You Can't Hide: A pulse-pounding serial killer thriller (7th Street Crew Book 3)

by Willow Rose

  PTSD they told them it was once they came home from Afghanistan. They both have it, but his brother is worse than him. Boxer never understood why his brother got it worse than him, since they were both there when the bomb went off, when that little kid blew herself up.

  Boxer’s brother shouldn’t be feeling as guilty as Boxer does. He wasn’t the one who was supposed to have shot the kid; he wasn’t the one who could have saved another man’s life. Still, he suffered more mentally afterwards. He took it harder somehow. Boxer never understood why. Yes, Boxer was tormented by it every day and still sometimes at night as well, anguished by those small brown eyes staring at him from a face so innocent and harmless. But he has learned to live with it. Taking care of his family makes him forget. It helps him to push it back and not worry about it.

  Why can’t his brother do the same? He has to move on at some point, doesn’t he? It’s all about not thinking about it. Like with the girls. Don’t get attached to them, don’t like them, don’t worry what happens to them after the delivery. It’s not your problem. You don’t have to care.

  Boxer walks to the back of the house and opens the door. He kneels in front of the dog crate, where Paige looks back at him. She is still sobbing, her lips vibrating.

  “Please, let me go home,” she whispers.

  Boxer stares at her, looks deep into her eyes, and when he does, all he sees is that kid, that little girl on that dusty road, staring at him softly like her eyes were asking him to like her, reeling him in, telling him not to shoot. And that was the reason someone had to die, that was why it all went wrong, because Boxer believed those eyes, because he allowed himself to hesitate for just one second.

  It’ll never happen again.

  “Please. I want to go home. Why are you doing this to me? Why?”

  Boxer remains motionless. He is not moved by her pleas. She is not important. She’s nothing but a means to an end. And it’s only fair to make these little girls pay for what Boxer and his family have had to go through, since he was a kid, just like her, that brought them into this situation in the first place. A kid, just like this young one with big brown innocent eyes just like these, destroyed everything.

  “What are you going to do to me?” she asks, her voice shaking in fear. But he doesn’t fall for it.

  I don’t owe you an answer. I don’t owe you anything, you little monster!

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  April 1975

  Danh hardly feels it when he is lifted up and taken aboard the ship. His eyes open a few times and he thinks it is just a dream, that he is floating in the air. Maybe he is dead? Maybe this is what it feels like?

  He doesn’t fully wake up till three days later, when someone presses a water bottle in between his lips and he feels like he is drowning.

  When he opens his eyes, he realizes it is Long holding the bottle. She is smiling. She even has a sparkle in her eyes. She is still small and skinny, and he can see her collarbone sticking out above her shirt, but she’s alive. She’s alive and well.

  How?

  Bao is sitting next to him. When he hears him cough, he turns his head. “He’s awake? Finally! That took you some time, brother. Even Long came around before you did.”

  Danh wipes his mouth and sits up straight, covering his eyes from the brightness of the burning sun above them. He grabs the bottle and drinks greedily. He drinks too fast and chokes, then coughs and spits some of it out on the deck.

  “Don’t spill it,” Bao scolds. “They have given us water, but not so much we can just spill it.”

  “Sorry,” Danh says. He leans his head back against the wall behind him. He is exhausted. “Where are we?”

  “On another ship. A much bigger one,” Bao says. “They found us drifting in the middle of the ocean and picked us up.”

  Danh looks around. He spots a man with a machine gun walking by. The man glances at them shortly and he smiles, showing off a couple of gold teeth before he continues his walk. He approaches another guy who looks just like him and who is also heavily armed.

  “Who are these people? They’re not Vietnamese,” Danh asks.

  “No. We don’t know where they’re from. We try not to ask questions. They picked us out of the ocean and had medicine for Long. Her fever is gone already. It’s a true miracle.”

  Danh looks at his baby sister and his heart goes soft. Her eyes are back to their sweet selves, the most beautiful sight Danh could imagine seeing. Hearing her small voice is music to him, so soothing.

  “Do we know where they’re heading?” Danh asks Bao.

  “They haven’t spoken to us much,” Bao says. “They just gave us water and medicine and some bread and rice to eat.” Bao grabs some bread and hands it to Danh. “It’s not much, but enough to keep us alive. Now eat.”

  Danh pulls the bread out of Bao’s hand and starts to eat, stuffing his mouth with it. He hardly chews it, but he swallows big pieces before he eats more, groaning and grunting like a wild animal.

  “Take it easy, Danh,” Bao says. “It takes a while for your stomach to get used to food again.”

  But Danh doesn’t care. He eats everything Bao gave him and asks for more, but Bao tells him he can’t take too much at a time, it’s not good for him, and besides, they need to ration the food, they don’t know when or if they’ll get more.

  Danh understands. He is happy with what he has gotten so far and just the fact that his sister survived this and is now playing in front of him, turning in the sunlight on the deck, dancing and humming the song their mother used to sing for them, means the world to him. Nothing could make him happier.

  “That’s it, your majesty,” he says and claps his hands. He never thought he was going to see her dance again.

  It’s the best moment of his life.

