Level Five

by Carla Cassidy

  There was nothing but the noise of papers falling and she rode the crest of a wave like a surfer, desperate not to get sucked under the water.

  Dust flew, darkening the room. Pain in her ribs, in her shoulder and then silence. She coughed, nearly choking on the dust that hung just above where she lay…alive.

  A sweet euphoria filled her. She’d done it. She was alive and he was someplace dead at the bottom of the mountain. Slowly moving her arms and then her legs to check for damage, she sat up and gazed around.

  Why didn’t she see sunlight streaming in through windows? Why didn’t she see windows at all? In horror she realized the mounds of paper where she sat were so high they covered the windows and the door she’d intended to be her exit.

  A giggle bubbled out of her lips at the irony. She’d totally misjudged the amount of paper in the room and what would happen when it all came tumbling down.

  The giggle turned into a full blown burst of laughter, hysterical laughter. She couldn’t control it. She laughed so hard she wheezed, knowing that in the laughter was more than a strain of insanity.

  As weak as she was it would take her days…weeks to attempt to clear a window or the door. She didn’t have days or weeks. Her laughter rose once again.

  She’d done it. She’d done it alright. She’d killed the bad guy. Unfortunately in doing so she’d trapped herself in to a windowless, doorless prison, assuring herself not a swift painful death, but a slow, agonizing one.

  Chapter 31

  Susan Springer was pissed.

  As she got into her car Monday after work she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so angry. She’d tried to give Anthony the benefit of the doubt even though it had been nearly two weeks since they’d done anything together.

  He’d continued to be slightly flirtatious with her at work, always with a promise of getting together soon, but she was tired of waiting for soon. He’d been downright rude to her today when she’d tentatively broached him about coming over to her place for dinner one night that week.

  She’d watched him drive off to go home fifteen minutes ago and still she sat in her car, fuming over how he’d dismissed her offer.

  Susan knew she had her issues. Her hips were too big, she talked too much. Sometimes she mothered too much the men she dated. But she had a huge heart. She didn’t deserve to be treated the way Anthony had treated her.

  She wanted her ceramic cookie platter back. He had taken it from her a couple of weeks ago. She wanted an explanation as to why he’d been so hateful. She deserved that.

  Her fingers trembled as she started her engine. She wasn’t going to give herself time to doubt her intentions. She intended to go to his house right now and get her damned dish and confront him.

  She allowed her anger to simmer. She backed out of her parking space and hit the road that would take her to his place. If he had another girlfriend, he should just man up and tell her. That was the right thing to do.

  If he just didn’t care for her anymore, he should just tell her so that she could emotionally move on. Maybe he wasn’t her Prince Charming after all. It was looking more and more like he was just another toad.

  By the time she reached the end of his driveway and saw his car parked in front of the detached garage, some of her anger had cooled.

  She’d bought the ceramic dish from the dollar store and it had no sentimental value. If she never got it back, she wouldn’t really miss it.

  Did she really want to put herself in a position to face him? Give him the opportunity to tell her she was inadequate? That he didn’t like her after all?

  She stared up the lane at his house. Did she really want to put herself through this? Maybe she should just go home, take a hot bubble bath and forget all about Anthony Tomkins.

  She eased past his driveway and then stepped on the brakes. No, she was tired of getting walked on by the men she allowed into her life. She was sick of being too shy to speak her mind.

  Backing up, her heart thudded with a solid sense of purpose. Susan Springer was about to become the woman she wanted to be, a woman who wasn’t afraid to confront the man she believed had done her wrong.

  She wheeled into the long driveway. A new strength flooded through her veins. She felt good. She felt in control for the first time in her life. She’d tell Anthony she wanted back her plate and that he was an asshole.

  She parked her car next to his and got out, noting that the yard was neat and tidy. This close to the house, she could tell that the outside had recently been painted.

  She fought against the wistfulness that attempted to take hold of her. She’d imagined herself here with him. Although the long, deep porch held nothing, it was easy to imagine two chairs there and she and Anthony seated, watching the sun go down.

  Shaking her head, she dispelled the pleasing image. She knew in her heart, in her soul it wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t even sure she wanted it to happen anymore. There had been a look of distaste, a hint of wildness in Anthony’s eyes when he told her he had more important things to do than have dinner with her.

  It wasn’t until she reached the front door that she got the first whiff of something rancid. It was an odor she’d never smelled before. It turned her stomach and brought a touch of nausea.

  Had he placed a bag of trash nearby? What on earth could make that kind of smell? She straightened her shoulders and knocked firmly on the door. It creaked open an inch. She realized the stench was stronger.

  “Anthony?” she called.

  She heard a faint cry from someplace in the house and pushed the door open another couple of inches.

  Her mind couldn’t make sense of what her eyes were seeing, there was a momentary disconnect. As if in a trance, she leaned forward and then realized she’d have to step up six or eight inches to go inside. She took a single step through the doorway and gasped. She covered her nose with her hand.

  She knew by the way the walls rose that she was standing in a foyer, but the foyer had been narrowed to a small path that led back further into the house. On either side of her, boxes were stacked higher than her head. There were trash bags one on top of the other, leaky and filled with God knew what.

