They cut back to the news reporter. “Police are investigating Sarah’s account to verify whether or not it was indeed a kidnapping. Due to the recent kidnappings locally, they are taking accounts such as these very seriously. They are looking to see if there have been any reports of a missing woman, though it’s only been a few hours, so it’s unlikely anyone would have made any such reports at this time.”
I turn away from the television, the sounds around me blurring together. Am I dreaming? Terin takes night classes at Bellevue Community College. She drives a black two-door Subaru. It’s just a coincidence. It’s not her. But I haven’t heard from her since the day before yesterday, either…I need my damn phone, but I left it behind, again. I’m not used to carrying it these days. I turn to the customer sitting three stools down from me. “Excuse me, sir?”
The older gentleman glances up from his phone and offers a raised brow my direction. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, but would you allow me to borrow your cell phone for just a moment? It’s a bit of an emergency.”
He looks at the phone in his hand, clearly reluctant to hand it over. Then shrugs and leans over, his hand outstretched. “I guess, but don’t mess with my Bejeweled game.”
I stand and grasp the phone. “Of course. I won’t touch your game. It’ll just take me one minute.”
Time slows down and barely moves as I hold the phone to my ear and wait an eternity while the empty rings echo on the other side. Hope rises when Terin’s spastic voice comes over the line, then quickly plummets as I realize it’s just her recorded greeting. I hang up and redial. Three times. The man stares at me with growing impatience. I let the last recording play out and wait for the beep.
“Hey, Ter, just me. Damn it, I wish I had my phone. I’ll try your work number.” Ignoring the way the man stirs in his chair and clears his throat, I dial Terin’s work number. It’s almost two in the afternoon. She’d better be there. As it rings, I turn away so I don’t have to watch the way the man glares at me.
“Northwest Property Management Group. This is Barbara, how may I help you?”
“Hi, Barbara. This is Tessa. I’m trying to reach Terin. Do you think you could put her on the line for me?”
“Well, I would, but she didn’t come in today. Kind of odd too, because she hasn’t called in and she had a meeting this afternoon that she missed. Not like her to do that. I’m assuming she’ll be in tomorrow, though. Can I put you through to her voicemail so you can leave a message?”
The world tilts and I feel like I might pass out. “She didn’t come in?” I ask in a low whisper, more to myself than to Barbara. “No, no voicemail. Thanks, bye.” Before she can answer, I hit the end call button and hand it over. “Thanks.”
I can’t take it. I turn and bolt out of the café.
I run down the street. It’s a long walk to my apartment, but I can make it in just over ten minutes if I run. I need my car. My wet clothes cling to my skin, strangling me. Terin’s beguiling face chases after me. I know she’s out there. Terrified. Somehow, I think she’s the next one. I killed Vance and Jake. Still, the man who hired them remains, and he could have hired a couple of other Jakes and Vances. Could it really have been Tom? After tonight, I know it had to have been. Whoever it was, he’s out there. Wanting his next film. Thirsty for it.
Maybe I’m crazy, but I don’t think so. She’s his next victim. Even if she’s not, we all know it won’t end well. I cringe, thinking of her next few hours or days. It is one of violence and terror. I want to pull my hair out. I want to scream. I can’t stand the idea that I know her fate.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
Pacing, pacing, pacing. I bite my nails to the quick and continue to pace my living room. My hands shake. It’s almost three in the afternoon and after being up most of the night and all damn day, I need sleep, but I can’t even stand to lie down for more than a minute or two. After checking Terin’s apartment and all her common hangouts, she remains nowhere to be found. I should call Tobin. I should report her as the missing woman. But I’m afraid his questioning will slow me down. I’m afraid he won’t believe anything I’d tell him about Tom. And even if I did trust Tobin, how can I turn over the search to a slow, bureaucratic process, knowing that Terin is out there somewhere, suffering?
