by Ray Backley
Thoughts swirled around his mind. The ventilation. The food and water. Books to pass the time. And the bucket and empty container were for . . . for what? waste?
Yes, things here had been organized with a lot of foresight. He glanced at the food and water, estimated the quantities, and made a few mental calculations. There was probably enough to last the three of them a couple of months.
Months? He ran to the black ventilation hole, took a breath of the musty air, then shouted out, “Help!” and listened for a reply. He heard nothing, so tried shouting once more. Shouting a third time would be a waste of effort. His shouting had re-energized his headache and it had been all for no good reason. Only God had any idea how far the hole went. For all Dan knew, this cell might have been a hundred yards underground.
He turned to Phoebe and Benjie. They were cowering, probably had been since he’d shouted into the hole. He told them to shush, that he promised he wouldn’t shout again.
“I don’t like it in here,” Phoebe said, and started crying, which set Benjie off.
He held them close once more and tried to dry their eyes. But the more he attended to them – particularly Phoebe – the more he saw Cath’s features looking back up at him. And seeing a vision of Cath like that made him wonder what her part was in all this weirdness – specifically why she wasn’t down here with them.
In contrast to her plain demeanor, Cath had always been odd beneath that veneer – although he’d strictly kept to using more pleasing descriptions such as kooky or quirky. But there was odd and then there was downright perverse. What the hell did she have to do with them being imprisoned down here? If the answer was nothing, then why wasn’t she here too?
His thoughts turned to her background – how he’d never met any of her relatives. Absolutely none. She’d told him her father was an only child who had lost contact with all relatives well before that fatal car crash, whereas all her mother’s relatives lived on the East coast and didn’t travel too well. In their first year together he’d more than once suggested flying over to meet them. But she’d said she didn’t want to go to that much trouble, that she never felt that close to them. And when Phoebe had come along . . . well, that meant flying really would have been too much trouble. But still, there had never even been any Christmas or Birthday cards passing back and forth. Cath had said her relatives weren’t the card-sending types. Dan hadn’t given it much thought at the time; after all, as a single guy he’d never been a great card-sender himself.
But now he definitely was starting to think about Cath – wondering just how well he really knew her. But even if it turned out that he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did, he was still struggling to come up with any kind of rational explanation for the madness he now found himself caught up in or how Cath might be connected with it. Did she really know someone who could do such a thing?
No. He was tying himself in knots with wild conspiracy theories. This was some robbery or kidnap gone horribly wrong. It had nothing to do with Cath. No way.
He pulled Phoebe and Benjie in tight, closed his eyes, and let a few tears of his own fall.
Chapter 8
At fifteen, Karen Fisher had never felt so good about herself. She was a grown woman and nobody was going to tell her otherwise. She had a home of sorts and a regular boyfriend. Yes, she knew Vinnie was seeing other women, but she was sure she could change him in time, because there was a good, sweet side to his nature that nobody else saw, that he kept only for her.
The staff at the group foster home were giving Karen and Layla hassle for staying away overnight too often, and wanted to know where they were. The girls’ answer was to simply not go back. They would mainly stay at Vinnie’s house but also would sofa surf around one or two of the other guy’s homes when necessary. The foster home people didn’t matter. This was freedom.
On Layla’s sixteenth birthday the guys threw a party for her. By then, she and Bullface were an item just like Karen and Vinnie were, except that Layla and Bullface weren’t getting along quite so well. Karen had occasionally noticed bruises on Layla’s face and arms, but apparently Bullface had gotten angry with her once or twice – jealous of Layla going with other guys. And that annoyed Karen because Bullface was quite openly making out with other women. But Karen didn’t see it as her place to interfere, so told Layla that she and Bullface had to work things out for themselves, but also that she would always be there for Layla and they would always be sisters. She didn’t mention that Vinnie was also still seeing other women, because that was something she was working on; she had to show him how much she loved him and had to persuade him that he didn’t need those other women.
A few hours into the party, Karen had drunk and smoked so much that she had to stop dancing and lay down on the sofa. She was conscious, but some distance beyond mellow. Vinnie had been talking with Franco and Johnny D for most of the evening, but now he came over to her and asked her if she was okay and whether she was enjoying herself.
She giggled and told him it was an awesome party. Vinnie laughed and said he was pleased she was enjoying herself. Then he picked her up, slung her over his shoulder to great cheers from all, and carried her into one of the bedrooms. It seemed such a cool, crazy thing to do, but then again it was a cool, crazy house.
They collapsed together onto the bed. Vinnie combed her hair back with his hand, brushed her cheek with his little finger, and said, “Do you love me, Karen? I mean, do you really love me?”
She smiled, but his expression became more serious, so her smile fell away and she said, “Of course I do, Vinnie. You know that.”
“How much do you love me, lollipop? How much?”
“Vinnie, you’re everything to me. You know that.”
Vinnie told her to sit on the edge of the bed. They sat together, his arm around her shoulders. “Do you love me enough to do as you’re told and not question me?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I, uh . . . I need you to do a favor for one of the guys. He’s nicer than he seems. Real gentle.”
