by Leona Fox
Ellen gulped. “He's orchestrating things behind the scenes. You know what it's like being in charge of things. He'll be here later,” she lied.
“I feel better with him around. Somehow when he's here I feel like he'll be able to do the impossible,” she said.
Ellen didn't say anything in reply, for she was afraid this case would break Andy. He barely had managed to recover from the first case. If this one went the same way how would he ever be able to find a way back?
Chapter 7
In a dark room a man looked at the array of tools before him. There were knives, pliers, screwdrivers and a number of other implements resting on a cloth draped over a table. Sunlight shone from a small skylight, illuminating the otherwise dark room. There was a bed in the corner and a pile of books nearby. A pair of glasses rested on the bedside table. The man walked over and picked them up. He pulled a cloth out of his shirt pocket and cleaned them, then placed them on his head.
He was an unremarkable man, one you wouldn't have given a second look if you were to have passed him on the street. He was of average height and had pale skin. His blonde hair was turning to white, and while it may have been lustrous once, it was now thin and wispy; his scalp was visible. Piercing blue eyes rested behind his glasses. He wore a beige shirt that was open at the collar and held within it a slightly rotund body. He moved slowly and deliberately, as though everything was in his control.
He rested on the bed, groaning a little as his knees popped with a cracking sound. When had he become so old? He chuckled to himself. He always had been older than his years and he never paid any mind to his actual age. Birthdays had ceased to have any meaning for him a number of years ago. Now he simply existed as a force of nature, a tool for justice and once his task had been completed there was no need for him to be in the world any longer.
The bed creaked under his weight and he picked up one of the books, leafing through the pages until he reached the passage where he had left off. As soon as his eyes danced over the first few words he heard the boy whimpering. Frowning, he placed the book on the bed and opened the door to the other room, where Scott was shivering. Had he not made sure the boy was warm? He had little sympathy since the boy seemed to be unaware of his part in the larger scheme of things.
“What is wrong now?” the man asked.
The boy's lower lip was trembling and he clutched the pillar as though it were a safe haven. The whimpering stopped, though the boy too afraid to speak.
“Talk to me!” the man yelled, frustrated at himself for raising his voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before he continued.
“Listen to me. I do not want you to be afraid of me. You do not know what I am planning. This is bigger than just you, so stop your whimpering and grow up. There is no time for fear in this world. If you're afraid then people are going to sense it and you are going to suffer for it. You should be stronger, you should fight. Are you nothing but a coward?!” he said, pounding a nearby table with his fist.
A can of food toppled and rolled off the table, landing on the floor with a dull thud. The gesture made Scott cry out in fear.
The boy was looking the worse for wear even though it only had been a couple of days since he had been taken. It only would get worse, the man thought, and he steeled himself against what he had to do.
“Take me home! Please! I want to see my mom!” the boy said. The man closed his eyes and shook his head.
“Be quiet,” he said, but Scott was so afraid he began babbling and repeated the plea.
This only made the man become angrier and angrier until he eventually exploded and his cold, stern voice turned into a burst of venom. It was so loud Scott was stunned into silence.
The man strode before the boy. “You do not understand what I am trying to do here. You are merely a pawn and all you have to do is be quiet. It is that simple and yet you cannot even do that simple task. No wonder the world is crumbling around us if this is an example of the youth upon which the future is founded. Why do you whimper and cry like a little animal? Do you not listen to me? Do you not believe me? Have I done anything to make you distrust me? I have not lied to you and I have not misled you. Everything I have done has been the truth, which is more than I can say for most of the other adults in this world. They always will lie to you. They will tell you that you can do anything you want, that you can be anything you want and the world is a land of opportunity. That is not the case. It's a horrible world, a world where monsters exist and evil wins every time, and good people get punished while those who fail continue to see the light of day. This will not mean much to you now but it will when you are older. If you listen to me your life will be much easier, as you won't have to go through that crushing moment when you realize everything you thought has been a sham.
I'm sure you love your mother and father and you believe in everything they say, as though they have all the answers, but they are just as clueless as the rest. They think they know how to handle things but they do not. And where are they now? I bet your mother is praying for you, praying to a god that doesn't exist like so many people do because they are powerless against this. And do you think you are the only person who ever has been in this situation? You are not the first little boy to be kidnapped and, sadly, you will not be the last. But you need to be an example for others. You could show them that you do not have to be afraid. You sit there, holding onto that pillar as though your life depends upon it but if I chose I could kill you right now. I could make it quick and painless or slow and horrible. I hold the power here, and you think I will let you go just because you cry for your mother? Your youth has ended, little boy; it is now time to either become a man or a coward.”
