Innocence Taken

by Janet Durbin

  "I'm sorry about all the people. By the time I heard about the van, the damage was already done. I hope you can still get a bead on the driver,” Detective Franklin said.

  "So do I Detective. This killer has no heart; he kills just for the pleasure of it, at those poor girls expense. I want him stopped before he does it again."

  "Amen,” Web said beside her.

  Both his and Officer North's expressions were hard. Nature was sure they wanted to see an end to the killings as badly as she did. Their shoes echoed across the hollow building as they walked to the van. When they reached it, the detective informed the technicians to leave. He may not have been able to reduce their influence before, but he could now. Nature hoped their touching of everything did not mar her reading of its secrets.

  The area was cleared quickly. When the four of them remained, Franklin indicated for Nature to move closer. The heart in her chest raced. Her fingers went cold inside the gloves. She forced her breathing to stay regular. None of the men were aware of her discomfort, she kept herself under control. The only one who might see anything was Web. She glanced at him and gave him a slight smile. He nodded his head in return, keeping his face blank.

  The van doors were open, revealing the straps used for restraining its victims. Nature remembered the feel of them on her extremities. She rubbed her wrists, unaware of doing so. Her attention was focused. She was building her inner strength for the visions, visions she knew were going to be extreme.

  She stepped up onto the bumper and went inside. She was thankful for the clothing covering her legs. It blocked any feelings that emanated from the flooring. Reaching the center of the van, she sat and crossed her legs. She stared at the straps hanging from the roof. They were tattered and worn, as if used far too many times.

  A curtain hung behind her, hiding the driver's seat. She remembered the image of the man as he opened them and came at her. She could imagine what the girls went through every time they parted. Again, shudders caused her shoulders to shake. Turning her attention back to the straps, she caught the outline of a toolbox sitting next to the wall. She crawled to it. Tools used to repair an engine were visible upon opening. She saw a long metal rod. She knew what it was used for; she had felt it in her dream. She reached in and brought it out, thankful for the gloves covering her hand.

  Detective Franklin watched her intently. He saw the flash of terror on her face as she withdrew a metal rod from the toolbox. It was gone before she looked at him. He remained silent.. He knew when it was time; she would tell him what caused her to fear the object in her hand so much. He thought he had an idea but would wait for her to confirm it.

  He had taken the time to research the woman in the van before her arrival. He knew of her special abilities and how she had solved so many cases; thus helping law enforcement with their job. Because of this, he knew what she needed and how to act when around her. The time in the hospital was his first experience watching her in action. He learned that it was one thing to read about it and another to actually see it in use. He knew what to expect now.

  Nature set the rod on the floor. She reached up with her left hand and started tugging at the fingers of the glove on her right one. It was as if it did not want to come off. It did after several hard tugs. She put it in a pocket, refusing to set it down. Picking up the rod again, she hesitated before touching it with her exposed hand.

  Franklin saw her posture stiffen. He saw her eyes become unfocused, rolling back until only the whites showed. He kept his attention on the woman as he heard Web step up beside him. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise when he saw several expressions flow across Nature's face. He was glad he did not see what she was enduring. He took a quick glance at the man beside him. His face spoke volumes of his feeling for the woman in the van. Franklin was a bit surprised ... though not really.

  The sound of metal hitting the floor echoed in the small space. Franklin jerked his attention to the woman. She sat there with tears running down her cheeks, her hand empty, the rod lying next to her leg. As he watched, she opened her eyes. They were clear, no longer lost in the vision. When Web moved to enter, she held up her hand, stopping him.

  "No, Web, I have to continue."

  Web stayed out, but Franklin could tell he wasn't happy. Nature turned to face the curtain. She made her way to the driver's seat. She disappeared from view. Both men moved so they could keep an eye on her. She was behind the steering wheel when they saw her again. The window was rolled up and the lock engaged. Franklin devised that she must have done this to keep them from interfering with her reading.

  She grasped the wheel. Again, her eyes became unfocused. Her head leaned forward then slammed back against the soft head support. Web started toward the back of the van but Franklin grabbed him. The sheriff whirled on him, trying to shake him off. The detective saw the concern, the fear, and the love in his expression.

  "We need to let her finish. She wanted to, remember?"

  "She needs to stop. She might hurt herself. She hasn't had enough time between sessions.” Web struggled to get the detectives hands off his arms. “Too much happened in there. She might slip away like Patricia did. I have to make her stop. I have to."

  "I said let her finish.” The words were hard, like his hold on the arms. The detective's expression was the same. He knew this man loved the woman inside the van, but he was not about to let that love interfere with his case. A killer was loose and he wanted him stopped. He needed the information only Nature could obtain.

  Web ignored the man restraining him. Subconsciously, he understood what Franklin was doing. But, this was Nature. He wasn't going to lose her, not after finally allowing himself to love again. He had to save her; he had to protect her. There had to be another way to find the killer, there had to be.

  Franklin sympathized with Web. He knew the older man was not thinking right now. He knew emotions drove him to react as he was. However, he was not about to let a lovesick sheriff from Timbuktu, Montana ruin everything just because of a woman. This case was far too important to him.

