by H K Christie
I nodded and continued down the driveway and back into my car. Down the road, out of sight from the house, my mind was flashing different images, different words. I pulled the car over and grabbed the file on Kinsey. I sifted through the papers until I hit the vehicle records. Jeff Kinsey had a Blue Ford Bronco registered in his name. I scanned the page for any other vehicles owned by Jeff Kinsey, but there weren't any. If he wasn't home, where was he and what was he driving? Was Rhett covering for his father? I did not like this. Not one bit.
What could I do? There wasn't much I could do without a warrant, and Martina was tied up with Heather's missing person's case. I picked up my phone and dialed Vincent. "I need a rush background check on Rhett Kinsey and any known family members for Jeff Kinsey, including DMV records, financial records, you name it, but please call me as soon as you get the information."
"You got it, boss."
"Thanks."
I rarely liked to be that short with Vincent, but I could feel it in my bones there was something there. I just didn't know what it was.
35
Martina
The next morning, I stepped through the front door and walked into my living room, where I saw my mother sitting on the sofa, watching Kaylie and Zoey work on glittery art projects. She glanced up at me with worry in her eyes. I said, "Hi, everyone."
"Hi, Mommy." Zoey climbed off the ground and came over and gave me a hug. I squeezed her back and thanked God that I still had my daughter and I wasn't the parent who was wondering where her baby was. Zoey looked up at me. "Did you find Heather?"
"Not yet, but we have everybody looking for her."
Zoey unwrapped her arms. "Who is everybody?"
"The police department, volunteers, and I'm going to help try to find her as well. I came by to pick up a few things before going back over to Kaylie's house to be with her parents."
Kaylie stood up and looked me in the eyes. "Are you going to find my sister?"
I walked over to her and wrapped my arms around her small body. "I will find Heather. Don't you worry."
I hoped to God that I did, and I hoped she was okay. I moved back and knelt down to meet her gaze. "Kaylie, I'm going to go over to your house to be with your parents. You'll stay here with Betty and Zoey, and I'll call you every hour to let you know how the search is going."
"You'll call every hour?" Kaylie asked.
"Sooner if we find her, okay?"
Kaylie nodded.
"Why don't the two of you finish your projects. They look beautiful. Kaylie, do you want to tell me about your picture?" I asked.
Kaylie pointed to the first image in her picture. "This is my sister, Heather, and this is me. Heather's favorite color is blue. That's why she has blue glitter on her dress. My favorite color is pink, so my glitter is pink. This is the sun shining in the park. Heather and I like to go to the park. And this is Zoey since she's my best friend."
"It's a beautiful picture, Kaylie. Thank you for sharing that."
"What about you, Zoey? What did you make?" I squinted my eyes to figure out what the drawing was. A gold sparkly bear?
"Okay, so it's gold glitter because we didn't have brown. If we had brown glitter, I would've used brown. It's a dog. Our dog."
"It's our pretend dog?"
"For now," she said with a grin.
"We haven't discussed getting a dog," I said. Zoey had always wanted a pet, but how could we possibly handle a dog on top of everything else?
"Grandma and I were talking about how fun it would be to have a puppy. Don't you think it would be fun?"
"Oh, I don't know. We'll have to talk about this later. I really need to get back over to Kaylie's house." I eyed my mother and hoped she understood I needed to rush out and to not bring up the dog again, at least not today.
My mother said, "How about we go over there later, and I can bring lunch and some snacks. Would that be okay?"
"That would be nice. I'll call you later, but it may be better that the kids aren't there."
"I'm eight years old now. I don't know if that qualifies me as a kid," Zoey proclaimed.
I looked down at her. "A young lady. Maybe it's not a place for the young ladies."
"Now, that's better," Zoey said.
I waved before going back into my bedroom and freshened up before grabbing my laptop and extra set of bullets. Not that I was expecting a firefight, but if I had to go out on foot to find Heather, I wanted to be armed and ready for anything. I shoved the box in my backpack along with the laptop and a sweatshirt. I thought it might be another long night, but I prayed it wouldn't be.
With my laptop propped open on the dining table, I scoured the dating websites, looking for a match for Harry. There were tons of boys named Harry, but none with the same photo that Heather sent to Sharon, Heather's best friend and roommate. I turned to Sharon. "And you're sure this is who she was meeting?"
"Heather told me exactly where she was going, what time, and even sent me the picture. She said she was trying to be safe and said you told her to always let someone know where she was going, with whom, and when she was to be back."
"When did you think something was wrong?"
"Well, don't tell her parents this," she said, lowering her voice. "She told me not to wait up. Heather wasn't one to sleep around, but sometimes if she really liked the guy, she would spend the night with them. It wasn't like she was doing it every night, but it was something that she did from time to time. So, when she didn't come home that night, I really wasn't that concerned. I called her the next morning to check up on her, but she didn't answer. I texted her five times with no response. At first I wondered if her cell phone battery died, but when noon rolled around, I had this feeling inside of me that something was off. She never stayed out until noon. That's when I called her parents."
