All His Pretty Girls

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All His Pretty Girls Page 22

by All His Pretty Girls (retail) (epub)


  The unpaved road leading to his house was bumpy, and occasionally they’d hit a rut so hard, the kid’s head would smack into the side of the door. When they finally came to a stop, he got out of the car and walked around, unlocking the boy’s door before pulling it open. Roughly, he gripped Isaac’s elbow and hauled him out, ignoring the kid’s pained yelp when his head hit the top of the door frame. Keeping a tight grip as Isaac stumbled beside him, he marched the boy up the steps and entered the code to get in.

  Inside, he re-engaged the lock, and guided Isaac to a small couch, pushing him into it.

  It was time to implement the next step.

  It was time for Alyssa to pay.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Wednesday, April 3, 6:30p.m.

  Alyssa needed air, and she turned away with the intention of stepping outside for a few minutes, but before she could, the doorbell rang, and she and Holly both jumped. Cord was here. Feeling more than a little numb, she went to let her partner in. Behind Cord were Liz and two officers; one she knew, but the other had only been on the force a few months and wasn’t someone she’d encountered before tonight.

  Cord gave her arm a reassuring squeeze as he walked into the house, followed by Liz who embraced her stiff form. As the others stepped inside, Alyssa watched as her partner wrapped a blushing Holly into a strong hug. Even though the seriousness of the situation weighed heavily in the room, her daughter had just been embraced by her not-so-secret secret ‘old-guy’ crush as she liked to say when she was being teased.

  Brock, who’d been standing in the space separating the kitchen from the living room, moved forward, arm extended for a handshake. Cord met him partway.

  ‘Brock.’ Cord inclined his head toward the two officers standing idly by the front door, the squawking of one of their radios grating loudly on everyone’s nerves. ‘These are Officers Finley and Alexander.’ Alyssa and Brock took turns stepping forward to shake their hands.

  ‘Thanks for coming,’ Brock said.

  ‘No problem.’ Cord looked at Alyssa and said, ‘You told me a little bit on the phone, but why don’t we all sit down so you can fill in some of the blanks.’

  Alyssa nodded and led the way to the couches so everyone could sit. Officer Finley pulled out a red notebook and a black pen. He flipped to a clean page, clicked the end of the pen, and wrote the date on the top.

  Suddenly the whole thing became real, and Alyssa felt her vision blur and her body go numb. This was all too familiar. She jumped back up, startling Holly who had settled down next to her. Her fingers clenched and unclenched as she bit her bottom lip; she needed to be doing something. Except for that one time, the time that had irrevocably changed the path of her life, she wasn’t used to being on this side of an investigation.

  Only this time was different because this time it was her son, not her brother.

  ‘Does anyone want something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Water? I have soda, if you prefer.’ She was rambling, she knew, but couldn’t stop.

  Officers Finley and Alexander declined, but Cord understood her need to move, to do something active, and he said, ‘I’d love some coffee – if you’ve got any handy.’

  She forced a laugh but shook her head, appreciating his attempt at humor. ‘Yeah, I’m sure I can cough up some java somewhere in this house.’ She looked at the other two officers. ‘You’re sure you don’t want anything?’

  They both declined, and she strode into the kitchen to get coffee for herself, Brock, and Cord. At the last minute, she grabbed a diet soda for Holly. Brock was filling Cord in when she walked back in and set everything down on the coffee table. All eyes locked on her as she reported what she knew, and more importantly, what she didn’t.

  For Holly and Brock, she tried to keep it together even as fear skittered along her spine.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Wednesday, April 3, 6:30p.m.

  Huddled into a corner of the threadbare couch, his arms bound in front of him, his feet tied at the ankles, Isaac watched the man wear a deeper path in his already-worn carpet. On the floor was a photo album just like one he’d seen in his mom’s room. It was open to a page showing a picture of two little kids. He couldn’t tell much from this distance, but he thought he could make out two bikes.

