The Depth of Darkness (Mitch Tanner #1) (21 page)

Ella said, “Sure.”

I thanked him, and Ella and I went back
outside, got in the car and drove until we found cabin thirteen.
The gravel driveway beside the cabin was already occupied by a
black Acura. I parked behind the vehicle and told Ella to lock the
car doors and remain in there until I returned. I left my cell
phone with her in case anything happened to me. I hadn’t been by
the station, so I still had my pistol. Even if I had turned it in,
I would have brought my personal piece. I drew my gun and crept
around the side of the cabin, stopping just short of the front
corner. I heard a squeaking sound from the porch. I eased around
the edge and saw the back of a woman, seated on the porch swing
that hung by chains from the ceiling.

“Bridget?”

She put her foot down and stopped the swing’s
momentum. Her head turned toward me. She smiled. “I wondered when
you’d show up.”

“What are you doing here?” I continued around
and climbed the three stairs that led to the front porch. A fish
splashed in the water behind me.

“Turns out you’re not the only one who got
suspended.”

“What? Why?”

“Fraternizing.”

“Was someone outside my house?” I felt the
anger rise in my throat like bile.

She shook her head. “I’m under investigation.
They’ve got no real proof. My boss said I should be back on the job
in a couple days. Anyway, I figured I could use a few days away and
Sam mentioned you’d be out here.”

“Why would Sam care?”

She smiled and then shrugged. “I guess he has
some suspicions about us.”

“You shouldn’t have come out here,” I
said.

She leaned forward and placed her hands on
her knees. “I can leave, if you want.”

“I don’t want that,” I said. “But I’ve got my
daughter out here and I don’t want to confuse her.”

Bridget reached into her pocket and pulled
out a key fob identical to mine. “That’s why I’ve got my own cabin.
Number fourteen. Right there.” She aimed her finger across the
porch at an identical cabin positioned twenty feet away. “Now,
where is that daughter of yours?”

“Christ almighty. I’ll be right back.” I
jumped off the porch and ran around the cabin. Ella smiled when she
saw me. I waved for her to get out. She opened the door, raced up
to me and handed me my phone. Then she ran past me toward the
lake.

“Oh, that’s so pretty, Daddy. Can we go
swimming?”

“I suppose we could,” I said. “But there’s
snakes out there.”

“I don’t care.”

Bridget met us in front of the cabin. “I can
take her out, Mitch.”

“Who’s this, Daddy?”

“This is Special Agent Bridget Dinapoli,
Ella. She and Daddy were working on the same case. Turns out she
needed a vacation as well, and she ended up with the cabin next to
ours. Is it okay if she spends some time fishing and hanging out
with us?”

“Cool,” Ella said. Kids had it so easy. A new
friend. Cool. Let’s go chill.

And chill we did.

Terrence didn’t wait for me to come back to
the office. He pulled up next to the cabin in a golf cart and
honked three times. Sounded like a Tercel that had swallowed a
balloon full of helium.

“Give me a hand, Mitch,” he said.

I noticed that he had trouble moving his left
arm. There were no visible injuries. I gestured toward it and
asked, “What happened?”

He waved me off. “Come on, help with this
cooler.”

We unloaded the cooler and set it on the
porch. He opened the lid and pulled out two cans of Budweiser. Good
enough for me on this warm September afternoon. Then Terrence went
back to the golf cart and grabbed a tackle box, three rods and
reels, and a couple Styrofoam cups that I presumed contained worms
for bait. He dropped all the gear next to the steps and took a seat
next to me on the swing. I stared out past the rustic railing,
watching Bridget and Ella.

“Who’s the girl?” Terrence asked.

“Some FBI agent.”

“That’s all? You co-workers or something like
that?”

I turned toward him, smiled, said, “Something
like that.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. Looked like two
caterpillars dancing. “I saw you on the TV, Mitch.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nah,” he said, looking out over the water.
“Shame about those kids.”

I nodded and said nothing. What could be
said?

“Hope you find them.”

“Won’t be me, old friend.”

“Why’s that?”

“Bureaucratic BS.”