With that, the man spun on his heels and turned away from Scott, returning to his own room. He slammed the door behind him and pushed the deadbolt closed, glad for some peace. He returned to his book but only read a few more sentences before a smile played upon his lips. He rose and walked over to a desk, upon which sat a typewriter. The man pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and inserted it into the typewriter, enjoying the feeling of the keys under his fingertips. He straightened his back and sighed deeply, a wave of contentment washing over him as he got into character and typed out a message for the policeman. The typewriter keys clacked as his fingers glided over them, and soon enough the paper was being ripped out and folded carefully. Then the man pulled out a fresh envelope out and stuck a stamp on it. The address already had been typed. The man was careful not to give any clues as to his real identity.
He placed the envelope in his pocket and left the building, enjoying the sensation of the fresh summer air around him. He walked into town, smiling and saying hello to people. East Pender was a friendly place. He much preferred it to the city but hated how the policeman had found such a paradise after all he had done. He did not deserve this, and if the man had anything to say about it he would take it all away from him.
The man walked down the main street and passed The Chrome Cafe, smiling a little to himself as he breathed in the scent of fresh coffee. He had spent years preparing for this moment, honing his unremarkable appearance to blend into the background perfectly. People didn't even realize he hadn't been in East Pender for very long. After he mailed the letter he strolled around town, taking great delight in the fact that he knew a secret of which nobody else was aware. The town was buzzing and the tension in the air was palpable. The man followed a cluster of people as they made their way to the base of operations, and he witnessed all of them swarming into the forest in a hopeless search for the boy. They all were stupid. Did they really think he hadn't planned for this? What fools they were. In that moment he despised them. Their ignorance was just as responsible for Scott's disappearance as his own actions of taking the boy. They were too trusting, too willing to let their children run through the woods on their own. It was a recipe for a disaster and they got what they deserved.
He walked up to a woman who seemed to be organizing
everything. She was pretty and blonde, and wore a sparkling ring on her finger. She seemed distracted and it took her a while to notice his presence, but that was exactly what he wanted.
“Sorry, I didn't see you there. I'm Kelly, are you here to help?” she said.
“Of course, I would love to,” the man said, being careful not to reveal his own name.
“I heard what happened and it's so terrible. I only wish my working hours allowed me to help more with the search but I want to give as much time as possible to help out.”
“That's all any of us can do, really.”
“I take it there's been no progress?”
“Unfortunately, yes. We've been combing the forest but you know what it's like, it's a big place and there aren't any clues as yet so we're searching blindly. But eventually we'll find Scott. There are only so many places to look. It's just a matter of time and patience.”
“Yes, that is quite right. I see that a lot of the police are about. Is the chief here as well?”
As he asked the question the man noticed a slight change in Kelly's expression, a flicker of doubt, and this pleased him greatly.
“He's orchestrating things behind the scenes,” she said, and he managed to keep himself from smiling.
“I'm sure he has a lot on his plate,” the man said, and moved away to join in the search.
It pleased him to know the policeman was absent as it meant that his scheme was working. Soon enough it would be time to accelerate plans, and everything was in his control. However, as he joined the search he made a point to avoid looking at the grieving mother for he already had enough on his conscience.
“Who was that?” Ellen asked as she approached Kelly. Kelly shrugged.
“I didn't ask his name.”
The man looked unfamiliar to Ellen but she had other things on her mind and let the thought slip away. There were so many people teeming about that one man didn't seem to make a difference. After her chat with Andrea, Ellen had walked around and talked to a number of other people. While it had quelled her immediate anger toward Andy, they all were asking about him and she hated having to lie for him. She found herself checking her watch and looking toward the road, hoping against hope that Andy and May would come down and he would make everything right again. People were beginning to languish hope. On more than one occasion she overheard people wondering about the futility of it all. They commented that the boy most likely was done for, although they clammed up when they saw Ellen glaring at them. Still, she had to admit she harbored some of the same doubts herself. Yet she never would have given voice to them, especially not in the presence of Andrea. Her only hope was that these people used discretion. Andrea was fragile and it wouldn't take much for her to collapse into despair.
Over time, people returned from searching with heavy looks on their faces. Every time someone emerged from the woods Andrea would look with hope, then sink back into sadness when she saw Scott wasn't with them. Eventually, people came up to Ellen her and took her aside to speak with her privately.
“Ellen, this just isn't working. The woods are too big. There's too much ground to cover and we haven't found any more scraps of clothing or clues. We're roaming about out there not getting anything done. Surely there's got to be a better use of our time? Right now the only way we're going to find Scott is through blind luck,” one man said. Ellen looked at a few other people who were standing around her and saw them nodding in agreement.
“What would you have us do?” she asked.
“I don't know, but I think we need something more aggressive. Can't we do something like before and pretend there's a fire to smoke them out? There has to be something more we can do...but I'm afraid...” At this point he looked around to make sure they were out of Andrea's earshot and then lowered his voice to ensure nobody would overhear him.
“I'm afraid that even if we find the kid it isn't going to be pretty. I just think we should prepare ourselves for that eventuality, and prepare her, too,” he said, tossing his head toward Andrea.
