Read Dark Shadows of the Past Page 3


  Only a few feet from the ground, she froze at the low, vibrating growls coming from below. Not even breathing, she glanced down to see two Dobermans staring up at her.

  Oh, my God! Terror washed over her. Now what? She was too weak to climb back up. As a matter of fact, she was too weak to hold on any longer. She would fall on the ground any minute, and she would be torn to pieces by those two killers growling at her. Feeling her arms letting go, she closed her eyes in panic, and a scream escaped her lips.

  Right before she hit the ground, she heard a voice in the distance. A sharp pain shot through her ribs and left shoulder. She lay there in agony with her eyes tightly shut, too scared to even breath. She could feel the dogs breathing down on her, but they didn’t attack.

  Someone approached, but Christina kept her eyes shut, feeling her heart thundering in her chest. When a hand touched her forehead, her eyes flew open. A man wearing a polo shirt and a pair of jeans leaned over her. He was dark and handsome, but his misty gray eyes were icy cold. While staring into those eyes, a shiver caressed her spine. He was bad news, and Christina felt the urge to flee. However, even if she managed to stand on her feet, there was nowhere to run…

  His lips pressed into a thin line; the man peered down at her for a moment, which to Christina seemed like an eternity. Then he stood up. At his command, the dogs backed off, and Christina heard people running from the house. She turned and saw two men rushing toward them with guns in their hands.

  “Take her back upstairs!” the one standing over her ordered in a harsh voice.

  Christina swallowed hard, feeling her mouth dry. The guy watched as the two men grabbed her by the arms and violently pulled her to her feet. Then he turned around and walked toward the other side of the house with the dogs following him.

  The two bullies half-carried, half-dragged her upstairs to her room and threw her on the bed. When the door closed behind them, she rolled over, hiding her face in the pillow, letting her tears from excruciating pain and fear run free.

  ***

  At the police station, Dan paced back and forth, clenching his fists. They hadn’t been able to find any trace of Christina, despite turning the hospital upside down.

  The girl was in grave danger… He could feel it in his gut and was furious he couldn’t help her.

  He could still see her staring at him with those beautiful, emerald eyes, begging him to help her. And what did he do? He let her down. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.

  He had spent all night looking for her and all morning going over the evidence, trying to make some sense out of all this. He had policemen questioning staff and visitors at the hospital, trying to find someone who knew or had seen something.

  A doctor reported a black Land Rover SUV leaving the hospital around two-thirty in the morning. The SUV sped like a bat out of hell and almost hit his car as he was pulling into the hospital parking lot. He told the police that there were three or four people in the vehicle, but he could only be sure about the two men sitting in the front. He stopped his car, but the other one kept on going and quickly disappeared down the street.

  Nobody else seemed to have noticed anything. It was as if the girl had vanished into thin air.

  “Damn!” Dan cursed out loud and slammed his fist on the top of his desk. I’ll be damned if I don’t find her before it’s too late.

  “Emily Lawrence is here to see you.” The voice of his partner, Detective Miles, startled him back to reality.

  Dan glanced toward the door where Emily stood in a dark green velvet suit and a cream silk blouse, arrogantly surveying the room.

  Dan let out a deep breath. That’s all I need right now, he thought, angrily.

  “Good morning, Detective,” Emily said in a cocky way. Tall and slim, with silky black hair down to her shoulders and cunning green eyes, she walked toward his desk with the air of a woman who knew men admired her. Sitting down at one of the two chairs in front of his desk, she crossed her beautiful legs.

  Miles winked at Dan from across the room while Dan sank in the armchair behind his desk.

  “What can I do for you?” he inquired, using a cold, professional tone. Remembering their first encounter the day before, he couldn’t say he liked Emily very much. Something about this woman bothered him. She was beautiful all right, but also cold and arrogant. He couldn’t help but think of Christina’s sweet face. He didn’t know her; he had hardly spoken to her. But he could tell she was quite different to this woman. He peered at Emily closely. I’ll be surprised if she’s telling the truth about being close friends with Christina.

