As the front door opened, my breath hitched as remorse extinguished anything joyful. We were greeted by a very solemn–faced, stern looking man I assumed was Ryan’s father. The expression upon his face was exactly what I dreaded. If Barry was there holding my hand, I’d probably squeeze too hard, but it would have let me channel some of that heartbreak.
After Mr. Boyer opened the door to let us in, I could tell instantly these were very religious people. On the wall, as we came into the house, a huge iron–rod cross greeted us, along with a framed picture of Jesus hanging adjacent to it. Other than that, the walls were pretty bare, except for a painting of the last supper hanging on the distant wall.
Sitting on the far end of the couch with a bible in her hand was Mrs. Boyer. She resembled the typical Sunday school teacher, long skirt, hair fixed in a bun, appearing like she couldn’t hurt a fly. She didn’t have the normal glow they usually have; it was replaced with pain. It was heart–wrenching to see her anguished expression.
I figured she wasn’t getting much support from her husband since I pegged Mr. Boyer for a typical “I’m the man; therefore, I’m the boss” type husband. The one support she seemed to be getting was from the bible she clutched in her hand.
Detective Tanner got straight to the point right after we stepped through the door. He immediately started talking to Mr. Boyer and jotting down additional information. Sometimes, I thought, he came across as callous, but I guessed it came with the job. Nobody would want a softie detective working their case, but there should be some type of balance.
The detective began explaining my involvement when Mr. Boyer’s eyes snapped up and glared at him. Then with a quick jerk, his eyes scowled at me, for a couple of seconds before landing back on the detective. His expression shifted from a somber one to anger. I couldn’t understand what the detective said to cause that sudden change.
The moment after mentioning the possibility of envisioning where Ryan could be, he leaped forward and immediately starting yelling, “Get that witch out of here. I don’t want any kind of black magic performed in this house.”
“Mr. Boyer, I assure you Heather is no witch. She doesn’t perform anything ritualistic. She has a special gift that allows her to see things beyond the norm. She is the reason we have our single lead,” Detective Tanner quickly said, coming to my defense.
I stood there numb from shock. Of all the hushed whispers and backlash I received back home, not once had I ever been called a witch. The thought never even crossed my mind, and I wondered how he drew that conclusion. Afraid to move, I watched Mr. Boyer pace back and forth as he continued his rant.
“I don’t care what you call her. Anyone who possesses those types of powers isn’t welcomed here. That’s the devil’s work and we won’t have any part of it.”
“Mr. Boyer…”
“No,” he yelled as he turned and glared at me. His eyes, boring into mine, were venomous. “Get out of here,” he continued to demand.
I stared at him in disbelief and then turned to leave. I didn’t get far before his wife spoke up.
“Richard,” she screamed. “Let her try…If it has any chance of helping…I’d sell my soul to the devil himself; I swear…” Her voice broke as she began to sob.
“Judith, I don’t…”
“Richard,” she pleaded, interrupting his rant. “Let her try.”
Mr. Boyer’s face morphed into complete shock mixed with rage. Guessing Mrs. Boyer didn’t speak out too often, I wasn’t surprised he seemed completely appalled by her outburst. What surprised me was his rejection of my help.
If it had been my son missing, I’d go to any length to find him.
He opened his mouth as if to speak, but quickly closed it before storming out of the room. Mrs. Boyer broke out into sobs, clutching the bible tight to her chest.
Not quite sure what I should do, I thought maybe it would be best if I just did what he wanted and leave. As I inched my way toward the door, Detective Tanner motioned for me to stop, whispering to wait a minute. I froze in place, afraid to move again, wishing for some small miracle to get me out of that never–ending nightmare.
Physically and emotionally drained, all I wanted was to go home and sleep. My bed sounded so good to me right now. With one glance at Mrs. Boyer, guilt sprung forward making me ashamed of my thoughts. I had the luxury of going home, but her little boy didn’t. Acknowledging that put it into perspective, reminding me as to why I was here. With a new determination, I was going to help whether they wanted me to or not.
