by Reid, Terri
“This one,” Ray said, stepping into the room with a gun pointed at Mary.
Chapter Fifty-five
Mary stood up and pushed Clarissa behind her, shielding her. “There is no way you are taking my child,” Mary yelled above the noise.
Ray smiled and shook his head. “No I have a much better idea,” he said. “I’ll take both of you.”
Mary moved into a defensive stance. “You’ll have to get through me first,” she said, praying that she would be strong enough to fight him.
He stepped forward and threw a punch, Mary deflected it, but he was too fast and slapped her on the side of her head with his gun. Dropping to her knees, Mary fought to remain conscious. “No,” she screamed, fighting to stand. “Stay away from her.”
“Too late,” Ray said, stepping back, Clarissa tucked against him, the gun at her neck. “Now you’re going to do exactly what I say or this little girl dies.”
Mary nodded, wiping the blood from the cut on her face onto the bed sheet. “Okay, whatever you say, just don’t hurt Clarissa.”
“You’re going to walk with us down the corridor,” he said. “With the fire alarm I started, they’re going to expect everyone to evacuate the building, so no one will stop us. You don’t talk to anyone; you just walk to my car parked right outside the door. Got it?”
Mary nodded and Ray motioned with his head for her to lead the way.
He was right; hospital staff was so busy helping non-ambulatory patients out of their rooms they didn’t even notice the three of them leaving. He pulled out of the parking lot just as the fire trucks came pulling in. “That will keep everyone busy for a little while,” he said, looking over at Mary and Clarissa huddled next to him in the front seat.
“Now, the next thing you’re going to do,” he said, motioning with the gun he still held in left hand. “Is to make yourself a little more agreeable.”
He motioned to the washcloth on the floor of the car in front of Mary. “Pick it up and put it on Clarissa’s face,” he said. “Hold it there until she passes out.”
“You don’t need Clarissa,” Mary said. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do. We can drop Clarissa off at the house. You don’t need her.”
“I need her alright,” he growled. “Especially now, there ain’t no way either of you are going to escape. Now, either you do it, or I do it.”
Mary picked up the washcloth and held it next to Clarissa’s face.
Burying her face into Mary’s arm, she turned her face slightly, so she didn’t inhale the full effect of the sweet smelling liquid. She closed her eyes and went limp, pretending she was asleep. Mary pulled the cloth from her face. “She’s out,” she said.
“Good, now put it on your face,” he said.
“Do you think I’d leave my daughter even if I had a chance to run?” she asked. “If you have Clarissa, you have me.”
“Lady, I think you’d crawl up inside me and turn me inside out to save your daughter,” he said. “And I’m not going to give you the chance. Besides, I like my women dizzy and helpless. It makes getting to know them much more interesting.”
Nausea swept through Mary at his words and she had to swallow to hold it back.
“Washcloth, now,” he commanded.
Mary brought the washcloth to her face and breathed it in, she tried not to respond, but the effects of her concussion and the chloroform were too much. In a matter of minutes, she was passed out next to Clarissa.
“Now, we’re going to have some real fun,” Ray said, turning down the road toward his house.
Chapter Fifty-six
Maggie was huddled in the window seat of the big window in her room, staring out into the darkening evening sky. Mike appeared in her room behind her and watched her for a few moments without speaking.
“It’s scary out there,” Mike finally said, his voice soft.
She nodded, not startled by him at all.
“How long have you known I was here?” he asked, moving up alongside her.
“I knew you’d come,” she said. “’Cause I was praying real hard.”
“It’s always a good thing to pray, Maggie,” he said. “But it’s also good to tell the truth. All the truth.”
“But I promised,” she said, looking up at him, worry evident on her face.
“And sometimes we make promises that we realize are not good ones to keep,” he said. “Promises that can hurt someone are not good promises. Promises that cover up lies are not good promises.”
She nodded. “So, I can break those kinds, right?”
