Once Taken

by Blake Pierce

  Even after hours in captivity, April still didn’t have any idea where she was. When Peterson had dragged her out of the car trunk, she’d glimpsed a small house with a large raised deck. But how long had she been in that trunk? How far away from home had they traveled?

  When he’d pulled her from the trunk, he’d ripped the duct tape gag off her mouth, and she’d still been too scared to scream. Then he’d carried her over his shoulder to the house, shoved her under the deck, slapped a barrier in place, and just left her there, still bound hand and foot. She had writhed and twisted in panic but the plastic restraints held tight.

  When she had been able to stop her body from shaking, she had looked around her prison. The base of the deck was enclosed with wooden lattice. He had removed one section to put her in this cage and the fastened it back in place. She thought that the lattice was made of fairly flimsy wood—but she didn’t dare try to kick it out. Not now, with Peterson walking right overhead.

  April squirmed around in the shallow space. She could sit up but she couldn’t stand. She leaned back against the house foundation. It was dim under the deck, but it was still daylight outside. From what she could see through the square holes of the lattice, the house seemed isolated. The land all around was barren except for a few scattered trees. She could see no sign of other houses and she had no idea how far away the nearest human being might be.

  The sound of his footsteps and laughter was becoming maddening.

  How could I have been so stupid? she wondered. But she knew that her stupidity had started earlier than today. She had let him set her up to be easily captured. When he’d come to her father’s front door, she’d recognized him right away. He’d been the driver that she and Brian had hitched a ride with a few days ago. Now she realized that he’d been targeting her all along.

  The split second she’d seen the gun in his hand, she’d tried to push the front door shut. But he moved too quickly, grabbing her wrist and forcing it painfully behind her back. He kept her arm tight and the gun pressed against her back as he walked along the front sidewalk. For a moment she’d frozen in her tracks. It was from fear, not resistance. The man had been startled and he’d staggered, planting one foot in the flowerbed.

  Will anyone see that footprint? April wondered. Does anybody even know I’m missing?

  Maybe she could have seized that moment and … done what? Attacked the man? Tried to take his gun away? It was a joke to imagine she could have overpowered him.

  She kept replaying the whole thing in her head. Peterson’s car had been backed up under the portico at the side of her father’s house. It was a newer, fancier car than the one he’d been driving when she and Brian had hitched with him. The trunk was already open when he walked April around to the back of it.

  She shuddered as she remembered what he’d done next. Still holding her at gunpoint, he had forced her to gag her own mouth with duct tape and bind her own wrists with plastic restraints. The indignity had made the horror even worse.

  She felt vaguely ashamed now.

  I shouldn’t have cooperated, she thought. I was a coward.

  But what would have happened if she’d refused to bind and gag herself? He probably would have killed right then and there. Her father, so absorbed with his work in his office, so lost in his own little world, might not even hear the gunshot. It would be left to poor Gabriela to find her body when she got home from buying groceries.

  She’d struggled in terror when he bound her ankles together in the trunk. After that she’d been completely helpless.

  Now her whole body hurt from the bumpy ride in the trunk and from struggling against the restraints. She was hungry, too, and tired. She fought down the screams and sobs she could feel rising in her throat. She knew that Peterson would kill her if she did anything to attract attention. And she mustn’t waste her energy. She had to stay alert, pay attention, not miss the slightest opportunity.

  Suddenly something dawned on her—something almost like hope. Her mother was coming back from her job today. She might even be back in Fredericksburg already. If so, she surely she knew that April was missing.

  He was laughing louder now, and the clomping of his feet sounded like he was dancing a jig. April couldn’t keep quiet a moment longer.

  “My mother’s going to find me!” she shouted. “And when she does she’ll kill you!”

  The sounds overhead stopped. All was silent for a moment. Then came another quiet chuckle.

  “Oh, she’ll come looking for you, all right,” he said. “I’m counting on it.”

  The sound of his footsteps changed. This time he was coming down the porch steps. She shivered deeply with fear. Then he pulled loose a piece of lattice and looked in through the opening. He climbed under the deck, leering at her, holding some kind of metal cylinder in his hand.

  What was it? A fire extinguisher? What on earth would he be doing with a fire extinguisher?

  Suddenly there was an eruption of hissing white flame. Now she knew what it was. It was a propane torch. Mom had mentioned the torch. But she hadn’t told April just what he had done to her with it.

  “Come here, pretty thing,” he said over the rumble of the flame.

  He crawled toward her, waving the flame in front of her. She backed more tightly against the house.

  “Come right here and I’ll melt those restraints right off of you,” he said.

  April couldn’t move a muscle. She was paralyzed with fear.

  “Scared of the flame?” he said. “So was your mother. Well. Just wait till you get good and hungry. Then maybe you’ll be braver. We’ll just have to see.”

  April pressed her mouth into her clenched fists to keep herself from screaming.

  Peterson switched off the torch and crawled out from under the deck, closing the opening behind him. She heard him walk back up the steps and across the deck. She heard him enter the house and shut the door.

  Should she scream now? No, it was too dangerous, and besides, she was sure that nobody would hear her.

