by Willow Rose
Just like this one.
He knew her name, but he didn't want to say it out loud. He didn't like to think of them as humans, as people with names. These girls were his toys; they were his little pets, his fun in a dull and tedious world. He owned them and could do to them as he pleased.
"You better hang tight to your hiding spot, little girl, ‘cause I’m coming for you!" he exclaimed and walked toward the bathroom, where he thought he saw a foot sticking out behind the toilet bowl. Originally, there had been a door there, but since he had a girl down there who had hidden in the bathroom and blocked the door, he had removed it so it wouldn't happen again. It had been a lot of trouble getting her out of there.
"I’m coming, ready or not!"
The person approached the bathroom, then peeked inside. As he stared at what he had believed was the girl, he realized it was something else entirely. It was the chair from the living room, which she had dragged inside the bathroom, and the thing he thought was a foot sticking out was actually the front of the ventilation duct from above.
As the person stared at the open duct, he clenched his fists on both hands so hard he dug his nails into the skin. He rushed to his bag, then took the knife in his hands, and stormed for the door.
"So, that's how you wanna play, little girl, huh? Then let's play."
Barely had he made it out of the room and closed the door behind him before he heard the doorbell ring.
Chapter 57
Lyford Cay, Bahamas, October 2018
"What can I do for you, Detective…Ryder, was it?"
His maid had shown us into Sergei Sakislov's study. He was sitting by his giant desk, while thousands of books were towering on shelves behind him. From the ceiling above us hung a massive chandelier that I could only assume was made from real diamonds. I would be disappointed if it wasn't since everything else in this huge mansion seemed to be over the top, as my mother would put it.
I sat down in a leather chair. Emily grabbed the one next to me. Sergei Sakislov's eyes rested on my daughter for a little too long in my opinion.
"We're here regarding a missing girl."
I placed my phone on his desk and pushed it toward him with Coraline's picture on the display. I watched him look at her, then pretend like he didn't know her, but the small twitch around his right eye told me he did.
"Haven't seen her," he said and pushed the phone back, then gave Emily another look.
"We have reason to believe you know her," I said.
He smirked, his eyes not leaving Emily. I felt like punching him.
"Really? Well, I know a lot of…girls around here."
"I bet you do, Mr. Sakislov, but there's a little more to it than that," I said. "We have reason to believe that you were supposed to meet with her on the night she disappeared."
His eyes were now on me and the smirk was gone. "What on earth do you mean?"
"You picked her up from the clubhouse, didn't you?" I asked. "You were dating her, and then you decided to kill her, am I right?"
Mr. Sakislov stared at me while running a hand through his long gray—almost white—hair. He was dressed like someone who thought he was at least twenty years younger. The half-buttoned shirt showed a very hairy chest underneath, which he was obviously very proud of but would probably have made most women run away screaming if he hadn't had the wealth to make up for it. His skin was covered in some sort of glitter on top of the suntan.
"Why do you come here…in my own home…accusing me, Detective?" he asked.
I leaned forward. "Because I think you killed her, just like I think you killed Nancy Elkington and Ella Maria Chauncey and three other young girls before them."
Mr. Sakislov stared at me again, then laughed.
"This is joke, no?"
"It is no joke, Mr. Sakislov," Emily took over. She pulled out a file from her bag and put it on the table, then opened it.
"What I have here is the transcript of Ella Maria's phone calls in the days before she died. And, lo and behold, if you don't appear on that list of numbers several times just in the three days up until she died."
Mr. Sakislov leaned forward in his chair. "I have a son who dated her. It must have been him."
"He's lying."
The voice came from behind us. I turned and watched as Henry Sakislov entered the study, rushing toward us.
"Henry?" his dad said. "What are you doing here?"
"I’m here to tell the truth, Dad. And you should too."
Chapter 58
Lyford Cay, Bahamas, October 2018
"You must excuse my son; he doesn’t know…he's so heartbroken over losing his girlfriend, he doesn’t know what he's saying," Mr. Sakislov tried.
"Yes, I am heartbroken," Henry said and approached us. As he did, I could tell he had been crying.
"But not only because she's gone."
"Don't listen to him," Mr. Sakislov tried again. "He's not been well."
"I am very well, Daddy Dearest; don't you worry about that. It's him you shouldn't listen to," Henry continued. "He's the one who's lying."
"Enough!" Mr. Sakislov said, slamming his hand onto the desk. "Enough of all this nonsense."
Henry shook his head. "No, Dad. This is not one you can just yell or pay your way out of. Don't you think I know? Don't you think I know what you did to her?"
Henry was trying to hold back the tears, but they kept streaming across his face. He was pointing his finger at his dad.
"You slept with her. With my…my girlfriend. The one thing I had in my life that was mine. You took it from me; you took her from me."
Mr. Sakislov exhaled and rolled his eyes. "I don't have to listen to all this…" He rose to his feet, but his son rushed to him and pushed him back into his chair, then stood above him, a clenched fist in front of his face.
