Purgatory Creek

by C. E. Nelson

  A battery charger sat on a small table next to the chair. Daniel wasn’t sure yet how he would use it. He was going to experiment. Perhaps just connect it to the chair first and see what that would do. Maybe put a clamp on each of Trask’s ankles or wrists, or maybe the man’s ears.

  A small tube hung from the ceiling over the back of the chair. The tube ran across the ceiling and then down to a small motor on the floor. Another tube ran from the motor to a large bucket next to it. The bucket was filled with water. When the motor was running, it would draw a small amount of water from the bucket and move it down the tube. The water would drip, very slowly, from the tube on the head of Trask as he sat in the chair. Daniel was sure that after all of the years he had suffered he was patient enough to sit and watch how Trask would react.

  And there was more. A shelf along the far wall held all sorts of knives and scalpels and needles. Things that would hurt. Things that would hurt Trask. Make him suffer. Make him scream. Something no one would hear because Daniel had made sure the room was soundproof.

  And Daniel wanted to be sure that Trask suffered. Trask had made Daniel’s life a living hell. He had been ostracized by his family, friends, and neighbors. The press had hounded him for what seemed an eternity, going through his garbage, trying to dig up anything they could about his past. Daniel had lost his job. His supervisor had told him his position was eliminated, but Daniel knew that wasn’t the case. No one wanted him at the company. Or anywhere else for that matter. Store clerks had refused to help him, and he had been denied him service at nearly every restaurant.

  Daniel considered running away, moving, and had sold his house, but he had stayed. Changed his name and appearance. Stayed inside as much as he could. And made his plans. His plans for revenge on the man who had done this to him. Don Trask.

  Just as Daniel had dragged Trask into the room, Trask had made a noise, almost a growl. Trask’s head had moved, and Daniel thought he saw Trask’s eyelids flicker. Trask was waking up. Not good. Even with the man bound with tape, Daniel wasn’t sure he could handle the bigger man if he was awake and resisting. Had to hurry now.

  Daniel got Trask to the floor by the chair and spun him around so Trask’s head was pointing at the chair, his back on the floor. Daniel had attached a cable to an eyebolt above the chair, a hook on the end of the cable. The other end of the cable went to a winch behind the chair. He ran the cable under Trask’s arms, hooking the cable behind Trask, and then cranking the winch.

  Trask moved. Trask’s head reached the bottom of the chair and wedged there. He wouldn’t move. Daniel came around, and with great effort got Trask in a sitting position leaning on the chair. Daniel went back to the winch, took up the slack, and cranked again. Trask moved again. He got Trask’s lower back nearly up to the seat when something stopped his progress. Trask’s belt had caught on the edge of the seat. Daniel stood with Trask between his legs, reached under Trask’s thighs, and lifted.

  Trask’s eyes popped open, startling Daniel who fell back on the floor. Trask seemed to stare at Daniel for just a moment and then kicked out his legs. It was enough to free the belt. Daniel scrambled to his feet and ran to the winch, cranking as hard as he could, pulling Trask up on the chair. He expected Trask to be writhing, trying to get free, but there was no movement. Trask’s head had fallen to the side. Daniel looked at Trask, poking him in the shoulder, but got no reaction.

  He left the cable taut while he cut the tape on Trask’s wrists and ankles, taping them to the chair. Holding Trask by his shirt collar, he pushed him forward and released the hook on the cable, winching the cable up. Daniel then pulled Trask’s head to the back of the chair, running a heavy wire from the back of the chair, under Trask’s chin, and then securing it in back of the chair. After he did this he became concerned Trask might choke. Didn't want that. Yet. Trask was making sounds again. Daniel ran tape across Trask’s shoulders and around the chair, eliminating any chance the man might tip forward. Finally, he pulled the tape off Trask’s mouth. He wanted to hear him suffer.

  Chapter 44

  Austin had no idea what time it was. His neck was sore from his head leaning forward. He lifted his head, trying to relieve the pain, but found his head so heavy it was hard to hold up. Had no energy. And then he became aware of the smell. Sometime during the night, he had released his bowels. The voice would be angry.