At least Sharon had the sense to call Kaylie's parents. Some teenagers kept their friend's secret, afraid that they would get their friend in trouble, not thinking that they may actually be in a much worse position, but Heather's best friend knew better and called her parents.
After many searches with different metadata, including different geographical locations, age ranges, and preferences, Harry no longer existed on the dating website Heather used. Heaviness filled me. It was not a good sign that Heather planned to meet somebody that she met on a website who didn't exist less than twenty-four hours after she planned to see him. I had the worst feeling that Heather had met with foul play. A planned attack. We needed to find her before it was too late. My phone buzzed on the table, and I picked it up. "Hey, Hirsch, how's it going?"
"I just got back from the Kinsey Farm. Kinsey wasn't there, but his son, Rhett, was. Not a friendly or hospitable individual. When I asked for a tour of the farm, simply out of curiosity about the workings of a farm, he told me to leave unless I had a search warrant."
That was strange. "What do you think about that? Was he acting like a typical detective's son, or do you think he was hiding something?"
"He was definitely hiding something. I didn't like the look in his eyes. They were too dark—practically black. I don't know, I can't explain it. But then he also told me his dad wasn't home, but I saw Kinsey's truck in the garage. Something is not right there, Martina."
"Sounds like it."
My mind was racing. What was Kinsey hiding? And why did he need the other detectives to cover up for him? "Did you talk to the other detective, the retired one?"
"I visited him before I went out to the Kinsey Farm. Same story as detective Smart. He says he barely remembers anything and doesn't remember them being connected."
"Basically, nobody knows anything?"
"Yep. How are things going with Heather's case. Any sign of her?"
I moved the phone away from my mouth and whispered, "I'll be right back," to Sharon and headed toward the hallway where nobody could hear me. "It's not looking good, Hirsch. Heather was smart, and when she left to meet up with her date, that she met online, she sent her best fri
end his first name, a photo from the dating website, where she was meeting him, and when she would be back. But so far, the folks at the pizzeria where they were supposed to meet said they didn't see either of them, not Heather or Harry. I checked the dating website and if he was on there before, he's not there anymore."
"He's a predator," Hirsch commented.
"Without question. She's in trouble."
"Are the police doing an adequate job?" Hirsch asked.
"They are. They're currently knocking on the doors of every registered sex offender in the area. Lieutenant Orgeat is leading the search—he said to tell you hello."
"Lucky. Orgeat is good police. Heather's case is in excellent hands, but if you need any help, you let me know. Any hits on her car or cell phone?"
"There's a BOLO on the car and APB for Heather and Harry. They've requested cell phone records to see if there's been any pings, but the phone company warned it could take a day or two. I fear we don't have that much time."
"I hear you. Anything I can do to help?" Hirsch asked.
"I think we have it covered. Have you talked to Jordan? Is he doing all right?"
"I haven't talked to him today, but I'll check in after I get off the phone with you just to make sure that he's all right and still in hiding."
"Looks like my mother just arrived with Zoey and Kaylie. I should get going. I'm trying to keep it together for these folks, but I am beyond worried about Heather."
"Understandable. Like I said, let me know if there's anything I can do to help. You know I don't have a life, so my time is yours."
"I may take you up on it. Talk to you later." I tucked the phone into my back pocket and tried to think of another angle to find Heather. There was already a group of volunteers, and they had posted fliers. I didn't know if any of it would make a difference. Heather was likely taken in the parking lot of the pizzeria. Harry could have threatened her with a gun or a knife and driven off with her with nobody noticing. The photo we had may not even be of the actual man she was meeting. Actually, it was most likely not the guy she was meeting. Why was this world such a scary place? It was times like these I wished I could microchip Zoey.
36
Layla
Over the past week, the three of us had spent nearly all of our time planning our escape. We’d discussed the how and the when. We couldn't wait to leave the barn and the bad place.
When Willow was with the master, Raquel and I sat on the couch, talking about our plan for the next day. "I can't believe in less than twenty-four hours we're going to be free."
"Oh, I know. It feels like we've been here for an eternity, but by my count it's been just under four years. Four years in this hellhole." Raquel paused. "If I haven't said it before, thank you, Layla. I couldn't have survived this time without you and Willow."
I looked at her in amazement. "Thank you, Raquel. You're our unofficial leader. It's because of you we survived."
"You give me too much credit. I couldn't have made it here all by myself. Knowing that your lives were at stake, not just my own, is what kept me going. Speaking of Willow..."
"What is it?" I asked.
"Have you noticed that Willow's been extra tired?"
I took a moment to consider the question. "Now that you mention it, she has seemed a little drained. Like just yesterday during our Jane Fonda workout, she quit early and sat down while we finished. Do you think something is wrong with her? Like, oh my... Could she be pregnant?" The idea of having the master's child sent shivers down my spine.
"I don't know, but I definitely think something is wrong. We can ask her about it when she gets back from being with the master."
"Good idea. I hope she's back soon. I can't wait to leave this place and go back to real life." What if Willow's life included being free from the master but then forced to carry his child? Poor Willow. Even if she were pregnant, we'd escape the next day and help her with the child—whatever she decided. She wouldn't have to face it all alone. She would have Raquel and me by her side every step of the way.