Immediately, I started searching for something that could have belonged to Ryan, something he would have treasured. There just wasn’t anything lying around for me to find, their house was extremely tidy. The hallway probably led to his bedroom, which I thought would be a good place to start. Not sure where my boldness came from, but nobody, not even Mr. Boyer, was going to stop me from helping that boy. Taking a couple of steps toward the hallway, I glanced once again toward Mrs. Boyer when I spotted a ragged, tan leg.
Coming to a halt, I paused before moving closer in hopes to get a better view. My suspicions were confirmed—the leg belonged to a stuffed, bunny rabbit. Elation sprung up for I knew that had to be one of his favorite toys. The material was far to worn for it not to be. The velveteen had lost its sheen and was matted in areas where the stains had been too much. Staring at it, I knew it was exactly what I was searching for.
“Mrs. Boyer…Is that bunny one of Ryan’s toys?” I asked as gently as I could.
Tear streaked eyes swept toward me while slowly picking the toy up. “Yes, it’s his favorite,” she whispered. With a pained expression, she glanced back down at the toy. A sob erupted before she added, “They found it lying next to his book bag on the…sidewalk.” She could barely speak, she was shaking so badly.
It was excruciating listening to her anguish, knowing she had every right to be worried. If Ryan was with Mr. Barton, my mind couldn’t even fathom what he was going through. Other than incurring the vision, I had no idea how to console her.
My head turned as the detective came over and kneeled beside her. While staring at her, he spoke softly. “Mrs. Boyer, we will try everything we can to bring your boy back safely. Okay?”
She closed her eyes, barely nodding.
“One thing we want to attempt is to have Heather try to see where Ryan is. She has a real talent for this sort of thing. Do you think she could hold the rabbit?” he asked.
With a slight hesitation, she lifted her head toward me asking, “Would you like to see it?”
While making sure there was plenty of space between us, I sat down beside her, slowly extending my hand. “Please, if I may.”
As she handed me Ryan’s toy, I closed my eyes. My fingers felt the rough edges of the matted velveteen as I squeezed my fingers around it. The image of a blond, curly haired boy came into focus…
Walking along the sidewalk, with his book bag on his back, he glanced hesitantly at a blue van parked along the street. It was the same van he saw yesterday parked in that exact spot. He thought it was strange seeing it again because it’s never been parked in that area before.
With a quick dismissal of the thought, he began to slow his pace as a wave of fear passed through him. He was walking by a two story house with a black wrought–iron fence in front of it. He stalled for a minute as he stared at the house. His gaze lingered on the high peaks and angled windows as if they scared him. The house was intimidating, and looked like it belonged in a scary movie set.
My body jerked as it became difficult to breathe. Cuddled in the backseat of the van, he labored for his breath as fear overpowered him. Tears streamed down his face while confusion swirled around his brain, wondering what was happening. His mouth hurt from the duct tape over it, but he couldn’t pull it off because he was tied up with a rope.
As he lay there frightened, he sought solace from the flashing lights passing by. They were pretty. It occurred to me they were taillights from ac
ross the way. He turned towards the front, but quickly looked away. The sun sat low in the sky, blinding him. While continuing to watch the red flashes, the lights of the city faded behind him… As I snapped back to reality, I figured out he was on a busy road like an interstate.
When I reopened my eyes, I quickly said, “He was kidnapped in front of a two story house with a wrought–iron fence in front of it. There was a blue van parked along the curb.” I glanced at the detective and said, “Like the one Mr. Barton drives.” Pausing for a second, I continued, “He wasn’t concerned about the van because he was too scared of the house. He’s still alive, but they’re heading away from here. They’re on a split road like an interstate.”
Mrs. Boyer let out a gasp as Detective Tanner came over and asked in his serious tone, “Do you have any further details about the surroundings?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember anything important before adding, “The city lights were fading. I can’t see much from the backseat, but I’m on the driver’s side watching them grow dim. The sun is too bright when he looks forward, so he keeps staring behind him. There are taillights from the other lanes of traffic that I could also see.”
