by H K Christie
"Mommy, do you think we should get a new house too?"
It wasn't like I hadn't considered it over the last couple of years, but I knew part of me was trying to hold on to it—on to Jared. I couldn't even bring myself to remove Jared's things from our bedroom, let alone move to a whole new house. I wasn't ready for anything that drastic. As it was, I had just removed my wedding ring for the first time—ever. I didn't take it off because I was looking for a date. I wasn't, but I was tired of having to explain each time someone inquired about my husband that he had died two years before and that I was a single mother. "I like our house. Do you like our house?"
"I love it. Plus, Grandma is here. Now it's perfect."
I eyed my mother, whose eyes sparkled, and she grinned from ear to ear. Zoey had that effect on those around her. "Well, dinner is just about ready. Zoey, why don't you help me set the table?" my mother asked her.
"I would be delighted."
As they set the table, I showed Hirsch where he could put down his things and wash up if he liked. So far, I was okay with him being in my home and having dinner with us. We were friends, right? I mean, at this point, I didn't think there was another person I spent more time with. We shared enough meals during the workday that it felt normal. It then occurred to me; he may be my only friend. I'd been too busy in my adult life to make new friends. Hirsch was the first since Jared died.
He returned from the restroom and met me right outside the kitchen.
"Hey, I was thinking. We need to get down to Los Angeles A-S-A-P to interview Jordan Day. Is it possible to get down there in the next few days?" I asked him.
"I hope so. We have the meeting tomorrow with the ranger who found Jonathan Day's body. Hopefully that will give us some answers or at least a few leads. Even without details, I'm not sure I'm buying it was an accident."
"I'm not either."
"It would be nice to have something more than a hunch, though, don't you think?" Hirsch asked.
"I agree. Have you ever worked with the rangers from the state parks and recreation department before?"
"Nope. It'll be a first."
"Did he seem friendly like he'll allow us to work the investigation alongside them?"
"Probably. Sarge said he'd make a call over there to make sure we get everything we need. He figures since it’s related to the missing girls, they'll likely welcome us with open arms. There's one positive aspect about the press coverage on the case—the power of the press. We're likely to get first-rate service for a high-profile case."
"I hope so."
My mother's voice sang out, "Dinner is ready."
Hirsch and I entered my kitchen and sat down at the dining table. It was the first time Hirsch had joined us for dinner. It was nice to have people over. The last visitor we had was Rocco, my AA sponsor, whom my mother had insisted on making dinner for. Who knows, maybe when the case is over we can have a barbecue and invite Rocco, Hirsch, and...maybe some others who have helped with the case, like Vincent?
I popped a bite of the chicken piccata into my mouth and chewed. The tang of the lemon and capers were perfect. "Mom, this is fantastic. Thank you for making dinner."
"You're welcome."
"Yes, Betty. It's amazing. I think Martina is quite lucky that she has you here making dinner and helping with Zoey," Hirsch commented.
"That I am. I'm very thankful for you, Mom."
"Oh, please. That's what family is for. Do you have family nearby, detective?" my mother asked.
"I have a brother who lives in Colorado, but my parents are still in Marin County."
"How lovely. You know if you ever want to have a home-cooked meal, you have a standing invitation, of course, as long as it's okay with Martina. I make dinner every night except Tuesday."
"Tuesday is pizza night!" Zoey added.
"Thank you. It's appreciated."
"You two seem to be a great team. Who would've thought after the first time you and Martina met." Betty chuckled.
"You told your mother about how we first met?"
"About how I wanted to strangle you?" I asked.
"That's how I remember it as well."
We both laughed. "Speaking of. Not that we don't have our hands full at the moment, but do you have any idea whatever happened with Blake DeSoto?"
"Last I heard, he was still living in that house where Julie was killed." He stopped himself when he glanced over at Zoey. "Oh, sorry."
"I know all about people being killed. It’s okay to talk about it," Zoey said with far too much interest for my liking.
"The man he's referring to had someone kill his wife, but the police said it was someone else, and the case was closed. I want him to pay for his crimes."
Zoey said, "Well, maybe if you find the missing girls, you can go look into this Mr. So-So and you can get justice. That's what you do, you get justice," Zoey said with a serious expression.
I didn't correct Zoey's pronunciation of Blake DeSoto. It was better she didn't have his name in her head. "That's what we try to do, but you have a point."
I eyed detective Hirsch. "If we find the missing girls, maybe it'll give us some clout to look into the DeSoto case. I'm not happy with how it ended. Not at all."
"You got yourself a deal."
I smiled. I'd been meaning to bring up the DeSoto case to Hirsch. We had spent nearly every day together, but we were always focused on the case at hand, and going into the past seemed daunting, but Zoey had a good idea. Get one more big win, and that would give us the sway we needed to be granted a second look at the case without being questioned. The case was closed when it shouldn't have been. I knew Blake DeSoto either murdered his wife, Julie, whom he had abused for years, or hired someone to do it for him. Zoey had also been right about us getting justice—it was what we did, and Julie DeSoto did not get justice. Hirsch’s and my job wouldn't be done until we not only found the missing girls but got justice for Julie too.