I need to find a way to fix it. Think. I run a hand through my hair and plop down in the middle of the living room floor, muttering to myself. Think, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay, think. Thoughts jumble together, weaving in and out, almost making sense at times, and then spreading out into thin, incoherent fragments. Who am I kidding? This is hopeless. No one can save her.
But I have to. I have to find her.
On my belly, I drag the small box out from under my bed, hitting my head on the frame as I slither backward. Barely fazed, I sit back on my haunches and open the box. Before, this godforsaken SD card represented nothing but horror to me. Now…I pray that it has answers. I wish I had thought to grab some or all of the DVDs from Tom’s house. I guess I’m still on a learning curve as a criminal.
In my living room, I sit on the couch and watch every painful moment, reliving it all over again. I tremble. The girl on the screen is unrecognizable to me. I no longer understand her. She cries. She sleeps. She doesn’t fight back, not at first anyway. And now, when I watch her, all I see is Terin in her same position. Somewhere out there. Behind all of it is Tom. Other than the videos I found in his home, I don’t have proof that he is linked to my kidnapping, but I know it beyond a doubt. Disgust weeps from my bones. He will pay, I’ll make sure of that. But right now, I have to find her.
I try to ignore the woman on the screen and focus on listening to all conversation, hoping Jake or Vance will say something that offers a clue.
The scene where they hose me down plays out. I cringe, remembering the frigid water, the humiliation. As I walk back into the cabin, it looks even smaller than I remember. Hatred seethes through every pore of my body. I’ll burn that damn cabin down someday. Burn it to the ground.
Vance’s handheld camera work is amateur at best, and I feel motion-sick just from watching the jerky footage. He follows the girl through the cabin and into the claustrophobic bedroom where a single bed sits. Jake leads the way. The girl shivers and cries, mumbling incoherent sentences, her shoulders hunched in defeat as she scuffles to the bed and lies down in the fetal position. Broken. I want to slap her.
Jake glances down at his clothing. “Shit, I’m all wet.” His brow furrows but his tone remains flat. “Look what you did. Now I have to change.” Without another word, he stomps out of the room. It’s déjà vu as the entire scene plays out before me.
The room bounces and spins as Vance crosses the room and places the camera back on the tripod in the corner. The image stabilizes like a sailor finally setting foot on land.
The girl lies on the bed, comatose, as Vance marches out of the room and returns minutes later with a wool blanket on hand. He crouches beside her and covers her with it.
Jake’s raspy voice bellows out from the other room. “Why the fuck did we have to use this damn place? There’s no bathroom and no running water inside the cabin. What the hell?”
Vance stands and walks to the doorway. “Because the boss said we had to stay away from the other place. He didn’t say why, but I’m guessing he doesn’t want the last two girls linked in any way. I don’t know why he’s worried about it, though. He owns both cabins. They’re his private property and they’re under another name. No one’s going to find either place. He’s just paranoid. If you ask me, the fucker is crazy. Why else would he hire anyone to do this shit?”
Jake responds, but he’s no longer yelling, and I can’t make out what he’s saying. Vance leaves the room. The girl sleeps.
I turn it off. I have what I need. Tom has another cabin and I need to find out where it is. I chew on my lower lip and weigh out my options. Should I call Tobin and tell him what I know? Maybe he could help me find the c
abin. I shake my head. I can’t imagine the police handling this the right way. Not my way, anyway.
I have to get back inside Tom’s house. I’ll find the location of the other cabin there. I’m not sure I can bear it knowing that Terin is out there. Time is our enemy. I can’t wait. I’ll have to take a chance and go now. God willing, he’ll be gone.
***
My leg muscles cramp and quiver, threatening to give out as I crouch low in a closet in one of the upstairs spare bedrooms. Sweat drips down my spine and into the crevice of my ass. The air around me feels thick, but I know it’s just my own fear. I hesitate to take a deep breath for fear he’ll hear me.