"You took her; you destroyed her. I wanted to marry her; you just wanted to…to play with her. The way you play with every girl you meet. It was the one girl you shouldn't have touched, the one that was mine, yet you couldn't keep your hands to yourself, could you? It doesn't matter who they are…if they’re black or white. You just see a girl and have to have her, don't you? Just like you have to own everything else. Like all this…this…worthless crap," he said and threw out his hands. Admit it, Dad. You slept with her. Don't you think I know that was why they hated us? Why she wasn't allowed to come here anymore? I found out when I read some of the texts she wrote to you, and I saw a picture she had sent of herself…naked. Yet I still stayed with her because I loved her. Something you have never been capable of. But I could never be you, and you were all she wanted."
Mr. Sakislov exhaled. "Okay. If that's what you want to hear, then yes. I slept with her. A few times. But she came to me, son. She wanted to be with me. I didn't go after her. She told me she wanted to do something crazy; she wanted to be wild. I guess what you could offer her wasn't exactly enough."
As the last word fell, Henry took a swing at his dad and punched him on the cheek, hard. I think it surprised him just as much as it did his dad because he let out a small whimper, looked at his hurting hand, then turned around and ran out of the room.
Mr. Sakislov felt his cheek, then gave Emily and me an angry look, his enormous nostrils flaring.
"Get out."
He rose to his feet, still holding a hand to his throbbing cheek, then yelled at us.
"Get out of my house. If I ever see your face in here again, it better be with a warrant!"
Chapter 59
Bahamas, October 2018
Coraline heard steps. At least she thought she did. She was standing in the wine cellar, staring at the skeleton, shaking, when she heard it again. This time closer. The steps seemed angry and determined.
Someone's coming.
Coraline gasped and looked around to find the exit. There was only one door at the end of the room, only one way in and one way out.
There is nowhere to go.
Quickly, Coraline threw another glance around th
e room and then—as she heard noises coming from the other side of the door—she rushed to one of the shelves and pulled out a dusty bottle of wine to use as a weapon.
She waited by the door as it opened, then as a face peeked inside, she swung it so hard, the person never knew what was coming. There was a thud as the bottle hit the person's forehead, but the bottle remained intact. The man fell to the floor, face first, and Coraline hurried out into the hallway, not even looking down at him.
She ran as fast as she could down the stony hallway until she reached a set of stairs and could see a closed door at the end of it. She took the steps two at a time as she rushed up toward the door, hoping and praying that it wasn't locked.
Please, dear God. Please, let it be open.
As she reached halfway up the stairs, she felt something grab her ankle, and a second later she was forcefully yanked down, slamming her face against each and every step.
Coraline screamed as she was pulled downward, then looked up toward the door, blood filling her eyes from a wound in her forehead, when she saw the door above slide open, and a figure stood hovering on top of the stairs, a figure looking much like an angel in white clothing in the light coming from behind.
"Help!" Coraline exclaimed, reaching out her hands toward this angel, while forcefully being pulled down.
But the angel wasn't there to help, she soon realized. Instead, she closed the door behind her and walked down the steps, balancing on her high heels, while the man behind Coraline pulled her down onto the floor in the hallway. As the pulling stopped and Coraline felt the cold tiles against her cheek, she heard voices above her, distant foggy voices speaking in an agitated manner.
"How did she get out? How could you let this happen?"
"She climbed through the ventilation duct."
"Well, get her back in there and finish it up. We need to get rid of her. The ground is burning under our feet."
"Yes, Mama," the man answered.
"Well, why are you just standing there? Get her out of here!"
"Yes, Mama," the man repeated and, soon after, Coraline felt a pull on her feet as she was dragged across the tiles. She wanted to scream, she wanted to yell at them for treating her like this, she wanted to fight, but her head was pounding so terribly, and she felt so extremely dizzy, she could hardly even…think. Coraline sent signals to her brain to tell her legs to kick, to kick the guy hard and run again, but her legs didn't obey. Instead, she watched through a curtain of blood as her traitorous body was dragged back toward the room, and through an opening in the stone wall. She was placed on the floor and, as the door in the wall closed behind her, she realized she wasn't alone. The man had stayed inside with her.
Chapter 60
Bahamas, May 1984
"Did you really think you'd get away with it? Did you really think I wouldn't find out? That my son wouldn't tell me?"
The White Lady was fuming as she stood in the kitchen, staring at Carla. The girl was sitting by the counter, cutting carrots when they entered. It was just her and the boy. Dylan stood in front of her, looking at the girl with a mischievous look.
Carla wiped her hands on her apron, then turned around to face The White Lady.
"Answer me, woman!" she yelled at Carla.
Carla didn't look up at her. She stood with her shoulders slumped, staring at her worn out shoes.
"I…I don't…"
"You tried to kill him, didn't you? You wanted him to drown in that bathtub."
Carla raised her fear-struck eyes, then shook her head violently.
"N-no."
"Don't lie to me now. He told me everything. You tried to drown him; then, when it didn't succeed, you told him never to tell on you."