  The boy tried to listen for the sound of his captor but heard nothing. There was a searing pain in his stomach now, a red-hot wire around his stomach pulling tight. Tears ran again and his head bowed. He felt exhausted, could hardly keep his eyes open, finally letting them shut as his chin settled on his chest.

  But then he couldn’t sleep. His eyes went open, and he took a deep breath, or he tried to. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. His heart was pounding, beating so loud he was sure that the voice would hear. Breaths were rapid now, Austin afraid his heart could not keep up the pace, afraid he was dying. And then he was tired again. His heart continued its pounding, trying to escape his chest, but the boy’s eyelids would not stay open. His head dropped to his chest and he was out.

  Cheryl Little lifted her eyelids with what seemed a great effort. She was on her back, the room dark. No, not quite dark. There was some light to her right. She turned her head to see a window, shades drawn, but some light leaking through. Trying to figure out where she was. Trying to remember.

  And then she did remember. Mark shouting, yelling at her, holding the dinosaur. Michael shouting now too. Arguing with his father. The knife.

  “No!”

  A nurse seemed to materialize out of nowhere, holding her forearm. “You’re awake. Are you all right?” she asked as she checked the monitors and drips.

  Little was taking shallow rapid breaths, trying to calm. “Where am I?”

  “Methodist. You’ve been sedated to help you sleep. Can I get you anything?”

  “What day is it? What time?”

  “Sunday. Not quite seven in the morning.” The nurse checked Little’s water cup. “How about some water? Your mouth is probably dry.”

  “My son? What has happened?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know.”

  Little tried to sit up, and the nurse pushed her back down.

  “I need to find out about my son.”

  “OK. Let me talk to my supervisor, and we’ll see what we can find out.”

  “No. Now. Call Detective Grace.” Little found the card on her tray and handed it to the nurse. “Call him now.”

  Grace was in a daze. He had incorporated the buzzing of his phone into a dream. Finally picked up the phone by his head and looked at the number. Didn’t recognize it, thought about ignoring the call and going back to sleep, but then pushed the icon to answer.

  “Hello?” he said, leaning on a shoulder.

  “Detective Grace?”

  “Yeah. Who is this?”

  “This is Mary Landry. I’m a nurse caring for Cheryl Little. She’d like to talk to you.”

  Grace was awake now, sitting up. “Sure. Put her on.”

  “Detective Grace. Have you found my son?”

  “No, sorry mam.” There was silence on the other end. “Look Mrs. Little, we could use your help to find him. Can you give me the names of specific neighbors Michael may go to? Would trust?”

  Little was trying to get over her disappointment at the news. “Um, sure.”

  “OK, hang on, let me get a pen and paper.”

  Little could hear Grace moving, opening a drawer. He came back on, and she gave him names of neighbors.

  “How about others? Friends?”

  “Not really. We were in a playgroup with other autistic kids when he was younger, but that was a long time ago. A few of the younger kids in the area would come by, and they’d play video games, but not very often.”

  “Like who?”

  “Oh, the Jameson boy, Jamie, and Austin Newman.”

  Michael knew Austin. “OK, thanks Mrs. Little. We will let you know wh
en we find him.”

  Grace disconnected and thought about calling Palm. Looked at the clock by his bed. Said “Ten minutes” and flopped back in bed.

  Trask’s eyes popped open and then he took a deep breath, immediately coughing. Water ran down his face, his shirt soaked. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to clear his vision, the water dripping down from his forehead. Attempted to reach up to wipe the water from his face, but his arms wouldn’t move. Turned his head and bent forward to see why. A searing pain in his neck, choking him, and he pulled his head back, hitting it hard on the chair. Shut his eyes tight and grunted in pain.

  “Finally.”

  Who was there? Trask opened his eyes again and looked ahead but the bright spotlight facing him blocked any possibility of seeing who had spoken. The voice was familiar. He could see the tape around his wrists now, barely. Something was cutting into his neck, holding his head up, so that if he tried to bend his head forward it cut off his breath. Water still dripped off his eyebrows.