  Every once in a while, the crazy cop mumbled something about how she – his mom – had to pay. Pay for what? Afraid of hyperventilating, Isaac concentrated on taking even breaths and making himself as small as possible as he tried to curl into a tight ball. Aside from a headache and a sore throat, his skin was clammy in that way that usually preceded him getting the cold sweats, so he knew it wasn’t only fear making his body shake. It didn’t help that his heartbeat was so rapid it caused a tingling in his chest, and he was scared he might actually be having a heart attack. More than anything, he wished what was happening to him could be chalked up to nothing more than a feverish hallucination, that at any minute, his mom would walk in and pull him out of this nightmare.

  And he had no one to blame but himself for allowing himself to get into this situation to begin with. Seriously, he should’ve known right away something was wrong when the cop, if that’s what he really was – why would he have been driving an unmarked car while wearing a police uniform – talked him out of grabbing his phone. He replayed all the events leading up to this moment and easily picked out a dozen things he’d do differently. His dad always liked to say, ‘Hindsight is twenty/twenty.’ And every time he said it, Isaac rolled his eyes. He was now living the truth of the statement.

  Suddenly the man stopped pacing and swung around so fast, Isaac flinched as he tried to burrow deeper into the couch. And before he could react, the man grabbed hold of the rope binding his hands and yanked until he landed with a thud on the floor. Isaac felt the burn in his wrists and couldn’t stop from crying out. And when the man started dragging him toward the kitchen, he twisted and pulled as he tried to free himself. With a grunt, the man, keeping a grip on Isaac’s bound hands, kicked him in the kidney.

  He gasped, trying to catch his breath even as the man continued dragging him until they reached a door with a metal bar across it. He let Isaac drop as he wrestled with a key in the lock, jiggling it back and forth as he pushed and pulled on the door, trying to get it open. A minute later, howling in rage, with spittle flying from his mouth, he threw the key. The metallic clang as it hit the wall and landed in the sink sounded almost as scary as a bullet. Isaac was still trying to catch his breath as the man once more reached down and grabbed hold of his bound wrists, dragging him across a kitchen floor and down a hall to a windowless room where he kicked Isaac until he rolled out of the way, gasping for air. Before the man slammed the door closed, he screeched, ‘You don’t know anything about your mom. Everything she’s ever told you is a lie. And now she’ll pay!’

  In the dark room, Isaac tried breathing through his nose, afraid he was going to throw up. To make things worse, he wasn’t only terrified for his own life, but now he was scared for his mom, too. Because he knew she would stop at nothing to find him. And not just because she was a good detective, but because nobody messed with her kids – ever. There was mama bear protective, and then there was his mom’s version of mama bear protective.

  Still, he prayed she’d hurry up and find him. He even made a deal with God: when his mom rescued him, he’d never, ever raise another ruckus about cleaning his room or wearing dress clothes again. Heck, he’d throw a black-tie affair for her himself. When guilt inched its way in as he realized he was praying for his mom to walk into this guy’s trap, Isaac reminded himself his mom was an officer of the law, and she knew how to protect herself.

  Keeping his eyes trained on the door, he let himself daydream about his impending rescue. Mom and Cord would lead the cavalry, blowing the door off its hinges in a surprise attack. Wood from the exploding door would hit the man in the face, stunning him. Smoke from the flashbang would blind the guy, allowing Isaac the chance to knock him down while his mom came flying
in all kung-Fu, ninja style.

  Tears fell freely as he pictured himself wrapped safely in his mom’s arms, not caring that he was fourteen and yearning for his mother.

  * * *

  Unsure how long he’d been in the room, Isaac watched as the shadow of the man’s footsteps passed the door time and time again. With each pass, Isaac’s muscles seized in fear. And then when they stopped, and the door was shoved open, his entire body shook uncontrollably.

  In one of the man’s hands was a bowl, in the other a knife. ‘I’m going to untie your feet,’ he said as he entered the room, ‘and if you try anything at all, I’ll kill you. I’ll slit your throat and mail your head back to your mother. Do you understand me?’

  Isaac’s head nodded, but he didn’t know if he was agreeing or if it was a reaction from his body shaking so hard. Pobiv set the bowl on the floor and then sliced the rope at his feet, tingles spreading from Isaac’s toes up his legs as feeling returned.