“You need to break those kinds, to save your friends.”
“Clarissa wanted to find her dad,” she explained. “She wanted to talk to him, so she went to her old house.”
“Was she walking?”
Maggie shook her head. “I gave her my bike,” she said. “So she could get there faster.”
“Thank you, Maggie,” Mike said. “You did the right thing.”
“Find her, Mike,” Maggie said. “Please hurry and find her.”
Chapter Fifty-seven
Bradley was driving his cruiser slowly up and down the streets near their house, searching for his little girl. His stomach was tied up in knots. He thought she was fine. He thought she was just going through normal childhood adjustments. He never dreamed she was so unhappy she would run away. “Clarissa,” he called from the window.
Mike appeared in the seat next to him. “Maggie told me that Clarissa was going to her old house,” he said. “She wanted to see if she could find her dad.”
Without a word, Bradley turned on the sirens and sped toward Winter Drive. They parked at the curb and Bradley ran up the path to the house. He rapped sharply on the door. A woman quickly answered, looked at his uniform and asked, “Are you here about that little girl? The one on the pink bike with the white basket?”
He nodded. “Yes, I am,” he said. “Is she still here?”
“No, like I told them when I called it in,” she said. “It just seemed strange that a girl that young would be out all by herself and then when that car started following her. Well, it just made my blood run cold.”
“Car?” Bradley asked, “What car?”
“The car that was waiting down the street and took off as soon as she starting riding away,” she said. “I waited on the porch and watched them for a while. The man tried to coax her into his car, but she hightailed it out of there on her bike.”
“Do you have a description of the car or the man?” he asked.
“I have a photo,” she said. “Took it with my phone. Here take a look.”
Picking up his radio, he called the license plate number into the dispatcher, trying to keep his voice calm as sheer terror overwhelmed him. He looked at the photo again and was sure the man driving was Ray Giles.
Handing the woman back her phone, he thanked her. “You have probably saved this little girl’s life,” he said, his voice becoming hoarse with emotion. “Thank you so much.”
“I hope you find her,” she called after him.
He ran to the car threw it into gear.
“You need to call Mary,” Mike said, “or she’ll go crazy.”
He punched a button on his radio. “Hey, this is Alden, can you connect me to the Emergency Room?”
He waited a few moments for the connection to go through. “ER,” the woman’s voice said.
“Hey, Audrey, this is Chief Alden,” he said. “I need to speak with Mary. She’s in exam room three.”
“Hold on just a moment, Chief,” she said. “I’ll connect you to the Nurse’s Station back there.”
He sped down the road as the connection was made. “Hello, Chief Alden, I’m afraid your wife is no longer in her room,” the nurse said. “But it’s been crazy here. Someone pulled a fire alarm and we had to evacuate the building. We think it was a child because we found a pink bike abandoned just outside the emergency room doors.”
“Clarissa had Maggie’s pink bike,” Mike said.
“Did anyone see her leave?” Bradley asked.
“Well, now that you mention it,” she replied. “One of the nurses thought she saw Mary leave with a little girl and a man. But I told her that couldn’t be Mary.”
“Thank you,” Bradley said, disconnecting the call and feeling sick to his stomach. “I think Giles might have both of them.”
“The kidnapper?” Mike exclaimed.
“The woman at the house took a picture of a car following Clarissa,” Bradley said, his jaw tight. “It was Ray Giles. I know it.”
“So, are we heading to Giles’s house?” Mike asked.
“And if he’s hurt either of them…” Bradley didn’t finish his sentence, but Mike understood.
Chapter Fifty-eight
Clarissa concentrated on breathing evenly and playing like she was asleep when Ray lifted her from his car and carried her through the garage. She could feel light on her face when he walked into his house and could tell they were going downstairs. Then he just dumped her on a hard bed, with her backpack digging into her back, and strapped her down, so she couldn’t move. Waiting until she heard him walk away, she opened her eyes and looked around the room.