"Me too," Raquel said.
"What will you do when we're free? Will you go to college? Do you think you'll still want to be an actress?"
"Honestly, no. I can't even believe I ever wanted to be an actress, or that I worried so much about what I looked like. Now, I just want to live. I want to swim in the ocean and go for a hike. I want to do all the things. I'm not sure if I'll go to college right away. I think traveling would be nice, at least for a little while. My mom and dad wanted to take us to Europe. We never made it, though."
"That sounds great." Raquel was lucky to have a family that cared about her and wanted to take her on vacation. I wondered how my little brothers were doing and if they remembered me.
"How about you, Layla, what do you want to do when we're finally free?"
"I'm with you. I can't imagine pursuing acting now. I think I'd like to do something to help people. Maybe be a counselor and work with people who have endured abuse or captivity. I'd like to do something where I could use this awful experience and turn it into something positive. I want to do something important with my life. I want to impact the world or at least other people."
"I like that. I like that a lot," Raquel said.
We heard footsteps, and we scrambled back to our cots. We both sat cross-legged with smiles on our faces. The barn door creaked open. The master entered with Willow by his side. He was propping her up, acting as a crutch for her. He didn't even look at us when he entered. Something was wrong. He brought Willow over to her bed. Without looking at us, he said, "Willow is quite tired tonight. We'll need to let her rest. You girls take care of her, okay?" He didn't wait for a response; instead, he exited without another word.
Once the door shut, Raquel and I ran over to Willow. "Are you okay?"
Willow moaned.
Raquel put the back of her hand on Willow's forehead. "You're burning up."
"Look at the bruises," I whispered. Willow had bruises on her arms, her hands, and her neck. What did he do to her?
Raquel said, "I'll get you some water, okay?"
Willow nodded slightly.
I looked over at Raquel with horror in my eyes. She returned the same look. What was wrong with Willow?
It shocked me to hear footsteps returning. It was too late to pretend to be on our cots. The master reentered and for the first time, he actually looked human. With worry in his dark eyes, he said, "I think she might be sick. I think she has a fever. I brought her some ibuprofen. Raquel, come here with the water."
Raquel hurried back over. The master knelt down next to the bed and put pills near Willow's mouth. "Take these, Willow. They should make you feel better."
Once the pills were in her mouth, Raquel handed him the cup of water. He lifted her slightly, pouring the water into her mouth.
In any other place and time, it would have seemed like a loving gesture. He had sworn that he loved us. Maybe he did in his own sick, twisted monster-y way. Although, it seemed strange he could be capable of genuine emotion after what he'd done to us and the others.
He finished giving Willow the pills and stood back up. "I'll come back tomorrow morning and check on her. Try to get her to eat some fruit. Actually..." He hurried back to the cupboards and unlocked the cabinet before pulling out a box of crackers. He relocked the cupboard and returned with a box of Wheat Thins in hand. "If she's up for it, give her these. It should help settle her stomach. Bananas are also good for that. Take care of her."
We nodded. Of course, we would take care of her.
The master left and once again, it was just the three of us.
I did not have to explain to Raquel or Willow that this was bad news. If the master worried about her health, it couldn't be good. What was wrong with her? I didn't think pregnancy caused fever and bruising. Was she really sick?
I said to Raquel, "We have to postpone our plans. We can't leave with her like this. She's in no shape to get out of here."
Willo
w mumbled, "No. You two go. I'll be okay."
Raquel and I shook our heads. "We're never going to leave you, Willow. Never."
Raquel placed one hand in mine and the other in Willow's. I placed my free hand in Willow's. I said, "Raquel is right. We're in this together. We will not leave you, ever. We all go, or none of us go."
37
Detective Hirsch
I stood in the doorway of Sarge's office. When he met my gaze, I said, "I heard you wanted to see me?"
He waved me over. "Yeah, come in and close the door behind you."
A closed-door conversation wasn't usually a good sign. I had many at the SFPD and never for any good reasons. I entered and shut the door behind me, but I didn't sit down. "What's this about?"
"I received a call that you've been talking to the other detectives and that you went out to Kinsey's farm."
"Yes," I said, waiting to hear what the problem was. Sarge and I had discussed that I needed to talk to the original detectives on the cold cases that we'd reopened. It appeared I had ruffled a few feathers. If they had nothing to hide, what was the problem? I hoped Sarge would not tell me to back off, because that would be a serious hindrance to the investigation.
"I also heard that you put in for a background check on Kinsey's son, as well as Kinsey's family members."
"Yes, as part of the investigation."
"The problem is that I got a call from Detective Smart. He said that Kinsey and he have been more than forthcoming with information about the original cases. He claimed that you going out to Kinsey's farm is bordering on harassment."
My heart raced and my cheeks felt flushed. "Are you kidding me? Harassment? Are they filing a complaint?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. This was outrageous. Simply visiting a retired sergeant's house did not constitute harassment.