  Web thrashed his upper body back and forth, trying to dislodge the hands holding him. The younger man held on. In the blink of an eye, he found himself flat on the ground, his arm forced up his back. He felt cold steel clasp around his wrist. The other wrist followed suit. He was now handcuffed like a criminal. He flung his feet up, trying to kick Franklin off.

  "If you don't stop, I'll handcuff your legs also.” To back up his threat, he pulled out another set and showed them to Web. He quieted down.

  The older man had never felt so embarrassed in all his life. To be subdued so easily was a huge blow to his pride. How could he be any good to Nature now? How was he supposed to protect her if he could not even fight off this punk? The more he thought about it, the madder he became. The madder he became, the more his brain connived. Who did this brat barely out of diapers think he was? He waited until Franklin had his full attention focused on what was going on inside before he moved.

  He rose to his feet and quietly inched his way toward the back of the van, keeping an eye on the other man. He made it all the way to the back before he bumped into the open door, causing it to slam shut. He was so focused on watching what was going on by the driver's door that he forgot to look where he was going.

  Franklin spun around and saw where he was. He snarled, “Goddamn it! I told you not to interfere."

  Web tried to get around the van. Before he could, Franklin was on him. He was thrown; face first, to the floor with Franklin on top of him. Unable to catch himself due to the handcuffs holding his arms behind his back, his breath left him in a whoosh. Pain shot through him when his nose bounced off the concrete. Blood poured from it. He lay there, trying to recover his breath, when he felt his legs lifted one at a time. He tried to resist, but his efforts were more attuned to the return of air to his lungs than to the actual struggle. The sound of metal grinding against metal echoed throughout the garage. He was effectively restrained
now.

  "I warned you, but you wouldn't listen. Now look at you."

  "When I get out of these, I'm going to kick the shit out of you,” Web managed to say after gaining control of his breathing.

  "Not likely, old man.” Franklin towered over Web. “I didn't even break into a sweat. You were so focused on getting to your lady that you forgot how to defend yourself. You forgot what was important here."

  "Shut the fuck up you mealy-mouthed weasel."

  Franklin ignored the comment. He returned to the driver's window to check on Nature. She wasn't there. The seat was empty. Making his way toward the back, he saw Nature crouched next to Web. She was wiping the blood off his face.

  "What did you do?"

  "He tried to prevent you from completing your reading. I had to stop him."

  "With handcuffs?"

  "To keep him from interfering, yes."

  Nature stood up. Her weary eyes flashed with anger. Everything in her stance said she was pissed. “Detective, if you ever want me to tell you what I saw, I would advise you to release Web ... now."

  Franklin glared back. “And if you ever want me to release him, I'd advise you to tell me what you know. If you don't, I'll lock you both up until you do."

  Nature crossed her arms in front of her and clamped her mouth shut in defiance. She leaned back, supporting her weight on one leg. A foot tapped with impatience. Normally she was reserved and quiet. This time, she was ready to go the distance with this, as she heard Web call him ... mealy-mouthed weasel.

  Sensing her determination, Franklin rolled his eyes skyward. “Why do you have to be so difficult? All I want to do is solve this case. All I want to do is prevent other girls from falling victim to that sick bastard."

  Nature remained silent, not moving, watching him with steely eyes.

  "Oh all right, I'll let him go. Will that satisfy you?"

  She cocked an eyebrow, waiting for him to do so.

  Franklin squatted down and released the cuffs. He stepped away from the now loosened man. “Happy?” he said to Nature. Looking at Web, he added, “Look man. I'm sorry. I just want this bastard caught before he kills again, that's all."

  Web sat up, rubbing his wrists. He rose slowly to his feet. Before anything else was said, he closed the gap dividing the two men and slammed his fist into the detectives jaw, causing the younger man to spin around 360 degrees before dropping to the ground.

  "I told you I'd kick the shit out of you when I got free. Pretty fast for an old man, huh."

  Franklin sat up on an elbow, rubbing his jaw. He stayed down due to the man towering over him, fists held ready to deliver another blow.

  Nature walked up to Web and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let's go get something to eat. I'm starved.” She glanced at Franklin, “Join us when you can Detective, we'll be at the diner I saw down the street."

  "You really shouldn't leave. I can have you arrested.” The man flinched when Web moved to hit him again.

  "You won't do that. You need what I have.” She tapped her head. “We'll see you there."

  She hooked her arm through Webs and guided him to the exit. He kept looking back at the detective who remained on the ground. After they were outside, away from Franklin's line of sight, he flipped his hand back and forth. It hurt like hell.

  "Awww, poor baby. Let me kiss it and make it all better."

  He stopped and brought his hand up for her. She smiled and kissed it in several places, as promised. He lowered it and, without hesitation, pulled her against him, touching his lips to hers.. He kiss was full of passion. They continued to the camper, his arm over her shoulder, her arm around his waist. He no longer cared who saw them. It felt good to be in love again.

  * * * *

  The man drove all night. He was exhausted. In just over eight hours, he had made it past Nashville. No cops with their flashing lights glared behind him. In fact, the cops paid no attention to him at all. It was as if he did not exist. He liked it that way.