Terrence smiled and said, “If all bureaucracy
is bullshit, does that make all bullshit bureaucracy?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I
said, turning to face him. The ridiculous look on his face along
with the dancing caterpillars on his forehead caused me to laugh.
Terrence joined in. It turned into one of those moments where
everything reaches that tipping point and you can’t control
yourself. Funny how two grown men could turn into eleven-year-old
boys when paired up again.

The sound of Ella screaming “Daddy” put an
end to that.

The dark never let up, it seemed, to Debby.
When they put her inside the trunk of the car, she began counting
the seconds. She’d almost reached one-thousand before she fell
asleep. She’d awaked a couple times, maybe the car had hit a bump
or come to a stop, causing her small body to roll.

When the trunk had finally opened, she could
tell it was no longer dark outside. Though the hood over her head
prevented her from seeing anything, stray rays of sunlight
penetrated the dark fabric.

Hands wrapped around her upper arm and her
thigh. She stifled a pained scream, fearing that if she yelled out
it would result in a hand across her face. Those hands pulled her
from the vehicle and lifted her into the air. She felt a breeze
against her exposed skin, for a moment at least. A door opened,
squeaking on rusted hinges. The light and the cool air faded. The
door closed with a high pitched squeal.

An odor pervaded the hood that covered her
head. What was it? Mold? Mildew? Was that what a musty smell
actually smelled like?

Debby resisted the urge to ask where she was.
It didn’t matter if she knew. Someone else needed to know. Someone
who would risk their life to save hers.

Was there such a person? And if so,
where?

It was easy for Debby to give up hope. She
meant nothing to anyone.

“Don’t you friggin move,” the guy said to
her, setting her down on the ground. His words echoed a few times,
softer and softer with each renewed call, leaving Debby to wonder
about the structure they were in.

The floor was cold, hard and damp. She pulled
her legs to her chest so that the only bare skin touching the
ground were the soles of her feet. She heard the guy grunting and
the sound of something being moved, maybe slid, to the side across
the floor. A cool draft slid past her. The musty mildew-mold smell
intensified. She wanted to gag or sneeze, but stifled the urge for
fear of retribution.

Slow deliberate footsteps approached. The
guy’s ragged breath came with them. She felt him hovering over her.
He sniffled. Fabric grated against an unshaven face. She thought of
her brother sanding down a birdhouse he’d made a year ago for shop
class. He’d hung it from a tree branch outside her window. She
recalled watching as the first bird circled, then landed, eating
the food that she’d placed inside. She stared in horror as her
brother shot that bird with his pellet gun. It stiffened and then
fell out of sight.

Like that bird, would this be Debby’s final
house?

“Get up,” the guy said.

She placed her palms on the floor and pushed
herself up. His sweaty hand wrapped around the back of her neck. If
she walked too slowly, he pushed her. Too fast, he squeezed and
pulled back. She let him guide her across the room.

“Duck your head,” he said.

She lowered her head and took another step
forward. His hand released from her neck. She reached her arms out
in front, then to the side. Her left hand grazed something solid.
It was cool and dry. She took a small step to the left.

“Don’t turn around,” the guy said, tugging
the hood off her head. “I’ll kill you if you do.”

She heeded his words. She didn’t want to look
back anyway. At first glance, the room had no light source. She had
to take in every inch of it before he closed whatever barrier would
stand between her and freedom. There was shuffling behind her. Was
he entering the room? Now she wanted to look, but didn’t.

“I’m leaving you with some food and water,
girl,” he said. “Should be enough to keep you going for a week,
maybe two if you ration. Someone should be along to collect you by
then. If we don’t forget about you, that is.”

Debby began to cry.

“Don’t worry, girl. If you don’t want to
prolong it, don’t eat. Or eat it all at once. Nature will take its
course. Simple, really.”

Panic set in. Debby began to hyperventilate.
The guy’s footsteps traveled away from her. He grunted as something
slid along the ground. The light began to fade. The grinding sound
stopped. The room turned dark.

Debby found herself in the dark, again. Would
she ever see the light?