  “I’m very worried about Chris, Detective,” the woman said in a soft, caressing voice.

  Is it my imagination, Dan wondered, that I don’t hear any note of concern? Her tone of voice sounded seductive, not worried. “I can understand that,” he said out loud, studying her face, trying to figure the woman out.

  “Have you found her yet?” Emily asked, peering at him closely.

  “No, not yet. But we will soon!” he replied, trying to sound as confident as he could. Was it an expression of disbelief that he read on her face?

  “Have you thought of anything that might be of help?” he asked carefully.

  “As a matter of fact, I have,” she said. “I remembered the name of the guy that Christina was supposed to meet. His name is Peter Collins. He’s a low-life art dealer or something like that, from the south side. I’d told her to stay away from him. He’s no good for her. I’d told her a million times…” she added and shook her head disapprovingly.

  Dan wrote the name down on his notepad.

  “You should check on that, Detective!” Emily said. “Maybe he got Chris in trouble, and after she’d realized what had happened, she left the hospital on her own in order not to be arrested.”

  Highly unlikely, especially considering that she insisted on seeing me a few minutes earlier. However, he kept his thoughts to himself.

  “I’ll check on it. Do you happen to know where I can find this Collins guy?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure where his shop is,” Emily replied. “However, I do know that he often goes to a bar downtown on Peachtree Street.”

  Dan noted down the information again. Funny! She claimed no knowledge of where Collins’s shop was, but she knew where he hung out. I better run a check on Emily Lawrence, he decided and sprung to his feet to let her know the conversation was over.

  Emily uncrossed her pretty legs slowly and rose unwillingly, looking at him straight in the eyes.

  “If you need anything else, Detective, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call.”

  “Thank you, Miss Lawrence,” Dan replied, in a cold, professional tone of voice.

  After Emily had left, Dan let out a deep breath, feeling relieved. She’s poison. He always trusted his instinct, and that was what it told him now about Emily Lawrence.

  Glancing at his notepad, he picked up the phone to have someone check on this Collins character. After hanging up, he grabbed his jacket and left, needing some fresh air and something to eat. He hadn’t slept in days and had nothing to eat since yesterday afternoon.

  I have to start taking better care of myself. This job is getting to me.

  He walked to the deli down the street and ordered a sandwich with chips and some coffee. The place was filled up with cops. Some of his colleagues invited him to their table, but he refused politely and sat by the window, lost in his thoughts.

  “Guess what?” Miles said, standing over him.

  “What?” Dan jumped, surprised. He was so involved in his thoughts that he hadn’t seen Miles coming in.

  “We found Collins!” Miles said.

  “Is that so? Where?” Dan asked anxiously.

  “Our friend has a rap sheet a mile long!” Miles continued. “He has three prior arrests and one conviction for dealing in stolen goods.”

  “Do we have an address?” Dan inquired.

  “We sure do!” Miles responded
. “Wilson and Carson are already on their way there.”

  “Let’s go!” Dan said and sprung to his feet, leaving his sandwich untouched. He rushed outside with Miles following right behind him.

  They climbed into their unmarked police car and headed toward Peachtree Industrial Apartments. Turning into the entrance, they cruised slowly down the street, checking the numbers on the apartment buildings. Apartment 12B was toward the end of the street. They passed the building Collins was living in, scanning the area, and spotted Detective Wilson’s car a little bit farther down. They turned around and stopped up the street, where they could watch the entrance to the building. A brown, beat-up Oldsmobile was parked right in the front.

  A couple minutes later, a short guy wearing blue jeans and a filthy gray shirt came out of the building, carrying a small suitcase.

  “That’s him,” Miles murmured.

  They watched closely as Collins opened the trunk of the car, threw the suitcase in, and slammed it close. He took a quick look around and rushed back inside, reappearing in a few minutes with a big paper box that he also put in the trunk. Closing it, he hesitated for a moment, carefully scanning his surroundings. Spotting Dan’s unmarked police car, he seemed agitated. He rushed around his car, jumped inside, and turned the engine on.

