by Ray Backley
“Was that a window?”
“That or a ventilation grille. Either way, looks like the point of entry.”
Then they heard a voice, and their attention was drawn to something on the opposite side – something large and wooden jammed between a wall and a concrete pillar. As they walked over to it, they noticed a large panel of dark wood trapped between the feet of the chest and the wall. It was just askew enough to make out a partly covered hole in the concrete block wall. McPherson took a gulp of the stale air, tapped the wooden panel, and pointed his flashlight at the hole.
“Phoebe?” the hole said.
Both officers jolted nervously at the sharp but eerie voice, McPherson’s hand flew to his heart.
“Who’s there? That you, Phoebe?” The voice was distorted and dulled as it travelled through the concrete channel, around the wooded panel, and into the basement.
“Police,” McPherson said. “We’re here to get you out of there, Mr. Brewer.”
“Oh, thank God. Please hurry. Is Phoebe there?”
McPherson and Kowalski gave each other a nervous look.
“What do we say?” Kowalski mouthed silently.
A deep frown and a swift shake of the head was McPherson’s only reply to that question, but he said, “Let’s just get you out of there first, sir,” as he stepped over to the other side of the chest of drawers and started looking for the best handhold to lift it back onto its feet,
“Of course,” said the voice behind the panel.
The officers stood either side of the chest. It took quite a bit of grunting and straining, but a couple of minutes later the thing was back on its feet, and once there, it was relatively easy to push it to the side, to allow the wooden panel to be removed, revealing a well-constructed hole, the surrounding bricks painted white, but gray with cobwebs.
Dan told Benjie to go first, then crawled through and stood, stretching his neck and arms, trying to brush dust off his face and hands. He picked up Benjie and said, “You okay, buddy? It’s all good now. We’re out.”
Benjie nodded and Dan kissed him on the forehead. Then Dan addressed the officers. “Oh, thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Our pleasure,” McPherson said with no emotion, still staring at the hole.
“I was so frightened in there. I tried not to show it because of the kids, but that was the worst experience of my life by a long way. I’m guessing Phoebe called you. Where is she?” Before either officer could answer he added, “And where’s my wife?”
But neither officer could take their eyes off the hole in the wall in front of them. McPherson gently got on his knees and shined his flashlight further into the hole. He got up and motioned for Kowalski to take a look. A few seconds later Kowalski got to his feet with a look of shock on his face.
“I wouldn’t put my bulldog in there,” Kowalski muttered.
“Where are they?” Dan said.
Now McPherson managed to drag his gaze from the hole and looked at Dan. “Huh?”
“Where’s my daughter and where’s my wife?”
“Uh . . .” McPherson shifted uneasily from foot to foot, then threw a glance toward the steps. “I’m sorry, Mr. Brewer. Why don’t we all get out of this basement first, then I’ll explain.”
“Oh, I’m more than happy to get out of this place,” Dan said. “I know it’s my house, but if I never have to come down here again it’ll be too soon.” He was first to reach the steps, continuing to talk as he climbed them. “I only hope there’s a good explanation for this. As practical jokes go, it sucks. I want to know who did this and why, and I want them prosecuted.” As he reached the hallway he shouted out, “Phoebe? Are you there, Phoebe?”
“She isn’t in the house,” McPherson said once they were all up, motioning for Dan to go into the living room.
“You have her at the police station?”
“Could you wait in there with officer Kowalski, please? I need to report what’s happened back to the station. Then I’ll explain everything.”
Dan, Benjie, and Kowalski sat in silence while McPherson went out into the back yard, returning two minutes later.
“My daughter?” Dan said, his eyes wide and wild.
McPherson let out a long breath. “This isn’t very pleasant, and please don’t panic, but we believe she might have been kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped? You mean . . . so . . . someone drugged the three of us and then kidnapped Phoebe and . . .”
“We believe it was your wife who drugged you and put you down in that . . . whatever you call that place in your basement.”
