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

by Willow Rose

  I bite my nails, even though I practically have no nails left. I look at my phone again and again. Then I call Chloe up.

  “What’s up?” she asks.

  “Salter didn’t come home from school. I’m scared, Chloe.”

  “Well, with everything that has been going on lately, I can’t blame you,” she says. “But don’t you think he might be at a friend’s house or something?”

  “I don’t know,” I say.

  “I’ll be over in a sec.”

  She doesn’t exaggerate. I have barely hung up before she knocks, then walks in. She gives me a hug. “Are you all right? Now, don’t freak out, okay? Stay calm. It’s probably nothing. You hear me?”

  I bite the inside of my mouth, while I nod. “Where is Danny?” I ask.

  “He went to the police station for more questioning,” she says.

  I try really hard to not break down and cry. My stomach is turning. It’s the worst feeling in the world to not know where your child is.

  Chapter Eighty-Three

  April 2016

  A couple of hours later, he has still not shown up, and I am getting really anxious now. I call the crew and everyone shows up, except Danny, who we are guessing is still being questioned by the police. Even Joey finally shows his face, dragging Jackie along with him.

  “Where were you all day?” I yell at him as he enters. “I’ve called and called and you didn’t answer. Our son is missing, in case you didn’t know!”

  There you go. Take it all out on Joey. That’ll help.

  I hide my face in my hands. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m freaking out here.”

  “Me too,” Joey says and grabs me in his arms. He hugs me for a long time and I let go and cry. Jackie is standing awkwardly behind us, not knowing what to do with herself. Joey looks me in the eyes.

  “We’ll find him, okay? I promise you we’ll find him.”

  Jackie walks closer and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Yes, Mary. He’ll show up eventually. It’s a small town.”

  She’s being nice. I know she is, but I can’t stand it. I can’t stand her in my presence. I force a smile and nod.

  “The others are in the kitchen.”

  They follow me there. Everyone has a phone to his or her ear. Alex looks up and nods at Joey, so does Sandra, while Chloe and Marcia are both way too engaged to notice him.

  “Marcia’s boy Mark is out on his bike searching the area,” I say, filling him in on where we’re at. “He knows all the places the boys hang out around here, like the skate park, the bike trails, and so on. If Salter has taken off with some of his friends and just decided to not tell us, he’ll find him. He has even enlisted some of his friends from eighth grade to help him out. These boys know the area.”

  Joey nods. “That’s good. That’s real good.”

  “Marcia has also asked Mark to send out texts to everyone he knows at the high school, asking for their help and seeing if they’ve seen anything. Alex’s daughter, Ava is the same age as Salter and she knows everyone at the school. They’re busy calling people and getting them involved.”

  Joey nods again.

  “Chloe is trying to get ahold of the bus driver who drove the school bus home, Mrs. T., to see if she knows anything, like if Salter met some friends when he got off the bus or…well, you know…” I am about to tear up, thinking about Salter meeting some creepy guy who kidnaps him, but decide to push it back. There is no time to cry now. “Well, basically anything.” I pause. “Meanwhile, Sandra is making sure everyone has coffee and banana cake.”

  Joey smiles softly. “Salter’s favorite.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I say, swallowing a knot in my throat.

  “What can I do?” Joey asks. I can tell he is about to tear up. I am guessing, that seeing this, seeing all these people working like this to get our son back made it all very real to him. He is probably just realizing the seriousness of it all now.

  I hand him my phone. “I want you to call the police. It’s been four hours now. The sun will set in less than two hours. I need them to start looking for our boy.”

  Joey grabs the phone with an anxious look. “We gotta do what we can now,” I say. “We have to find him before nighttime. We’ve simply got to.”

  Chapter Eighty-Four

  April 1975

  Danh carries Long’s lifeless body up on the deck. His body is threatening to crumble as he takes one step at a time towards the bright deck, bathed in sunlight. He walks outside and turns towards the place where Bao is sitting. All the while, he is thinking about Long, imagining her dancing for him again, seeing her laugh and smile for his inner eyes, pretending, playing with him like they used to.