  “Didn’t think you’d ever wake up.”

  Daniel. Trask remembered. Drinking whiskey with Daniel and then – nothing. Besides the pain in his neck, he now became aware how much his head hurt. More than just from banging it back on whatever it hit a moment ago. Throbbing between his temples. Not the dull pain of a hangover. No, he had had little. His head hurt, inside and out.

  And the rest of him hurt too. His back ached. The rest of him felt like he had lost a bar fight to more than one guy. On top of that his stomach was churning.

  “Let me go, Daniel.” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

  “Did you say something?”

  Trask swallowed, cringing at the pain. Found that if he held his head up the pressure on his throat lessened. “Let me go.”

  Daniel laughed. “Oh no. I don’t think so. It was a major pain in the ass getting you down here. You really should lose some weight.”

  Must be in Daniel’s basement, thought Trask. “People will come looking.”

  “Maybe, but I really doubt it. You were just arrested as a sex pervert. People will just think you took off. Too embarrassed to stick around. Oh, and I pulled your car into my garage, just in case. And disabled the GPS.”

  The light was bright in his eyes as he tried to search the darkness for Daniel. It hurt to keep his eyes open. He closed his eyes, but the light tried to penetrate his lids.

  “What I can’t seem to figure out though is where is your phone. It wasn’t on you and wasn’t in your car. Nobody goes anywhere without a phone these days.”

  A dark shape moved between Trask and the light. Trask opened his eyes trying to make out Daniel.

  “Where is your phone, Trask?”

  “You won’t find it. They will use it and come looking.”

  Daniel backhanded Trask across the face. Trask tried to pull away but the wire cut into his neck, and he coughed.

  “Where is it?”

  Daniel slapped him again. Trask tasted blood on his lip. Moved his head back up to lessen the pressure.

  “Hmm. I suppose you could have lost it when you were creeping through my yard, but, I don’t think so. You seem too careful for that. Or maybe you didn’t want people using it to track you here? No, it seems to me that it is far more likely that in your rush to come and confront me you forgot it at home. Remembered your gun but forgot your phone. Pity.”

  The shadow moved out of the light, Trask shutting his eyes again. “Why?”

  Daniel laughed again. “Really? That is such a stupid question, but I suppose you deserve an answer.”

  Trask could hear a chair or something being moved close to him, to his right. Suddenly, Daniel’s voice was next to his ear, just above a whisper.

  “You ruined my life Trask – or the life I used to have. I had a good job, a nice house, neighbors who weren’t afraid of me. I even had a girlfriend. But you took all that away with your damn crusade. You branded me as a killer, a child killer. The media hounded me wherever I went. My life was destroyed. Thanks to you.”

  “Libby – "

  “Libby Carlson! I never had a damn thing to do with that! I never touched her, never knew who she was. I may have, like you, liked some naughty things with subjects who may have been a bit underage, but I had nothing to do with the murder of that girl. You were wrong, Trask. Wrong!”

  Daniel slapped Trask again, and Trask tried to yell, his voice cut off as he moved his neck against the wire. Gritted his teeth in pain.

  “No, you screwed things up for me big time, Trask. I thought about chucking it all and moving. Find someplace where no one knew me. Even went so far as to have my name changed, but then, knew I couldn’t leave. If I did it, would be admitting you were right. No, I wanted to stay. And I wanted my revenge.”

  There was quiet, and then a voice whispered in Trask’s ear. The breath warm.

  “And now, I will have my revenge.”

  Chapter 45

  The sun was up now, shining in the window of the equipment shed. Michael sat on the edge of the pads. His stomach grumbled. Michael was hungry. He tried to remember, but he wasn’t sure. He thought it was Sunday. His mom always made him a big stack of pancakes on Sunday. He could eat all she would make, and bacon too. Liked bacon a lot. The salty taste was so good. Liked to dip it in the syrup he poured over his pancakes. Would have a big glass of juice too.

  Time to go home.