Dan screwed his face up, as though he’d been forced to smell something unpleasant. “Cath? Cath, my wife? You’re kidding, right? You have to be.”
“It’s only what she told us,” McPherson said with a shrug of his shoulders. “We have no reason to believe she’s lying.”
Dan’s mouth fell open, his eyes glazed over.
“We’re sorry,” Kowalski said.
Both officers waited, saying nothing, letting Dan absorb the news.
And they needed a few moments of silence to come to terms with what they’d just witnessed.
Chapter 16
Dan didn’t react for quite some time to what the police officers had just told him; his mind was busy still spinning with the news that it was his own wife who had done this to him and their children. Eventually, after a few false starts, he said, “I don’t get it, I mean . . . why would she do a thing like that? I mean, just why? What the hell’s going on here? And where is she?”
“Your wife is staying at a temporary safe house near here.”
“A safe house? Why? And where?”
“We don’t know the location, sir.”
“Well, could you please ask someone?”
“You don’t understand. It’s a safe house. We’re not allowed to know where she is.”
“Jeez, I’m . . .” Dan shook his head. “I’m so confused. Are you even going to tell me what’s going on here? I mean—”
“Enough, Mr. Brewer. This is what’s going to happen. Load some clothes and belongings for yourself and your wife and children – as much as you can take – into your car. Approximately one hour from now, someone will call and tell you where your wife is. Go there and she’ll be able to explain everything to you. It’s best that way. Is that clear?”
It took a few seconds to sink in, but Dan nodded slowly three times. “What about my daughter? Are you looking for her?”
“We are. We most definitely are, sir. Now, I would suggest you start packing. We’ll wait here in case we’re needed.”
While Dan and Benjie went upstairs together, McPherson and Kowalski sat and waited.
McPherson gave his head a shake. “You’re in the force twenty years. You think you’ve seen it all. Then this. Jesus.”
“So that’s true?” Kowalski said. “It was his wife who drugged him and the kids and bricked them up in that dungeon?”
“Looks that way. We sure got one screwed-up bunny-boiler nut-job woman from hell on our case here.”
“One for your memoirs.”
McPherson laughed.
Ninety-five minutes later, Dan pulled his bright red Ford SUV onto the parking space reserved for room 6 of the Toledo Motel. He switched the engine off and stared at the door with the crooked “6” nailed to it.
“Is Mommy in there?” Benjie asked from the back seat.
“I think so.”
“Did she put us all in that nasty room?”
“Uh . . . well . . . yes, she did.”
“It wasn’t a very nice thing to do.”
“Not at all, buddy.”
“So why did she do it?”
“Oh, I guess she had her reasons.”
“What reasons?”
Dan pulled his stare away from the motel room door and turned around to face his son. “Your guess is as good as mine, buddy.” Then he muttered, “All I can say is, the reason better be a damn good one.”
A few selfish thoughts ran through Dan’s mind – thoughts of being duped, made a fool of, perhaps even tricked into marriage. They might have been selfish thoughts, but they were perfectly reasonable conclusions because something had definitely been going on behind his back. He was about to find out what that was, and he would tell Cath that nothing – but nothing – could excuse this kind of deception.
He got out of the car, let Benjie out, and thirty seconds later was knocking on the door.
It opened immediately, and Cath let out a gasp before slamming a hand over her open mouth. A moment later her arms were wrapped around Dan, squeezing his torso.
Dan found it hard to return the gesture; it seemed more appropriate to just let his arms hang down loose.
She let go, stepped back, and invited them both inside.
“You know,” Dan said, “if you wanted a divorce you could have just asked me.”
At that, she burst into tears. Dan did nothing, just watched her. That was hard; he fought against the urge to hold her close, to tell her it was all right, to kiss her and tell her he still loved her no matter what had happened. He resisted doing all that because something had clearly changed between them, and he wanted to hold back until he knew some truth. He jerked a finger toward the car. “Brought some stuff from the house.”