  Your majesty! Don’t leave me this way!

  Men on the deck watch him as he walks. He doesn’t even look at them. All he can focus on right now is her, her small fragile beat-up body between his hands.

  Bao rises to his feet as he spots Danh walking towards him. Danh starts to cry again when he looks at his brother and he sees the realization sink in.

  “No!” Bao says as their eyes meet. “No!”

  Danh nods. He stretches out his arms towards Bao, so he can better see their sister or what is left of her.

  “Please, God, no. Please not Long!”

  Danh can’t stand anymore. He falls to his knees, Long still in his arms. He is crying and leans forward above her body. Bao falls down on his knees as well and they cry and yell in anger.

  “Why her? Why her?” Bao cries out towards the sky.

  They stay like that for hours on end. As darkness sinks upon the ship, they finally do what they know they have to. They say their goodbyes, each of them tell a story of their baby sister, from when she was still alive, then in unison, they lift Long over the railing and let her fall into the vast dark ocean.

  They sink onto the deck in each other’s arms, and cry their way through the night, tired, exhausted, and beaten.

  Especially Bao seems to have lost the will to continue. In the coming days, he walks around, not talking to Danh, just shifting between crying and staring at the ocean, and Danh soon fears for him and wonders if he is thinking about ending it all, of jumping into the ocean and leaving Danh.

  But that is not what is on Bao’s mind.

  Three days after Long’s death, he finally speaks to Danh. In the middle of the night, he comes to him carrying bread and meat leftovers from the trash can.

  There’s a new fire in his eyes that Danh doesn’t recognize as he speaks to him. “I heard we will soon be close to land,” he says, while gnawing on an already half eaten chicken bone. “I overheard two men talking about it. They think we’re only two days away.”

  Danh lights up. There is nothing he is looking more forward to than getting off this ship. He has lost track of how long they have been on the ocean and can’t wait to feel the solid ground beneath his feet again. He longs to smell the grass, to see trees and mountains. He never wants to see the ocean again after this. Never. If only Long could have been here to experience it with him. If only.

  “That’s good news, right?” he says.

  Bao bites his lips, then gnaws on the chicken bone until there is nothing left on it. “Depends on how you look at it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Bao turns his head and looks straight into Danh’s eyes. The look in them frightens him slightly.

  “It depends on if you think it’s alright for these bastards to get away with killing your sister.”

  Chapter Eighty-Five

  April 2016

  Feet are walking across the wooden floors. Heavy feet that make the floors creak eerily, while Paige is holding on to the rocks inside the chimney. One of her fingers has already slipped and several others are on their way too.

  The steps are coming closer.

  “Come out, come out wherever you are,” he says. “You cannot hide forever, you know. This house has eleven bedrooms and twelve bathrooms, but I know every corner, and every hiding
spot. I will find you. It’s only a matter of time.”

  Paige lets out a small whimper, then closes her eyes, biting her lip so hard she can taste blood.

  Did he hear me?

  More steps across the wood. Paige can see his shoes now through the opening of the chimney. She holds her breath. The girl above her doesn’t move at all. Paige finds it hard to hold on. Another of her fingers slips and she is now holding on with only three fingers. She closes her eyes, sweat springing from her forehead. Her hands are getting clammy and that makes them even more slippery.

  “Where are you hiding, little girl?” the man says.

  Paige is clinging on to the rocks, barely holding on with her fingertips when her right hand slips and she falls to the side, barely managing to grab on to the wall with the palm of her hand. Her foot is about to lose its grip and she moves it higher up, hoping and praying the man won’t hear her.