14
Martina
We stood in the parking lot, staring out at Mount Diablo. I admired the hills covered in green and beige as we waited for Bill Forrester, the ranger in charge of Jonathan Day's death investigation. Soon the green hills would turn to a golden hue, with spots of green trees in the distance. It wasn't lush like Hawaii, but it was as if we'd been transported to a place outside the hustle and bustle of the Bay Area.
You never knew where the job would take you from day-to-day, which was why I always wore sensible shoes.
Considering it was the middle of the week, there weren't many hikers out. That meant fewer witnesses for Jonathan Day's last moments. Hirsch met me at the map of the area. "Not many people around."
"Nope. It's the perfect place to push somebody off a mountain."
"My thoughts exactly."
I turned my attention to the truck driving up into the lot. It was light green with the California Department of Parks and Recreation logo on the side door. Hirsch and I stood shoulder to shoulder, watching as the truck came to a stop into a parking stall, and a man exited one foot at a time, wearing dark green pants, a beige top with a silver star on his pocket, and a firearm on his hip. I waved, even though I was sure he would have figured out our identities considering we had a meeting, and we weren't dressed for a hike. His boots crunched on the ground as he approached us. He grinned. "Martina Monroe. Detective Hirsch." He shook both of our hands before continuing. "You two are famous these days. I saw the APB after we got the hiker's ID. Is this guy related to the missing girls' case?"
"We think so. We were at his house and his place of employment yesterday, hoping to question him about the missing girls, but before we could talk to him, he fell off your mountain," I said.
"That's quite a coincidence."
"I don't like coincidences," Hirsch commented.
"I don't believe in coincidences either."
We all nodded. The three of us. One civilian and two officers of the law, different branches, yet we all had the same purpose and perspective. Forrester said, "Fo
llow me and I'll show you where we found him. We can walk and talk."
In agreement, we continued down the trail. The sun was shining, making it feel warmer than it was. I should've brought a hat. I made a mental note to add that to my supply bag. "Did you find the body, or did somebody else find it and call it in?"
"Another hiker found him and called it in. I was the first to arrive before the ambulance and the medical examiner."
"Was he still alive when they found him?"
"The hiker said that she touched his neck to get a pulse but couldn't find any. By the time I got here, he was dead. The Medical Examiner thinks he broke his neck and died when he hit the ground."
"Do you get a lot of falls like that?" I asked.
Forrester stopped and faced us. "No."
"I heard our guy was an avid hiker," Hirsch commented.
"Then I'd be surprised if he fell."
We arrived at a section of the trail that was cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape. "Did anyone witness the fall?" Hirsch asked.
"No one saw the actual fall, but I got a few witness statements from other hikers. There weren't many out that day. As you can see, we don't get too many visitors during the week. But I got enough information to make me question the accidental nature of his fall."
I stood and stared at the ranger. "Why is that?"
"Well, I had two different groups of hikers say they saw Jonathan Day earlier in the morning with another hiker. When I arrived on the scene, there was nobody with him. I'd think if he had a friend with him, the friend wouldn't have left him alone. That or he was a really bad friend."
"Jonathan Day was seen earlier hiking with the buddy, but the buddy disappeared after he fell," I thought aloud.
"A fake buddy. Like maybe an associate who didn't want him telling anyone about their association," Hirsch commented.
Forrester nodded. "Crime scene techs came out and mapped out the trajectories, trying to determine if he fell or was pushed or helped along in some way. Preliminary analysis says it's inconclusive. They said it'll take a few days to determine if it was an accident or if somebody pushed him or tripped him, making him lose his balance."
"Did you get a description of the buddy?"
"It was a he. He wore a hat, sunglasses, beige hiking pants, and shirt."
Hirsch asked, "Was he black, white, Latino, or other?"
Forrester, who had thick dark hair, shiny sunglasses and an easy smile, said, "The only skin showing was his hands and the lower half of his face. He was white, and he was fit. One of the witnesses said they thought they saw dark hair underneath the hat."
There was something eerie about being at the place where somebody had died. I stared at the dirt and thought of how that was where Jonathan Day's life ended. Had he been silenced? Or was the cause not related to the missing girls at all? A lover scorned or simply an accident? If it was an accident, where was his buddy?
"Have you started interviewing any family or friends?" Hirsch asked.
"His brother is down in LA and the parents died some years back. We planned to give his workplace notification today and try to see if we can find any friends in the area who may know what could've happened to him and try to find this buddy of his."
Hirsch and I eyed one another. "We went to his workplace—yesterday. If you're okay with it, we can do the notification and reinterview some of his coworkers. We also have his laptop. The techs are working on it now, trying to pull contacts and other useful information. That is, if you're okay with sharing the investigation with us?"
"Happy to get the help. Our funding isn't vast here in the parks and recreation department. I can also give you his brother's address."
Hirsch and I exchanged glances. "It would be appreciated. We need to question him too."
"Since we're working on this together, can you let me know what's going on with the missing girls’ case and how my guy may be related?"
