Georgina's Story

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Georgina's Story Page 5

by Patrick Logan


  Keith grit his teeth and yanked his arm free.

  “Don’t tell me to fucking calm down,” he spat. “I need to know where my fucking girls are. I need—”

  Detective Rainsford suddenly slapped him across the face. The blow was so powerful that Keith staggered, and if it weren’t for Dwight holding him up, his weak knees might have let go.

  It worked; the slap caused things to snap into focus. This girl wasn’t at fault. She was a victim. She didn’t take his Georgina and Chase.

  “Get control of yourself,” Detective Rainsford ordered, his eyes now as hard as when they’d first met. “The kid is in shock, hasn’t said a single word. If she knows where your girls are, she’ll tell us. But not now. You push her now, and she’s likely to bottle up, never speak again.”

  Keith wanted to apologize but couldn’t find the words.

  Rainsford hooked a chin at an unmarked police car, not ten paces from where they stood.

  “Dwight, take Mr. Adams home. Give him something to help him sleep. We’ll reconvene in the morning.”

  Once again, Keith was at a loss for words. He was mentally and physically spent, and when Dwight started to guide him to the cruiser, he was unable to resist.

  After depositing him in the backseat, Dwight got behind the wheel. Then he reached into the glovebox and pulled out an orange medication container. He popped the top, removed a single white pill, and held it out to him.

  “I know you don’t want to sleep, I know you want to do anything and everything to find your girls,” Detective Dwight said, his lips twisted in a frown. “But you’re not helping them by acting this way—you’re only making things harder. Take the pill, get some rest.”

  Keith hesitated.

  The man was right, of course; he would do anything to get his girls back.

  “Your wife needs you, too,” Detective Dwight said. “Don’t forget about her.”

  Kerry’s face flashed in his mind; she was furious, shouting at him, telling him it was his fault, that he was drunk when he should have been watching the girls.

  Keith reached out and grabbed the pill from the detective’s hand.

  He tossed it into his mouth and dry swallowed it. Then Keith turned his eyes back to the window, his gaze falling on the little girl who had just been reunited with her family after god only knew how long. The same girl who was looking back at him now, an expression of pity on her filthy face.

  Chapter 13

  “It’s hard, I know. It was hard for me, too. Me and my sisters,” the girl who called herself Portia said. “But we’re really not bad people. We just want to help, to be a big family. You’re lucky, you know; lucky that somebody wants you. I mean, look at us.”

  Portia teased her white dress away from her legs and did a cute little twirl. And then she indicated the other two girls, who were also smiling. Georgina looked intently at all of their faces, eventually resting on Melissa’s.

  The girl’s eyes were wide, and she was nodding encouragingly.

  Georgina wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she’d been thrown in the back of the van, since she’d arrived here, or how long it had been since Melissa had come down and told her that her real name was Teresa.

  She knew that the sun had set several times but had lost track of precisely how many. Being alone in a dungeon made of dirt did things to time—compressed it in ways that her young mind couldn’t understand.

  And now, she found herself beginning to question whether or not Chase had ever been down here with her at all, or if that had just been a dream.

  “Riley, don’t you want to join us?” Sue-Ellen asked, twisting a finger in her hair. “Don’t you want to come out and play with us?”

  Georgina held Melissa’s stare a moment longer before looking over at Sue-Ellen.

  “Was my sister here? Was Chase here?” Georgina asked in a quiet voice.

  Melissa stepped forward.

  “Riley, I know these past few days have been tough for you. You looked tired. I… I think you’re confused. Your sister wasn’t here,” she paused, “your sisters are here.”

  Georgina closed her eyes in a slow blink. Behind her dark lids, she saw Chase’s frowning face framed by her dark hair.

  “We are your sisters,” the girl continued, and Georgina opened her eyes. As she did, Chase’s face lingered for a moment, before transforming into Melissa’s.

  She’s right, Georgina thought, I am confused.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “I want to play.”