I’d been searching his bedroom and the study where I found the videos for the better part of the last hour, and came up empty-handed and frustrated. On my way down the hall with a plan of heading downstairs, I stopped in mid-step when I heard the front door open and a single pair of footsteps enter the home. How had I not heard the car pull up in the driveway?
Now, I hold my breath and pray for guidance as I search my brain for a plan. The irrational side of me wants to bust out of this damn closet and kill that motherfucker with my bare hands. Immediate and exacting revenge. I want it so bad I can taste it. But then I’d never find out where Terin is. He’d never tell me. She’d die before anyone could find her. I can’t let that happen.
My legs spasm harder, so I carefully stand and allow the blood to flow back into them. I keep close to the wall. Even though the sliding door of the closet is pulled shut, I still imagine that he can somehow see me.
It feels like a lifetime passes as I hover in my hiding place and listen to the sounds of his footfalls ascending the stairs, retreating to his bedroom, turning on the shower, opening dressers. At nearly four in the afternoon, I’m surprised he’s already home. Maybe his schedule alters when he knows one of his victims is out there. Does it give him pleasure? Does he anticipate his prize? How did I ever care for this monster?
Even after the sounds of his movements dissipate and the house settles, I remain stoic in my refuge. My mind runs wild with ideas both desperate and insane. What will benefit Terin?
When I hear his bedroom door close, I assume he’s hopping into the shower. Maybe preparing to go out to dinner? I creep out of my hiding place, every movement painfully slow in my effort not to make a single sound. I cringe with every infinitesimal creak of the wood floors beneath my feet. As I approach the top of the stairs, a wave of dizziness overtakes me and I grasp the railing. I take in two, slow deep breaths, and realize I’ve been holding my breath too long. When I recover, I start the steady descent down the stairs, begging the universe for mercy.
When I reach the bottom, I pause, disoriented. I’ve never been here before. I peek around one wall and see an open-concept living room and a kitchen with vaulted ceilings. I know the garage is on that side of the home as well.
Peering around the other direction, I see there is another living space. I take a step down and feel plush carpet beneath my sneakers. A massive television and stereo system line one wall. Cush leather recliners sit opposite. This is his entertainment area. A short hallway leads out of the room. I tiptoe across and down the hall. A guest bathroom sits to the right. At the end is another doorway. I imagine another bedroom. It takes every muscle in my body to turn that doorknob as slowly and quietly as possible. I feel like I might pass out before I’m done with this escapade of mine.
As the door opens, I’m surprised to see an oddly tiny and cramped space, not quite large enough to quantify as a bedroom but not quite small enough to be a closet. I close the door behind me, then turn and address the contents of the room. A few boxes are stacked in the left corner. A huge, burdensome armoire stands with fortitude against the wall. Likely an old heirloom passed down over generations. Beautifully crafted seventeenth-century-style swords and knives of various size decorate one wall. The other wall is full of a vast display of framed paintings. There’s very little wall left visible. It’s overdone and gaudy. Most disturbing are the images.
All of them convey the same terrifying images of blood lust, sacrifice, and gratuitous violence. I feel the blood from my upper body drop down to my toes as another wave of vertigo overpowers me. I lower myself to the floor and put my head between my knees. What is wrong with this man? How does someone become such a demonic savage?
When I’m able to stand again, I make my way to another large cabinet that stands against the third wall. It’s covered in intricate carvings, and when I step closer to inspect it further, I’m disturbed by more violence etched into the wood. Gothic pictures of what looks like ancient blood sacrifices and rituals decorate what would otherwise be a lovely piece of furniture. This entire room gives me the creeps. And yet another window into Tom’s multi-spectrum persona.
A creak of the floor above me causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. I freeze and wait for any further sounds. The silence is deafening. I resume my inspection of the room and open the doors of the carved cabinet. The doors are heavy and swing open. I’m surprised to see more artifacts that look like ancient relics of the Middle Ages. Desperate to hurry and be on my way, I close the doors and turn toward the armoire. I’m surprised to see that there are filing cabinets built inside of it. So odd.
