His mom had been very protective of him, even when he became an adult and Jennifer often said that she was overly so. To him it was perfectly normal; he’d never known anything different. She had been a great mom and he felt truly loved every day of his life.
It wasn’t unusual amongst his school friends that his dad wasn’t around, but while other moms dated or were married to other men, his didn’t seem to have any interest in that side of life. She was an attractive woman and there were no shortage of offers, but she had never taken anyone up on them, as far as he was aware. His curiosity about his father had grown as he got older but whenever he tried to raise the subject with her she avoided his questions, until eventually she told him that his father was someone she’d met in a bar and had a one night stand with. That had hurt, knowing that he was the result of some wild love affair, but he soon stopped asking for any more information once he saw how much it hurt her when he did.
The last time he’d been to the house was for her funeral and it felt strange pulling up outside knowing that she wasn’t going to be there, sat at her favorite spot at the kitchen table with her ever present pot of tea at her elbow. Turning the engine off he sat in silence for a minute just looking at the house, gathering the strength to go inside. It wasn’t a big house, three bedrooms upstairs and a kitchen and living room downstairs, but it sat on a lot of land so no matter what window you looked out of, you had a view of the countryside. Taking a deep breath he got out of the truck, grabbed his bag from the trunk and walked up the steps to the wraparound porch.
Running his fingers along the top of the doorframe he found the key that she always left there for him and unlocked the door. The heating had been off for weeks and the cold stung his cheeks as he stepped inside. Closing the door behind him and dropping his bag, he kept his coat on as he went straight down to the basement. He switched the boiler on and hoped that the cold hadn’t damaged the pipes. Going back upstairs, he left his bag where it was and went through to the kitchen. It was exactly as it had been. Even the teapot was still in its place on the table. He opened a cupboard and found the teabags. He filled the pot with water and set it to boil.
The pipes were clicking as they warmed but it was still too cold to take off his coat. He grabbed his bag and took it upstairs to his old room. He always slept here when he visited and it hadn’t changed much since he left. He liked the flashback in time he got every time he walked in so had decided to keep it the way it was. This time was no different and he grinned to himself as he looked at the posters on the walls and the bookcase full of the books he’d loved to read. Going over to the shelf now he ran his finger along the spines, remembering all the fabulous stories he’d read and the way he used to imagine he was a part of them. He stopped when he came to a book which was bigger than all the others. Pulling it out he saw that it was his school yearbook from his last year at high school. Opening it he flicked through the pages, chuckling to himself at the old pictures. God I look young. He remembered how cocky he was, how he thought he was so grown up and knew so much. How wrong was I?
The old stove-top kettle started whistling then so tucking the book under his arm, he headed back downstairs.
***
Being back in his childhood home he slept well that night for the first time in a while, not waking until a shaft of light filtered through the gap in his curtains and danced across his eyelids. It took a lot of effort to get out of bed when all he wanted to do was lie there and pretend he was a teenager again, but after a few minutes he threw off the covers and opened the curtains. He was surprised to see that the sun was already high in the sky and it had been light for a while.
He’d been in such a hurry to leave the day before that he hadn’t thought to bring any food with him. He managed to find some dried pasta and a tin of tomatoes in the cupboard for dinner last night, but now jumped into the truck he headed into town. The one in town stocked just about everything you could imagine. It had been in the same family for years and he’d gone to school with the owner’s son, Ken, who spotted him as soon as he walked in.
“Mike!” Ken came out from the counter and took him in a bear hug. “How are you? I was so sorry I couldn’t be at your mom’s funeral, I was thinking of you, though.”
“Hi Ken. It’s okay, you were on vacation what were you supposed to do?”
“I know, but I really wish I could have been there.”
Mike waved it off. “I’m going to be staying in mom’s house for a few days, actually, so I’m here to stock up.”
“Have you decided what you’re going to do with the place?” Ken spoke as he walked round the store with him.
“No, to be honest the last few months have been a bit difficult so I haven’t given it much thought.” He knew he should tell him about Jennifer but he’d come here to get away from it all and he didn’t want to talk about it.
“Well I don’t suppose there’s any rush.”
Another customer walked in then and Ken left to deal with them. He rushed to throw a few things in his basket and take them to the till. He wanted to pay and leave before Ken had the chance to strike up another conversation; he really just wanted to be left alone. There were a couple of people beside him in the store now, so he was able to pay and leave after giving Ken a quick wave and promising to keep in touch.
The heating was working well when he got back to the house, with no sign of any cracked pipes and the warmth was welcome after the freezing temperatures outside. He was absolutely ravenous. Making himself bacon and eggs he ate sat at the kitchen table, washing it all down with a hot mug of coffee.
Feeling better with food in his stomach, he poured himself another coffee and took it through to the living room. It was the largest room in the house and had large windows on two sides which allowed the light to flood in. Under one of these windows was his mom’s writing desk, an old-fashioned roll top desk that she always kept locked. Going to the hallway he grabbed the bunch of keys, selected the smallest and inserted it into the lock, hearing a click as the mechanism turned. Putting the bunch to one side he gently pushed up the lid.
