no. Worry must have seeped through my voice because he leaned down closer to the window with concern on his face.

“You really think something happened to her?” He asked.

“I had a dream that she was tied up and hurt.” I told him. “I have a horrible feeling.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN
HAVING A KILLER TIME

 

By the time we entered the police station, I still had no idea how I was going to convince them that Cassie was missing. It wasn’t like I could simply say, “Hey, I had a dream that my best friend is tied up somewhere and I know it’s true because I have prophetic dreams from time to time.” No, I would just have to stick with the facts. No one had heard from her in a few days and she never checked out of the hotel. Surely, that’d be enough for them to look into it.

“Can I help you?” A frumpy woman sitting at the first desk asked unenthusiastically. In fact, she looked like she’d rather be doing anything other than helping us.

“I need to report someone missing.” I told her. She pointed over to a man sitting at a desk across the room. Well, I say sitting, but he was about a second away from falling over in his chair from leaning it too far back. “Hello.” I said, as I stood in front of his desk, startling him so much he almost did topple over in his chair.

“Oh, hi. Ahm, yes, how can I help you?” He said, quickly recovering. He smoothed out his uniform shirt. He grabbed a pen and notepad and glanced up at me expectantly.

“My friend is missing.” I told him.

“What’s your friend’s name?” He asked.

“Cassie Fields.” I answered, and he scribbled it down on his notepad.

“How long has she been missing?”

“Since last Tuesday night. We were staying at Luxury Suites, and she never checked out. They said all her things are still there.” I explained.

“Okay, how old is Cassie?”

“Sixteen.” I told him, and his eyes lifted from the notepad to meet mine.

“Sixteen? Why aren’t her parents here filling out a report?” He asked, suddenly skeptical of me.

“They’re out of town. They haven’t even realized she’s missing, yet.”

“Well, her parents will have to come fill out a missing person’s report before we can do anything.” He shut his notebook and tossed it onto the desk.

“Listen, this can’t wait until her parents get back to town. Two of my friends have been murdered and now one of them is missing. I desperately do
not
want her to end up like them.” I said, not realizing how loud my voice had gotten until two men in suits appeared out of an office. They seemed interested in our conversation and strolled over to the desk.

“Hello, I’m Agent Wilcox, and this is Agent Dimber. We’re working the Lincoln murders case. Now, what’s this about you knowing two of the murder victims?” The taller of the two asked.

“I knew Nicole and Jenny. Now, my friend Cassie is missing, and I’m worried something has happened to her, too.” I explained, hoping to get further with these guys than I did with the lazy cop. The two men exchanged a look that seemed to have a meaning only they could decipher.

“We’ll look into it. Leave us all of her information and yours, too.”

On the drive home, I thought of all the places I could search for Cassie, but it seemed unlikely I was going to find her merely hanging out at Old Man Fisher’s barn. I was at a loss for what I could do, and it seemed to be out of my hands, now.

“What are you thinking about?” Aiden asked.

“Cassie. I can’t get the image of her tied up and alone out of my head.” I admitted. “What if she’s not okay? What if the next time I see her, she’s dead?”
What if my last memory with her was our fight?
I continued in my head.

“You can’t think like that. If she’s been taken, they’ll find her.” He tried to reassure me.

“Just like they found Jenny and Nicole? They obviously still have no clue who the murderer is, so how can I trust them to find her alive?” I felt deflated.

I knew if there was any hope to finding Cassie alive, it would be up to me. However, I was at a loss on where to start. Then, a thought struck me and I knew what to do.

“So, what are you going to do?” He asked cautiously.

“Exactly like you said, I’m going to start at the beginning.” I told him.


Begin
at the beginning.” He corrected.

“Whatever, you know what I mean.”

“I’m not sure that I do.” He sounded confused.

“I need to go back to the beginning. I need to talk to the last person who was with Cassie.” I said resolutely.

“Bridget, please don’t do anything stupid.” His voice was filled with warning. “Let the police handle this. It’s their job to find her, not yours.”

“It’s stupid to try and find my best friend?” I asked.

“It’s stupid to seek out a serial killer, Bridget. Even if you find her, all you’ll accomplish is getting the
both
of you killed.” There was an edge of fear in his voice. “Promise me, you’ll leave it alone.”

“I can’t.” I knew he was probably right, but I also knew I had no other choice. I couldn’t just sit around while Cassie was being hurt,
or worse
.

“Bridget, this isn’t a game. This is life and
death
.” His grip tightened around the steering wheel.

“You think I don’t know that? It’s all I can think about.” I pressed my fingers into my eyes and rubbed them as if I could clear away the images.

“I’m not going to let you get yourself killed simply so you don’t feel guilty.” He dragged an agitated hand through his hair.

“There’s no
letting me
about it. I will find Cassie, and you can’t stop me.”

“Dammit, Bridge.” Aiden punched the steering wheel.

He used to have such a tighter control over his emotions, but recently, I had been a witness to more and more of them, mostly his anger. I guess I had pressed too many of his buttons, lately. I was finding that I had a knack for it.

“Aiden, this isn’t your problem. In fact, forget I even mentioned it.” I crossed my arms over my chest and sank further down into my seat.

“Forget that you’re going to end up getting yourself killed?” He said, exasperated.

“Well, apparently I’m going to die soon, anyway, so what difference does it make?”


What?
” He yelled.
Wrong thing to say.
I mentally bitch slapped myself.

“Nothing. Seriously, forget I even said that.”

“I have an eidetic memory, so that’s not going to happen.” He asserted.