“Okay…They’re probably heading west,” he mumbled as he darted out to his car.
Standing up, I peered over at Mrs. Boyer, who was staring at me with widened eyes. “You could see him? He’s…He’s alive?” she managed to choke out.
As I peered into her eyes, my own started to glisten. The last thing I wanted to do was give her false hope, so I stated my next sentence carefully. “It’s not an exact science, but yes, I did see him alive.”
I left out the fact that he was bound and gagged, which made me feel guilty, but she didn’t need to know that part. No mother wanted to hear that, especially about their own child.
Somehow managing a weak smile, she thanked me as I got up to leave. I hoped we would find him still alive because nobody deserved to suffer that type of anguish.
Knowing that Johnny was kept alive for a while before Barton killed him gave me hope, but I wasn’t sure if this time would be the same. I hoped they’d be able to stop him before he could do any more harm to Ryan.
As I walked out the door, I thought about Mr. Boyer again. It seemed strange that he never reappeared; however, I was glad because he would have been in the way. Maybe if he was reunited with his son, he’d view what I could do differently. Part of me didn’t believe that, but I was glad to at least help Mrs. Boyer and most importantly, Ryan.
I worried about her, though, because if it ended badly, I wasn’t sure what type of support she’d receive from her husband.
As I got into the car, Detective Tanner was already calling in the possible location of Ryan’s whereabouts while I waited patiently as I could for him to finish. Wanting so badly to find that creep, I hoped they’d be able to stop him and quick.
It was hard just sitting there waiting for the detective to finish. Feeling Ryan’s fear and confusion outraged me. We had to find him.
“Okay, they have the state police on the interstate covering the exits,” he said as soon as he was done. “We’re going to get him.” Pausing before shifting the car into drive, he stared at me for a moment before saying, “Don’t let Mr. Boyer get to you. People say hateful things when they're under distress. I’m sure he doesn’t mean it.”
With a shrug, I replied, “Thanks, I’m kind of used to being treated like a social outcast.”
“Well, it doesn’t make it right. Besides, how can it be the work of the devil, when you’re clearly helping to put evil people away?”
With a slight nod, I smiled tentatively, wondering if he was right. He remained quiet as we sped away toward some country roads I assumed would eventually intersect with the interstate.
As the scenery flashed before me, I wondered how many people were going to treat me differently after tonight. My guess was everyone, with the exception of Barry and Nicole.
My abilities would definitely be known since hiding them were no longer an option, but it didn’t matter. What mattered most was finding Ryan, but the fact tomorrow was Saturday instead of a school day didn’t hurt. At least this way, everyone would have a couple of days to absorb the shock.
“We have the suspect spotted at mile marker 140 heading west on I–70. All units proceed with caution, suspect considered armed and dangerous.” The screech of the radio rang through, breaking my train of thought.
My heart began to race when the detective immediately flipped on the overhead lights and sirens. The wailing of the sirens alone was enough to get my adrenaline pumping, but watching the flashing red and blue colors dance around us in a circle as he sped to unimaginable speeds was exhilarating. The countryside flashed by so quickly, the scenery became a blur. The thrilling mix of excitement and fear pulsated through me as I grabbed the armrest, hanging on for dear life. For the first time in my life, I was grateful to be wearing a seatbelt.
As we raced through the country roads, I let out a sigh of relief when the interstate came into view. Slowing down to merge onto the on ramp, the dispatcher announced they had the suspect in sight and started closing in on him. It was hard to breathe, fearing for Ryan’s safety. I wasn’t sure how far away we were, but I knew it wouldn’t be too much longer until Mr. Barton was brought down.