  Dan started his car and took a quick turn, blocking the street, while Wilson did the same on the other side.

  As soon as Collins saw he was trapped, he abandoned the car and launched for the woods behind the apartment building. Dan and Miles jumped out of their car, pulling out their guns.

  “Police! Stop!” Dan yelled, but Collins was already gone. The two detectives chased after him while Wilson drove down the street alongside the woods.

  Dan caught up with Collins, a little bit farther down. He jumped on top of him from behind and threw him to the ground. Within seconds, Miles was standing over them, pointing his gun at Collins. Dan jumped up and dragged Collins to his feet and back to his car. He pushed him against the police car and cuffed him.

  Miles was keeping an eye on Collins while Dan went over to the Oldsmobile. Opening the trunk, he checked its contents.

  “You guys go upstairs and check the apartment!” Dan yelled at Wilson and Carson, who had just pulled up and parked their car next to his.

  “Going on a trip?” Miles asked Collins, sarcastically.

  “What do you want? I haven’t done anything wrong!” Collins yelled.

  “Is that so?” Miles inquired, acting surprised. “So why did you run as soon as you saw us?”

  “I was scared,” Collins mumbled.

  “Scared of what? Us?” Miles continued. “Why would a law-abiding citizen be scared of the police?” he asked, innocently.

  “My! My!” Dan yelled from the back of Collins’s car and walking around the car, he showed Miles a gun that was inside a small metal box. “What have we got here?” he asked Collins.

  Seemingly shocked, Collins swallowed hard, glancing from one policeman to the other to the gun. Dan for a moment thought that his surprise was genuine. He’s good. I almost believed him.

  “What do you have to say about this?” Dan asked Collins.

  “I know nothing about this,” Collins replied. “That’s not mine.”

  “Really?” Dan said, pretending to be surprised. “Then how did it end up in the trunk of your car?”

  “I have no idea,” Collins insisted and glanced around him, worried. “Someone must have put it there.”

  “Someone? Who?” Dan asked him. “Who would put a gun in your trunk and why?”

  “I don’t know,” Collins said and peered at the gun, again.

  “That’s enough! Let’s go!” Miles said, shoving Collins into the back seat of their car.

  Dan went upstairs to talk to the other detectives, who were checking Collins’s apartment.

  He came back outside a few minutes later, climbed in the car with Miles, and drove Collins to the police department.

  As soon as they arrived there, Dan jumped out of the car and pulled Collins out and into the police station.

  “Book him and send the gun to Forensics!” he yelled at Miles over his shoulder, dragging Collins to the interrogation rooms in the back to question him.

  ***

  Scared and desperate, Christina lay in bed for a long time. At some point, someone came in and set something down on the table by the window but she kept her eyes shut. She didn’t want anything; she just wanted the nightmare to end. Who were these people holding her here, and what did they want from her? Once more, she wondered about Johnny. What had happened to him? Was he still alive or had these people killed him, like the man whose body was found near her in the alley? The same people she had seen in Johnny’s apartment probably killed the attorney. Or was someone else involved, also?

  A roaring headache made things ever worse for her. It might help if I throw some water on my face. As soon as she rose up, though, she felt dizzy and had to sit for a few minutes at the edge of the bed to steady herself. Feeling weak, she glanced at the tray on the table and realized she was starving. Making her way to the bathroom, she washed her hands and face. Then she walked back to the room and went to the table. The ham and cheese sandwich and coffee seemed inviting. Starving myself won’t help at all. I have to regain my strength and wait for a chance to escape.

  She had finished her sandwich and was drinking her coffee when she heard footsteps in the hallway. A young maid came in to take the tray.

  “Hello!” Christina said and tried to be friendly.

  The girl gave her a shy look but didn’t say a word.

  “Where am I?” Christina asked.

  The girl kept her eyes on the floor and picked up the tray without responding, again.

