by Terri Reed
Faces of everyone she loved loomed in her mind. She could see them in such vivid detail, these people she had to see again, people who made her want to live, but of all the faces, it was Rick’s that stood out the most. I want a chance to know him, to love him. Why was that clear to her now, when she couldn’t act on it? It was too late.
She wondered what Julian planned to do with her. Stephanie curled into a fetal position. She wasn’t afraid of being dead. She had hope. It was the process of dying, and the pain Julian Hale had in store for her, that terrified her the most.
*
The hours it took to drive back to Seattle from Bellingham had been pure torture for both men. They tried to reach her, but after it was clear Stephanie wasn’t answering their calls, Rick and Detective Shelton had taken turns yelling at people through their cell phones. Eventually there was nothing left to do but rely on their friends in Seattle to find Stephanie until they could get there to help. They had settled into a mutual stony silence while Shelton obliterated every speeding law along I-5.
Finally, Shelton had dropped Rick off at the department and the two separated to start the search in their own way. Rick met Terrell at Stephanie’s house.
“Anything?” he asked Terrell as he burst through her door. Terrell shook his head. A lump rose in Rick’s throat at the look of sadness in his friend’s eyes. Rick nodded. “Okay, I’ll start looking in the back.”
Standing in the doorway of Stephanie’s bedroom, Rick choked on a sob, forcing himself to swallow his grief. Her bedroom reminded him of her—feminine and cozy, but clutter-free. A chilly breeze tossed gauzy blue curtains around her open window. He pulled the curtains aside to see that the window had been left open a crack. Had Hale ever been inside her house? Rick knew he had spied on her through the webcam, but he wondered if Hale had ever come inside her home. Nausea rolled at the thought.
They were all fools. And he blamed himself the most. Until he had seen Hale behind bars with his own eyes, he should never have let Stephanie out of his sight. Hale had lulled them all into a false sense of security, and Rick had fallen for it right along with the rest of them. After all of the technology tricks that Hale had pulled off this week, why hadn’t any of them thought that he might still be manipulating them? They had ignored the precedent, and Stephanie had disappeared because of their complacency.
Hale probably hadn’t snatched Stephanie from her house. Val and the kids were the last to see her after she said goodbye to them and left for work, and they had still been here when the school called looking for her. It was more likely that he had picked her up somewhere along her walking route to the school. A girl at a bakery Stephanie had stopped at remembered selling her a bagel, but that was where her trail ended.
Rick leaned against the door frame. Maybe being here was nothing more than his need to feel close to her, but they had no clues yet to work from. They needed to start somewhere, and her room was as good a place to start as any. He stepped across the threshold feeling as if he were entering a sanctuary.
At her desk, Rick riffled through her papers and books, doubting he would find anything helpful, but doing a thorough job of it, anyway. He would never forgive himself if he missed something important. He spotted a scrapbook in the hutch above the desk. He pulled it down and sat down on her bed. Stephanie had hand-lettered the word Liberia across the entire page and then filled in the letters with bright colors and textures. He didn’t know she was so artistic. He mourned for all of the things he didn’t know about her yet. Was she even still alive?
He flipped through the pages, his eyes hungry to find her face. In every picture, the poverty of both the country and the people photographed was evident, but that wasn’t what Rick noticed. Instead, he noticed the beauty and the joy, especially present in the photos that had Stephanie in them. In his favorite picture she smiled wide, dressed in a brightly patterned dress. Her hair was wrapped up in a head scarf, and she leaned against an African woman wearing a matching outfit. The two women were so different yet there was an evident sisterhood between them. Their huge smiles spoke of a love he knew nothing about, a love he wanted to know.
Stephanie! Where are you? How do I find you?
He gasped for air, his own powerlessness suffocating him. It was becoming an all-too-familiar emotion. The first time had been the night he was stabbed and left for dead. His own mortality and lack of control over his life had been so clear as he bled onto the pavement. He had felt the same way on Wednesday listening to Axle’s pain-filled howls by the river, hating how helpless he was to make it better for the dog he loved. And each time Julian Hale had been successful at threatening Stephanie’s safety without being caught, Rick had been humbled. He might wear a gun and a badge, but he wasn’t in charge. He couldn’t control life no matter how much he might want to, and he had absolutely no idea how to save Stephanie now.
He closed the book and tossed it aside onto her bed. Sliding off the bed, he hit his knees. Lord, help.
*
“Home sweet home.” Julian’s voice chimed from the front seat. So it was still Julian with her. She heard the engine turn off.
Stephanie stiffened. This might be her only chance left to slip out of the zip ties and make a run for it. She wiggled and writhed, trying anything to loosen their grip, but nothing worked.
The back passenger door opened next to her head, and she felt the cool air on her face. “Where are you taking me?”
“Now what fun would it be if I told you everything? Let’s see if you can guess.” Amusement edged Julian’s voice as he taunted her.
“I’m tired of your games,” she told him.
“Well, that’s too bad, because the games are only beginning. I’m not done having fun yet,” he said.