Hirsch nodded. "Jonathan Day was our top person of interest. All three of the missing girls were patients at the clinic where Jonathan Day worked, and we have statements from a few friends of the girls, saying that the girls met their agent, Jordan Starr, through someone they had met at the clinic. We think that agent is Jordan Day, who used to use the alias Jordan Starr."
Ranger Forrester stepped back and crossed his arms. "The timing between the press announcement about the missing girls and Mr. Day's death is far too coincidental to be an accident."
"That's our thinking as well, but we need more than a hunch," Hirsch said.
The three of us concurred. Somebody didn't want us talking to Jonathan Day, and Hirsch and I would figure out exactly who that somebody was. We needed to get down to talk to Jordan Day—yesterday.
15
Layla
He escorted me back to my cot and refastened the lock on the chains around my ankle. I stared down at the floor, not wanting to meet the gaze of Willow and Raquel. I now knew firsthand what they'd meant when he'd come for them. I hadn't broken, but I had taken Raquel's advice. I hadn't fought him and I hadn't cried. I wasn't sure how much longer I'd be able to keep it up. I could feel that my cracks were showing, and it was possible that at any moment I might shatter.
I thought my father was the worst creature I'd ever encounter, and I had foolishly thought that deep dark hatred I felt for him could never be paralleled by anyone else. Now I knew different. Master was a shell of a human, not a real person, like an alien from another planet. Human beings weren't designed to treat one another like that. So as far as I was concerned, Master was not of this world. "Lay down on your bed, Layla. You need your rest."
I complied with the request, which was really a command. I lay on the cot, keeping my eyes shut, breathing in and out, waiting for Master to leave.
I begged God, if he existed, to make him leave as soon as possible because I was finding it more difficult with each passing moment to contain the sob in my chest that was threatening to escape. I felt his hot breath as he reached my cheek, planting a kiss with his vile lips. "Sweet dreams, Layla." Footsteps moved away from my cot toward the entrance to the barn. The door creaked open and shut, followed by the clanking of him locking up the barn. And then footsteps moving away from the barn.
I counted silently to one hundred before I rolled onto my side and broke down, shaking and rocking as the sob escaped. I was beyond consolation. I'd been foolish to fall for Jon and Jordan and then him. I'd been so stupid to have thought I had landed my big break, trusting every word that poured out of Jordan's mouth. I barely knew him, so why had I trusted him so fast? I wept for a few more minutes before I heard Willow call out. "Layla."
I opened my eyes and propped myself up. "How do you do it? How are you still here? How are you still living?" I said as tears streamed down my face.
Willow stepped off her cot and stepped over to the middle of the barn a few feet from my bed. "We have each other, Layla."
The rattling of Raquel's chains alerted me to look over at her as she approached me as well. "Come here. It's okay. He won't come back for the rest of the night."
I slid off my cot and wiped the tears from my cheeks and walked over to them. The chains were longer than I had originally thought. I stood in front of Raquel and Willow and bowed my head as I cried. Willow touched my shoulder, and I flinched. "It's okay, Layla. We're here for you." Willow embraced me as I cried on her shoulder.
I moved back and glanced over at Raquel, who then embraced me as well. She retreated and said, "This whole situation sucks. He sucks. He's the worst. He's a demon. But you have to dry your eyes. The only way we will get through this is if we stick together and support each other. We're stronger than he is."
Raquel was stern and so sure of herself. I wondered if she'd always possessed this type of strength or had toughened up in captivity. "What do we do? Do we simply exist?" I asked.
"Well, we haven't figured out a plan yet, but we have some ideas. We're all pretty new to this. I've been here the longest, and then Willow
and now you. My initial thoughts are if we can gain his trust, we might be able to get a little freedom. Once we get a little, we still do what he says, until we get even more freedom to move around or even go outside. And then when he believes we'll never disobey, we can make a run for it. But I'm not talking about today or tomorrow or next week. I'm talking about the long game. It could take months, maybe even years, or at least until they find us. With the three of us, we can do this."
I looked into Willow's bright blue eyes, and she assured me. "We can do this. We can. We just have to be patient."
They were right. The only way we'd survive is if we stuck together. "The name of the game is patience. We obey until we've fully gained his trust, and then we'll get out of this. I truly believe this, Layla. It can work," Raquel said.
"I agree," Willow added.
I wiped my cheeks one last time, removing the last of the salty tears. "Okay, I'm in."
The three of us embraced and then sat on the floor and told stories about our lives. It was almost like what I imagined being a part of a sorority was like, except for the underlying darkness and the fact we weren't allowed to leave.
16
Detective Hirsch
My thoughts were in overdrive as I tried to put all the pieces of the investigation together. Three missing girls. One potential suspect dead and another down in Los Angeles. And why had nobody noticed the connection between the girls until now? Something inside of me stirred, indicating there was something out of place here. I was knocked out of my thoughts when I saw a smug-looking Vincent heading toward my desk. "You're looking confident, young man. Did you get some good info for me on the Jonathan Day investigation?"
Vincent nodded. "I have a list of contacts from Jonathan Day's computer. I'm still waiting on bank records and cell phone records, but I'll let you know as soon as we get them. I sent the list to your email."