He’d often seen his mom sat here doing paperwork, or writing a letter, but he’d never been allowed to use the desk himself. Pulling out the chair in front of the desk he sat down. Although she was gone, it still felt as though he was about to do something wrong by prying through her private things and he was tempted to lock the desk up again but he needed to know if there was anything in there that he needed to deal with.
At the rear of the desk were six shelves with three drawers on either side. Reaching up he removed the uppermost drawer on the left hand side and placed it on the desk. It was filled with papers thrown in, in no particular order. Tipping the drawer over, he dumped the papers in a big pile in front of him and sat looking at them. This is what he’d come to do and it would certainly keep him occupied as he reached for the top of the pile. Time to get to work.
He’d left his phone in the kitchen and he was glad of the distraction when it rang a while later. He’d barely made a dent in the first pile, having to check each piece of paper one by one. Everything that he’d come across so far related to the household expenses and could go in the trash. He was surprised his mom had even kept any of it. Pushing the chair back he stood and went into the kitchen to see who was calling. The phone had stopped ringing so he picked it up and checked the screen. Sarah. He hadn’t told her he was leaving town because she was part of the reason he had gone and he certainly didn’t want to have another discussion with her about her insane conspiracy theories. Knowing that she would just ring and ring until she got hold of him he turned the phone off and put it in the kitchen drawer. Whatever she had to say could wait until he got back.
Twelve
The cold woke her, seeping through her clothes and chilling her to the bone. Confused, Jennifer opened her eyes seeing nothing but darkness as the memories of the accident flooded back. She remembered the crash, the car forcing her off the road and, with a gasp
, the hand with the needle. Panicked, she sat up and brought her hand to her neck. She felt the tender spot where the needle had gone in. It wasn’t a bad dream, it ad really happened. Pushing herself up into a sitting position she looked around the room, her eyes gradually adjusting to the darkness. She still couldn’t make out much, but she could see that it wasn’t like any other room she’d ever been in. For a start, the shape was all wrong. The walls weren’t straight and didn’t seem to be at right angles. Lifting her hand to the wall, her fingers touched dirt.
Where the hell am I? Wherever it was, she had no intention of staying. She could still feel the effect of the drugs in her system so she stood up carefully, one hand on the wall, until she was sure her legs would support her weight. Feeling her way she walked slowly, running her hand across the wall. There had to be a door!
She was so focused on the wall that she didn’t look down until her foot struck something hard.
“Watch it!”
The voice made her recoil and she stumbled, falling to the ground and landing on her back.
“Who ... who’s there?” she called out tentatively, getting up onto her knees slowly.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” A woman’s voice answered. “You just kicked me in the head.”
“I didn’t see you.”
“You’ll get used to the dark after a couple of days.”
Cautiously Jennifer crept forward on her knees, following the sound of the woman’s voice. Her eyes were already compensating for the lack of light and she could see a dark shape a few feet away. “How long have you been here?” She asked as she got closer.
“I don’t remember. A long time.” She paused. “What month is it?”
“February.”
“Then I’ve been here over three years now.” She sounded resigned.
Jennifer couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her lips when she finally got close enough to see who she was talking to. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I...”
“S’okay, I can’t imagine I look good.”
She didn’t. The woman in front of her was rail thin under her ripped top and her jogging pants looked several sizes too big. She was covered in bruises, some were clearly old and some looked very new as did the bloodied scrapes on her face and hands.
“Savannah.” The woman introduced herself.
“Jennifer.”
“Welcome to hell, Jennifer.”
“What is this place? Where are we? How did you get here? How...”
Savannah held her hand up. “One question at a time. But first there’s something you need to know right now.” She sighed. “When they come for you, and they will, do as they tell you.”
Jennifer opened her mouth to speak but Savannah cut her off. “Listen to me. You’re not the first cell mate I’ve had. I’ve lived this long because I do as I’m told, when I’m told to do it. Fighting it won’t get you anything except a meeting with your maker.”
It was all too much; her mind wouldn’t let her take it all in. She felt her body start to shake and the tears start to fall. Silently at first, but once the dam had been opened they came faster, turning into sobs.
“Stop it.” Savannah’s tone was harsh. “Crying won’t do you any good. If you want to survive here you have to toughen up, and fast.”
Jennifer tried to stop, but it was hard. She was completely overwhelmed and utterly terrified. “Who are they? And what do they want with us?” She managed to ask.
“What do most men want with women?” she confirmed Jennifer’s fears before continuing. “I’m not sure how many of us are here but I’ve seen other rooms like this and I’m sure they’re not empty. I’ve heard the screams too.” Her voice trailed off.
“Who-”
“Be quiet!” Savannah whispered as they both heard footsteps outside the door. “Remember what I told you.” She told her urgently before the door swung open revealing an unsmiling man stood in the doorway.