  She realized that it was just starting to get dark. What would it be like after the light was gone? What would he do to her then? She wondered if it was possible for her to be frightened to death.

  Mom, she prayed silently. I beg you. You’re all I have in this world. Find me.

  Chapter 15

  Riley stared at the buzzing phone in her hand and knew that her worst fears had come true.

  “So she forgot to take the phone with her,” Ryan said weakly.

  “She didn’t forget. She never goes anywhere without it. She’s practically glued to the damn thing.”

  Ryan stared at her blankly. Riley could see that he was starting to grasp the awful truth of the situation. She pushed past him again and headed back downstairs. As she strode toward the front door, she glanced around the living room, looking for anything unusual or out of place. Nothing caught her eye.

  She rushed outside and walked around to the portico where her own car was parked. She saw that the garage behind the house was closed. No one could see that Ryan’s car was inside. No one would assume that he was at home today.

  A scenario was unfolding in Riley’s head. When Gabriela went out for groceries, someone watching the house might well have thought that April was in the house alone. And the truth was, April might as well been have been alone, with Ryan so isolated in his office at the back of the house and so focused on his work.

  So what might have happened if April had answered the door and found herself face to face with a stranger?

  What if the stranger had a gun?

  Riley retraced her steps back to toward the house. As she glanced back and forth, something new caught her eye. It was a boot print in the flowerbed, just off the edge of the sidewalk. It was too big to be from Ryan’s foot, much less Gabriela’s, and besides, it was extremely fresh.

  Someone had been thrown off balance, stumbled, and left the print in the dirt.

  Riley felt the air rush out of her lungs.
She couldn’t breathe for a moment. Whoever was here had possessed the sheer nerve to abduct a teenager in broad daylight. She knew who that someone must be.

  Ryan and Gabriela were now standing on the front steps.

  “Call 911,” she yelled at Ryan. “Tell them our daughter has been kidnapped.”

  Ryan couldn’t seem to speak. His face was glazed over with mute shock.

  “Do it!” Riley yelled.

  Startled into alertness, Ryan nodded in agreement. He hurried back into the house, followed by Gabriela.

  Riley took out her own cell phone, wondering who to call first. The BAU hotline was efficient for emergencies. Even so, Riley was wary about calling that number. By now the FBI was teeming with rumors about Riley’s obsessive belief that Peterson was still alive—a belief that no one else shared. What if she couldn’t get anyone to listen to her?

  Instead, she called Brent Meredith’s personal number. To her relief, he answered immediately.

  “Riley?” he said. “Is something going on?”

  “I need your help,” she cried. “My daughter has been kidnapped.”

  “April?” Meredith replied, sounding stunned. “Are you sure?”

  Riley moaned aloud. Meredith had always been her one true ally at the agency other than Bill. What would happen if he thought this was just a case of typical teen behavior?

  “I’m sure,” Riley said. “It’s Peterson, sir. He’s taken her. You’ve got to believe me.”

  A brief silence fell.

  “I believe you, Agent Paige,” Meredith finally said. “Where did this happen? When was she taken?”

  Riley suddenly felt disoriented, confused by her sheer panic.

  “It’s—I’m—” she stammered. “I’m where I used to live, in Fredericksburg, my ex-husband’s house. She was taken right here. Sometime this afternoon.”

  “Has anyone called 911?”

  “Ryan did just now.”

  The sound of Meredith’s voice was low and calming.

  “Good. Stay put. Don’t try to do anything just yet. I’ll put together all the information we’ve got on Peterson. I’ll get everything underway. I’ll send some agents to you right away. Sit tight.”

  “I’ll do that, sir,” Riley said, stifling a sob. “Thank you.”

  The phone call ended, and Riley went back in the house. Ryan was standing by the fireplace, numbly staring into space. Poor Gabriela was sitting on the couch sobbing helplessly.

  “Es mi culpa, es mi culpa,” Gabriela kept saying as she wept uncontrollably.

  “No it’s not, Gabriela,” Riley said. She sat down beside her and patted her hand. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

  Ryan turned his gaze bitterly on Riley.

  “This is your fault,” he said.

  Riley had to choke back her rage. She knew what she wanted to say.

  “Damn right, this is my fault. It’s my fault for thinking I could trust you with April. It’s my fault for thinking you gave a shit about her or anyone else.”

  Riley kept such thoughts to herself. Now was no time for recriminations, however justified. Too much was at state to indulge her anger. Now was the time for cool, clear-headed action.

  She paced the living room, wondering what Meredith was doing right now. Putting herself in his situation, she knew that one of the first things he’d want was a photo of Peterson. It would be necessary to get lots of copies of it out there. Police would need them to go door to door asking people if they had seen the man.

  But Peterson was, after all, a shadowy figure whose past was all but unknown. The only existing picture of him that Riley knew of was a mug shot taken when he’d been arrested for a minor offense years ago. He’d started a fight in a convenience store.

  She’d stored that photo in her own cell phone and still kept it there. It had actually helped Riley and Bill track Peterson down and get close on his trail once before. But would it be of any use now? Riley herself had barely been able to see him during her captivity, and she felt sure that he’d changed his appearance.

