by M. Z. Kelly
There were three five-by-seven photographs, each of them showing my mother as the young woman I knew at the time she had disappeared. One photo was taken in a park, another with her posing alone beside a car, and a final image showing her with a man I’d never seen before. I was overwhelmed with emotion as I sifted through the images and realized there were tears on my cheeks. If I was able to be transported back in time to when the photos had been taken, my mother and I could be mistaken for sisters.
“You okay?” Sam asked, reaching over and touching my shoulder.
I sniffed and brushed my tears. “I’m just…I wasn’t expecting this.” I held up the photo of my mother with the man. “Who is he?”
“Mark Banuelos. He was a small time drug dealer back in the early 2000s. He ended up dead of a heroin overdose in 2001.”
“Did the investigators ever talk to him about my mother or the other girl that went missing from the drug program?”
He nodded. “He basically said they were friends and denied knowing anything more.” He rubbed his chin, his gaze moving off. “I think they missed something.”
“Why is that?”
“I found out that Banuelos had ties to one of the Raleigh victims, a girl named Jackie Ralston. They dated a few months before she went missing.”
“Do you think he could have been the Phantom?”
“I don’t think so. He moved to New York around the time Ralston went missing. We can place him living here when the other girls were taken. The timeline doesn’t match up for the other Raleigh victims.”
I stared at the photograph of my Mom with Banuelos. Her companion was handsome, with dark hair and eyes, and a solid build. I knew that you couldn’t draw conclusions from one photograph, but he seemed like the kind of man who had exuded charm and control, traits that could be used to manipulate others.
I looked at Sam. “Maybe he and the Phantom worked together. Banuelos took the girls, and his companion did the killings.”
“It’s possible, but there’s still the issue of him not being in proximity to several of the victims when they were taken. I’ve got a lot more work to do on this.”
I held on his eyes, nodding. “Tell me something, why are you working alone on this? Most agents I’ve worked with in the past have partners.”
“As you know, I’m new to my assignment. My assigned partner recently went out on a medical leave. I’m not sure when, or if, he’ll be back.” He took a few minutes, telling me that his partner had cancer, and the prognosis was poor.
I sighed and dragged a hand through my messy hair. “So, where do we go from here?”
He smiled. “How about dinner?”
FORTY-FIVE
As it turned out, Sam and I didn’t go to dinner because I checked my phone and realized I had a text from Amy, telling me they had found out something important regarding Maria Ramirez. I explained what was happening to Sam in general terms. He offered to stay and help out, but I told him that wasn’t necessary. We agreed to get together for dinner over the weekend. Despite the grim circumstances that had brought us together, I was excited at the prospect of having my first real date in months.
When Amy and Max got home late that afternoon, we all met in our living room, where Amy excitedly told me what they’d learned. “We met with Maria’s music teacher, a woman named Diane Bixby. According to Bixby, Maria went to Bynum College over the summer, and they had a music program that interested her. She also mentioned that a man was the head of the program.”
“What’s the guy’s name?” I asked.
“We googled the school,” Max said. “As it turns out, Bynum is semi-famous for their children’s choir. The guy who heads up the choir is also a big deal in the world of children’s music and has been at the school for over two decades. His name is Professor Osgood Dunning.”
“Osgood,” I said. “That name alone could make him a serial killer.”
“Here’s the good part,” Amy said. “I ran what we’ve got passed Dave Hamlin. He’s that guy I dated in college who still has the hots for me, even though he’s married. Anyway, Hamlin’s a cop in the 63rd. He ran some checks and found out that back in the mid-2000s, Osgood Dunning was suspected of molesting one of the girls in his choir. The case eventually got dropped because Hamlin thinks the family was bought off.”
“Does he have any record since then?” I asked.
“Not even a traffic ticket, but we all know pedophiles don’t change their stripes. He’s probably just gone underground, maybe taking girls like Maria from different parts of the city for his entertainment.”
“How you two wanna play this?” Max said, looking at Amy and me.
“From what we found out, Dunning lives on the grounds of Bynum College, in faculty housing,” Amy said. “I say we go over there and shake him down.”
“Tonight?” I asked.
Amy nodded. “If he’s got Maria, we can’t wait another day.”
I looked at Max. “Do you think we should report this to Lieutenant Dennert?”
She shook her head. “Not unless we both wanna get disciplined. I say we go in hot and low, keep this off the department’s radar, till we know what we got on the guy. We can always call for backup if things heat up.”
I went over and got my coat, thinking about Maria Ramirez being held by the monster. “Let’s move.”
FORTY-SIX
A dim light flickered, extinguished, and then came back. Maria groaned and turned her head. Her world was a dull roar of constant pain and despair. The Professor entered her thoughts. She saw his slick, shiny face as he bent down to her, repeatedly using his hammer or the knife, then the stun gun. Just when she thought she couldn’t stand another blow, he would strike again, until finally, mercifully, the darkness had swept her away.