“You,” he pointed at Jennifer. “Come with me.”
Jennifer shook her head and pressed her back against the wall.
Letting out a heavy sigh the man closed the door behind him and walked over to her. “I said,” he grabbed her by the upper arm, “come with me.”
“Let me go!” She screamed, trying to wrench her arm free.
There was no warning before the pain exploded in her cheek and she was sent flying to the ground, landing face down in the dirt.
“You’ll learn to do as you’re told.” The man hissed at her as he reached down and grabbed her by the hair, dragging her to her feet. “If not, I’ll be happy to hit you again.”
The blood from a cut on her cheek where he’d struck her mixed with her tears as he opened the door and led her from the room by her hair.
“Please, no…”
Her eyes met Savannah’s as she stumbled from the room and she could see her tears mirrored in the other woman’s eyes as the door closed between them. That dirty, cold and dark room now seemed like a safe place and she’d happily give anything to go back there rather than face what was coming.
“Where are you taking me?” she sputtered through the pain in her scalp.
“You’ll see.”
“Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone about you,” she pleaded.
“Sweetheart, you ain’t never going home.” He laughed as he dragged her along the dark tunnel and the sound sent chills down her spine.
Oh Mike. I love you. I’m sorry. She started saying her goodbyes in her head, certain that it would all soon be over. She hoped it would be.
Thirteen
“Sarah, wake up.” The voice seemed to come from far away and barely filtered through to her unconscious. “Sarah!” Louder this time and accompanied by a hand shaking her shoulder, trying to rouse her. With a groan she opened one eye to glare at whoever was manhandling her.
Mitch. The events of the last few days came rushing back and she remembered why he was there. She was curled up on the couch where she must have fallen asleep the night before and covered in a blanket from her bed.
“I didn’t want you to get cold.” Mitch explained obviously seeing her confusion.
“Thanks. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“You needed it and I work best when I’ve got peace and quiet anyway. No offence.”
She gave him a small smile.
“Here.” He held out a mug for her. “I hope you don’t mind that I made coffee.”
“Of course I don’t, thank you.” She took a sip enjoying the taste of the roasted beans.
“I would have let you sleep longer but I’ve found something you really need to see. I couldn’t believe it when I found it, I still can’t.” He attention had left her now and he was tapping away excitedly on her laptop.
His words chased away any lingering tiredness and she felt her stomach tighten. “What? What have you found?”
Moving from the chair he came and sat next to her on the couch putting the laptop on the coffee table in front of them. “This.”
On the screen there was a webpage with pictures of about a dozen different women. Each image showed a fully clothed woman standing with her back against a dark screen staring straight at the camera. None of the women were smiling though and each face was etched with fear.
“What on earth is this site?” she spoke aloud as she read the information posted in a box below each woman’s image.
“From what I can see it’s a store where sick bastards do their ‘shopping.’” He clicked on one of the images which took him through to a full page profile of the woman in question. By the time she had finished reading what was on the page, Sarah felt sick. On it a full and intimate description of the woman was given and, most sickening of all, there was a price list. The more depraved the act you wanted to do to this woman, the higher the cost.
“This has got to be some sort of sick joke, right? You’re not telling me that this is real?” She couldn’t drag her eyes away from the woman�
��s face. She wanted Mitch to tell her that it wasn’t real but she knew that it was. No one could fake the amount of fear she saw in that woman’s eyes.
“It’s real, alright.”
“But how?” she couldn’t get her head around it. “If something like this is on the web for all to see how has it not been reported and closed down?”
“Ah well there’s the thing, it’s not there for all to see. Have you heard of the deep web?”
Sarah nodded. “Yeh, it’s like a huge chunk of the Internet that you can’t just find through a normal search engine.
“Exactly. Sites like these, and believe me there are thousands, are hidden deep down and are often encrypted and only accessible if you know where to look and how to get in. It takes skill to find them so your average Joe just surfing the Internet is never going to come across something like this.”
“So I’m guessing they’d be damn near impossible to trace, too, then.”
“Absolutely, these people don’t take any chances. They know what they’re doing and if anyone tried to trace the website they’d hit brick wall after brick wall.”
Sarah frowned. “It’s truly horrifying and I’m glad you showed me but what does this have to do with my sister?”
“Well, to be honest, I don’t know that it has anything to do with her but while you were sleeping I did a lot of digging. I managed to find about a dozen reports across the country of accidents just like your sister’s.”
“As many as that?” she was shocked.
“Those are just the ones where the circumstances are almost identical that happened over the past five years. Here, take a look.”
He switched screens and showed her a list he’d compiled. “A bit more digging and I was able to come up with photos for most of the victims,” he pointed to where each entry had a photo next to it.
Sarah’s blood ran cold as her eyes landed on the picture of a smiling woman with long blonde hair which had been taken on a beach somewhere. “That’s her! That’s the woman on the website!”
True Deceit (Blindsided Book 1) Page 4