“I understand your feelings but we can't stop now. We have to keep searching. Scott is out there somewhere, still alive. I have to believe that, we all have to believe that. I know it doesn't feel like we're accomplishing anything but if we keep going we'll find him eventually. I don't think there's anything aggressive we can do, at least not yet, not until we know the location of where he's being held.”
“For all we know they may not even be in the woods. We only found the scrap of clothing in there but whomever took Scott could have carried him off anywhere,” someone else said, and this statement was met with audible groans. Ellen stretched out her open palms in an effort to calm everyone down.
“We have put out a notice to people in surrounding towns, so the word is out there. As of yet nobody has spoken up, so my feeling is they're still in East Pender. Our best bet is to keep looking, and if we continue working together then we'll get it done. We've proven that in the past. We all know there's something special about this town. Look at how many people have come together already. We just need to stay the course and trust in ourselves.”
As she said this she noticed that most of the people around her gave assenting nods, but a few still remained skeptical and one of them gave voice to another concern.
“You keep saying we, and that's fine, but where has Andy been in all of this? Everyone has been pulling their weight except for him. I don't know what he's doing but he's not here, and it seems strange to ask us to give up all this time when he hasn't been around.”
“Andy is orchestrating things--” Ellen began.
“’--behind the scenes.’ Yes, we know that,” the man said, finishing Ellen's sentence for her.
“That's all well and good but surely that can't take up all his time? Does he not have an hour to spare when we all know the situation needs as many people as it can get?”
“He will be here soon,” Ellen said. She hating making a promise that could prove to be false but it was the only way she could silence their grievances.
As soon as she was able she returned to Andy's house and found May still speaking to him, still trying to rouse him out of his daze. When Ellen arrived she pulled May aside.
“I thought you said he'd be better by now? People are starting to question his absence. If he doesn't get out there soon then everyone is going to know what's going on and they're going to lose faith in him, and his worst fears are going to come true.”
“I'm sorry Ellen. I thought the same techniques I used back then would work now. Maybe I've lost something or maybe he's changed throughout the years but this repeat of the crime has made him lost. He only sees his obsession again, and I'm not sure that anything I can do will shake him out of it. I think I'll go and talk to the mother of the lost child. At least I may be able to help her,” and she left Andy's house.
At this point Ellen knew that whatever had to be said to Andy, had to be said by her. She was the one who knew him best. She was the one who loved him, and she would be the one who would bring him back.
Chapter 8
Ellen chewed her lip as she looked at Andy. She walked into the room. May had pulled the curtains so the room was filled with bright sunlight and yet Andy didn't seem to care. He was hunched over the letters again, eyes darting from one to the other mumbling incoherently to himself in a manner that only he understood. Ellen tried speaking to him, tried to get through to him, but nothing worked. Even when she walked up to him and physically shook him, he looked straight through her. This most definitely wasn't the man she had fallen in love with.
“I wish it didn't have to be this way. I wish you could have stayed strong, but if I have to be the one to bring you back then I'm going to do it. I don't know if you can hear me or not. Maybe you don't want to hear me. Maybe you don't want to hear anything, but I'm not going to walk out on you. I'm not going to leave you like this. I can't see you like this, Andy. This isn't you and we both know it. Somewhere inside you is the man I know you
can be and I'm going to bring him out of you. This path you're on, it isn't going to help anyone. It certainly isn't going to help you find the kidnapper. I know you think this is the same person as all those years ago but it isn't. May must have told you, he was caught years ago. This is someone else, someone different, and the little boy, it's Scott. You know Scott. You have to pull yourself back for his sake if nothing else. History is not repeating itself here. This is a new story, and you have control over the ending.”
Her words fell on deaf ears. Andy didn't respond to anything she said, so she was forced to leave the office and try finding something that would get through to him. Time was of the essence. Scampy knew that too as he scrambled by her feet. This had been the first true test of her and Andy's relationship. It would have been easy to walk away, to consider him a lost cause and carry on with her life. She understood why Louise had done so years before but Ellen wasn't like that. She had made few attachments throughout her life but she was loyal and dedicated to those she loved, and she did love Andy, with all of her heart. Her anguish regarding his current state only proved that to herself. She couldn't imagine her life without him and she liked to think that if the roles were reversed Andy wouldn't abandon her either. Frantically, she searched for the things she needed, and when she found them she returned to Andy and placed the stack of books on his desk.
The entire collection of his brother's novels stood between the two of them. She began to take them off the top, one by one, and laid them out over the desk, covering the letters. The heavy hardback books were presented as one whole story. The covers were macabre and the titles elicited dread. Bombastic statements declaring the books to be the best thrillers ever were impossible to ignore. Thus, Andy's attention was drawn away from the letters. Ellen took one and began leafing through it, reading random passages out loud.