  Danh looks at his sister as she does her dance just like she used to back home. It’s not until halfway through that he realizes her little dance has gathered a crowd. A crowd of men staring at her, wearing hungry smiles and machine guns.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  April 2016

  “But they must have been killed recently, am I right?” I ask, as I place a plate of cookies in front of Detective Fisher.

  “I mean, the bodies were pretty intact, even after lying in the water. If they had been there long, they would have been in more of a state of decay and animals would have eaten from them, am I right?”

  Fisher grabs a cookie. “The bodies were exceptionally intact, yes. You’re right about that. We haven’t received the autopsy yet, so there really isn’t much I can say on that account.”

  “But, where have they been? They’ve been gone for a year,” I ask, wondering about Tara and Maria, wondering if they are in the same place as Kim and Casey Taylor were before they were killed.

  “I wish I could answer that,” he says.

  “Of course.”

  Fisher clears his throat. “So far, we need to wait for the autopsy to be finished, but I felt like I needed to address this with you, since you were the one who knew about these girls disappearing. What else do you know?”

  “Well, actually it wasn’t me,” I say and sip my coffee.

  “Then who was it? Chloe?”

  “No. Danny.”

  “Danny Schmidt?”

  “Yes. He was the one who found out that Tara and Maria were missing and then started to research this and found all the other single moms that had gone missing with their daughters.”

  Fisher nods pensively. “All right. I guess I’ll have a chat with him, then.”

  “I think he’s working today,” I say.

  “I’ll grab ahold of him later, then,” Fisher says, and gets up from his chair. “Thanks for the coffee and the delicious cookies. You make these yourself?”

  “Well, yes, I do.”

  “She’s a magician in a kitchen,” my dad says from his chair in the corner, where he has been sitting with his eyes closed during my talk with the detective.

  “I thought you w
ere sleeping,” I say.

  My dad answers with a wide smile. I give the detective my hand.

  “Let me know if you come across anything that you think might be of importance to this case,” he says.

  “Sure. Let me walk you out.” I open the sliding door, but the detective refuses to go first, so I do. “Have you thought about a possible link between these disappearances and Paige Stover’s?” I ask, as we approach the front door.

  He nods. “Naturally, I have.”

  “It could have gone wrong for the kidnappers,” I say and open the door for him. I can tell he doesn’t like me doing that. Down here, men hold the doors for the ladies, not the other way around. After living in New York, I have almost forgotten my southern etiquette. It amuses me a little. “Maybe the fact that she was in an accident threw them off?”

  Fisher nods, holding his file under his arm. He walks outside towards his car, then stops.

  “Just one more thing,” he says.

  “Yes?”

  Fisher takes a step back towards me. “Why was Danny Schmidt so interested in Tara and Maria Verlinden in the first place?”

  I shrug and pretend I don’t know. “You’ll have to ask him about that.”

  Fisher points at me. “I think I will. I think I will.” Then he waves, turns on his heel, and walks to his car.

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  April 2016

  Where is she? Where is my daughter?

  It’s bad enough that she has been hit by a car, that both her legs are broken and several bones in the rest of her body are too, that she can hardly move and has to lie in this hospital bed that is way too soft for her back. That’s all bad enough. But the fact that she has no idea where her daughter is, is devastating.

  Nicky stares out her window from Cape Canaveral Hospital. The view from her room is stunning. Intracoastal waters as far as she can see. The hospital is on a peninsula and has water all around it. It’s gorgeous, but there is no way Nicky can enjoy all that. All she wants is to get out of this room and look for her daughter.

  Where are you, my sweetheart? Where are you?

  The nurses and doctors only focus on Nicky’s health and only come in to give her medicine or to have her sign papers. Sometimes a doctor comes in and tells her how she is doing. As if she cares how her body is healing? As if she cares about any of that when her daughter is out there somewhere scared, terrified with fear because her mother is not there with her. Nicky just knows she is. She can feel it.

  Nicky cries in the bed. The tears soak her pillow, while all she can do is stare out at the stupid water, the same water they just fished two bodies out of yesterday. Nicky saw it on the news last night, where she also saw the story of her own daughter gone missing and saw her picture above the phone number you could call if you saw her.

  Her own daughter! Paige on TV because she is missing!

  The police have been to her hospital room twice since the accident and asked her a ton of questions. They wanted to know all about the child’s father, if he could have taken her, if they had any unsolved disputes between them and so on. Nicky answered all of them, telling them the father wasn’t in the picture at all, that he is gone and never was interested in Paige, that she hasn’t seen him in twelve years, so why would he suddenly care now?

  They told her it’s not unusual, so now Nicky wonders if Mike is actually out there somewhere holding the hand of their daughter. She imagines the two of them on the road together, eating burgers and milkshakes, with Paige asking him to take her back to her mother.

  She must be so scared, the poor thing.

  Still it is more comforting for Nicky to think about Paige being with her father than in the hands of some stranger, some pedophile who wants to harm her. Of course, she has thought about that as well. Who wouldn’t?

  “Nicky Stover?” A voice says and pulls her out of her nightmarish reverie.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m detective Fisher with Cocoa Beach Police Department.” He shows her his badge.

