by Willow Rose
The camera cut to the studio and Boomer turned off the TV. Things weren’t going the way he had planned them, but all wasn’t lost yet. Even if he had to abandon his initial ideas, there was still a way to end this in a manner that would satisfy him. There was still the last girl, and she would get to serve her purpose.
Boomer still had a couple of aces up his sleeve.
Chapter 70
THEN:
“I’ll tell you where the baby is if you release me.”
Gary stared at Sánchez through the glass overlooking the interrogation room, clenching his fists. They had been at it for more than forty hours now, and still, the man hadn’t said a word that could lead them to Gary’s son.
It almost tore him to pieces.
Who was feeding Oliver? Who was changing his diaper? Who took care of him?
They had kept both Sánchez and his wife María and were questioning them both in each of their rooms. Still nothing. Not even a hint.
The agents had raided all of their relatives’ houses but found no baby there either and no sign of him. All they had was the teddy bear. That was the only clue they had that the boy had been at their house at one point.
But where was he now?
The boy had been gone for longer than he had been alive when he disappeared now. They had known more time without him than with him. It was unbearable to think about.
“You’re not being released. You kidnapped a baby, Sánchez,” Peterson said. “You’re the one in trouble here, buddy. You don’t get to make demands. And you definitely don’t get to go free. You tell us where the baby is, and then maybe we’ll feed you, how about that? Maybe we won’t stick your head into the toilet bowl.”
Sánchez looked up at Peterson. His eyes were exhausted. He hadn’t slept, shaved, or showered in forty hours. They had given him water to drink but nothing else.
“Where’s the kid, Sánchez?” Peterson repeated.
“Let me and María go, and I’ll show you to him,” he said like he had said maybe a hundred times earlier. If Gary had to hear that answer once more, he would throw up.
They were getting nowhere, and in the meantime, Oliver was somewhere, alone and scared. He was nothing but an infant, for crying out loud. Completely helpless, completely dependent on his surroundings.
Peterson got up, his chair screeching across the floor. He came out to Gary. Gary ran a hand across his sweaty forehead.
“I can’t take it anymore,” he said. “Why won’t the bastard speak? Not even when I pressed that darn gun to his face did he say anything.”
“He’s a tough one; I admit to that,” Peterson said. “But I still haven’t met the criminal that I couldn’t break. He’s gonna spill. Look at his eyes; he’s getting close now, just you wait and see. Give it time.”
Gary scoffed. “I don’t have time. That’s the one thing I don’t have to give.”
Peterson nodded, then looked briefly at his shoes. “I might have an idea,” he said. “Actually, it was Agent Wilson who told me it might work.”
“Anything at this point. You know that,” Gary said. “What is it?”
“The wife,” Peterson said. “We bring her into the interrogation room. See if she can get him to talk.”
Chapter 71
“Can you describe the man who kidnapped you?”
Carina looked at the two detectives that had entered her room. She had explained everything she remembered from the night she was attacked to them and told them as much as she remembered from their time in the room underground. Talking about it made her tear up, even though she tried to stifle it. She was still feeling dizzy and couldn’t find rest. Everything felt so confusing to her, almost surreal.
The doctor, a small woman with blonde hair, had told her she had been lucky, that they had performed surgery on her for almost twelve hours to save her life. She had also told her she was malnourished and that all her levels were alarmingly low. Furthermore, they had found traces of a date rape drug in her blood. It could affect her memory, she had been told. And now that the female detective, a small chubby-cheeked redhead with her hair in a ponytail, asked her for details about the man who had tormented her and kept her prisoner, it was hard for her to picture him.
“He was…h-he…”
“Take your time,” the redhead, said, sounding sympathetic. “Make sure the details are correct.”
“He wore a mask when he came to the room where we were kept—a surgical mask. I can remember the eyes; they were grey. Maybe it was the light or the lack of light in the small room, but they looked grey. Could have been bluer.”
“And the hair?” the male detective said. He was quite handsome and looked like he enjoyed surfing, judging from the blond strands of hair in between the brown ones.
“I wanna say blond,” she said. “But I’m not completely sure. It could have been a light brown.”
The female detective showed her a sketch.
“Is this him?”
She looked at it, then nodded. “Could be.”
She showed her a grainy surveillance photo. “And this is the same guy?”
Carina nodded and remembered vaguely running across the parking lot, her heart racing in her chest, fear fueling her, giving her almost superhuman strength. She couldn’t believe she had made it out, that she had actually escaped.
The female detective showed her another picture.
“This man,” she said. “Do you recognize him?”
Carina looked at the photo. “I think so. He’s…he’s Leanne’s dad, isn’t he? She lives not that far from me?”
“Is that the man who kidnapped you?” the female asked.
Carina looked at the picture, then shook her head. “No.”
The two detectives exchanged a glance. The female addressed her again, leaning closer with the picture.
“Look at it again, Carina, please. Are you sure this is not the same man?”