As her thoughts began to coalesce, she looked around the room. It was the same as before, a dim light, with the small table and the instruments of torture. She no longer heard the children’s voices above her. This world was silent, except for the dull pain that pervaded everything. The monster had spent the night cutting her on her breasts, stomach, and feet. He had explained his rationale.
“I don’t want you to be able to run away,” he had said, before using the sharp instrument on her feet. “We have many, many long nights ahead of us, and I want you on your back.”
“Please, I just want to go home,” she cried. “I won’t tell anyone.”
He laughed. “Of course you won’t. That’s because you will never talk to a living soul again, except for me.” He had moved closer to her, his hot, foul breath in her face. “You are mine now. We are linked together forever. I will possess you until you draw your last breath.”
Maria tried to dismiss the horrible images from her mind. She spent some time listening to the sounds of her world. The creaking of this place that was now her universe.
She had a thought that the building might be older, even though her vision was limited to the twenty or so feet to the front and sides of her. Every now and then she would hear the sound of the pipes, maybe water running somewhere above her. She wondered if there were others in the house, or whatever this place was where she was being held.
Her thoughts eventually drifted to her mother, and the memory of their lives together. Maria had a very good memory and she sifted through the scenes of their lives until she came to what she thought might be her earliest memory of them together.
She and her mother were in their back yard. Mama had spread a blanket on the ground, and they had shared pretend tea and cookies. She remembered clinking their cups together and her mother saying, “Thank you for having tea with me, princess.”
She recalled laughing and telling her mother that she wasn’t a princess.
“Of course you are,” her mother had said. “You are the most beautiful princess in the kingdom and someday you will find a prince.”
The memories dissolved as tears stung Maria’s eyes. The tea party and the thought of ever finding a prince now seeme
d forever lost. She closed her eyes, fighting against the throbbing pain until sleep finally found her.
“Wake up!”
Maria’s eyes sprang open. It was the Professor. He was inches from her face, screaming at her.
“You can’t sleep the night away.” He laughed.
Maria’s eyes widened when she saw that he had the small hammer, the one he had used on her last night. He was striking the palm of his hand with it, like he was practicing what he would do to her. “We have many hours of pleasure ahead of us.”
“Please don’t do this,” she begged.
He reached over and swept the hair from her eyes. “Shh now, don’t you fret, you’re daddy’s little pet.” There was more sickening laughter.
Maria flinched as he pretended to bring the hammer down, stopping an inch from her face. He chuckled, then went over to the table and set the metronome in place. It began the rhythmic ticking sound that would measure the beats of terror as she waited for what was to come. He came back over to her, his hammer in hand.
A bell! Maria heard a bell ringing, like a doorbell, somewhere above them.
The monster went over and put the hammer on his torture table, then came back over to her. “It would seem that we have company.” He pushed a gag into her mouth and wrapped tape around her head as the bell pealed again. He whispered, “Not a word out of you now, or you will pay dearly.”
FORTY-SEVEN
It was just past nine in the evening as Max and I stood beside Amy while she rang Professor Osgood Dunning’s doorbell for the third time. There was no response. The residence seemed deserted. The professor’s cottage was at the rear of the School of Musical Arts on the rambling campus of Bynum College. The school and grounds of the small liberal arts college were beautiful, tucked away in a wooded area that was off Highway 95, near the village of Harrison, less than an hour north of the city.
“I don’t think anybody’s home,” Max said.
Amy disagreed. “You ask me, the little snake’s in his cave, hiding out.” She leaned on the bell again.
“I hear something,” I said after a moment. “I think someone’s coming.”
We heard footfalls before the door creaked open a few inches. A dark eye peered at us from below the safety chain.
“Why are you bothering me?” a gravelly voice demanded.
“Professor Dunning?” Amy said.
“What do you want?”
“We’re looking for a girl.” She held up the photograph of our victim, which she’d had blown up. “She toured your music program over the summer. Her name is Maria Ramirez, and she’s gone missing.”
The dark eye fixed on the photo for an instant, but gave nothing up. “Never seen her before.”
The door started to close, but Amy stuck out a foot. “Yes, you have. You gave her a tour of your program in early August.”
“Don’t remember her. Go away.”
He leaned on the door, but Amy didn’t budge. “Are you alone tonight?”
“Of course, and it’s none of your business anyway.” This time the weight on the door prevailed, and it slammed shut.
Never one to take no for an answer, Amy used the palm of her hand to ring the bell again…and again….and again. There was no response.
We took a couple steps off the porch and huddled. “I don’t believe a word he said,” Amy told us. “We need to look in the windows.”
“Suppose he calls security,” Max said.
Amy fixed her blue eyes on our hefty friend. “Suppose he’s got Maria.”
Max lowered her gaze, nodded.
“Let’s watch ourselves,” I said as we moved out. “I don’t trust the little asshole.”
We spread out and did our best to look through the windows. Unfortunately, most of the windows were above grade, making it impossible to see inside the cottage. We gave up after a few minutes and all met up in front of the residence again. Then we heard an engine starting.
“Do you hear that?” I asked.