“So . . . what do you want me to do?”
He jerked up his eyebrows. “I think you can work that out, lollipop. Just do what you do best.”
She thought for a moment, then said, “No, Vinnie. I can’t do that. You’re my boyfriend.”
Now Vinnie frowned and rolled his head left and right. “Have to say, I’m getting mixed messages here, lollipop. You say you love me, but then you won’t do as I ask.”
“But I do love you. You’re everything to me.”
“So why won’t you do what I’m asking?” He held her head in his hands, squeezing just a little more than was necessary. “You know that I love you, lollipop. But if you disobey me, if you disrespect me . . . well, you’re giving me all the wrong signals. I might think that you don’t mean what you say, that you don’t really love me.”
Karen could say nothing, he continued:
“You still want me to love you, don’t you?”
“Of course, but I’m not sure—”
He held a silencing finger up to her lips and spoke softly, his face a few inches from hers. “In that case, just do as I ask. I’ll give you twenty bucks and a new pair of shoes.” As she stared, motionless, he added, “You’ll always be my lollipop, but if I want to show you off once or twice, let other guys know what a great girl you are, let them understand why I’m so proud of you, what’s the harm? It’s only my way of showing how much I love you, that’s all. You do understand that, don’t you, lollipop?”
“When you say one of the guys, who do you mean?”
“That’s hardly the important thing here. It’s the principle that’s important: you showing me how much you love me. Aren’t we cool with that idea?”
“Well, I guess so.”
“Good. I’m proud of you, lollipop. You know you’ll always be my girl in my heart, don’t you?”
“I hope so, Vinnie.”
The guy turned out to be Johnny D, a
nd he wasn’t gentle at all. Immediately afterward, she told Vinnie she didn’t enjoy it, that Johnny D really hurt her. Vinnie told her not to worry, said that he would have a word, ask Johnny to take more care next time. She went to speak, wanting to tell him there would be no next time, but he put a finger against her lips again, then lifted a wad of bills from his pocket, stripped two out, and offered them and a broad smile to her.
Despite the money, she promised herself there would be no next time, but with a little persuasion from Vinnie and enough chemicals to dull her head, there was. Again, Karen said she didn’t like it, but the answer was the same: if she loved him, she would do as he asked. It wasn’t long before Franco and even Bullface took their turns too. Johnny D was a big guy, and had been by far the most painful physically, but she felt worse about going with Bullface; it was betraying Layla.
Soon after Bullface had finished and left, Vinnie returned to the room and embraced her.
“Thank you,” he said, kissing her gently.
Karen said nothing.
“There’s just one more thing you need to know,” he said, glaring at her.
“What’s that?”
“You sleep with who I ask you to, and nobody else, you got that?”
She didn’t want to agree, but managed a nod.
Then Vinnie pointed to the door. “Especially Jose, you understand?”
Another polite nod.
“And if I ever find out you’ve fallen in love with another man, I’ll kill him, okay?”
“That won’t happen.”
“Good.”
“You don’t like Jose, do you?”
“Not one bit. Why? Do you?”
She shook her head and said, “No way, he’s gross.” She said it because that was what Vinnie wanted to hear. But she wasn’t being deceitful, just kind.
Over the next few days, Karen heard Vinnie and Jose arguing quite a lot. It seemed to be mostly about money, but she was never completely sure.
And soon after that, Jose stopped coming to the house. She assumed Jose had been thrown out of the gang, but got a little concerned when she didn’t see him anywhere outside either, even at the bars and nightclubs they frequented. She asked Vinnie what had happened to him, and was simply told he’d gone away. By then, his whereabouts didn’t really matter; what mattered was that Vinnie had been promoted from deputy to leader. The other habits of the guys continued: gun handles were occasionally seen poking out of the waistlines of jeans; phone calls were made quoting large sums of money; and visitors came for packages. It was business as usual without Jose.
And then came the time she was offered – so it felt – to a complete stranger.
He was a lean but sinewy guy, no dirtier than the others, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was that Karen knew this was getting out of hand. She didn’t want to be that kind of girl; she hadn’t wanted to go with Johnny D, Franco or Bullface, but at least she’d known them and trusted them to some extent. This was more awkward. Faced with the guy’s stern looks, maybe a hint of a temper just waiting for a critical comment from her, she found it hard to say no.
“Could we speak alone?” she said to Vinnie.
Vinnie shrugged, hooked a thumb in the direction of the man she still didn’t even know the name of, and said, “You can tell me now, lollipop. Just say it. This guy won’t hurt you. He’s an old buddy and I trust him.”
Karen looked at the guy, trying to weigh him up, but came up against a brick wall. Then again, if Vinnie had told her to just say it . . .
“No disrespect to you, sir,” she said, “but I’d rather not sleep with you.”
The man didn’t even aim his reply at her, just showed Vinnie a cocked grin and said, “Have to say, Vinnie, sleeping was never part of the deal here.”