Carina looked at Leanne’s dad again, then nodded. “Positive. The goatee is fake. I saw him put it on in the car while he thought I was out. He thought he had sedated me, but the syringe fell out while he did it back at the house and the contents were emptied inside my dress instead. I felt it happen but pretended it didn’t. I felt the sedation at first, but it was quickly out of my system, so I just laid there while he undressed me and carried me to the car. Then I waited for him to leave the car. But I saw him put on the fake goatee and glue it to his face.”
“Are you sure about this?” the male detective said. “He was wearing a mask for most of the time you saw him.”
“I am certain. This is not the same guy. I would have known. I used to play with Leanne when we were younger before we drifted apart, and I know her dad very well. I would have recognized his eyes. It’s not him.”
Chapter 72
“So, he is still out there,” I said and looked at Matt, feeling the adrenalin begin to rush through my body. We had killed the wrong man. I know Matt would say we didn’t exactly kill him and that he did shoot at the police, so he knew how it would end, but still. A man, a father was dead, and he wasn’t even our guy.
This didn’t feel right.
I leaned over and whispered to Matt. “We need a guard by her door twenty-four-seven. He’s gonna come for her.”
“I’ll take care of that,” he said and left.
I turned to face Carina again, suddenly worried about her and if she would be safe. This guy knew his way around this hospital, and we didn’t even know his name.
“Did you know this man from anywhere else?” I asked.
Carina closed her eyes and nodded.
“You did?” I asked hopefully.
“He’s a friend of my dad’s. Not a very close friend since he only moved here a little while ago, I think.”
“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. So, your dad knows him too, where from?”
“He’s…He’s…” Carina spoke through tears now. “He lives down the street. He kept us at his house in a bunker un
derground in his yard.”
I could barely breathe. “He’s someone from the neighborhood? You were kept that close all this time?”
She nodded, biting her lip. “I know this because we helped him build the bunker.”
What?
“Excuse me? I’m not sure I understand?” I said.
Tears were running quickly down her cheeks now, and I could tell she was bravely trying to focus and not break down. She knew as well as I did how important it was that she told us everything. Even if it meant she had to force herself to speak.
“I’m sorry if I’m a little all over the place. I should have told you this first when you came in, but I was just…well, I can’t seem to focus properly.”
“The doctor said this could happen,” her mom, Jane Martin said. She was sitting by her bedside, holding Carina’s hand. “She’s been drugged, and it can affect her memory.”
I nodded. “Okay, Carina. So, he lives in the neighborhood, and you helped him build the bunker? Can you explain that?”
“His house is kind of set back on the lot and covered by sea grapes and trees, so you can’t really see it that well. One time, some months ago, he paid all the kids in the neighborhood to come and help dig out his back yard. He said it was for a pool, and we believed him. It wasn’t until I was sitting down in that hell-hole that I realized I had helped dig my own grave.”
Jane Martin clasped her mouth and was about to break into tears. She held her daughter’s hand tightly.
“Maybe we should stop for now,” she said. “Carina is tired.”
“No, Mom,” Carina said between sobs. “I want this guy caught; don’t you understand? I want him in prison like he put me in prison. And I want them to find Tara before it’s too late. When I was taken out, she was still down there. There’s an opening under the carpet in the hallway that leads down to it. You need to remove a bookshelf on top first, then you’ll see it. Please, hurry. Tara wasn’t well when I was taken out. Please, get her out of there before it’s too late.”
Chapter 73
There was no time to waste. We couldn’t wait for the sheriff’s office to get there with a team from the mainland. Every minute counted, so we decided to go in on our own. Matt drove the cruiser up in front of the house on Country Club Road and parked it on the front lawn. Two patrols came up behind us, on Chief Annie’s orders after I spoke to her on the phone, letting her in on what Carina had told us.
Matt and I both put on our vests and drew our weapons.
“We’re looking for a female, sixteen years of age, light brown shoulder-length hair and green eyes,” I told Sgt. Mason as he approached us, the other officers following closely behind him. I had only known Mason for a short while, but Matt told me he was the man you’d want having your back.
“Got it,” Mason said and nodded.
“The suspect might be in the house, so be careful,” I said. “Suspect is extremely dangerous.”
I met the eyes of Sgt. Mason and felt a connection. It was important in situations like these that we operated on the same page.
I cocked my weapon and nodded.
Matt was the one who knocked on the door. “COCOA BEACH POLICE DEPARTMENT. OPEN UP, OR WE’RE COMING IN.”
No response. That was expected.
I nodded again, and Matt grabbed the door handle. It was locked. This was also expected.
I signaled for him to walk with me into the back. The fence leading to the yard wasn’t locked, and we walked inside, then up to the porch. I looked at the grass area wondering if the bunker was beneath it, then shivered at the thought.
It’s open, Matt mouthed as he grabbed the sliding doors. I nodded, and we rushed inside the living room, holding our guns up in front of us, heart hammering in my chest.
I moved along the wall of the living room. It was sparsely furnished with only a recliner in front of an old TV and nothing else. The carpet was old and had stains from where the previous owner had furniture.
I moved into the kitchen.
It was empty. Extremely empty. Only a big bag of dog food on the counter. That was it.