  Unable to stop herself, mesmerized in a horrifying way, she took another and then another step into the house. This was Anthony’s secret.

  The stench was unbearable. The items that pressed in around her were too numerous to identify. It overwhelmed her and still she moved forward, seeking some kind of sense to the madness.

  “Anthony?” she called. What she would say to him if he replied? She was appalled, in a stupor of disbelief. Then she heard it, a faint female voice coming from behind a door in front of her.

  “Help me,” the voice cried. “Don’t open the door. Call the police. Please, just get out of here and call the police. Tell them my name is Edie Carpenter and I’m very much alive.”

  Suddenly Susan was afraid. She backed away, stumbling into a pile of crates filled with Christmas decorations, careening into a stack of plastic tubs. She released a scream as cockroaches scurried everywhere.

  When she reached the front door she stepped outside and frantically raked her hands down her sides, through her hair and over her face. “Call the police. Call the police.” She muttered the words over and over to herself as she fumbled in her purse to get her cell phone.

  It took her three attempts to punch in the three numbers that would summon help. As she waited for somebody to arrive she got into her car and locked the door.

  She didn’t know who was inside the house, didn’t know where Anthony might be, but after seeing the inside of where he lived, she didn’t care where he was, didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

  This was sickness…madness. Anthony was ill. She’d seen the shows on television about hoarding, but watching it from the clean safety of her home was different that seeing it in person.

  Edie Carpenter. She remembered seeing a news item about her. She was an author and the police
believed Edie had been kidnapped.

  Tears blurred Susan’s vision as she stared at the house and fought the need to vomit. She realized she’d come precariously close to being in love with a monster.

  Jake heard the squeal of tires in Edie’s driveway. It was just after six and he was surprised to look out the front door and see Teddy motioning him outside. Teddy had only left the house a half an hour before, presumably to go home.

  Jake stepped out on the front porch and Teddy rolled down his window. “Come on. We found her.”

  In those three words all of Jake’s hope, all his despair collided. He froze. We found her. Dead or alive? He could tell nothing from Teddy’s expression.

  He turned and pulled the door closed and then raced to the car. He slid into the passenger seat and only then realized he held his breath.

  “She’s alive,” Teddy said.

  Jake gasped and collapsed against the seat as Teddy spun out of the driveway and headed down the street. “Where?”

  “At a farmhouse outside of town.”

  “How is she?”

  “They haven’t been able to get her out yet.”

  Jake’s stomach clenched tight. “A hostage situation?”

  “No, I can’t quite figure out what the issue is. We’ll know more when we get there.”

  “But you’re sure she’s alive.” Jake’s heart pounded.

  “Positive.” For the first time since Jake had gotten into the car Teddy flashed him a quick smile. “We’ve got cops and medical emergency at the scene.”

  “What about the kidnapper?”

  “Anthony Tompkins. According to the reports I’ve been hearing, he’s dead.”

  So many questions flew through Jake’s head. It was obvious Teddy didn’t have the answers. Was she hurt? Had she fought with her abductor? If it wasn’t some sort of hostage scene, why wasn’t she on her way to a hospital?

  The answers were less clear when they arrived at the scene of the two-story house. A half a dozen patrolmen had set up a relay team on the side of the house. They were unloading newspapers and magazines through a broken window.

  Jake ran to where they were working. The stink hit him like a brick wall in the face. His lunch nearly backed up his throat. He took a step backward.

  One of the guys in blue grinned. “Awful, isn’t it? This guy was a level five.”

  “Level five?” Jake asked.

  “Hoarder. If you think the stink is bad out here, take a step through the front door.”

  “Where’s Edie?” He felt as if he might explode if he didn’t see her in the next half a second.

  The officer gestured through the window. “In here. We should be able to get her out with the next couple of loads.”

  As if his words were magic, a pair of legs appeared through the window. Jake knew those shapely legs. He cried out as he saw the deep discoloration of bruises that darkened her beautiful skin.

  She slid out of the window and stood before them. She was filthy and her jaw was black, one eye swollen and dried blood clung to her lip and ran down the side of her neck. She looked as if she’d been to hell and hadn’t quite made the trip back.

  Time stood still. For a long moment nobody spoke. Nobody moved. Her gaze darted around and finally found Jake. She smiled and raised her chin proudly. “Jake, I did it. I beat him.” And then she fell to the ground unconscious.

  “You can be the teacher,” Francine said. The two sisters were in Francine’s bedroom.

  “Okay, and we’ll set up all our dolls to be the students,” Edie said eagerly. She loved it when Francine played with her.

  For the next few minutes the two girls lined up all the dolls on the bed and Francine crawled into the center of them as Edie stood at the foot, looking stern and teacher-like.

  “Now class,” she began.

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” Francine interrupted.

  “Francine, if you have something to say you have to remember to raise your hand,” Edie exclaimed.

  “But I have to pee,” Francine replied. Suddenly the two sisters were giggling and hugging each other on the bed. When the giggling stopped Francine heaved a sad sigh. “I have to go now.”