“You never told me you had a photographic memory.” I said, shocked. I thought back to all my embarrassing moments with him and what this new revelation meant.
There was no chance he’d ever forget any of it.

“Do not change the subject. What did you mean you were going to die, soon?”

“I was kidding. I didn’t mean anything so just drop it.” I stared out the window, knowing if I looked at him at all, he’d be able to catch the lie. To my surprise, the truck slowed down until we were at a stop on the side of the highway. I turned to Aiden with wide eyes. “What are you doing?”

“We aren’t going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.” He jerked the truck into park.

“Then, I guess we aren’t going anywhere.” I told him.

“I’ve got all night.” He challenged.

“So do I.” I said, raising an eyebrow.

I started texting Eli. We made plans to hang out after school the next day. After twenty minutes of texting, I glanced over at Aiden who was waiting patiently without a word.

“If I tell you, it’s only going to freak you out, and there’s nothing you can even do.” I insisted.

“The hell there isn’t.” He asserted.

“What could you do, short of locking me up?” I asked. His expression told me that it was something he had considered. “That’s not going to happen.” I affirmed.

“Well then, tell me why you think you’re going to die so I can help you.”

I sighed in defeat. “I wasn’t completely honest when I told you about the ghost that’s been following me around.”

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“The whole reason she’s been following me is to warn me. She says someone is going to kill me. Well, it might be more than one person; she wasn’t very clear.” I knew telling Aiden wasn’t the best of ideas, but I needed to tell someone and, like always, here he was pushing me to open up.

“Why would you hide this from me? You don’t trust me to help?” His tone sounded offended.

“Oh, right because you act
so
rationally when my death is on the table. Or did you forget how you beat up my boyfriend after he was in a wreck?” I shot back.

“Okay, fine, but have you even stopped to think that what she’s warning you from is putting yourself in the middle of all this? That maybe you going after Cassie is
the reason
someone wants to kill you?” He asked. I hated when his reason was sound; especially, when it didn’t correlate with mine.

“No, I hadn’t, actually, but it doesn’t change anything. I’m not going to leave her to die.” I told him.

“Alright, then I’ll help you look for her, but you have to promise not to do
anything
without me, okay?” He studied my face as he asked this.

“Fine, I promise.” I lied without a single waver in my voice.

He needed to hear this and I needed to get home. I knew the danger that surrounded my decision to hunt for Cassie, but it wasn’t something I was willing to put Aiden in. I couldn’t tell if Aiden entirely believed me, but he did shift the truck back into drive and pulled out onto the highway.

The next day at school, the secretary announced over the speaker that I was to report to the counselor’s office, immediately. I could only imagine what I was in trouble for this time. As I waltzed into Mrs. Owens’ office, I was surprised to see the two agents from the night before. I felt hope spread through me as I acknowledged their presence to be a positive sign. It meant they were taking me seriously. I slid down into the chair across the desk from them, setting my bag down by my feet.

“Bridget, how are you doing today?” The taller of the two asked. I think his name was Wilcox. He had a very stern looking face that seemed to be standard in the FBI. Agent Dimber’s face wasn’t quite as hard as Agent Wilcox’s, but it might’ve been due to the age difference. Wilcox had a few years on Dimber, and that probably made all the difference in the world when it came to having your personality pounded out of you by protocol and orders.

“Can we skip the pleasantries? What did you find out?” I asked, leaning forward in my seat so as not to miss any subtle hints that might give away their thoughts. They exchanged another one of their looks that almost made them seem as if they were speaking telepathically.

“Well, we spoke to Cassie’s parents and did some asking around. It appears she has, indeed, gone missing. We haven’t ruled out the chance that she might have simply run away, but considering other factors, it would seem more likely that she was kidnapped.” Agent Dimber explained.

“What other factors?” I asked, as horror caused his words to echo through my head. They exchanged another look, and I felt my frustration overspill. “Just say whatever it is you two are thinking. She’s my best friend. I deserve to know.”

“Well, she matches the description of the other victims, and she was in Lincoln at the time of her disappearance.” Wilcox paused. “And then, there’s the fact that you were friends with two of the other victims. If Cassie has indeed been taken, then that would make it three.” He continued. When he referred to Cassie as a victim, my chest became almost too tight to breathe, but I acted natural. I needed to be strong. If I became a panicky mess, they would instantly shut down and not share any more information with me. Wilcox gave me a studious look before continuing. “There’s a significant chance that you are somehow connected with the killers.”

“What? You think I know the person who is doing this?” It seemed to click together in my mind, right then. Rosalie had said I’d known the person who wanted to kill me, and now they think I knew the killer. It had to be connected.

“We’ve brought our top psychological profilers in for this case. They believe you do.” Dimber explained.

I wasn’t sure how to react to this. On one hand, I was glad they were taking Cassie’s disappearance seriously, but on the other hand, I didn’t like how all their experts were sitting around discussing me. As if everything they could possibly need to know about me was in some file that listed my faults and shortcomings.

“We want to read to you the profile they put together and see if it rings any bells, okay?” Wilcox opened a folder and flipped through a few pages. I nodded my head and he began reading. “There are two subjects with the dynamic that of a dominant and submissive, most likely brothers or a father and son.”

“”Wait, there are two?” I asked, suddenly remembering how earlier they had said killers, not killer.

“Yes, one is younger and the submissive. He’s been brainwashed by the older, dominant subject who has convinced him of the need to play out a fantasy that has personal meaning to them.” Wilcox said.

My stomach rolled as the images of Nicole in the old fashioned wedding dress came flooding back. I didn’t want to think of the awful things she had gone through before she died and the awful things Cassie was probably going through, right now.

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