  ‘Sit up,’ the man ordered, and Isaac struggled to obey, falling over several times before he was able to stay upright, using the wall to help. ‘Hold your hands up.’ Again, Isaac did as he was told.

  The man placed a bowl of chicken noodle soup in his trembling hands, eyes narrowing as it sloshed over the sides. Isaac risked a question, his voice cracking as he spoke. ‘My hands –’

  ‘If you want to eat, you’ll have to figure out a way to do it like that,’ the man interrupted and walked back out, this time leaving the door opened.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Wednesday, April 3, 7:30p.m.

  Cord and Officers Finley and Alexander were out canvassing the neighborhood – insisting Alyssa stay home when she tried to accompany them – and Liz, in an effort to make herself useful since her forensic artist skills weren’t needed at the moment, was preparing the dinner Alyssa had gotten out – though she could’ve told her it was going to go uneaten as the mere thought of food was enough to make her want to throw up.

  Brock and Holly were in the process of calling every single one of Isaac’s contacts while Alyssa was on the phone, arguing with Captain Hammond. ‘No, I can’t prove my son has been abducted…’ She closed her eyes, gripping the phone until her fingers were white, as she reminded herself that throwing the phone would result in nothing but a broken phone. ‘My son did not run away, Captain. He wouldn’t do that… Yes, I’m sure you’ve heard that before…’ Alyssa’s cheek accidentally hit the speaker button and Hammond’s voice filled the room.

  ‘It would be considered an abuse of the system if I allowed you to request an Amber Alert be issued if there is not significant cause to suggest your son has been abducted or is in serious danger of great bodily harm…’

  Between clenched teeth, Alyssa bit out, ‘I work in law enforcement; I deal with bad guys every single day of my life, and I’m sure I’ve pissed off my share of people. That alone is enough to suggest something has happened to my son. And can you think of one single teenager who would willingly run away without his phone?’ She was screaming at the end, and she didn’t care. Until she’d said it out loud, she hadn’t actually believed that her son going missing could have anything to do with her job, and her stomach twisted in on itself as fingers of fear crawled over her skin now that the thought was out there. Her mind conjured up images of first Callie McCormick’s battered body and then Timmy’s, and she had to bite her lip to keep herself from crying out.

  ‘I want to help you, Detective, I do. But you’ve got to give me more,’ the captain insisted. ‘We can’t even tell the public who or what to look for. Do you have a description of your suspect’s car, clothing, age, race, anything?’

  ‘Do you think I’d be arguing with you right now if I had any of that information?’ She shrugged Brock’s hands off her shoulders, turning away from the hurt look on his face. She couldn’t deal with that right now. Finally, accepting that she was not going to budge her captain on this, she said, ‘I’ll call the mayor then,’ and slammed her finger several times against the end call button, the next best thing to slamming a receiver down in his ear.

  When the doorbell rang a minute later, everyone froze, and then leaped into motion at once. Brock was the first one to the door, and when he opened it, Mabel stood in the entryway, tears in her eyes as she waited for her son to step aside and let her in. Immediately, Alyssa felt the guilt creep in as her mother-in-law reached up to hug her son. She hadn’t given the woman a second thought after learning Isaac wasn’t with her.

  Her issues with Mabel aside, Alyssa was glad she’d come because her mother-in-law loved her grandchildren, and if nothing else, she’d be a comfort to Holly. And Brock, she realized, when she saw her husband close his eyes and issue a slow, quiet exhale as he leaned his head on the top of his mother’s.

  In the kitchen, Liz busied herself putting the uneaten food in containers while Mabel made a fresh pot of coffee and grabbed a dust cloth and began cleaning every surface she could readily reach, every once in a while passing by her son or granddaughter and touching them lightly on the back or shoulder as if reassuring herself they were still there. A few times Alyssa even caught her hand hovering near her, but it always dropped back to her side before actually touching her.

