The Depth of Darkness

by L. T. Ryan

  “Was there anything useful from the McCree interview?” I asked, re-breaking the ice.

  She shook her head. “He answered everything perfectly. Saw nothing. Knows nothing. Hates his brother, but feels compelled to help him out in hopes that the guy would change his ways. Hadn’t seen Lipsky in years. Said he’ll take responsibility for the hire.”

  “Responsibility?” My voice rose in anger and my chest and arm muscles tightened. “Then he can carry his ass to jail since he’s responsible for getting those two children kidnapped.”

  She reached over and placed her hand on mine. “I know, Mitch. Trust me, they are going to go after him once this is all over.”

  “They?” I asked.

  She stared at me for a moment before answering. “I don’t know if I’m on this case anymore. All those changes, Major Crimes and the Mayor, just posturing to get us removed.”

  “I see,” I said, nodding.

  “My guys did find out that the little girl, her name’s Debby Walker, her family is pretty poor. No real reason for a motive there. Mother’s a piece of work. Said she seemed distraught enough, but something was missing.”

  I felt my heart break a little. Would the girl truly be missed by anyone if she were never found? “The motive, well, they said it looked like she attacked the guy that took the boy.”

  Bridget nodded, placed her forearms on the counter and leaned over the island. “Bernard Holland. They call him Beans. His parents recently started calling him Bernie, at the kid’s request. The poor thing, he’s got a ton of health issues, asthma, as we learned earlier, being the least of them.”

  “What else?”

  She waved her hand in front of her face while taking a pull from the beer bottle. “I’ll get to that in a minute. First, I wanted to tell you what Vinson found out.”

  I waited while she took another sip of beer. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, leaving a small drop behind. It slid past the corner of her mouth and dripped off her jaw.

  “Mitch, his parents are loaded.”

  Chapter 35

  “Loaded?” I repeated.

  “Rich,” she said. “His father is some kind of engineer. They couldn’t give us all the details because it’s classified. They,” she paused, “really him, because the wife doesn’t even know.”

  “Is that right? So, something he sold to the government, then?”

  She nodded. “Exactly. We’re working on getting someone with the appropriate clearance and seeing if there is anything that can be declassified if it pertains to the case in any way.”

  “Who else might know of this? I mean, depending on what this is, we could be dealing with a situation that none of us envisioned. What if someone wants what he invented and won’t give the kids back until they have it?”

  “Vinson thought of that and asked if it would be anything along those lines. Mr. Holland really couldn’t say, but he downplayed the notion.”

  “When did all this happen?” I asked.

  “It’s very, very recent from what the father said. They only recently received the money, and hardly anyone knows about it. Just some family. They wanted to get the funds spread out, investments and so on, before moving away.”

  “Did Beans know they were planning on moving?”

  She chewed on her lip a moment. “I don’t know. Vinson didn’t say. We should follow up on that.”

  “Yeah,” I said, wondering about her use of we. I went to the fridge, grabbed a couple more beers and pulled out the last two slices of pizza. I offered her a piece.

  “Cold is fine,” she said.

  I grabbed a couple paper towels and handed her one along with the slice.

  “So if not espionage, then you’re thinking that someone got wind of the Holland’s recent influx of money and they’ve taken the boy for that reason?” I asked.

  She nodded while taking a bite of pizza.

  “Why haven’t they called yet?”

  “Ransom?”

  I nodded.

  “Maybe the girl threw a kink into their plans. They have to get rid of her first.”

  My hand stopped with the pizza inches shy of my mouth. Call me optimistic, but I’d held out hope that we’d find both kids alive. This sounded more and more like the girl was useless to the kidnappers. What would they do with her? My mind flashed images of a child found half-buried in the woods, or floating in a lake.

  Bridget seemed to feel the effect of her words as well. She looked down at the granite countertop. “We’re going to do everything we can to get both of them home safe, Mitch. They’ll call. We know they’ll call. This went down as it was planned, not some random pervert taking a kid for some sick reason. The FBI has people experienced in negotiating these things to a safe resolution.”