His arms slipped under her armpits, yanking hard. Her eyes and arms were useless but she blindly whipped her bound legs around like a mermaid tail, trying to make it as difficult as possible to drag her. He had gotten her into a car, but now that she was outside it, she was fighting back with everything that she could throw at him.
Stephanie screamed, “Help me! Someone help…”
But Julian was prepared. Intense bursts of electricity coursed through her body, paralyzing her. She couldn’t move or speak; she could only feel the pulsing pain.
“You like that?” Julian asked her, the energy level increasing in his voice that had been lacking only moments ago. “That was fifty-thousand volts of electricity. You took it pretty well, Stephanie. I’m impressed.”
She wished for her eyesight so she could anticipate the next shock and prepare herself for the pain that could come again on his next whim. Behind the blindfold she wouldn’t have any warning.
“What was that?” she asked him.
“That, my dear, was a Taser. I’m sure your boyfriend has one on his gun belt.”
Stephanie flung her head in the direction of Julian’s voice, tightening her body to prepare for more pain. “I’m going to leave these barbs attached to you. That means I can fire again anytime I need to. Now,” Julian asked her, “would you like another round of electricity or are you done fighting me?”
“I’m done,” she whimpered.
Julian dragged her tied-up body indoors, her legs bumping over gravel and grass and finally up concrete steps. She heard a door slam behind them before he dumped her onto a soft couch. She strained to hear anything. She inhaled deep breaths through her nose, searching for any scent that might clue her in to where Julian had taken her. Nothing struck her as familiar.
“I’m going to remove the blindfold now, and you will remain calm or I will shock you again, is that understood?”
The agony from the jolts still fresh, Stephanie nodded her agreement. Julian Hale would not take her out without a fight, but for now she didn’t mind avoiding further pain in order to get her sight back. If she could see, she would have all of her senses to help her plan.
She felt Julian’s fleshy fingers cold against her skin as he unwound the fabric.
The blackness receded, but the pressure from the tight blindfold had blurred her vision, making it difficult to get her bearings even with it off. Lights were on, but she sensed it was still daylight, afternoon maybe? She twisted her head around looking for visual cues to where Julian had taken her.
“Where are we?” she asked him.
“You don’t recognize where we are? Interesting…” He stretched the word out as if her ignorance genuinely fascinated him. Her vision was still a little blurry, but from the couch he had tossed her on, she could see a flat-screen TV and a bookshelf. The room was masculine and boring, some kind of bachelor pad. This place needs a woman’s touch.
Julian sat on the ottoman in front of her. His thin ash-blond hair fell in straight bangs that looked like he used a ruler to cut them. She could see his bald scalp through his wide, precise part. Pale hair, washed-out eyes, pallid skin, and monochromatic clothing—Julian Hale’s appearance was as lifeless as his eyes.
“Are you going to tell me where we are?” she asked him again.
“I answered that question outside. If I tell you where we are, what fun would that be?” Julian stood and slapped his thighs. “Well, why don’t you settle in and search for some clues while you wait? I need to have a little chat with your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she yelled at his retreating back.
*
Terrell tapped on the wall of Stephanie’s bedroom. “Hate to interrupt a brother in prayer, but we’ve got something.”
Rick scrambled to his feet. “What did you find?”
“I didn’t find anything, but Julian Hale just called the department claiming responsibility for Stephanie’s disappearance.”
Rick froze. “Did he say where he’s holding her?” If they knew where she was, they might be able to rescue her. Hope swirled in his stomach and chest, wanting him to grab hold.
“No. He didn’t mention location.” Terrell ran a hand across his hair. Now what? “How much experience do you have with hostage negotiation, Rick?”
“None,” Rick answered. “Why?”
Terrell scratched his head. “Better learn quick, because Hale made it clear. He speaks with no one but you.”
NINETEEN
Terrell Watkins and Gary Shelton listened in on another line while Rick grabbed the blinking phone in front of him. “This is Powell.”
“Hello, Rick.”
Rick’s lips stretched into a snarl at the sound of Julian Hale’s arrogant voice. Of all the things Rick wanted to say, a pleasant greeting didn’t appear anywhere on that list.
“Hale,” he finally choked out. He wanted to reach through the phone line and strangle the man, but he had to stay calm and keep Hale talking.
“I assume that you have already searched Stephanie’s house, as well as mine again.” Hale said. “Find anything interesting?”
He’s controlling the conversation.
Rick needed to flip this around, to tip the power back in his direction. He couldn’t allow Hale to continue pulling the puppet strings.
“Let’s skip the small talk and get to your demands,” Rick told him.
“You need a little practice in negotiation, Officer Powell. Aren’t you supposed to be building trust, assuring me you have my best interests at heart?”
Rick huffed. “You and I have too much history between us to be anything but honest. We’ve exchanged bullets, Julian. I think we can skip the pretense of liking each other and move past the chitchat. What do you want?”
Hale chuckled. “This is true,” he agreed. “So, I’ve been waiting patiently. Have you figured out our location yet?”