Vinnie took Karen aside, said that because he was seeing other women, it only seemed fair that she should see other men. He told her to relax, to enjoy the pleasure she was going to get. There seemed no way out. Again, Vinnie gave her cash – a couple of notes from the ten or so that the man had left in the living room of the house.
The tone of Karen’s lifestyle was getting darker. She was fifteen, knew this wasn’t good, but couldn’t think of a way out. Life with Vinnie and the gang had always felt like one long party, with good songs and bad, but now Karen had slowly slipped into a life that consisted entirely of songs that totally sucked.
The music completely stopped the evening she came out of Vinnie’s bedroom to find Layla’s body, cold and lifeless, vomit caked all over her face.
She screamed and Bullface woke up, cursing the house down. The other guys soon crowded around the body.
“What do we do?” Bullface said, his face red with anger more than regret.
“Same as we did with Jose?” Franco suggested.
Vinnie shot a glance at Karen. She froze, wanting to run but not having anywhere to run to.
Then Vinnie threw a slap at Franco’s head. “Fucking retard. Why not tell everyone?”
“Sorry.”
“Too late.” Vinnie grabbed Karen by the arm. “Now you know, you’re gonna have to come with us.”
Karen could say nothing to that, but soon she was being driven out with the rest of them to a deserted spot east of Fresno and was told to keep watch while they dug a hole and buried Layla’s body next to Jose’s. But that wasn’t the worst thing here; the most shameful aspect of this whole disaster wasn’t that she was mourning the death of Layla, but that all she could think about was how utterly alone she was.
Over the days following Layla’s death, Karen mulled over what the gang members really meant to her – and what Vinnie meant to her. But it became clear that simply to think straight she had to get away. But where could she go? The foster home was nothing more than a distant memory, but by the end of the week, she’d convinced herself that they might still listen to her and help.
So she told Vinnie she was going to return there.
“No, you’re not,” he said firmly.
“But I need to go back.”
“You need to do as I say.”
“Please, Vinnie. It’ll be fine. I just need some time away, that’s all, just a few days to clean myself up, then I’ll be back here with you.”
“That’s what you need? Well, this house is now your home, you can clean yourself up right here. And for the next two weeks you’re grounded.”
“You can’t ground me.”
“Just have.”
She stomped to the bedroom and started packing a few things into a bag.
He followed, grabbing her hands to stop her.
“You got another man?” he asked.
“Another man? Are you crazy? I’m just upset about Layla. I need to—”
His fist hit the side of her face. Not a slap; a punch. She tasted blood, felt it dribbling down her chin. He grabbed her by the throat.
“Don’t call me crazy, lollipop. I’m not crazy, I’m deadly serious. If I find out you have another man, I’ll track him down, I’ll shoot his knees, and I’ll bury him alive. You hear me?”
The wildly random threat brought Karen to her senses. Yes, she still had a few shreds of courage left, but she also had some brains, and knew she wouldn’t win this battle by force. She agreed to stay inside the house, but while Vincent was in his next drunken stupor she broke out and returned to the foster home.
It didn’t take long for the police to become involved, and soon after that Karen was taken away, cleaned up, and interviewed till her voice almost wore out.
Karen showed the police where the bodies had been buried, and very soon after that the gang members were arrested and charged. Vinnie was the headline act: charged with various drug, assault, and under-age sex misdemeanors as well as voluntary manslaughter.
But that wasn’t the end of Karen’s nightmare; she was asked to testify against the gang.
The cases took almost a year to reach court. By then Karen was sixteen, she’d had a long time to think about what
had been happening to her, and agreed to testify.
Bullface volunteered for prison floor mopping duties and then chose to swallow a lethal dose of cleaning fluid rather than face his day in court, but the other cases went ahead. Understandably, Vinnie’s case garnered the most press attention. At one stage during a heated court case, he shouted across the room that he was still in love with Karen, that she had to stop lying about what had happened, and that if she ever found another man, he would have that man tortured and buried alive.
Karen stayed in a safe house while Vinnie was in prison awaiting trial and during the court case. She should have felt safe, but there was always the possibility that Vinnie knew people on the outside who could make life very difficult for her. And due to that, she didn’t feel safe at all; she felt lonely, frightened, and vulnerable.
Chapter 9
By 11 a.m. – at least, according to his watch – Dan had asked Phoebe and Benjie whether they remembered how they’d ended up here. Neither of them could provide answers.
But Dan had worked a few things out. It was clear that this had been planned with all three of them in mind. The place had been designed as a tomb of some sort, with heating and ventilation, and enough clothes, food and water to last them weeks or even months. The only thing that stood out as different was the stash of books. Everything had been tailored specifically to the three of them – everything except the books. He now realized what had half-hit him earlier. These were all Cath’s books – either her favorites or ones she’d always said she wanted to read one day. But why? Why the books when there were no clothes for her. It made no sense.
Also, a few more memories of the previous night had now returned to his foggy mind. He remembered Cath acting strangely, telling him she didn’t want him to suffer, but that she didn’t have a choice. That she wouldn’t forget about him.