  I stepped back until I reached the wall. I leaned my head back. A spider crawled along the ceiling. A quick shiver ran through my body and I moved out of the spider’s path. Every few seconds I glanced up at it.

  “Want me to kill it?” Bridget said.

  I glanced over and saw her smiling at me. Sure, mock my pain, Special Agent. “No, he has as much right to live as we do. Don’t do anything to piss him off, and I think we’ll be all right.” Despite my words, I still couldn’t stop focusing on the arachnid.

  “Want to go in the other room then, Mr. Pacifist?” she asked.

  “Yeah, let’s do that.”

  I followed her into the living room and set my beer and pizza down on the coffee table. Lana smiled at me from within a picture frame. I set it face down on the table. Bridget noticed this, but didn’t say anything. She leaned back into the cushion and pulled one leg up under the other, angling her body so she faced me.

  “I was thirteen,” she said. “On my way home from school. It was only a mile, so I walked there and back. It’s warm most every day in Florida, so that was never a big deal. Rain every once in a while. Again, no big deal. We lived in a quiet community, for the most part. It had its bad part of town, just like everywhere else.” Bridget paused to take a drink. “One day, this beat up pickup truck pulls up next to me. The thing was all rusted over. Big hole in it above the rear tire. Two guys were in the truck. I recognized them as friends of my mom’s boyfriend, Gary. I forget what they said to me at first. I ignored them, you know, trying to act like I didn’t hear them. I was maybe three blocks from home and I figured that if they kept it up, I’d run. Anyway, they didn’t like that I wouldn’t acknowledge them very much. One of them called me a whore and said something like, we’re gonna teach you a lesson for Gary.”

  “Gary, your mom’s boyfriend?”

  She nodded and continued. “We didn’t get along. I refused to listen to him, and he hated me for it. So, anyway, they kept it up, so I started to run. The truck stayed right behind me until I hurdled a fence into someone’s yard. Big mistake. They had some kind of dog who came tearing after me. I was forced to climb right back over, and the guys waited for me. I tried to run, but couldn’t get away. The short one pulled a gun and forced me into the truck. I sat in the middle on this torn up, duct taped vinyl seat. The inside of the cab was covered in dirt. The ashtray was full of cigarette butts. The wind whipped the ashes around. I remember how they burned my nose. The whole ride, he kept sliding the barrel of the gun along my leg, down to my knee, up to my crotch. They passed a bottle back and forth, taking turns drinking from it. It wasn’t long before the barrel was replaced by his hand on my leg.”

  I tensed, knowing where this likely led.

  “They drove me deep into the woods. We got out and they led me down a worn out path. Eventually the path became overgrown. We kept walking. If I stopped, they jammed the barrel of a rifle into my back.” She stopped and looked toward the back door, holding her finger in the air. Eventually, she shook her head and started up with her story. “They had a deer blind out there. You know what that is, right?”

  I nodded.

  “So, this place was all boarded up, and there were some old weathered tw
o-by-fours scattered on the ground. They forced me inside the blind. One of them followed me in there. He kept coming toward me. I backed up into the wall, then slid along to the corner. I ended up with this huge splinter in the back of my leg. It got infected and they had to cut it out at the hospital. Anyway, I had nowhere to go. I remember my heart beating so fast and I wished it would just explode.” Her eyes glossed over, but she didn’t stop. “He grabs me by my neck. His fingers were calloused, and the skin jagged. It scratched me pretty good. He leans in to my left, and licks the side of my face. He pulls back and smiles, and even in the dimness of the room, I could see the stains on his teeth. The putrid smell of his saliva stayed with me for a week, even after I’d scrubbed my face so hard that the skin broke.”

  “What happened next?”

  “He backed out of the blind. They used the two by fours to board up the door and the windows. Little cracks let the light in. I heard a swooshing or a splashing sound. Next thing, I smelled gasoline vapors. I went hysterical at that point because I thought they were going to burn me. I remember screaming, please help me, I’ll do whatever you want.”