I pull one drawer out at a time and see that there are numerous types of documents inside. One is labeled passport and identification. Another is labeled insurance. A third is labeled mother’s estate and will. These are Tom’s personal documents. My heart skips a beat as hope rises. I open the next set of files and see two more labels. One says debts. The other says assets.
With shaky hands I thumb through the assets file and hit gold. Bank statements, mortgage papers, financial transactions, tax history. Growing anticipation of what I’m about to find brings on another bout of dizziness and I take deep breath. Finally, I find multiple pieces of paper with Wells Fargo Financial at the top of each. The top section is paper-clipped together and has this home address listed with Tom Hastings, the third as the owner. The second group of paper-clipped papers is the cabin on Goat Mountain. That’s where Jake and Vance had taken me. The third is another property listed without a specific address. Both are listed under Benjamin Ashford.
My heart thuds in my chest. Where have I heard that name before?
Tobin mentioned it the day he came by my apartment. He’d said they found the name of who owned the cabin. An alias. Benjamin Ashford. Goddammit! Hot tears well up. I can’t stand to think of Terin out there while I’m rummaging around in here putting the puzzle pieces together.
Hold on, Terin. Hold on. I’m coming.
Panic rises as I search the documents for an address to the second property and find the only reference of location as Williput Creek. The last page is a printout from Google Maps. I sigh with relief and wipe my tears away.
I have what I need. Now I need to get the hell out of here. Before it’s too late.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
Breathe in. Breathe out. My knuckles are white and achy from gripping the steering wheel so tight. Not from fear, but from rage. Fury and a hunger for revenge consume me. In my mind’s eye I see everything Terin must be going through. I feel her terror in a way that most other humans will never experience.
I hold my cell phone to my ear and count each ring, praying he’ll pick up. Praying I’m making the right decision by trusting him now. This is his moment to prove himself. His voice is thick with sleep when he finally does. “Hello?”
“Tobin? Were you sleeping?”
“Yeah, I have a night shift tonight, so I was napping.”
“Thank God you picked up. I need your help.”
“Tessa? Are you okay?”
I can picture him sitting up in bed, a worried expression on his handsome face. It hits me hard that he really does care for me. I tuck that away.
“I’m fine but I need your help.”
“My help? Of course. Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s not Gerald.” I go into the whole story, breaking down the chain of events that led me to Tom’s house and what I’ve discovered. I talk so fast I can barely catch my breath. Tobin sits quietly on the other end of the line, and I wonder if he’s still there, but I can’t stop. Every word waits anxiously on the tip of my tongue, desperate for release.
“We have to help her, Tobin. We have to get to her before it’s too late.”
“Tom. Fuck. Okay, yeah, of course we do. And you said you have a map?”
“Yes, I’m on my way there now. Before it gets dark.” I wait for him to get pen and paper, then rattle off the directions into the phone. “I need you and your men to meet me out there.”
“What? No. Wait. You’re not going out there, Tessa. Let us handle this.”
“It might be too late by then. I’m already on my way. I’m not standing on the sidelines while those sick bastards do God only knows what to my best friend. I just can’t.”
Tobin’s voice lowers, his tone conveying a suppressed emotion. Fear? Anger? Both? “Listen, Tess, I know that this hits close to home for you, and it’s bringing up stuff that I can’t even begin to imagine. But that’s exactly why you can’t go out there. You’re not rational. You’ll put you and your friend in even more danger. Just turn around and go home and let me do my job.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t.”
I pull the phone away and look at the display screen. Before my thumb hits the button, I hear Tobin’s faraway plea. “Goddammit! Tessa, don’t—” Click.
The computerized voice of a female on my GPS system calls out the next set of directions. “Up ahead, take the next left onto Williput Creek Road.”