~16~
Negotiations
As we zipped along the interstate, I noticed the mile marker 135 sticking alongside the road. Breathing a sigh, I knew we weren’t too far away. The dispatcher had come across the radio announcing they had the suspect stopped between 129 and 130. I wasn’t sure how many minutes that calculated too since I was unaware of the speed we were traveling. Due to the other vehicles on the interstate, the detective did have to decrease his pace. At least a little.
I had to admit, I felt a little superior sitting in the squad car, watching people pull over as we passed them. Never having been in that situation before, it was a little intoxicating. I could see why some police officers developed a God complex when they were in that position—it was rather empowering.
With less than two miles to go, we shifted onto the shoulder since the traffic was stopped along the interstate. Each vehicle we passed marked the closeness of our arrival while the anticipation of what I was about to witness spiked my adrenaline.
When we approached the scene, lights from the emergency response vehicles flashed all around. The amount of responders was intimidating. There had to be at least twenty or more vehicles, which more than doubled the amount on my street earlier. Everyone from state troopers and county sheriffs to ambulances and fire trucks were there. By the time we arrived, they had surrounded Mr. Barton’s van which was slanted along the embankment.
Pulling up behind one of the parked squad cars, the detective ordered me to stay in the car. As he quickly stepped out, my breath caught, staring wide–eyed at the sight of him drawing his gun. With a clear picture of the pistol in his hand, the reality of the situation brought it into prospective. I knew the situation was serious, obviously, but seeing it unfold right in front of me was surreal.
At that point, I wasn’t sure what was going on. The radio buzzed with different codes, but I didn’t understand what they meant. All I could gather was they had him pulled over, and he wasn’t cooperating. He seemed to be holding Ryan hostage, which I found odd because he had to know it wouldn’t end in his favor. How could it? He was completely surrounded by the police.
Even though the situation was far from over, I couldn’t help but think the irony of the circumstances. For a little boy to have to go through that was a horrible thing, but also bitter sweet. If he hadn’t taken Ryan, then no one would have been searching for him and he may have gotten away. The police certainly wouldn’t have beefed up their search for him, and if it wasn’t for Ryan’s toy, I wouldn’t have been able to see where he was. Barton could have settled in the next state, terrorizing another child.
Laying my head against the headrest, I cl
osed my eyes while thoughts of Barry infiltrated my mind. It seemed so long ago since we were all together. Much has happened since, and I wondered what he and Nicole were doing.
Nicole was supposed to spend the night with me, but I bet she was with him at his grandmother’s house. So much for my first sleepover. They were probably wondering about us, too. I needed to call them with an update soon.
Upon reopening my eyes, I strained to see if there was any useful information to pass along. The troopers were positioned with their guns pointed toward Mr. Barton’s van while a suited guy was apparently trying to negotiate with him. Rolling my window down to try to hear the words exchanged were pointless since I was back too far. I couldn’t understand anything they were saying, but I could tell the negotiations were ongoing.
Giving up on the idea, I pulled out my phone to call Barry. Glancing down to dial, I noticed a missed text from him. I guess with all the excitement going on, I failed to hear the message alert. It simply stated, “Call us with an update soon. Be careful.” Smiling to myself, I dialed his number.
“Heather, thank goodness. We’ve been worried. What’s going on?” he asked, a little frenzied.
As I proceeded to fill him in on the limited details, I slid back down into my seat, silently wishing this nightmare to end. After explaining everything I knew, he proceeded to tell me they were still exhuming Johnny’s body.
He also informed me that Mom had come home, but he was able to explain everything to her. No surprise, it came as a shock to see the emergency vehicles surrounding our house, but he explained the situation before she panicked. Nicole refused to leave until she knew I was safe and, as I suspected, was with Barry. My body relaxed, listening to his smooth voice. It was mesmerizing. As he continued explaining, my eyes closed, allowing his voice to calm me down. Just as my breathing evened out, a loud popping sound erupted through the air. I jolted straight up, dropping the phone into my lap. My relaxed state a forgotten diversion.
Visions: The Mystical Encounter Series (The Mystical Encounter Series Book 1) Page 12
