by M. Z. Kelly
Max nodded. “We need to talk one of these days, honey. I’ll tell you just how weird the world really is.”
The Cumberland funeral was an emotional affair, with lots of flowers, music, and eulogies. It was attended by over four hundred mourners. Darryl and Merrill showed up after learning from Thorndike that the service would involve open caskets, probably so they could see what the crowd thought of their handiwork. There were a few grumblings from the family members saying the dearly departed didn’t look like they had in life. Then Amy, Max, and I got a chance to look for ourselves.
“This guy looks like an ex-president,” Max said, after examining the father of the clan.
“And his wife looks like that singer who went on a drunken rant on stage a couple months ago,” Amy commented.
I agreed, realizing that the family members all resembled politicians or celebrities who shall go unnamed so they won’t know they look like dead people in coffins.
“What do you think?” Darryl said, coming over to us with Merrill.
I searched for something to say and finally came up with, “Very impressive. They remind me of famous people.”
“That’s because we used some old photographs we found in People magazine,” Merrill said. He did a fist bump with Darryl. “I think it’s our true calling. We’re artists.”
“With people who can’t complain,” Max agreed.
“Your subjects look really lifelike,” Amy said, putting her own best spin on things.
We continued our discussion before we heard a commotion in the crowd. A man shouted, “I’m the rightful heir! The Cumberland fortune is mine!”
A woman came over and wagged a finger at the man. “There’s been a codicil to the will. You’re not getting a penny.”
There was more shouting, family members taking sides and making threats.
“Oh, my,” Thorndike said. “I’m afraid there’s going to be a disturbance. You need to do something.”
The crowd was growing angrier by the second. I looked at Max and Amy. “Any ideas?”
“I could go get my pepper spray and give ‘em a blast,” Max said.
“We can’t do that in here.”
As I said the words, a fist fight broke out. Several people started screaming. I didn’t know if anyone in the cathedral was armed, but given that half the population was carrying these days, it wouldn’t surprise me.
“We gotta do something,” Amy said.
I looked around the cathedral, deciding there was only one option. I went over and pulled the fire alarm. A shrill blast filled the cathedral before an overhead sprinkler system came on, drenching everyone and filling the chamber with water.
As the last of the mourners scurried like drowning rats out of the cathedral, Max and Amy came over to me. We were all soaking wet.
“Looks like you really pissed on this party,” Amy said to me.
Thorndike was less grateful. The little man was trying to wring the water out of his coat as he came over to us on the steps of the cathedral. “You’ve flooded the place,” he fumed. “What are we going to do?”
Max went over to the closet, found a mop, and handed it to him. “We are gonna go change clothes, while you clean up.”
As we made our way back to our living quarters, Amy said to us, “I always heard weddings and funerals bring out the best and worst in everybody.”
Amy looked at her and said, “I just hope what we’ve seen so far isn’t the best.”
THIRTY-SIX
“It’s movie night,” Tanya said, as Maria and the other girls filed into the room. “Everyone gets popcorn.”
Maria took a seat on the hard cement floor next to Christina and crossed her legs. There was a small flat screen TV on a chair in the corner of the room. Despite having their makeup and hair done, no one had come. Maybe the men who were coming to see them had been delayed. If that was the case, Maria was grateful. She knew that whatever they had planned for them wasn’t good.
While Tanya went over to the TV, Maria whispered to Christina, “You okay?”
Christina sniffed and shook her head, but otherwise didn’t respond or look at her.
“What did they do to you?” Maria asked.
Christina kept her eyes downcast, didn’t say anything.
“Silence,” Tanya said, her fleshy features hardening as she turned in their direction for an instant. She continued working on the TV. When she finished, she turned back to them, holding a remote in her hands. “This is one of our best girls. Her name is Monique. She’s going to show you how things are done.”
Maria watched as a grainy video came on the screen. The girl, who she assumed was Monique, went over to the door and let a heavyset white man into the room.
“What do you have in mind tonight?” Monique said, smiling and running a hand over her small breasts. She was dressed in a short shirt and a tight blouse. Maria guessed she wasn’t much older than her.
“I want you to use your mouth on me, then I want to be inside you,” the man said, leering at her.
Monique giggled. “That sounds like fun. It’ll be $50 plus $200, and, believe me, it will be worth your time.”
“I haven’t got that much,” the man said. He tried to negotiate the price, but Monique held firm. “It’s two-fifty, or you can leave. I’ve got a busy schedule.”
The man relented and she took his money. Maria wanted to throw up when she saw what followed. Monique unzipped the man’s pants and took him into her mouth as he moaned.
“See how she works,” Tanya said, turning away from the TV and smiling. “Monique’s not only got his money, she works quickly.” She turned back to the television.
Maria saw that the man was now on top of Monique, grunting as he thrust himself inside her. It was the most disgusting thing she’d ever seen.
Tanya continued. “This will be over in a moment.”
The man groaned, and when he was finished he rolled off the girl.