I moved down the hallway to the first bedroom. Empty. Second bedroom, also empty, not even carpet on the floors. The third bedroom actually had a bed in it. Chains were hanging from a pipe under the ceiling. There was blood on the bed.
Whose blood is that? Molly’s? Carina’s? Ava’s? Or Tara’s?
“Clear,” I said.
I returned to the hallway and met Matt’s glare. We both saw it at the same time…the bookshelf in the middle of the hallway. It looked awkward and out of place. Seemed to be the only bookshelf in the entire house.
Matt grabbed the top while I pulled at the bottom, and soon, the bookshelf was removed. The carpet was loose underneath just like Carina had told us. As we pulled it off, a concrete block was revealed underneath. Sgt. Mason came up behind us. He was a big guy.
“Let’s get that for you,” he said.
Sgt. Mason ran for a crowbar, then cranked it open, lifting the block so we could pull it aside.
I stared into the black hole as it was revealed underneath, my heart crying for those poor girls who had been hidden down here all this time, while the entire town searched for them.
In the neighbor’s house of all places.
In plain sight.
Chapter 74
Using flashlights to lead the way, we walked through a small tunnel that led to a metal door with deadbolts on it. Pressing back my tears, I opened them and entered a room the size of a closet with three mattresses on the floor. On top of one of those mattresses laid a girl. She was on her side, curled up in the fetal position.
Tara.
I went inside and was met by a wall of bad smell that almost made me throw up. I held a sleeve to my mouth and knelt next to her. Flies were swarming the room, and I worried that the girl had died. I put a hand on her shoulder, then pulled gently till her body turned to its back. I gasped, startled, and turned my head away for a second. Tara’s lips were white and cracked, her eyes were sunken, and her skin dried up, making it look paper-thin.
“She’s alive,” I said as I put my finger on her throat and felt the weak pulse. “But not responsive.”
Matt was right next to me.
“Do you think he forgot her?”
I scanned the room. By the door, I spotted three buckets. Two were empty; the last one was filled with old human excrement, and flies were swarming it. How flies always found a way, even into a room with no windows and a door that thick that hadn’t been opened in a while, remained a mystery to me.
“It’s hard to say,” I said. “There’s no fresh water or food.”
“We need to get her to the hospital right away,” Matt said and rose to his feet.
I sniffled, looking at the poor girl who was barely alive. I took her in my arms and lifted her with no effort whatsoever. She couldn’t weigh more than eighty or ninety pounds. As I looked down at Tara in my arms, spotting a big wound on her abdomen that had been recently stitched together, I suddenly remembered something. It was like I had been here before.
In a situation just like it.
“Matt. Stop.”
He turned around and shone his light at my face. “What’s wrong? Eva Rae? What’s going on?”
I lifted my glance and met his eyes. “I don’t know. There’s something… something familiar about this.”
Matt wrinkled his forehead. “What do you mean, familiar?”
“There was a case I worked. Four bodies were found in a basement in Chicago. All illegal immigrants. The FBI was sent there to assist, but as we retrieved the bodies…”
I stopped and looked at Matt, fear rippling through every cell in my body.
“We need to get out of here. Now!”
“But…”
“Matt, get out of here.”
“I’m not leaving you here if that’s what you mean.”
“Matt, if I’m right, then you have to save yourself.”
“Save myself? What do you mean? Explain, Eva Rae.”
I swallowed, sweat prickling on my forehead. “The bomb is inside of her. If I’m right, the bomb is inside of Tara. Bombs were in the bodies in Chicago. All four of them had bombs surgically inserted into their bodies.”
Chapter 75
I held Tara close while crying helplessly.
“I don’t know what to do, Matt. I can’t just leave her here. I can’t; I simply refuse to!”
“You have to, Eva Rae. You must. If she explodes, she’ll take all of us with her. You have to leave her, and then we’ll send down a bomb squad. We need to get away from here. Now!”
“They’ll be too late. He wants her to explode with us close to her like it happened back then. We lost fifteen forensic techs, Matt. My partner and I were outside in the yard when it happened. The bombs went off simultaneously, and the house crashed on top of them. They all died. Each and every one of them!”
“You can’t save her, Eva Rae. You can save yourself, but you can’t save her if it explodes anyway.”
I stared at the stitches on Tara’s abdomen. “She’s someone’s daughter, Matt. Somewhere, her mother is waiting for her to come home. I have to save her. I simply have to!”
“You can’t. Don’t you understand, Eva Rae?”
I held the girl closer still, sobbing helplessly, then made my decision. I was about to put her down but then ran for the door instead.
“Eva Rae!”
I didn’t listen. I carried the girl through the metal door, crying like crazy, Matt following behind me.
“COMING THROUGH!” I yelled up toward the entrance to the bunker, then climbed up the steps, holding her tightly, shaking violently in fear.
Please, don’t explode. Please, don’t go off now. Not now.
I reached the last step and could hear Matt panting agitatedly behind me. Sgt. Mason reached down to help me, to grab the girl from my arms, but I yelled at him to get away.