  It was true; Georgina wanted out of her cell, she wanted to go outside and feel the sun on her face, her arms.

  She wanted to breathe air that wasn’t tainted by the smell of dirt.

  The three girls all clapped their hands in unison.

  “Oh, Riley, I have so much to show you!” Sue-Ellen said. “Out back we can go peach picking and, if we are lucky, we might even see a deer!”

  She reached forward and helped Georgina to her feet.

  It had been so long since Georgina had walked, and her first few steps were awkward and ungainly. But that didn’t matter; Sue-Ellen wrapped one arm around her waist while Melissa guided her from behind, offering her the stability and support she desperately needed.

  Before Georgina could fully comprehend what was happening, she was guided down the hallway then up a small flight of stairs. Moments later, she found herself in a small home with dated wallpaper and old-fashioned looking appliances.

  “Where are we?” she asked in a voice that didn’t sound like hers.

  Georgina was led to a door. Melissa opened it, and she immediately shielded her eyes from the bright sunlight.

  Portia helped her outside and then all three of the girls started running their toes through the tall grass. The blades were warm and tickly, and it didn’t take long for Georgina to do the same.

  “Why, we’re home, silly,” Melissa said with a massive smile that filled her entire face. “This is your home, Riley. And we’re your sisters. We’re your family and we will never leave you.”

  Chapter 14

  Keith groaned and opened his eyes. At first, he wasn’t sure where he was; he couldn’t even remember much of the day prior.

  How many drinks did I have? Did I overdo it?

  But as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, he recognized the drapes over the window and realized that he was on his couch.

  And then it all came flooding back.

  Everything.

  He sat bolt upright and then immediately lay back down when his head started to throb.

  “God,” he groaned, clucking his tongue that felt thick and fuzzy.

  He glanced at the coffee table and then cringed; there was a nearly empty bottle of Jameson lying on its side and a rock glass with a finger of whiskey in the bottom.

  He remembered getting into Detective Dwight’s car, but didn’t remember drinking—didn’t recall anything after taking the pill he’d been offered.

  Voices to his right drew his attention and he sat up again, this time more slowly.

  The first thing he saw was his wife: Kerry Adams stood with her back to him, her usually perfectly ironed outfit creased, her hair tied up in a messy ponytail.

  “Kerry?” Keith croaked.

  His wife turned and stared at him with a hateful glare. Only then did he notice who she was talking to: Mayor David Lupo.

  What the hell is he doing here?

  “Oh, you’re awake now? How nice of you to join us.”

  The mayor reached out and touched Kerry’s arm, an obvious attempt to calm her, but she ignored the man and strode toward the couch.

  “The girls are missing and all you’re doing about it is drinking and sleeping—”

  Keith started to rise.

  “Shit, how long have I been out?”

  “It’s nearly two in the afternoon, Keith,” Kerry spat.

  Keith blinked.

  “What? I slept for… almost a whole day?”

  Kerry pursed her lips a
nd turned her head to the bottle of Jameson.

  “More like passed out.”

  “Kerry,” the mayor pleaded.

  Keith shook his head.

  What the hell is going on? Where… where are they?

  “I’m sorry… I didn’t…” he let his sentence trail off.

  “They’re still missing, Keith,” Kerry replied. For a moment, her voice and expression softened. “No one has seen or heard from our babies since the fair.”

  Her eyes were sullen, and the little makeup that she’d applied was just a little off; her lipstick didn’t perfectly follow the contours of her lips and her eyeliner extended beyond the edge of her lids.

  “What about the other girl?” Keith asked, grinding his teeth against his headache.

  Kerry frowned.

  “What other girl?” she snapped.

  “There was another girl… they found her covered in dirt. I think her name was… Louisa.”

  The mayor strode forward and they both looked to him for more information.

  “The girl’s name is Louisa Binari. Until yesterday, she’d been missing for nearly two weeks. She isn’t saying much, and no one really knows where she was all that time. The detectives aren’t sure if her, uhh, disappearance is related.”