  She holds her breath and waits in the silence for the man to make his move, imagining him reach his arm up the chimney, grabbing her leg and pulling her out. She is shaking with fear. Her eyes are fixated on the black shoes, when suddenly they move. She watches as they turn around and start to walk away. She listens to every step as they slowly disappear. When the door is finally closed, her hand slips again and she falls to the bottom of the chimney. Coughing and panting, she rolls onto the floor. Seconds later, a pair of legs comes out after her and a small face appears. Paige is lying on the floor, catching her breath, trying hard not to panic.

  The girl comes out, then sits next to her.

  “I’m Tara,” she says.

  “I’m Paige.”

  “Just arrived?” she asks.

  Paige nods.

  “You’re good at playing this. It took a long time before I found this spot. He hasn’t found me up there yet.”

  Paige looks at Tara. She is skinny and dirty. She looks tired. “How long have you been here?”

  Tara shrugs. “Who knows? I stay hidden and live off food I find in the pantry downstairs when he leaves the house or at night. He keeps Cheerios boxes there. Lots of them. I don’t think he realizes any are gone.”

  Paige looks at her with hope. “He leaves?”

  “He does. But he always comes back.”

  Paige looks around. Her heart is still racing in her chest. She is trembling and can’t hold her hands still.

  “What does he do with you if he catches you?”

  The girl doesn’t look at her. She stares out the window where the sun is about to set. The river is glistening and birds are flying low.

  “You don’t want to know,” she simply says, and Paige knows not to ask again.

  Chapter Eighty-Six

  April 2016

  Never has watching the sun set been such a nightmare for me. I stare out the window as darkness settles on the ocean and the shadows grow longer on the beach until they finally vanish.

  Where are you, Salter?

  Tom has arrived too and now he brings me a cup of coffee. “How’re you doing?” he asks.

  I exhale and look at the steaming cup between my hands. My stomach is in one big knot. “How do I feel?” I say. “Let me tell you how I feel. I want to scream. I want to yell and scream hysterically.”

  “Can’t blame you,” Tom says and sips his own cup.

  I look at him. It feels good to be near him. His calmness makes me feel better. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Joey. He is standing across the living room, his eyes resting on me and Tom. He looks a little like a boy whose toy was stolen from him. It’s the first time the two of them have been in the same room together, even though I have told him I was seeing someone. Of all the circumstances in which they could have met, this is the strangest one. I can tell Joey isn’t happy about having him here, but since he brought Jackie, I don’t have to care.

  “Here it comes,” Chloe says and turns up the volume on the TV.

  Every eye in the room turns to look at the screen as the picture of my son appears behind the anchor, and she, with very serious eyes, says the words ‘amber-alert’ and ‘missing’ in the same sentence. That is when I finally break down. Seeing my baby boy on the screen like that, hearing her say that the police in Cocoa Beach want everyone to be on the lookout for this kid, shatters my heart to pieces.

  I feel Tom’s arm around me, trying to catch me as I fall forward to my knees, crying, weeping helplessly.

  “It’ll be all right, Mary,” Tom says. “We’ll find him. We will find him.”

  Chloe turns off the sound, and hurries to me. She squats next to me. “Salter is a tough kid, Mary. And you’re a tough mom. We will get him home, you hear me? I won’t rest till we do. None of us will.”

  I look up and see the faces of the crew. All my friends have approached me. They’re surrounding me.

  “Chloe is right,” Danny says. “You’re always there for us.”

  Marcia nods, tears in her eyes. She clenches her fists and knocks on her heart. “Always, Mary. To the end of the world.”

  Sandra is there too. She reaches down her hand. I grab it and let her pull me to my feet. She smiles, her eyes damp. Alex is standing behind her.

  “You’re not alone in this,” Sandra says.

  We all join in a group hug, only Joey is standing outside looking at us, Jackie by his side. The TV is still on and now the woman presents a new story. I let go of my friends and walk to it, then turn the sound back up.

  “What is it, Mary?” Chloe asks.