  Nicky starts to cry again. “Please tell me you found her.”

  His eyes tell her they haven’t. “I’m sorry.”

  Her heart drops. “I didn’t think so.”

  “But I want you to know that we are working as hard as we can to find her. We have called in extra help from the surrounding cities, and everyone is on the lookout for your daughter.”

  “That’s good,” she says. “Tell me you won’t give up.”

  “I can promise you I’ll do everything in my power. But I need a little help, so if you could just answer some questions…”

  “Sure. Anything,” Nicky says. “Just bring my baby back to me.”

  The detective nods. “Like I said. I’ll do all that I can.” He reaches into his files and pulls out a picture of a man.

  “Do you recognize this man?” he asks.

  Nicky nods. “Well, yes. I do.”

  “Does he know your daughter?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where from?”

  “From basketball, from the rec center.”

  The detective writes it down, then nods. “I see. Good. Thank you.”

  “You don’t suspect he has taken Paige, do you?” she asks, surprised.

  “Right now we’re looking into all the angles we can,” he replies and closes the file with the picture.

  He lifts his cap as he is about to leave. “Thank you for your answer. I’ll be in touch.”

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  April 2016

  Monday, just before noon, Danny returns to his house after his twenty-four hour shift. He turns his key in the lock and walks inside. He puts his backpack on the couch, walks to the kitchen, and grabs a glass of water.

  He sighs, looking over the river, thinking about the mother and daughter that were pulled out of that same water the day before yesterday. He was so scared that it was Tara and Maria they had found. Terrified when he helped them pull the kid’s body out. Until he saw the face and knew it wasn’t her.

  Danny drinks his glass and empties it. He hears a sound and turns to look. It sounds like the TV is on in Junior’s room. He walks down the hallway, opens the door, and finds Junior inside, still in his bed.

  “Why aren’t you in school?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  That’s the most Junior has spoken to him since he told him about his sister and the affair.

  “Well, it’s quite important actually. You have that exam today, don’t you?” Danny asks, trying hard to keep his cool and not explode in a fit of rage. Junior is graduating in just a few weeks. How can he skip school at an important time like this?

  “I don’t know,” he grumbles.

  “Yes, you do know. You never miss school. Are you at least sick?”

  Junior doesn’t answer. He stares at the TV and pretends Danny isn’t there. “Come on, Junior,” Danny says. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

  “What do you care?”

  Danny sighs deeply. He walks in and sits on the edge of the bed. Junior doesn’t even look at him. “Son. You must know I care. I care a lot about you. I care that you are well, that you get a good education and don’t throw everything you’ve worked for away like this. I care a lot.”

  “Not enough to not cheat on Mom,” he says.

  “Ouch. Guess I deserved that.”

  “Yes, you sure did.”

  At least he is talking to you. At least he’s opening up now. Don’t ruin it by getting mad.

  “All right. You’re right. I have been a terrible father. I cheated on your mother and I had another child. But at least I cared enough about you to stay here. Yes, that’s right. I stayed for you, Junior. Because I felt you deserved to have a father. Meanwhile, Tara grew up without one. Meanwhile, I let the woman I love…”

  “The woman you what?” Junior asks and sits up straight in the bed, eyes wide, nostrils flaring.

  Danny pushes back tears, thinking about Maria and how badly he wanted to be with her
back then, how he dreamt about leaving everything, leaving Jean who never loved him, who treated him like dirt, and going to live with her and their daughter.

  “You heard me. I loved Maria. I was in love with her. And now she’s…she’s…I don’t know what happened to them.”

  Junior stares at Danny, biting his lip. “You really loved her?”

  Danny nods. “Yes. But I stayed here. To be with you. To make sure you were well taken care of.”

  Junior shrugs. He doesn’t seem as angry as he was before. “So what? Now you want a medal?”

  Danny chuckles. “No. No. I don’t want that. I don’t even expect you to understand, at least not till you’re way older, but I think you deserve to know the truth.”

  Junior doesn’t say any more. His glare returns to the TV and he shuts Danny out again. Danny sighs, gets up from the bed, and walks to the door. “Now I need to take a nap. It’s been a long shift.”

  “Wait…” Junior says.

  Danny pauses, hand on the door, and turns around.

  “Thanks.”

  The look in Junior’s eyes warms him. “Don’t thank me,” Danny says. “Just promise you’ll go to school tomorrow, okay?”

  He walks out of the room and down the hallway. As he grabs his phone from his backpack, there is a knock on the front door. Danny opens it.

  “Detective Fisher?”

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  April 2016

  “So, where were you Saturday morning between eight and nine fifteen?”

  Detective Chris Fisher stares at Danny across the table in the small room at the police station. Danny is not sure he understands what is going on. They haven’t told him anything. All Fisher said when he came to Danny’s house was that he needed him to come to the station with him. Now he’s looking at Danny in a way that makes him very uncomfortable in his chair. His hands are getting sweaty. He has known Chris Fisher since they were children, and as the captain of the fire department, Danny has worked together with the Cocoa Beach Police and Fisher for many years. But never has he seen that look on his face when speaking to him.