He’s having fun with this. It is all a big game to him. Rick hated to answer that he didn’t know where Hale and Stephanie were located. The SWAT team was pre-alerted, waiting to hear where to show up. They had been told, “We’ve got something going down but we don’t know where to send you yet. Hang tight.” Nothing in Stephanie’s house had pointed them to her location, and all of their attempts to locate her cell phone had failed because her phone was powered down.
Using enhanced caller ID, dispatch advised that Hale’s call had come in on a prepaid phone without GPS. They were working on figuring out which cell tower he was using.
Rick directed the conversation down a different path, hoping Hale would slip in a clue. “Is Stephanie okay?”
“Are you changing the subject? So, that would be a no, then, you don’t know where we are?” Hale snickered. “I’m disappointed. I thought I made it so easy to find us. Maybe if I stay on the line a bit longer, you’ll trace the call like they do in the movies.”
The yellow pencil Rick had been twirling snapped in two.
Hale’s taunting continued. “Or maybe you’ll be smart enough to find me on your own. I’ll call back in fifteen minutes and see if you’ve made any progress.”
Rick waited for Hale to hang up, but he started to speak again. “Oh, and Rick.”
“Yes.”
“You better hurry. Stephanie’s time is running out.”
*
Stephanie had heard Julian’s threats to Rick. How much time do I have left? Her body began to shake, first in her legs, and then the trembling moved up her spine and then back down to her bound hands. She tried to control the shaking with deep breathing, but she was having a hard time calming the fear.
“Julian?” she whispered. “Why?”
He lunged at her, his pale skin blotchy and his empty eyes bulging. Stephanie flinched from his hot breath so close to her face. Sneering, Julian spoke to her between gritted teeth. “Don’t talk unless spoken to first.”
Anger sparked in his eyes, revealing a sign of life underneath his unnaturally placid exterior. His reaction startled her. It was so unlike Julian to be so passionate about anything. What was it about her question that had aroused his temper? Maybe he didn’t like her using his name.
“I need to understand why this is happening.” Her arms ached from being pinned behind her for so long. “Why me?” she squeaked out.
His face contorted, his fight against an internal storm playing out on his face. She winced. Would he shock her again?
“Why not you, Stephanie? I kill people. That’s what I do. Are you so special you think someone else deserved to die in your place? Who should it be instead? Allison Townsend, perhaps?”
“Wasn’t I kind to you?” Stephanie asked him. “What did I do to you that made you hate me?”
Julian’s face relaxed back into its familiar void-of-emotion expression. “You annoyed me when you slipped away like you did, but if it is any comfort to you, Stephanie, I do not hate you.” He turned his back to her and walked to the bookshelf. He picked up a framed photograph from a shelf. “In fact, in my own way, I highly value you,” he said.
Value me? Enough to take my life away from me?
“You should consider yourself fortunate. The pain I inflict before you die will allow you to feel, to know for certain that you are alive.” He turned his dead eyes back on to her. She recoiled from the sickness she saw in them.
Julian returned his gaze to the photo he held in his hands. He lowered his voice even further. “You won’t believe me when I tell you this, but I will be doing you a favor.”
She choked out a half chuckle, half sob. “I should thank you for killing me?”
“Yes. You should. You won’t have leprosy of the soul like me.”
Leprosy of the soul? What was that supposed to mean? Blood pounded between her ears, making her head ache. Julian’s mind was too twisted for her to follow his train of thought.
He remained silent for several heartbeats. His voice was only a notch above a whisper when he added, “You will die in pain, but you will die loving and being loved.”
Her eyes stung and blurred. She shivered. The desperation of this man chilled her. Her heart lurched with pity at the thought of his emptiness. He’s jealous of me? Of all the things to envy her for, Julian had chosen her ability to give and receive love. Me, t
he abandoned and fatherless, the single woman with no relationship. He had picked the one thing she thought she lacked the most.
The slideshow of faces started to march across her mind again. She saw Terrell and Val and remembered how lost and lonely she had been when she wandered into the junior high youth group they were leading. They had taken her under their wings back then, and all these years later they were still loving her. She saw the faces of Joash and Haddie, and those of the countless people she knew in Liberia. She felt again Axle’s warmth when he guarded her in the hotel stairwell from the bomb. She felt again Rick’s arms around her. All the people she loved and who loved her back. It had never occurred to her before this moment just how rich in love her life was, but a stranger had been able to see it and want it for himself.
“You are loved, too, Julian,” she whispered.
“What do you mean?” His body snapped into a rigid, defensive stance. His eyes narrowed. Currents of hatred sparked off him like the electricity he had shot at her. Stephanie pulled back into the couch as far as she could. “Do you mean by your God, Stephanie? Are you trying to save me?”
Warmth started in her core and radiated through her. It was unexplainable. She sat facing a killer who planned to torture and kill her; she should be terrified, yet strangely she was basking in peace. Cleansing tears flowed unhindered down her cheeks. Julian had given her a gift, the chance to see the truth even if he wouldn’t accept it for himself. A Bible verse Terrell had made her memorize all those years ago in youth group floated to the surface. “The LORD appeared to us in the past, saying: ‘I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.’” She was loved. And so was Julian.