  I looked her over, wondering if she wore jeans to cover up the burns.

  She must have noticed my gaze. “They didn’t light it. It was all to scare me. That bastard Gary put them up to it. Worst part is, Mitch, my mother knew about it and didn’t do a single thing about it. They kept me out there for a week. Every day or two, they brought me some bread to eat and water to drink. There was a bucket in there for me use as a toilet. A whole horrifying week I stayed in there with spiders and mosquitoes biting me. Snakes came in and out, slithering over my legs. Some lesson, right?”

  “How’d you get out?”

  “They let me out. They rode in on four-wheelers, pulled off the boards and then drove off. The sun was setting at the time. No way in hell was I waiting there. What if they came back the next morning? I had to find my way out of the woods and then home. And I did it. It took me all night, but I did it. I waited outside of the house until both my mother and Gary were gone, then I went in, got a shower, packed, stole some money and got on a bus to Charlotte. My grandmother met me there. She took me in and raised me. My mom didn’t put up a fight, even after Gary went to jail for attempted murder.”

  “He tried to kill her?”

  Bridget nodded slowly, looking toward the ceiling. “I haven’t seen her since I graduated high school. Even then, she didn’t come up to see me. She sat in the back and then walked out. Didn’t show up for my college or law school graduation, or when I graduated from the Academy.”

  “I’m sorry, Bridget. I really am.”

  She shrugged and then stretched. “It’s all in the past. It made me who I am. I can’t complain about that.”

  We both walked to the kitchen to grab a fresh beer. The clock on the microwave said it was three in the morning. I opened the fridge, reached in and pulled out two more bottles. Lavender rode a breeze that blew in my direction. When I turned around, Bridget was standing in front of me. I leaned in and so did she. Our lips met. I didn’t stop kissing her until well after our clothes were off.

  Chapter 36

  I woke up on the floor between the couch and the TV, on top of a comforter I had pulled out of the linen closet. Though it covered most of the floor, Bridget and I only took up a small section of it. I’d fallen asleep with her in my arms. I woke up alone. Rising, I glanced toward the kitchen. An open pizza box stood between a half-dozen or so beer bottles. I reached my arms in the air and twisted the kinks out of my back.

  “Bridget?” I called out.

  There was no response. I assumed she’d gone home. Had she tried to wake me before she left? Perhaps she felt too embarrassed. No reason to dwell on it. Not yet, at least. We were both professionals, and could act accordingly the next time we were in each other’s presence in a professional setting.

  Alone, though? Time would tell. I hoped.

  My phone beeped from somewhere in the kitchen. I found it on the counter, silenced it and started a fresh pot of coffee. While waiting for my morning java to brew, I checked my missed calls. There were sixteen. Guess that’s what I got for silencing the ringer. I counted five calls from Sam, eight from Huff, two from my mother, and one from Bridget. Had she called to apologize? And if so, for what? Coming over, or running out?

  The final drips of fresh brew fell from the filter into the pot. I filled a mug and topped it off with some cream. Anticipation built as I lifted the hot liquid to my mouth. Like a junkie and a needle, I tell you. The first few sips went down hot. Instantly I felt awake. My finger hovered over Bridget’s number for a few seconds. Instead, I called Sam.

  “I just heard the news, Mitch.”

  “What news?” It could have been anything. I heard about the ransom demand. I heard about Lana banging McCree. I heard about you banging Bridget.

  He hadn’t heard any of those things. “A month without pay, man. That’s harsh.”

  Ah, my suspension. “Christ, is that what I got?”

  “You don’t know yet?”

  “I just got up.”

  “Say what?”

  I said nothing.

  “You didn’t go in to defend yourself?”

  “They had at least eight witnesses. It was a lost cause.”

  “You might have only got two weeks, though. And with pay.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Yeah, perhaps. That’s all you got to say?”