  Kerry’s eyes narrowed to slits.

  “She… what? Who? What the fuck are you talking about?”

  The mayor shook his head.

  “Kerry, we’re doing everything—”

  “Are you fucking serious, David? You’re just telling me this now? You’re telling me that a young girl went missing from Franklin County two week ago and nobody told us?”

  “Kerry—”

  “No, no, no; don’t do this,” Kerry growled.

  Keith had never known his wife to be a violent woman; in fact, she was almost always the level-headed one in the relationship. Her behavior at the fair was dramatically out of character, which was perhaps to be expected given what they were going through.

  Still, Keith found it necessary to come between the two of them before Kerry lashed out with more than just words.

  “We’ve got every police officer from—” the mayor began defensively but was once again cut off.

  “You did this! You did this, David!” Kerry half-sobbed, and half-screamed.

  The mayor’s face went slack.

  “Kerry,” he began, but before he could continue, she whipped around and aimed a manicured finger at his face.

  Keith had never seen her this angry in his entire life.

  “You did this! If you had told us about a girl going missing, I would have never—”

  A heavy knock at the door took their breath away. All eyes were suddenly on the pale rectangle, but none of them moved.

  A second later, the knock recurred.

  And yet, they all remained frozen.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Adams? It’s Detective Rainsford.”

  Keith gasped and ran to the door, pulling it wide.

  His knees were still sore and bruised from the day prior, but when Keith saw the filthy girl standing in front of the detective with the severe eyes, he once again dropped to the ground.

  “Oh my God,” he whispered. Kerry suddenly appeared at his side, breathing heavily.

  “Chase?” she asked cautiously as if worried that uttering her daughter’s name would make her disappear again.

  Sobbing now, Keith reached out and hugged his eldest daughter tightly, squeezing her, breathing in the sweet smell of sweat mixed with dirt. But when Chase didn’t hug him back, didn’t so much as flinch, he grabbed her by the shoulders and held her an inch from his face.

  “Chase,” he whimpered. “What happened? Are you—” okay, he’d intended to ask, but for what felt like the thousandth time, his wife interrupted him.

  “Chase, where’s your sister? Where’s Georgina?”

  PART II – A Cross to Bear

  Chapter 15

  Keith Adams squeezed his forehead with one hand. His mind was racing and nothing he did, not deep-breathing, not smoking a cigarette, which he hadn’t for over a decade, or sucking back a half a pint of single malt, would apply the brakes.

  God was a twisted being, a cruel bastard who delivered half-truths and mixed messages, all of which were driving him insane.

  His free hand wandered to the cross around his neck and he gripped it tightly.

  Two daughters had been taken from him, and God had seen it fit to return to him one half.

  “Mr. Adams?”

  Chase… his eight-year-old daughter, had been incredibly intelligent and intuitive, also stubborn and bullheaded like her mother when she’d gone missing roughly two days ago. But now? Now, she seemed like someone completely different. Now, Chase seemed like a doe-eyed girl firmly nestled on the heavy end of the autism spectrum, barely vocal. Even when she did speak, it was only in clipped, short sentences.

  “Mr. Adams?”

  The only time the girl seemed to really animate was when the sun outside her large hospital window dipped below the horizon. Chase would close her eyes and go silent for a few moments.

  But that wouldn’t last long.

  The screaming would start within minutes, night terrors that would strike fear in the Vatican’s private exorcist, should one exist. Sometimes, when there was a break in the guttural cries, Keith could hear a name being whispered, the name of his youngest daughter…

  More than two weeks in, and they still had no idea where Chase had been held, or what had—

  A hand came down on Keith’s shoulder and he jumped.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, Mr. Adams,” the man with a thin mustache and round spectacles said. “Is this not a good time?”