  The pink rays of sunrise flowed across the brightening sky, chasing away the darkness of the night. He admired the beauty of it as he drove. The sound of a blaring horn brought him out of his reverie; he had almost fallen asleep behind the wheel. He straightened and waved at the driver of the other vehicle as it passed. He pulled the truck to the side of the road. Within minutes, the other car's rear lights were nothing but specks on the horizon.

  To leave the truck where it was for too long was to invite disaster. The owners may have already reported it stolen. The cops may already be on the lookout for it. As tired as he was, he knew he had to keep going. Pulling the gear into drive, he merged back onto the highway.

  After driving another fifteen minutes, he was almost to the point of finding a spot to park when one of the blue highway signs flew past. Several emblems showing which food places were off this exit caught his attention. He sighed with relief. Some strong black coffee would help revive him. He exited and followed the signs. When he parked, it took some effort to get his legs to answer.

  The coolness of air conditioning hit him when he entered the building. He shivered. Walking up to the counter, he smiled at the older woman standing there. He was saddened that one of the pretty teenagers weren't there; they were probably getting ready for school. Placing his order, he glanced around the sitting area.

  An elderly couple sat at one table, a man in a suit at another. Tucked in a corner was a woman who appeared to be in her twenties. She had long straight dirty blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her figure was thin, almost too thin, but her eyes were beautiful. He had to have her. Her attention was focused on the paper in her hand, she was not aware of him watching her.

  The crinkling of a bag being set on the counter drew his attention back. He smiled as he paid for the food. Moving to the side so others could order, he opened the drinking area of the lid and took a sip. As predicted, the contents were strong and hot. With a final glance at the woman, he left.

  He sat in the truck eating his breakfast and watched the door leading out He knew the woman had to leave sometime. He only hoped she would exit on this side of the building. As the last bite of his sandwich disappeared, she walked out and started toward an SUV parked near by. He washed down the food with a gulp of coffee and started the engine. She got in, took a second to reposition herself, started the engine and backed out. She was still oblivious to the man interested in her. Her mind was on the things she wanted to accomplish today, not on her surroundings.

  Clouds had moved in while he was inside the building. They grew dark and ominous. A bright flash of light caused him to close his eyes. He opened them when a loud clap of thunder rattled the truck's windows. It was going to rain. The man hoped it would wait.

  The woman turned right and went under the bridge for the highway above. The man kept a discrete distance between them. He did not want her to notice him yet. At a stop light, she again turned right. She was heading away from the small town, away from all the traffic and unwanted attention. She was heading home.

  For Miranda, the daily trip to the local fast food restaurant was a way to get out of the house and mingle with people. She lived alone with a dog and a cat to keep her company. Even though she went out each morning, she seldom spoke to anyone. She was severely shy. It was something she had never outgrown. Working from home was a way to pay the bills and avoid all the crowds.

  She was about a mile from home, braking for the stop sign at the corner, when her SUV lurched forward. She was shocked by its suddenness. She glanced into the rear view mirror. A truck with a camper shell on it was behind her. It was so close; she had a hard time seeing the hood in the mirror. The driver was getting out of the vehicle. He walked up to her, a look of embarrassment etched on his face. He tried to talk through the closed window. She couldn't hear him very well. She cracked the window open.

  "I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention. Are you okay?"

  She nodded her head yes. She was afraid to talk to him; he was so go
od looking. His dark eyes were mesmerizing. They held her gaze. She felt as if they were seeing into her soul. She turned away. It was her turn to be embarrassed.

  "I'm afraid I did a small amount of damage to you bumper. I'll pay for it. It was my fault after all."

  When she felt she could look at him again, she turned back. He smiled. She melted. He stepped back, waiting for her to get out and inspect the bumper. She hesitated, aware that the world was full of sickos who would love to get their hands on a woman like her. Taking another look at him: his innocent smile, his polite manners, and the fact that they were out in the open for others to see; she decided it was okay to get out.

  Several flashes blinked above. Thunder rolled across the area, seeming to answer the light. Miranda looked up at the increasingly darkening sky. She liked thunderstorms, but in the safety of her own home, not on the side of the road, exposed to the elements, next to a strange man He indicated for her to lead the way to the bumper, something she wasn't used to. She always followed, never led. She bowed her head and moved to the back of the SUV.

  A dent was on either side of the silver bumper about a third of the way in from the edges. She saw they were caused by the pieces sticking out of the truck's bumper to prevent it from becoming damaged. They worked. The trucks bumper was smooth.

  A flash, followed immediately by a loud clap of thunder that sounded like it was directly overhead, almost made her jump out of her skin. She let out a little squeal. The man was beside her. He did not touch her, for which she was grateful. She did not think she could handle it. A few fat drops of rain began to pelt them. They were soon joined by many more.

  "I think we should sit in you vehicle to exchange information, don't you?"

  Again, she could only nod her head. She cursed her shyness. If only she was like the rest of the family, she would give this guy her phone number. She would invite him to her place for lunch and hope things progressed from there. As it was, she remained silent.