  I said, “Whatever. I can use the time off.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “I know.” I took a sip from my mug. “What’s new with the kids?”

  “No one’s telling me anything.”

  “I heard that the boy’s parents are loaded. Something about the dad selling something to the government.”

  “I heard something like that myself.”

  “Wonder if it’s from the same source?” I asked, trying to be as smooth as possible while gathering information on Bridget.

  “Is that source the reason why you woke up so late?”

  I didn’t reply.

  “So what are you going to do?”

  I hadn’t thought about it. Figured then was as good a time as any. “I’m going to go pick up Ella and head out of town for a couple of days. Go camping or something. Spend some time just me and her and hope that clears my head.”

  “I heard about Lana,” he said. “Sorry.”

  “Yeah, well, it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

  “Like I said from the beginning, Mitch, she was too hot for you.”

  “Screw you,” I said and then I hung up the phone to the sounds of Sam’s laughter.

  I fixed a couple eggs, scrambled, then called Huff to receive the official word that I’d been suspended. The call was much shorter than my conversation with Sam.

  Huff said, “One month, no pay. Don’t even think about coming around the station, not even to use the toilet.”

  I didn’t bother to reply. After I hung up, I checked my email. My personal account was full of new junk mail. Apparently, someone in Africa wanted to send me eight million dollars if I helped them open a bank account. Maybe I could look into that if this cop thing didn’t work out. Perhaps not. When I tried to access my work email account, a message popped up that told me it had been suspended as well.

  One month, no pay, no email.

  Bummer.

  Not for Ella, though. Not at first, at least. After a few weeks, she’d grow tired of daddy telling her what to do and when to do it all day long, every day. Then again, maybe not. Kids that young have a way of bouncing back relatively quickly. It’d be a good thing, overall. A chance for the two of us to reconnect. I’d worked so hard to shield her from the realities of life without her mother and brother that I worried I’d begun shielding her from the rest of the world around her. A month could help us both rediscover our place in this crazy world.

  After I finished my second mug of coffee, I powered off the laptop and head
ed upstairs. Folded clothes covered my bed. I’d forgotten to put them away. It made it easy to pack. I tossed a pair of shorts, jeans, some t-shirts and boxers into a duffel bag. Should be plenty assuming there was access to a washing machine. I showered, skipped shaving, and put on some fresh clothes. Jeans and a polo. Casual Tuesday’s, you know. I left the rest of the clothes on the bed and headed downstairs. I emptied the contents of the coffee pot into a travel mug and headed out the front door. Only problem was, the Chevy was gone. The department had reclaimed it already. They didn’t waste any time. It’d be thirty days or so before I saw it again. Maybe they’d make Sam drive it around from now on.

  The cold front had come through last night. It made driving the Boss a little more bearable since the car didn’t have working air conditioning. I backed the beast out of the garage and let it idle in the driveway while I got out to shut the garage door. Mine was the only house in the neighborhood without an automatic opener. Wasn’t the only way I stood out from the rest of my neighbors.

  With the windows down and the radio turned up too loud, I drove to the hospital to pay a visit to Lana. I still hadn’t decided whether or not I’d confront her over the revelation made in the transcripts of McCree’s interview. It could have been that McCree was aware of our relationship and said that stuff just to get a rise out of me. Or it could have been the truth.

  I parked at the back of the visitor’s lot. The sun beat down from directly overhead, absorbed by the blacktop. The tall buildings blocked the breeze, leaving the air hot and stagnant. I crossed the lot quickly and made my way through the main entrance. Double glass sliding doors slid open, freeing a burst of disinfected chilled air that quickly cooled me off. I walked past the information desk. The old woman seated behind it smiled. I nodded back. No directions today, ma’am. After five minutes of walking through plain hospital hallways, I stood outside of Lana’s room. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door, and then I stepped inside the room.

  She looked up, surprised. A weak smile formed on her lips. “Mitch.” Her smile faded as quickly as it appeared, and her eyes glossed over.