Yes, she thought. She reached inside her
front pocket and pulled out the little flashlight from Beans’s
backpack. Turning it on, she spun around in a half-circle and saw
the rations she’d been left with. A six pack of large water bottles
and a loaf of bread. Ration that over two weeks? Yeah, right. Maybe
the guy was on to something. Maybe she should just give up.

She couldn’t, though. Not yet. She still had
hope. The room was fairly large, to a nine year old. She walked to
the back wall. The room rose toward the middle and then sloped
downward. She hadn’t been able to see the floor until she got close
to the rear of the room. There she found a shovel. The blade was
orange with rust, and long splinters dangled from the handle. She
picked it up, and using it like a spear, attacked the back wall. To
her surprise a small chunk of the wall fell to the floor. There
might be a chance, she thought. She could get out alive, maybe, if
she broke through the wall.

From the other side of the room she heard
someone banging against the door. She extinguished her light,
placed the shovel flat on the ground and returned to the opposite
side of the room.

The banging continued for five to ten
minutes. The longest five or ten minutes of Debby’s life. And
there’d been plenty of minutes that had stretched to eternity
lately. Too many, in fact. She waited in anticipation for the door
to open and for the guy to discover her plans. But it never did. He
never came back. The banging stopped and Debby found herself alone
in the dark room with an instrument that could lead her to
freedom.

Ella’s scream jarred me back to reality. I
launched myself from the bench. Ignoring the stairs, I placed my
hand on the railing and vaulted over it. The drop was further than
I anticipated and the ground uneven. I let my legs buckle and I
rolled forward. A second later I found my footing and was up racing
toward Ella and Bridget. They’d walked along the lakefront,
disappearing behind a thick row of trees.

A thousand thoughts went through my mind.
First and foremost, I feared that Roy Miller-Michael Lipsky had
found us. I pictured the guy stalking through the woods, waiting
for the right moment to snatch my little girl. I decided then and
there I would act as judge, jury, and executioner if I saw him.

With my pistol in my right hand, I sprinted
as hard and as fast as I could, pushing beyond the limits my lungs
tried to place upon me. As I rounded the trees, I heard Terrence’s
golf cart whining behind me. He shouted my name a couple times. I
didn’t bother to look back. Not with only a few feet remaining
between me and whatever had frightened my daughter.

When I had them in view, I came to an
immediate stop.

“What the hell is going on?” I said between
heavy breaths.

Bridget lifted her arm. Ella stood a few feet
away, smiling and pointing at the snake dangling from Bridget’s
hand.

“Ella, get away from there!” I shouted.

Bridget smiled and said, “Relax, Mitch. It’s
only a water snake.”

My hands shook from the heavy shot of
adrenaline I’d taken. I said, “Then why is it on land?”

Both of them laughed at me. Terrence, who’d
joined me on foot and now stood beside me, joined them.

“I’m glad you all think this is funny.” I
patted my chest. “About gave me a heart attack.” Another deep
breath, with a loud exhale. “Why’d you scream like that, Ella?”

Ella bent forward, placed her hands on her
knees and laughed harder.

“She almost stepped on him,” Bridget said.
“She was scared. I reached down and scooped this little guy
up.”

“Better get rid of him before I blow his head
off.” I aimed my pistol at the sky for emphasis.

“Oh, he’s not going to hurt anyone. I used to
find them everywhere when I was a kid in Florida. Used to bring
them home and keep them as pets until my mom found them and made me
bring them back to the lake.”

Ella looked at me with wide eyes. “Oh, can I
keep him, Daddy? Please?”

“Not only no,” I said. “Hell no. Now put that
thing back in the water where it belongs.”

“Come on, Ella,” Bridget said, taking her by
the hand. “Let’s release him.”

Ella whined a bit, but she had no choice in
the matter. I’d denied her request to get a dog. What made her
think I’d let her keep a snake?

Terrence placed a hand on my shoulder. “Come
on. Let’s get those poles in the water.”

I gladly hitched a ride on the golf cart back
to the cabin. We grabbed a few beers, the rods and some bait.
Bridget and Ella met us at the dock. It was a good eight feet wide
and extended fifty feet out over the lake right to the channel,
Terrence had said. Where the big catfish lurked.