  The boy slid off the pads and walked to the door. Pushed it open and leaned out. The parking lot was empty, quiet. No cars. Puddles filled low spots. No one playing any games.

  The fresh air felt good, cool compared to inside the shed. A drop of water made its way off of a leaf on a branch above the shed and hit Michael on the head, startling him. He reached up, wiped the water off his head with the palm of his hand. Looked at the dampness on his hand and realized he was very thirsty too.

  Need to go home.

  Michael took one last look around the lot and then slipped out of the shed, clutching the dinosaur in one hand, the knife in the other. He walked to the edge of the parking lot and slid down the incline.

  Palm was sitting on the edge of his bed. He did not want to get up. His body did not want to move. He looked back at the hardly used pillow on his bed. Five minutes. But he knew that wouldn’t work. He said that to himself when he got home, laying on his back, on his bed, fully clothed. And he had fallen asleep almost immediately. Now he stared at the carpet between his legs. Getting too old for this.

  He needed a shower, clean clothes, and coffee. And not necessarily in that order. Put his hands on the bed and pushed himself up. Dropped his clothes on the floor and padded to the bathroom where he showered and shaved before he returned to the bedroom to get dressed. Looked at his phone. Twenty-five minutes until he was supposed to meet Grace. Time for coffee and some toast. He was putting his phone down when it buzzed. A number he didn’t recognize.

  “Palm.”

  “Detective Palm?” said a deep voice.

  “Yeah. Who’s this?”

  “Detective, my name is Tim Scott. I am the lead investigator for the sexual crimes division of Hennepin County.”

  Palm had heard the name. Thought he had maybe bumped into the guy somewhere at a police thing. “What can I do for you? I’m kind of busy.”

  “I understand you visited a John Volk yesterday. Is that correct?”

  Palm tried to figure out how Scott would know that. “Um, yeah.”

  “We noticed that your staff was making inquiries into Mr. Volk’s past. Anyway, did you come across anything of interest when you met with Mr. Volk?”

  How had they noticed? Why? “No, not really. The guy struck me as a bit odd. And he did lie to me about his past. Said he went to Purgatory Park because he liked to watch the kids. Reminded him of his family that he said had been killed. Only we can’t see that he ever had any family.”

  There was silence for a moment. “Why were you looking at Volk?”

  “We got a kid missing. Well, a kid and a vuln
erable adult. He had been identified by some people we talked to as being a loaner at the park where a girl went missing several years ago.”

  “Libby Carlson.”

  “Yeah. So, I got – "

  “Detective. John Volk has been accessing child porn. We have been monitoring him, trying to see if he would lead us to some more of his type but now we are concerned he may be ready to run after your visit. We’re going to move in and take him down, Detective. Would you like to join us?”

  “Now?”

  “Eight.”

  Palm looked at the time. Half an hour. “OK. And I assume my partner is invited?”

  “Yes. Meet us at the corner of Eagle Drive and Creekview. Don’t be late. We won’t wait.”

  “There could be a kid in there.”

  “I know. That is why we cannot alert Volk. See you in a bit.”

  Palm called Grace and told him what was going down. Told him to come by and pick him up. Looked at his phone. Just time for coffee.

  It was Don’s car, no doubt. A search of the car revealed nothing of interest. Dave walked toward the door they had used to enter the garage, Melanie not moving. He turned to see her still standing by the car and waved her over.

  “Come on,” he whispered.

  “Come on where? We need to go in the house.”

  Dave put his finger to his lip and pointed outside. Jenkins pursed her lips but followed. Dave went up the incline until he stood by the side of the garage.

  “We need to call for back-up.”

  “We need to get in there and get Don.”

  “Back-up first. If this guy could get the drop on Don, then who knows what kind of security and traps he might have inside. Hang on a second.”

  Melanie did not want to hang on a second, but she did, listening as Trask explained to the Minnetonka dispatcher who he was and the situation.

  Dave disconnected and looked at her. “Ten minutes. Said we should wait in front for them.” Trask looked at Daniel’s house. “Forget that.”