“Notice how she gets him dressed and out the door in a matter of minutes,” Tanya said. “That’s the key. Get the customer in and out. On a good night, Monique can take care of thirty men.” She laughed. “If you were good at math in school, you know that’s $7,000.” She turned off the TV. “I’m not saying that you get to keep all that money, but if you work hard and do as you’re told, you’ll have nice clothes and good food.” She lowered her voice. “And if you don’t work hard and get with the program…” She smiled in a way that roiled Maria’s stomach. “…you will regret it. I promise you.”
Maria turned away and didn’t listen to the rest of what Tanya said. What she’d seen and heard was horrifying. There was no way she could have sex with men like the one she just saw, let alone dozens of men a night. She was being watched constantly and realized now that committing suicide wasn’t an option. She would have to find a way to escape. No matter what it took, she was determined to avoid the life that the girl named Monique lived.
THIRTY-SEVEN
I took off work the next day, calling in sick both because I had a sinus headache and I wanted to talk to the FBI about my mother’s case. After taking something for the headache, I went to the Federal Plaza Building in Manhattan. I decided to keep the fact that I was a police officer to myself, not wanting anyone in the department getting wind of what I was up to.
I took a few minutes and explained to a receptionist why I was there. After telling her in general terms about a possible link between my mother’s disappearance and the killer known as the Phantom, she took my phone number and told me someone would call me.
Out of frustration, I finally showed her my credentials. “I’m a police officer, so I would appreciate it if you could let me talk to someone in charge.”
“Why didn’t you say something before?”
“I didn’t think it was important,” I lied.
After more questions, and a one hour wait, I finally got to talk to an agent. We met in an office that was a couple stories lower than the main FBI headquarters
.
“Sorry about the wait and the mess,” Special Agent Sam Crawford said after introductions. He removed some boxes from a chair and cleared a space for me to sit across from his desk. “I’m still in the process of moving, and…” His blue eyes shifted, taking in the stacks of boxes, files, and assorted paperwork. “…the place is still a work in progress.” He took a seat across from me. “I understand this is about the disappearance of your mother.”
The FBI agent was probably in his mid-thirties. He was handsome, with short sandy hair. He was dressed in the manner typical of an FBI agent, wearing a dark suit, a crisp white shirt, and a blue silk tie.
“My mother…” I paused, trying to put my thoughts in order. “…her name was…is…Mary Knox. She was in a drug program called New Beginnings when she went missing back in 2000.”
He nodded. “I’m told you think her disappearance could be linked to the man the press dubbed the Phantom?”
“Yes.”
“Why is that?”
I took a few minutes, telling him about my mother’s abrupt departure from the drug program, my discussion with her drug counselor at New Beginnings, and what I’d learned about rumors that the Phantom might have been burying bodies in the cemetery where my friends and I live.
When I’d finished the explanation, Crawford smiled for the first time since I’d met him. “You really live in a cemetery?”
I brushed a hand through my hair and tugged at the sleeves of my sweater, cursing myself for dressing so casually. “My friends and I live in the caretaker’s quarters. The rent is very reasonable and we provide security for the cathedral during the funerals.”
He rubbed his jaw. “I see. That must make for some interesting discussions at cocktail parties.”
“I suppose it would, if I went to parties.” I suddenly felt like a fool for making it sound like I never went out. I tried to compensate by adding, “I’m more into casual get-togethers than formal parties.” His smile was still there, making me shift nervously in my chair. I decided I couldn’t have come across any more stupid if I tried.
He finally broke eye contact with me, scribbling some notes on a pad. “You said that you were twelve when your mother disappeared. Who raised you?”
“My aunt and uncle. They live in the Brooklyn.”
The smile was gone now. I got a thoughtful nod. He stood. “Let me see if I can find the files.” He went over to a bank of filing cabinets, opened and shut several drawers, and finally came over to me with a box of files.
His blue eyes fixed on me again. “I’m sorry I’m not more organized. I’m new to this assignment and don’t…” He exhaled. “I don’t even have a partner assigned yet.” He reached into the box and removed several files, then spent about five minutes reading what, he told me, was a summary of the cold case.
When Crawford finished, he leaned back in his chair and told me what little he knew about the case. “Back around the turn of the century, a total of six victims, all young women between the ages of twenty-one and thirty-four, were found in shallow graves in the Westwood Cemetery in Raleigh, North Carolina. They had all been raped, strangled, and, according to the reports, the killer had left roses with the bodies before burying them. Two of the victims had defensive wounds, and there was DNA scrapings taken from their nails. Unfortunately, there was no match in any of the databases.”
“And those victims, I take it they had all been in drug treatment at one time?”
He nodded. “They all received treatment in a couple of different programs in the local area.”
“And what led the investigators to New York?”
“Since there were no leads, they widened the net, focusing on girls that were either in or had been in treatment in surrounding states. The file does mention your mother, along with a woman named Dorothy King, both having disappeared from New Beginnings. There was also a mention of Funk’s Forever Fields in the summary, but nothing definitive was ever established linking the disappearance of your mother or Ms. King to the North Carolina cases.”