  At that moment, she heard police sirens approaching. She knew they would check the neighborhood to find out if anyone had seen the man at Ryan’s house, or had noticed his car. Although the houses weren’t close together, several others had a line of sight to Ryan’s front yard. There must be somebody out there who could help—an eyewitness who had actually seen him and could identify him.

  Who could that be? Riley asked herself silently.

  Suddenly, the answer came to her. She pulled April’s phone out of her pocket. The number was in there, Riley was sure of it. It ought to be easy to find.

  If only I could stop my hands from shaking, Riley thought.

  Chapter 16

  Riley’s hands were sweating when she knocked on the door. She hoped and prayed that she’d find out what she needed to know here.

  Six minutes earlier, she’d frantically gone through the phone numbers in April’s phone until she’d found the one she was looking for. It was Brian, the boy she’d caught smoking pot with April yesterday. She’d called him and told him she was coming right over. She hadn’t bothered to explain why.

  A tall, slender, well-kept woman answered the door. She looked like she went to a lot of trouble not to look old enough to have a teenage son.

  Riley showed the woman her badge.

  “I’m Agent Riley Paige,” she said.

  She wasn’t sure what to say next. It was truly a bizarre situation—an FBI agent investigating the disappearance of her own daughter.

  The woman saved Riley the trouble of explaining herself.

  “Come on in,” she said nervously. “I’m Carol, Brian’s mother. Brian told me you were coming.”

  Riley followed the woman into a spacious and elegant living room where Brian was already waiting. As Riley took a seat nearby, she observed how small the skinny boy looked, stranded in a huge overstuffed armchair. He hardly looked like the same stoned but cocky kid she had found smoking pot with April that day.

  He certainly did look scared. He undoubtedly thought that Riley had come here to report his pot smoking to his mother.

  He ought to be scared, Riley thought. But her own fear was so searing that she had no desire to put anyone else through unnecessary trauma.

  The boy’s mother stood behind the chair. She also looked frightened.

  “Is Brian in some kind of trouble?” she asked.

  For a moment, Riley again found herself at a loss for what to say. Of course she knew that Brian had nothing to do with April’s abduction. Even so, she had hitched that ride with him. And the truth was, Riley was angry about that. She sternly reminded herself to keep her feelings out of it. She took out her notepad.

  “Brian,” she said, looking him straight in the eye, “April has been kidnapped.”

  The boy’s eyes widened and he grew pale. Riley understood why. Just a second ago, the worst thing he could imagine was getting in trouble for smoking pot. Now his fear had ratcheted up to a new level.

  “Who is April?” Carol asked.

  “She—she’s my girlfriend,” the boy stammered nervously.

  “Oh,” Carol said, sounding mystified.

  “And she’s my daughter,” Riley added, knowing perfectly well how weird these words sounded under the circumstances.

  For a second, the woman looked almost as if she might faint. She walked unsteadily to another chair and sat down.

  “I’m so sorry,” she blurted out. “How terrible.”

  Riley, too, felt a terrible surge of emotion. It was anger and fear all mixed together. For a moment, she was afraid that she’d go to pieces right there and then. Why had she let herself get into this situation? Why hadn’t she waited until another agent was available to do this—someone whose nerves weren’t raw and exposed?

  She wished Bill were here. Or Lucy. Lucy would be exactly the kind of presence she needed right now—calm, intelligent, and compassionate. It really ought to be Lucy as
king these questions, not Riley.

  But there was nothing to be done about it now. And there was no time to lose. From her own experience, Riley could imagine all too well what April was going through. But what she didn’t know was how long April might have to live.

  Brian and his mother were both staring at her. After a moment Carol asked shakily, “But what does Brian … what does my son have to do with it?”

  Riley swallowed hard and managed to speak in a steady voice.

  “Brian, you and April hitched a ride to my house the other day. I think the man who drove you took April.”

  “Oh my God,” the boy said with a gasp.

  “I need for you to tell me everything you can about that day. What kind of car was it?”

  Brian paused, trying to remember.

  “It was a Ford, I think. Yeah, a Focus, kind of old, 2010 maybe.”

  “What color was it?”

  “Gray. It was kind of beat-up. There was a big dent in the passenger door.”

  Riley breathed a little easier as she jotted down the information. Whatever she might think of the boy, it was clear that he wanted to help. But the most important question was coming next. She took out her cell phone and brought up Peterson’s photo. She looked at it without showing it to him.

  “What did the man look like?” she asked.

  “He was a big guy. Not fat, but tall, and—wide, I guess.”

  Riley felt even more heartened. Although she hadn’t gotten a very good look at Peterson during her captivity, she remembered him as being an imposing presence. The mug shot said that he was over six feet tall.

  “That’s good,” Riley said. “Go on.”

  “He had kind of shaggy hair,” Brian said. “And he had stubble on his chin. But it didn’t look like he’d forgotten to shave. It was more like a fashion kind of thing.”

  Riley compared the boy’s description to the photo. In it Peterson was shorthaired and cleanly shaved. She’d remembered him without stubble. She’d been right in assuming that Peterson’s appearance had changed.