  Again, a flush ran up Alyssa’s neck as she thought of how selfish she’d been not to include the other woman right away. She was on the verge of apologizing when Holly suddenly gasped. She swung around to see what had happened. Holly’s red, swollen eyes were wide as she gazed at the file scattered on the floor. The McCormick case. Alyssa had forgotten it was even on the table.

  ‘It’s okay, sweetie. I shouldn’t have had it out. I’ll clean it up,’ she said.

  But Holly was pointing at the image on the floor right next to her foot. ‘I know that man,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve seen him before.’

  Alyssa’s eyes followed her daughter’s finger, her stomach falling to her feet as her heart beat frantically inside her chest. She lifted the grainy picture of Hunter Jenkins off the floor. ‘This man,’ she said, holding it with a trembling hand in front of Holly’s face. ‘Are you sure, Holly? You need to think.’

  Her daughter’s eyes swung up to meet first her father’s, then her mother’s intense stares. ‘I’m positive, Mom. He’s the man I’ve seen at the Zeller place. He’s the one I thought had purchased the house.’

  Just like that, Alyssa’s world collapsed into a narrow tunnel as voices flew at her from every direction. Ignoring all of them, she fumbled for her phone as she dialed Captain Hammond back. As she waited for him to answer, she asked Liz to call Cord and get him back here right away.

  The second Guthrie Hammond offered a weary hello, Alyssa said, ‘I need that Amber Alert issued right now. I have significant reason to believe my son has been kidnapped and his life is in imminent danger.’ And then she told her captain about Hunter Jenkins being in her neighborhood, her eyes moving over Holly’s stiff form: young, blonde, athletic, heart-shaped face.

  Could he have been after her daughter instead?

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Friday, April 5

  It was Friday. He’d been here since Wednesday. Isaac only knew this because the man obsessively watched the news.

  Wednesday night, after he’d fed him the soup, the man had taken the bowl, retied his feet, and left without a word, locking the door behind him. When the hall light went out, the windowless room was thrown into complete darkness, and Isaac, using the wall to help, maneuvered himself into the furthest corner where he turned his face into the floor to muffle the sobs tearing through him.

  He stayed that way until Pobiv opened the door, and again, without uttering a word, unbound his feet and dragged him up and into the bathroom where he shoved Isaac’s sweats and boxer briefs to the floor. Isaac’s stomach clenched, threatening to empty its meager contents, when Pobiv roughly shoved him until his legs hit the toilet, and he lurched forward, his bound hands barely catching himself on the wall before he fell.

  ‘Piss or ho
ld it, I don’t really care, but I’ll tell you now, if you piss all over my floor, you’ll regret it.’

  How he did it, he didn’t know, but Isaac concentrated until he was able to go. And then he was ushered back to the room and rebound once again. He didn’t see or hear the man again until Thursday. He only knew the day and time because of the morning news crew as they greeted their audience.

  ‘I’m going to untie your hands and feet now, but I’ll remind you that I won’t hesitate to slice you open if you try anything. And I won’t make it quick. I’ll make you beg for days before I kill you.’

  Isaac swallowed the bile in his throat and nodded, rubbing his wrists where the ropes had cut in. He followed Pobiv to the kitchen where he was fed a thick mixture of dry oatmeal that he tried not to gag on. When he finished, he noticed the man staring at him, a glint in his eye.

  ‘They’ve issued an Amber Alert for you, did you know that?’

  Hope soared in Isaac’s chest. His mom was going to find him, he knew it. His eyes followed Pobiv’s to the television where his own image rested on the screen next to a grainy image of an old man. He was confused.

  Then Pobiv chuckled. ‘They’re looking for Hunter Jenkins, but he’s dead, so they won’t be finding him. And they won’t be finding that old man they think is Hunter Jenkins, either.’

  Confused by what the man had said and horrified at the thought that the police and his mother were searching for the wrong guy, Isaac couldn’t take his eyes off the television as his mom stood on the lawn in front of their house, speaking directly to him.

  ‘Isaac, baby, if you’re listening, be strong. We’re going to find you. I promise.’ Her eyes were glassy, and his chest tightened as he watched her. He leaned forward as his gaze bored into the screen, as if by doing so, he could telepathically communicate where he was being held.

 

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