It looked like a classroom. There were chalkboards on against one wall and large maps of the world against another. A cursive alphabet border ran along the wall, right under the ceiling, and a bookcase filled with children’s books was in the corner. There were some old wooden student’s desks in a single row along one side of the room and a teacher’s desk sat at the very front with a long yardstick and some rope sitting on top.
The basement windows were covered with dark paper and the only way to get into the room was the door that led back upstairs.
She heard footsteps and closed her eyes, keeping her breath deep and even. The door banged open and she nearly jumped, but she clutched her hands into fists, stayed quiet and listened.
“Well, now, you’re going to be a lot more fun than my usual students,” he whispered to Mary. “It’s just too bad that we only have tonight to have you learn your lessons. By tomorrow you will be another bit of compost for my garden, buried under a pine tree.”
Clarissa squeezed her fists tighter to keep from crying.
“Now, let me tie you up nice and tight and then we’ll let the effects of the chloroform wear off a little. That way you can enjoy the fun as much as I will. Then after I finish with you, I’ll let you watch me teach your daughter a thing or two. I think you’ll get a kick out of that,” he laughed softly. “I know I will.”
Clarissa didn’t really understand what he meant, but she knew he was going to hurt Mary first. She concentrated on breathing softly, even when Ray came back to the bed she was on. He placed his hand on her cheek and stroked it, then slowly moved it down her arm and over to her waist. She shivered involuntarily and her breath caught in her throat.
He lifted his hand and was silent. Did he realize she wasn’t really asleep?
She tried to imagine she was in her bedroom, tucked inside her own bed. She imagined that Bradley was sleeping in the rocking chair next to her bed, a book in his lap. She felt her body relax and she was able to resume the slow rhythmic pace, breathing in and out.
“Your body must already enjoy my caresses,” Ray said. “Good. You’re going to be a fast learner.”
He swept his hand over her body one last time and then walked away, closing the door behind him. She waited until she heard him climb all of the stairs before she opened her eyes. Lifting her head, she could see Mary strapped onto the bed across the room. “Mary,” she whispered. “Mary, can you hear me?”
But there was no response. Mary was still unconscious, the white bandage on her head and the new bruising on her face reminding Clarissa just what Mary had been through that day.
She thought about Mike, but she figured she had messed up too much that even God was angry with her. A tear slipped down her cheek. How could she have been so dumb?
She closed her eyes for a moment, blinking back tears.
“You aren’t dumb and God isn’t mad at you,” Mike said.
Her eyes springing open, she smiled in relief. “Mike,” she whispered. “Help us.”
He shook his head. “I’m really sorry, sweetheart, but I can’t,” he said. “God isn’t mad, but He does follow the rules. You made choices you know were wrong and now you have to face the consequences. And you have to figure your own way out.”
“But it wasn’t Mary’s fault,” she said. “She didn’t do anything. She shouldn’t get hurt.”
“That’s the problem when people make bad choices,” he said. “Often innocent people get hurt too.”
“But, can’t you do anything?” she pleaded.
“I can tell you that you have the ability to rescue yourself and Mary,” he said, as he faded away. “And I know you can do it.”
She threw herself back on her backpack in frustration and got poked for her efforts. “Ouch,” she said, sitting back up and rolling to the side.
She looked down and saw the shard from Mary’s chest was poking out of the pocket. It was so sharp it had cut clean through the canvas backpack. Clarissa’s eyes widened and she worked on getting her hand up and through the strap on the bed to grab hold of the shard. Holding it carefully, she drew it back and forth across the heavy cotton strap until it started to fray. She kept cutting, back and forth, until finally it snapped apart.
Quickly sliding off her bed, Clarissa ran to Mary’s bed. “Mary,” she whispered, and then she paused for a second. “I’m here. I’m going to get you out.”