  “Please…” Christina pleaded. “I’m so scared…” She decided to try this approach, and she was right.

  The girl raised her eyes and glanced quickly toward the door that was left halfway open. Then she turned to Christina and gave her a shy smile. “Don’t worry!” she said. “It won’t be long.”

  “What won’t be long?” Christina asked, puzzled.

  “He’s coming soon, and everything will be over,” the girl replied and rushed to the door as footsteps were heard on the stairs. The maid closed the door behind her, and Christina was left alone, wondering what she meant by that and who was coming.

  ***

  For two days, Christina stayed in her room and saw nobody except only when it was mealtime. However, the young maid never came again. An older woman with very strict manners brought her food. After a couple tries, Christina realized she wasn’t going to get a word out of that woman and finally gave up.

  Christina spent most of her time looking out the window, trying to figure out where she was or to see what was going on. Her room, however, was in the back of the house and even if people were coming and going, she wouldn’t know. The only ones she saw in the garden were the two guards who had carried her upstairs. They walked around, sometimes alone, and sometimes followed by the dogs. No other living soul was anywhere to be found. Noises could be heard from downstairs and footsteps on the staircase and the hallway. Sometimes, even doors could be heard opening and shutting on her floor, and mumbled voices, but that was it. She didn’t know any more now than the first day in that house.

  They are sure I won’t be able to escape with those dogs out there. That’s probably why they don’t lock me up. But still, I have to do something… I can try to have a look around the house and figure out what’s going on and who these people are. Maybe I can even find a phone and call the police. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea and decided to wait until late that night and then try it. The rest of the day went by unbearably slow with Christina pacing back and forth in her room, anxiously waiting for nightfall.

  At some point, she went into the closet to pick a fresh set of clothes. After all these days cooped up in there, she was in dire need of a shower. Besides, the hot water would help
relax her tangled nerves. Taking the clothes, she walked to the bathroom and locking the door behind her, she took a quick shower. Then she was ready for her nocturnal adventure.

  ***

  Christina glanced at the clock on the bedside table. One-thirty in the morning and I haven’t heard any noise for a couple of hours. They must be asleep by now. Of course, she was sure that the guards were still out there. However, she wasn’t planning on going outside the house, at least not until she had figured out a way to avoid another encounter with the dogs. So she quietly opened the door and checked up and down the hallway. Seeing nobody, she stepped outside her room. Trying to be as careful as possible, since the wood floor of the hallway made squeaking noises every now and then, she checked the rooms on her floor first. They were all bedrooms like hers; only they were empty. To her disappointment, she found no phone in any of them.

  When she reached the end of the hallway toward the huge bay window, she stopped dead in her tracks. A soft beeping noise came from this room—the only one she hadn’t checked yet. She stood outside and waited with her ear on the door. Nothing else could be heard, but that noise. Trying the door, it opened with a soft squeak, and Christina held her breath. After a few agonizing moments of silence, she pushed the door wide open and walked inside the room.

  The curtains were pulled back, and in the moonlight sneaking inside from the window, she could see a comfortable bedroom like hers. Only this one held a lot of medical equipment, like a hospital room. Someone was on the bed, connected to the machine making the beeping noise.

  A shiver caressed her spine as she moved closer to take a better look at the person lying there. It was a man around sixty years old who seemed very ill. Glancing around, she noticed some bottles with pills on the dresser but in the dim moonlight, she couldn’t read the patient’s name. Trying to find out who he was, she checked the drawers of the bedside table but they were empty. Approaching the dresser, she searched through its drawers. They were packed with underwear, socks, and sweaters, but that was it.

  Then she stepped inside the walk-in closet. It was dark, but she couldn’t risk turning the light on. Searching in the dark, her hands came across a metal box. Picking it up, she brought it to the bedroom, where there was more light from the window. She opened it and started searching its contents—some papers, a few USB sticks, and a notebook. I’ll take the notebook to my room, she decided, read it, and then bring it back.