  “I don’t want you to go.” Edie tightened her arms around her sister’s shoulders. “We still have lots of games to play.”

  “I can’t play anymore games with you.” Francine stroked Edie’s cheek, her eyes sad. “It’s time for me to go. But, always remember Edie, I love you.”

  Francine touched Edie’s cheek, the soft touch of a loving sister. Then she was gone.

  “No!” Edie screamed.

  And woke up.

  She was in a hospital and she knew the scream must have only been in her head for nobody had come running and the room was silent except for the faint drip of a fluid running into her veins. The faint snoring came from the man asleep on a chair in the corner.

  Jake. In the dim light of the room she watched him sleep, her heart filled with the love she’d never been able to embrace before.

  The fact that he was here…now…told her he was a forever kind of man. As if he sensed her consciousness, he opened his eyes. For a long moment their gazes remained locked, speaking emotions too deep to verbalize.

  “Hi,” he finally said as he scooted his chair closer to her bedside.

  “Hi yourself,” she replied, surprised by the deep rustiness of her voice. “How long have I been here?”

  “Two days.”

  “What’s the damage?”

  “I’m not sure where to start. A broken eardrum, a dislocated shoulder, three broken ribs. You are a mass of bruises and contusions and you were malnourished and dehydrated.” His voice cracked and he reached for her hand. It felt like the only place on her body that didn’t hurt.

  “I’m here,” she said softly. “Did I kill him?”

  “Smashed him like a cockroach,” Jake replied. He squeezed her hand.

  “I wasn’t his first.”

  “We know. We’ve recovered six bodies from a rose garden behind his house. Maggie Black and Kelly Paulsen were two of them. We’re trying to identify the others. I thought I’d lost you, Edie.” His voice trembled. “I thought I’d lost you. Rufus and I don’t know how to live without you.”

  “Rufus is okay?” As Jake nodded Edie began to cry. Tears trekked silently down her cheeks. “That’s how he got me. I looked outside and Rufus was down. I ran to him and that’s when he grabbed me from behind.”

  “He won’t hurt anyone else ever again. We never gave up on you, Edie. Frank and Colette, Lisa and Teddy, we all did everything we could to find you, but he was good at keeping his secrets.”

  Secrets. She’d been good at keeping her own. Those secrets had nearly cost her a chance at true happiness. She pulled her hand from Jake’s. “I have some things I need to tell you.”

  “I know about your father, Edie. I know what you’ve done for him and I know how he’s kept you broken and guilt-ridden about your sister’s death.”

  A shudder of relief worked through her. No more secrets. “I had a lot of time to think. I realized that Greg Bernard victimized me by murdering the sister I loved, but my parents continued to victimize me by blaming me. I wasn’t responsible for my sister’s death. I refuse to be victimized another day longer.”

  “That’s my girl.” His breath was warm as he leaned forward and gently kissed her cheek.

  “Am I still your girl, Jake? If I am, then ask me again.”

  His blue eyes darkened and for a moment she thought he was going to tell her it was too late, that she’d waited too long. He took her hand once again and she felt the tremor of his fingers as they squeezed hers. “I love you, Edie. Will you marry me?”

  “Yes,” she replied without hesitation. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Jake. And we’re going to have babies and build a family and be happy.”

  Jake laughed with unbridled joy. “I’d hug you but I’m afraid I’d hurt you.”

  “We’ll have lots of time
for hugs.” Edie reached and placed her palm on the side of his face. “You know I’m not going to stop writing books.”

  “And I have no intention of not being a Detective,” he replied.

  “I think maybe it’s going to be a wild ride.”

  He grinned. “Then just grab on to me and hold on tight.”

  The wedding took place a week later in the backyard where Edie had been abducted. She’d been determined to change the memory of her beautiful back yard from a bad one into an unforgettable good one.

  Rufus walked her down the makeshift aisle, dancing with happiness at her side. Teddy’s family was in attendance along with Frank and Colette.

  Colette had come to visit Edie in the hospital and the two had shared the horror of their experiences. Colette had confessed about her break down, that she’d feared desire to help other woman by telling her story was nothing but foolishness.

  Edie had assured her that she’d found much of her strength and coping skills from the conversations she’d shared with Colette. The plan was for the two of them to finish their work on the book, and then Edie had her own story to write. It would be the truthful account of a woman who had been a victim for years. Only through her abduction and fear of death had she discovered the survivor inside her.

  She hadn’t bothered to call her mother to tell her about her wedding, nor had her father been invited to the event. Instead, the day before Jake and Edie had given Jimmy an ultimatum. They would pay his rent one more time and then he would be out of the streets. They hoped he would seek treatment. Edie refused to be responsible for his grief, refused to take on the guilt any longer.

  She approached where Jake stood tall and handsome in a black tuxedo next to the minister who served the nearest local church.

  Jake looked nervous, as if he expected her to bolt from the yard and run away at any moment. She wasn’t running anywhere except into his arms.

  There was no question in her mind that Anthony had been a victim of his mother’s neglect, but he and he alone made the choices he’d made, had chosen the path he’d taken as a grown man. That path had led to the murder of six innocent women.