Mary had been strapped down with two belts of cotton, so Clarissa started to saw on the top one. Soon the top one started to fray and after a few more strokes, it too snapped apart. She moved down to the bottom of the bed, where the strap was over her legs. She dug deeply into the cotton, cutting her own hand with the effort, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t know how much time she had until Ray came back down.
Finally, the band broke. Clarissa stuffed the shard in her pocket and hurried to the top of the bed. “Mom. Mom,” she called. “You have to wake up.”
Mary moaned softly. “Clarissa?”
A moment of relief washed over Clarissa. “Please, Mom, you have to wake up before Ray comes back downstairs.”
Mary opened her eyes and struggled to sit up. “Did you do this?” she asked. “Did you get us loose?”
Nodding, Clarissa smiled up at Mary. “I just pretended I was asleep,” she said. “So I could help you.”
Mary wrapped her arms around her daughter and hugged her. “Now I have to figure out part two of the plan,” she muttered to herself.
Clarissa looked around the room. “Well, he has to come through that door to get us,” she said. “We could hide behind the door and then hit him with something.”
Mary looked around the room too, searching for a weapon. Finally she came upon an old wooden baseball bat sitting in the corner; she hurried over and picked it up. It was still in good shape and it was solid oak. “I think this would work,” she said.
They heard him stirring upstairs. Mary turned to her daughter and put her arm on her shoulder. “Clarissa, I need you to get back on your table, so when he opens the door, he thinks everything is still fine,” she said, searching her daughter’s eyes. “Can you do that? I know it’s going to be scary.”
“It’s fine, Mom,” she said, “I know you’ll take him out.”
Mary hugged her once again. “I love you,” she whispered.
With her lower lip trembling, Clarissa looked up into Mary’s face. “I love you too.”
They heard footsteps on the staircase. Clarissa flew across the room and slid onto the bed, sliding the strap over her body. Mary braced herself behind the door, holding the bat over her shoulder.
The door opened wide and Ray stepped into the room, looked at Clarissa and smiled, then he turned toward Mary’s bed.
Mary whipped the bat around with all of her might, but Ray saw it coming a
nd shifted his body. The bat glanced off his back, throwing him forward, but he was still standing. “You little bitch,” he yelled, charging at Mary.
She swung the bat again, this time connecting with his arm, but he still moved forward, tackling her and crushing her against the wall. The bat dropped from her hand as she fought him, punching and kicking trying to connect in any way she could. But he was stronger, deflecting many of her attempts and landing more of his own. Mary didn’t know how long she would be able to keep this up.
“Run, Clarissa, run,” she screamed, as she put all of her strength into an upper cut.
Clarissa slid off the table and saw Mary, crushed against the wall, being pummeled by the evil man. She slipped the shard out of her pocket, gripped it in her hand and ran forward, shoving the shard into his thigh.
Screaming, he whipped around. Clarissa jumped back and ran toward the table.
Mary bent down and found the bat at her feet.
“I’m going to kill you,” he yelled, stepping forward just as the baseball bat connected with the side of his head.
He turned back to Mary, dazed, but even angrier. “But I’m going to kill you first,” he screamed.
The click of the gun’s trigger echoed in the room. “I don’t think you’re going to be killing anyone anymore,” Bradley said, his gun aimed at Ray’s head. “But if you’d like to give me a reason to shoot. Please, be my guest.”
Ray backed away from Mary and raised his hands over his head. “You can get me for kidnapping and assault,” he said. “But you’ve got nothing else on me.”
“The murder of Nick Sears,” Bradley said.
“You got any evidence?” he asked with a smirk.
Clarissa ran around the room and stood next to Mary, wrapping her arms around her. “He buried the girls in his yard, Daddy,” she said. “He buried them under his trees. He said he was going to bury Mom and me there too.”
Ray’s angry glance at Clarissa confirmed the accuracy of her story.
“Well, I guess we do have you on something else on you. Good job Clarissa,” he said, sending a quick look of approval to his daughter. “Now I want you on the floor, Giles, spread eagle.”