“Aren’t you . . . aren’t you going to bring it in?” Cath spluttered.
“Only if we stay here.”
“Don’t say that, Dan.”
He didn’t reply, just gave her a sideways stare.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t tell you what to say after . . . well, look, could you come inside just for now? I have so much to say to you.”
He waited, still staring at her, then said, “As understatements go, I’d say that’s a nuclear one.” He took a long look back at his car, then ushered Benjie in, stepped forward, and shut the door behind him.
Cath wiped her eyes and knelt down to hug Benjie.
“He needs to rest,” Dan said. “And while he’s resting, you can tell me what in God’s name is going on here.”
She nodded. “Of course. I’ll tell you everything. The whole truth.”
“Oh, you will. You will.”
It took a little under seven minutes for Cath to give Dan the crucial details of her real history: the father she never knew, the mother who had abandoned her, how she’d been taken into foster care, her years hanging out with the gang, the court case and her new life, how she’d lied to him and deceived him, and exactly why she’d done that, wrapping it up with the events of the past couple of days. There were no pauses except for when she had to gasp for breath, and there was no way Dan could have sneaked so much as a syllable between her words even if he’d had any idea what to say.
When she stopped, she had to get a drink of water to ease her sore throat. She came back to Dan, took a long gulp, and said, “So now you know.”
All Dan could come back with was, “I need, uh . . .”
Cath waited, but nothing else came.
“You need what? Tell me.”
“I, need, uh . . . I desperately need a shower.” Cath opened her mouth, but before she could speak he held a finger up and added, “And also I need to think. On my own.”
She nodded. “Hey, that’s fine, that’s fine, it’s okay. I’ll, uh, show you around the bathroom.”
“I can see the bathroom. It’s just a bathroom. I can work it out.”
“Of course. I’m sorry.”
Dan shut the bathroom door on her, and took a long, long time showering.
He came out, hair half-dry and ruffled, a towel that wasn’t quite large enough wrapped around his waist, and sat on the bed next to her, but not close to her. He said nothing, which forced her hand.
“Dan, I accept it’s horrible that I’ve deceived you all these years, and I know it’s confusing for you. When you were waiting at that door, you mentioned divorce. All I can say is that, well, if you want a divorce, I’ll understand, and I won’t argue, and I won’t hold it against you.”
Dan nodded and took a moment to dry inside his ear using the bedsheet and his index finger. “I know this is going to sound a little crass, and I’m sorry for that, but when I mentioned divorce I was only joking.”
“Well, I’m not.” Tears welled up in Cath’s eyes, being replaced by more as soon as she wiped them away. “Dan, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. Ever. In my whole life. Divorce is not what I want, please don’t think that, but I feel my life has been torn apart, and you must have suffered just as much. It’s only fair.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want a divorce, not as long as . . .”
“What, Dan? Just say it. Please.”
“I mean, whatever your name was or is, I don’t want a divorce as long as you’re still you.” He turned, looked her deeply in the eyes, and held her hand. “Do you understand what I mean? You changed your name, I understand why, and I’m cool with it. But if deep down you’re still the same person you were, we’ll be just fine.”
“I am, Dan. I am.”
“If you still really hate baseball with a passion, if you go into a trance listening to Led Zeppelin and Nirvana and REM, if you eat carrots raw because you find the texture on your teeth weird but exciting even though you don’t actually like the taste, if you know every Third Rock episode by heart but somehow don’t get Parks and Recreation . . . if all of that stuff isn’t fake and is the genuine you . . .”
“It is, Dan. I promise.”
He dropped a heavy sigh. “Well, I guess that means that . . . well, whatever your history is, you’re still the same woman I fell in love with.”
She said nothing, just gave his hand a little squeeze.
“I can’t say I feel happy about it all, but you had good reasons for doing what you did. I get that it must have been hard for you.”