Carla shook her head again. "N-n-o, ma'am, that's not…"
"Oh, I am done with your lies. I’m sick of them, to be honest," The White Lady hissed. "I have done so much for you. You were my favorite. I let you go into town. I risked my life by letting you do that. If you were found by an immigration officer, they would have come for me too; you do realize that, right? I’ve risked my own life for you. For you. I trusted you. And this is how you repay me? By trying to kill my son?"
"N-no, I didn't…I…"
Carla glanced quickly at the girl. The girl winced and shook her head. She clenched the knife between her fingers.
"Look at me when I am talking to you!" The White Lady yelled.
Carla did. She sighed.
"I'm sorry," she said.
The White Lady threw out her arms. "Oh, she's sorry now, is she? The woman tries to murder my son, and now she says she's sorry?"
Carla stared at her feet. "Yes, Ma'am. I am very sorry."
The girl stared at her, small gasps leaving her lips.
"Oh, I'll give you something to be sorry about," The White Lady said.
She then reached over and grabbed the knife out of the girl's hands. She grabbed Carla by the hair and forced her to her knees, holding her face toward the ceiling.
"Dylan, come here," she hissed, and the boy obeyed. He rushed to his mother and stood beside the kneeling Carla.
"You want to keep silent about things?" The White Lady said, strained. "Well, say your final word and then keep silent forever."
"No, Please…I…"
Dylan's hands were shaking as his mother handed him the knife. She then reached inside Carla's mouth, grabbed her tongue and pulled it out between her lips, forcefully. Carla whimpered and sobbed while the girl watched, holding her breath.
As the knife swung through the air and cut Carla's tongue off, the boy lifted his head and locked eyes with the girl. In that second, they shared a moment that would forever determine the course of their lives.
As the knife cut through the flesh and the thick veins, Carla sank to the floor, blood gushing out of her mouth.
"Leave her there," The White Lady said and walked to the door with a grunt.
After she had left, the two children sat on the cold floor, holding hands across Carla's bleeding body, watching her sputter and gargle as her lungs were slowly filled with her own blood.
Chapter 61
Nassau, Bahamas, October 2018
"How on earth did you find out about the phone numbers?" I asked and looked at Emily. We had left Lyford Cay and were driving toward downtown. "Did you hack again?"
Emily chuckled. "Nah. It was a lucky guess."
My eyes grew wide as we approached Nassau. "You bluffed? There were no transcripts?"
She shook her head. "Nope."
I had to laugh. "You've got some nerve, young lady. I am impressed."
"Can you believe the guy, though?" she asked and shivered. She looked at me. "So, you think he has Coraline?"
"I feel pretty confident that he does. If he hasn't killed her and gotten rid of her body yet, that is."
I drove up in front of the police station and stopped the car.
"Well, if he does have her, then we have no time to waste," she said and placed a hand on my shoulder.
We walked inside and didn't even stop when the secretary told us the commissioner was busy. We just walked straight in. Inside, we found Maycock at his desk, a woman sitting in his lap, kissing him.
I pushed Emily behind me.
"Dad, I’m nineteen," I heard her mumble while I cleared my throat. "Excuse me, Commissioner, we have an urgent matter to discuss."
The commissioner let go of the woman, then smiled widely at us. "Detective Ryder. It is good to see you."
He's not even embarrassed?
The commissioner was still smiling as we approached him. He winked at the woman, and she got down from his lap, wiped her lips, and rushed past us.
As she left and closed the door behind her, the commissioner clasped his hands.
"She needed to pick up the kids anyway. They're at my parents’ house."
I gave him a strange look. "She's…that was…your wife?"
The commissioner nodded and smiled widely. "Yes. Mrs. Maycock," he said proud
ly. "Now, what can I do for you, Detective?"
I exhaled and leaned forward. "We need a warrant and as many officers as you have on hand."
The commissioner lifted his eyebrows. "You have evidence?"
"We know where Coraline Stuart is being kept," I said.
"Let me guess, somewhere in Lyford Cay," the commissioner said with a deep sigh.
I nodded. "Yes, and we need to move fast. I don't know if she’s still alive but every moment that passes is one minute more he can use to kill her."
"And just who are we talking about?" he asked.
I swallowed, bracing myself for his reaction.
"Mr. Sakislov."
The commissioner's eyes grew wide. "Oh, no. Oh, no. No. No. No."
"Before you refuse, you must hear us out. I know he's an important guy around here. I know he owns the biggest piece of land in Lyford Cay. I know he puts a lot of money into your country. I know you’ve renamed an entire point for him, but I am telling you, it all adds up. He had a date with Coraline on the night she disappeared. He was the last person to see her alive. We have a witness who said she was supposed to meet up with him. He was also questioned in connection with the killing of Annie Turner in 2013 and, according to his son, he was sleeping with Ella Maria Chauncey behind the son's back."
"And Nancy Elkington?" the commissioner asked. "Did he see her too?"
I shook my head. "We don't know. We don't know if he was connected to Laurie Roberts either, but the files said she met someone. The same goes for Jill Carrigan, who went home with a guy who drove a Rolls Royce. We don't know if it is Sakislov, but he does own a Rolls Royce."