“Do the reports say anything about a man named Jax or Jackson? The drug program told me someone by that name was bothering my mother.”
He glanced at the file again. “Nothing.”
“What about other developments in the interim?”
“It’s been in open, unsolved for…” He did the math. “…over a dozen years now.”
My gaze moved off for a moment, even as I felt Crawford’s eyes still on me. After a long moment, he brought my attention back to him. “Tell me again why you think your mother’s disappearance might be linked to Funk’s Fields.”
“It’s just that…” I met his eyes. “There have been rumors over the years amongst the local cops that maybe the Phantom has continued to use the cemetery as his dumping ground.” I exhaled. “All I have is the rumors, but apparently your original investigators also felt there was some connection.”
He nodded, his eyes still fixed on me.
I stood. “Thank you for going over the case with me. My mother…” I tugged at my sleeves. “I’m sure you would do the same if it was your mother. You never give up hope.”
“Of course.”
He walked to the door with me. We stopped there. He looked at me and said, “I could come by.”
“I’m sorry?”
“The cemetery, your…where you live. Maybe we could take a look at things together.”
I held on his eyes for a long moment. “You really would do that?”
“I’m between…” He finally broke eye contact, his gaze shifting to his cluttered office. He looked back at me. “I’m between cases at the moment. I’d be happy to come by.”
I smiled. “How about the day after tomorrow?”
“I’ve got your contact information. I’ll text you to confirm the time.”
As I left the FBI building and walked down the sidewalk, a smile played on my lips. I didn’t know if Special Agent Crawford would ever help me find my mother or the monster who had murdered the other young women. All I did know was that he was handsome and seemed interested in both my mother’s case and in me.
Even as I lay in bed later that night, I found my thoughts drifting to Sam Crawford. Was he really interested in me, or had it been my imagination working overtime? After my brief marriage to Vinny Wozniak, I’d been involved with a couple other men over the years. One of those relationships was with a guy named Miles. We were together for almost a year, and even talked about marriage, before he confided in me that he was bisexual and was hooking up with one of his guy friends on the side.
Neither my dating life nor my self-esteem had ever fully recovered from that breakup. I even sometimes wondered if I’d end up an old lady with a house full of cats.
Now, my afternoon with Agent Sam Crawford had stirred the faint embers of a fire that had all but been extinguished. And the more I thought about him, the more those embers seemed to glow. I knew it was a schoolgirl kind of thing to do, but I even imagined us dating. And more.
I turned out the lamp, pulled my covers up, and smiled. Hope springs eternal—along with simmering hormones.
THIRTY-EIGHT
“I want a young one,” Maria heard the old man say to Diego as they circled the room. “Nothing over fifteen.”
“You would be looking for a virgin, then?” Diego said.
She didn’t hear his response, only the laughter that followed. There was another man who came into the room and joined them. He was younger than Diego, maybe in his twenties. He stared hard at them, like he was sizing them up. She and the other girls were all sitting in a circle, wearing the short, tight skirts and blouses. Maria felt their eyes fixing on her and shifted nervously.
The men continued to circle them until the old man stopped in front of her and bent down. “How old are you?” he demanded.
She remembered what he’d said earlier about wanting someone young and lied. “Seventeen. I’m seventeen.”
He laughed, exposing crooked, brown t
eeth, then stood up. He turned to Diego. “How much?”
The men lowered their voices. She could tell they were talking about her, haggling over the price. The old man had made an offer that Diego said was unacceptable. She said a silent prayer the man wouldn’t take her. The thought of having sex with him was the most disgusting thing she could ever imagine.
The men’s voices finally trailed off. Diego signaled to Tanya, calling her over to them.
Maria’s heart was nearly beating out of her chest when Tanya came over to her and said, “Get up.”
She knew in that moment a deal had been struck. The vile, ugly man had bought her. She didn’t move, refusing to look at Tanya or do as she was told.
An arm came down. She realized it was Diego grabbing her. “Get up. Now,” he demanded.
Maria pulled away, refusing to comply. They could shoot her or strangle her or do whatever they wanted, but she wasn’t going with the horrible man.
There was another sharp tug on her arm, and she was roughly pulled up to her feet. Diego pushed her toward the old man. “You go with him.”
“No!” she shouted. “I won’t.”
Tanya came over and slapped her hard across the face. “Do as you are told.”
She shrank back and fell to the ground. “No.”
There was lots of arguing now, angry voices. This time the old man, the one who had bought her, came over to her. He had some kind of device in his hand and held it out.
Maria saw a flash, and, an instant later, her body began to jerk and convulse.
“Please, no,” she called out. Then the world turned dark and silent.
THIRTY-NINE
I was on my way home when I got a frantic call from Amy. “I just heard from Edgar. His guy, Spike, is on the inside with a couple of guys and a woman who took the girls, but he doesn’t know where he is.”
“Why is that?”
“He was blindfolded and driven to the location. What are we going to do?”