  Keith stared at the man for several seconds before he realized who it was: Dr. Rudy Patterson. Dr. Patterson was the physician who had been looking after Chase ever since she’d been admitted to the hospital. He’d been the one to examine her, with Kerry present the entire time, of course, to assess her injuries. Thankfully, her body was covered in minor scratches and bruises—mostly on her hands—but the rest seemed relatively intact.

  Her mind, however…

  No, it’s not a good time, Doc; the good times are in the past.

  “It’s okay,” Keith said dryly, then cleared his throat. “Now’s fine.”

  Keith rose to his feet and looked around. The Franklin, Tennessee hospital room was plain, uncluttered by fancy equipment and unnecessary gadgets that were of no help to them. Over the past seven days, they’d seen a parade of specialists, all of whom had invited Chase back to their state-of-the-art facilities in Nashville, Ohio, and one from as far as Michigan. But when pressed, none could promise that they had a magical piece of equipment that could bring his daughter back.

  Besides, Keith couldn’t leave even if he’d wanted to; Georgina was still out there. At least in Franklin, he knew the doctors, he had, in fact, sold most of them their houses, and he felt comfortable here.

  And Kerry wouldn’t have it, either.

  “What is it?” Keith finally asked, his eyes darting to the clock on the far wall. The small hand was centered on the ‘2’, but Keith honestly had no idea if it was 2 a.m. or 2 p.m.

  He’d spent so much time in this room that he’d memorized every crack in the ceiling tiles, every ding in the drywall, every scratch on the cheap linoleum floor.

  But what he didn’t know, was the time. Nor did he care.

  Dr. Patterson averted his eyes and Keith immediately grew suspicious.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Is Chase okay? Did her tests come back?”

  Dr. Patterson looked at him then, and Keith saw that the doctor’s eyes were as red-rimmed as his own.

  “No, no; Chase’s tests came back fine and there’s been no change in her condition. But that’s kinda the problem. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I almost wish that something did pop up on the most recent blood panel. An infection, maybe, or the presence of a toxic agent. Something that w
e could treat.” The man sighed. “We’re going on fifteen days now, Keith, and her night terrors are getting progressively worse. As you know, during the day she’s fine—silent, but calm—but at night…” Another labored sigh. “I’m just—look, the longer this goes on…”

  The doctor let his sentence trail off, which Keith found unnerving. He reached out and grabbed the man’s shoulder.

  “What? The longer this goes on… what?” Keith demanded.

  Again, Dr. Patterson leveled his rheumy eyes at him.

  “Well, I’m afraid that the longer this goes on—the longer she goes on like this—the more likely things are going to stay this way, that Chase’s condition will become intractable, permanent. And then there’s the added risk that, at night, she might harm herself, that—”

  Keith felt as if he’d been punched in the solar plexus.

  “P-p-permanent? But you told me—you said that with time—”

  The doctor nodded.

  “I know, I know what I said, but I’ve also admitted that I’m out of my league here, Keith. And I’ve been honest with you from the start; I thought you would come out of this. I thought that after she was properly hydrated and the cuts on her hands were treated, that she would get better. But she’s not getting better, Keith; she’s getting worse. And now, like I said, I think she might hurt herself, or others.”

  Keith suddenly found it hard to breathe.

  “Hurt herself? She’s only eight years old, for Christ’s sake. What are you talking about?”

  The doctor swallowed visibly, his large Adam’s apple bobbing in his neck.

  “This morning when we cleaned her, we found a piece of glass under her bed. We have no idea where it came from or what she planned on doing with it. But with her night terrors getting worse…”

  A piece of glass?

  “Maybe someone put it there by accident, one of the nurses, maybe,” Keith practically pleaded. “Please, I don’t—she—”

  Tears suddenly overwhelmed him, robbing him of his words. Keith had always prided himself in being a man of control, of keeping his emotions in check. But this was too much. Two weeks ago, he’d been living a near-perfect life, but all that changed when his two girls went missing and half of one returned.

 

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