Max pointed to a garage that was adjacent to the music building. “It’s over there. I think it’s our guy, making a hasty exit.”
As we looked in the direction she indicated, a van came roaring out of the garage, skidded across the driveway, and accelerated up the street.
“It’s the little snake,” Amy said. “And I’ll bet he’s got Maria. Let’s go.”
FORTY-EIGHT
Maria had no idea what was happening. All she did know was that she’d been saved from another torture session, if only temporarily. The Professor had pushed her off the table, and she fell onto her knees.
“Get up, God damn it!” her tormentor had demanded. He’d slipped a rope around her hands, tied them behind her back, and then fixed his hateful eyes on her. “We’re leaving. Do exactly as you’re told, or you die.”
He’d roughly pushed her up the stairway, but she had trouble walking because of the cuts on her feet. She’d stumbled and fallen back.
“Move, move,” he’d demanded, pushing her forward. “We don’t have much time.”
Maria had been alternately pushed, then pulled up the stairway and then down a hallway. In a few moments they stopped at a door. When it opened, she saw there was a stairway there. She had been pushed forward again, tumbling down a series of steps. A light had come on and she’d realized they were in a garage.
The Professor barked orders as the car door had come open. “Get down and stay down. Do not get up or look up until I say it’s okay.”
Maria had been tossed into the back seat of the car. It smelled musty and foul here, like something had died. Seconds passed, then the driver’s side door came open and closed. The car’s engine roared to life, a garage door lifted, and Maria saw the tree branches and sky appearing above her through the windows. The car screeched and skidded wildly down the highway.
“You motherfuckers!” she heard her tormentor screaming at someone. “I’m going to kill you all!”
The car continued to accelerate and swerve from side to side, throwing Maria partially off the seat. Her hands had come loose from the ropes and she reached down, bracing herself. She felt something cold and hard on the floorboard, but in the gathering darkness couldn’t tell what it was.
The car abruptly braked and accelerated again. Maria’s hand came loose, then tightened around what she’d found. Then she knew. It was a screwdriver, only she was holding it by the wrong end.
Maria Ramirez had never been a violent person. In fact, she never remembered losing her temper, until now. She moved her body up, until she was directly behind the Professor.
She held the screwdriver against his neck and, in that moment, released all the rage and pain the monster had visited upon her.
“Pull over or you die!” she screamed.
FORTY-NINE
“He’s heading for the highway!” Amy yelled as she stomped on the accelerator. “We’ve got to cut him off before he loses us in traffic.”
Our pursuit almost ended before it began when Amy took a turn too fast and skidded off the roadway. The car started to lose traction, but she regained control. In a few moments, we were less than fifty yards behind Professor Oswald Dunning’s gray sedan.
“Do you see anybody with him?” Max asked from the back seat.
I was in the front passenger seat and had a clear view. “It looks like he’s alone.”
“Maybe we should call for backup, have them check his cottage for Maria.”
I was about to agree with her when my phone chirped. I saw the call was from Sam Crawford. After I answered, he said, “I’m at Dunning’s place. No one’s home.”
“What...how did you...?”
“I knew something was up and followed you. I thought you might need some backup. The guy’s got some kind of torture chamber in his basement.”
“We’re in pursuit, headed south on Highway 95.”
“I’m on the way. I’ll call for backup.”
I ended the call, told the others what he’d said, and s
tretched the truth, “Sam offered to follow us, in case we needed help. I didn’t see any harm.”
“You two seem like you’re getting real chummy, real quick,” Amy said.
I was about to respond when I saw a figure in the back seat of Professor Dunning’s car rise up.
“It must be Maria!” I yelled. “She’s alive!”
FIFTY
“I said pull over or you die.”
The monster known as the Professor laughed at Maria. “Don’t be ridiculous. If I turn the wheel, we go off the highway and we both die.”
Maria pushed the tip of the screwdriver harder against his neck. “At least I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing you’re dead.”
He hesitated, turning his head slightly in her direction. “What about your mother?”
“What…what about her?”
“If you die, you’ll never see her again.”
Tears sprang from Maria’s eyes as she choked, “I said stop the car.”
He craned his neck, trying to look back at her. “Why don’t you lie down until this is over? I don’t want you to get hurt.”
She took a moment, wiping her tears with one hand. Before she knew what was happening, her tormentor had reached back and grabbed her other hand, the one with the screwdriver.
“Drop it, you little bitch!” he screamed, as the car swerved wildly down the highway, careening out of control.
Maria fell back, but managed to hold onto the screwdriver. The car was skidding now, headed toward a guardrail. In that moment Maria knew what she had to do.
She leaned forward, moving her arm down in a slicing motion, piercing her tormentor’s neck. The Professor screamed and the car smashed into the guardrail. Maria’s world then turned upside down as the car flipped over. The last thing she saw was blood—it was everywhere.
FIFTY-ONE
“Something’s happening!” I yelled, as the Professor’s car fishtailed and headed off the freeway. “He’s losing control.”