Their eyes met. He moved close and put an arm around her, pulling her toward him, their torsos now gently pressing together.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome.”
They stared ahead, embraced in a silence that was a comfort to both of them.
Then Cath said, “What are you thinking?”
He wiped his damp hair back with his free hand, and said, “Just now I got three things on my mind. One, it’s funny, but . . . how can I put this? For some strange reason the big lies don’t seem to matter to me as much as the small ones; it turns out it’s the little things that make you who you are. And I’m hoping that doesn’t make me a shallow person. Two, we need to put the explanations and the making up on ice, get our act together, and find out what that bastard has done with Phoebe.”
“Absolutely. My mind’s still a bit of a mess, but I need my Phoebe back. I can’t rest until she’s safe.”
“I get that, I really do. But what can we do tonight?”
“We could . . . well, I could . . .” Cath squeezed her eyes shut and ran trembling fingers through her hair.
“Exactly. I feel the same. I want to do the same as you – just something. But we can’t. We both need sleep, then we might be able to come up with some sort of a plan. We’ll do whatever it takes, I promise. But first we both need some sleep.”
Cath shook her head. “No. I can’t sleep. Not like this.”
“You have to try.”
“I won’t be able to. I know it.”
“So, just lay with me.”
“Okay. I guess tomorrow might bring ideas.”
“It will. It has to.”
“Say, what was the other thing?”
“Other thing?”
“You said you had three things on your mind.”
Dan nodded. “I did. The third thing is that I made a major booboo. I should have brought some clothes in from the car.” He flicked the corner of the small, wet towel that was very nearly covering his crotch. “I feel somewhat underdressed to go outside.”
Cath almost laughed.
Chapter 17
Dan s
lept through the night on and off. Cath knew that; she heard every grunt and murmur of his sleep, felt his arm flop across her in his half-awake moments, and answered him with a white lie whenever he woke up and asked her if she was okay.
By early morning, still awake, an idea she’d had in the middle of the night simply wouldn’t shut up. Under normal circumstances she would have run it by Dan, but in this instance he might have tried to talk her out of it.
Were the police taking the kidnap of Phoebe seriously? Or, more likely, did they think Cath was just some deranged woman who had imprisoned her family and so deserved all the trouble that fate piled onto her? Either way, one of those cops had passed information about her new identity and address to Vinnie. And if one cop was actively trying to screw up her life and the rest weren’t even trying to find Vinnie and Phoebe, what was wrong with Cath taking action?
There was only one clear lead: as far as she knew, Vinnie still had Dan’s cell phone. She could call him, ask him directly what he wanted of her, or even plead with him to let Phoebe go. She tossed and turned in bed, one moment telling herself not to be so stupid and to leave it to the professionals, seconds later utterly certain that talking directly to Vinnie was the only way her mind would rest, the only way she would be able to sleep and eat and function as a thinking human being. 6 a.m. came and went, and her eyelids were heavy, but sleep still didn’t come. At 6:15 she told herself it was too late, that she would get no sleep so what was the point of trying. By 6:25 she’d convinced herself to close her eyes, stop thinking, and get the rest her body desperately needed.
As the bedside clock hit the half-hour mark, the temptation became too much. She lifted Dan’s arm from her belly, placed it down gently, slid out of the bed, and grabbed her cell phone. Seconds later she was in the bathroom, door shut, a towel across the floor gap to muffle the sound. She perched herself behind the shower curtain on the far side of the bath – the furthest distance from the door – and thought about it one last time.
The cops had been given Dan’s cell phone number quite a few hours ago, but she hadn’t heard anything back yet, so it was safe to assume they hadn’t traced its location and it was still in Vinnie’s possession. She was dizzy, petrified with worry, absolutely sure she wouldn’t be able to eat breakfast, but somehow, once she was faced with her cell phone – fully working despite the cracked screen – her senses were enlivened, and she knew she had to act.