  “It’s a piece about the bodies they pulled out of the river the other day,” I answer. “The mom and the daughter, Kim and Casey Taylor.”

  “What about them?” she asks.

  I turn to look at her. “They say they were embalmed.”

  “They were what?” she asks, lifting both her eyebrows.

  “Embalmed. She just said they were embalmed before they were thrown in the water. Apparently, they can’t determine exactly when they were killed, since their bodies are so pumped full of formaldehyde there is almost no decomposition.”

  A gazillion thoughts go through my mind as I watch the piece. They show pictures from the canal where they found the bodies, then the police state that they need the public’s help in this case. I watch the pictures of Kim and Casey Taylor while they were still alive. It’s all churning inside my mind, mixed with images of Tara and Maria, Paige and Salter.

  “The sick bastard,” I mumble.

  “What’s that?” Chloe asks. “Who?”

  “Boxer. I think it’s time for us to pay him a visit.”

  “You can’t do that,” she says.

  I look at her, making sure there is no doubt that I am being serious here. Very serious.

  “Try and stop me.”

  Chapter Eighty-Seven

  April 2016

  He pulls out his suitcase and puts in on the bed. He pulls out shirts, underwear, pants, and shoes and throws them in.

  “You might need to take your jacket too where you’re going,” his brother says, standing in the doorway, holding a bottle of gin.

  “Stay out of this,” Boxer snarls, but grabs the one winter coat he owns that he’s never used while living in Florida, and throws it in as well.

  “So, you’re just going to leave me here?” His brother lifts the bottle and drinks from it, like was it water.

  Boxer stares at him and sighs. “I can’t stay. I have to go. They found those two bodies and I am afraid it will only be a few days before they trace them back to me. Or they’ll find out that I took Paige Stover. Even though I know they have Danny Schmidt at the station, I’m afraid. It’s getting too dangerous. I’ve saved enough money. I’ll never have to work again.”

  Boxer grabs the suitcase and walks out the door. His brother follows him closely down the stairs.

  “What about Mom?”

  Boxer stops at the bottom of the stairs, closes his eyes, and takes in a deep breath. He had to bring her up, didn’t he? He simply had to poke at his guilt. His dying mother. The
ir dying mother.

  “I don’t know,” he says. “I guess I’ll keep paying for her. They’ll take care of her at the hospice.”

  “But who will visit her?” his brother asks. “She’ll get lonely.”

  “That’s not my problem,” Boxer hisses. “How about you do it for once? How about you do something?”

  He manages to calm himself down just as there is a knock on his front door. Not just a simple knock, but an aggressive, hard knock. Not with authority like the police knock, more like someone in a hurry to get in.

  Boxer puts down the suitcase, walks to the window, and looks out from behind the curtain. A woman is out there. Boxer recognizes her face from the day of the rally. She was the one who took the pictures and posted them on Facebook, leading him to Paige. He remembers her name was Mary, Mary Mills or something like that. And when they later had that search party for Paige, he was holding her hand. She had sweaty fingers, he remembers.

  What does she want?

  “I know you’re in there!” she yells. “Open the door. Open it now.”

  The woman is not alone. She’s with another woman. She is small, red-haired, pale, and wearing glasses. They seem harmless, so he decides to open the door.

  Boxer smiles. “Hello. What can I help you with?”

  He looks into the eyes of Mary Mills and quickly regrets having opened the door. They’re filled with what seems to him like obsessed anger and pillars of fire.

  “Where is my son?” she asks, spitting as the words leave her lips.

  Boxer stares at her. He shakes his head slowly in confusion. “Your son…I…I’m not sure…”

  “Don’t give me that,” she says. “I know you have him. What have you done with him, you sick bastard?”

  “I’m not sure…” Boxer looks at the other woman for help. “What is she talking about?”

  Mary takes a step closer. It frightens him a little, and without thinking about it he takes a step backwards into the living room.