by Laurel Dewey
It was going to take Jane awhile to get used to that moniker. “Yeah.” Jane turned to the two-way mirror and stared at the woman seated alone at the tiny metal table. Her long brown hair, narrow face, penetrating hazel eyes, and thin frame matched the girl in the photo. She may have been fourteen years older, but she still had the same irrepressible attitude that bled through the snapshot. Jane immediately liked her.
“She hasn’t got a record,” the detective declared. “She admits the car is in her boyfriend’s name but says she didn’t steal it; just took it to get away from him. Claims the five grand is hers. Said she was tired of his abuse and feared for her kid’s life.”
Jane’s interest sparked. “Her kid?”
“Yeah. A girl. She’s down the hall with an officer.”
Jane studied Mary’s face. Maybe she did leave home because of the baby. She’d be around fourteen. Dr. Bartosh had a granddaughter and didn’t even know it.
“Can I ask why you’re interested in this woman? Your jurisdiction is in Denver?”
Jane turned to the detective. “She’s a piece of a very complicated puzzle.” Jane noted Mary’s increasing edginess. “I’d like to talk to her privately.”
The detective shrugged. “I’ll take lunch,” he said, walking out of the room.
No sooner did Jane enter the interrogation room than Mary stood up. She was dressed in old jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and a ratty sweater.
“Who the fuck are you?” Mary yelled with a nervous edge.
Jane extended her hand, undaunted. “Jane Perry.”
“Where’s my daughter?” Mary intolerantly asked, ignoring Jane’s gesture.
“She’s being well taken care of by an officer down the hall. Why don’t you have a seat?” Jane sat down across from Mary.
“I want my daughter!” Mary stood defiantly, looking down at Jane.
“She’s okay,” Jane assured her.
“She’s too young to be alone! If you don’t bring her to me, I’m not saying a fuckin’ word to you!”
Mary was everything Jane thought she would be and more. “I’d rather she didn’t hear a lot of the stuff I need to ask you.”
Mary regarded Jane with a baffled look. “What are you talkin’ about? She won’t understand any of it! Stop fuckin’ around and bring her to me?”
It was Jane’s turn to look perplexed. Why wouldn’t a fourteen-year-old understand? “Okay,” Jane agreed, getting up. She asked a passing officer in the hallway if he could get Mary’s daughter. Returning to her seat, Jane pulled out her pack of cigarettes, offering one to Mary.
“I don’t smoke anymore,” she said with steel resolve. “Besides, there’s signs all over this place sayin’ you can’t smoke inside.”
Jane glanced at the no smoking sign on the wall. “Who pays attention to signs?” she said with a shrug, knocking a cigarette out of the pack for herself.
“I do!”
For a moment, it was unclear which one of these women was in law enforcement. Jane slid the cigarette back into the pack. She noticed a tattoo of two words burned across Mary’s right wrist. “Carpe Diem?”
“What about it?” Mary retorted with an angry edge.
“Seize the day. It’s not your typical tattoo.”
“Right. White trash like me should have a fuckin’ tat of a black widow spider or a red rose next to my pierced nipples. Is that what you’re sayin’?”
The door opened. Jane turned to see the officer carrying in a baby no more than nine months old. “Here you go, ma’am.”
Mary melted into a flood of tears as she quickly got up and cradled her daughter. “Oh, Christina! Mommy was so worried about you!” She sat down, offering her index finger to the girl, who happily sucked on it.
Jane sat dumbfounded. “Wait a second. Is that your only kid?”
“Yes,” Mary replied. “What’s it to you?”
“Your name is Mary Rose Bartosh. You’re thirty-one. Your father’s name is Dr. John Bartosh and your mother’s name is Ingrid. You grew up in Big Sur, California, and beat feet out of town fourteen years ago.”
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Mary replied evasively.
Jane opened her satchel and whipped out the photograph of Mary taken at Pico Blanco. Slapping the photo on the table, Jane pointed to the lanky girl at the edge of the photo. “Is that you?” Jane asked with an intimidating tone.
An emotional paralysis took over Mary as she fixated on the photo. “Where did you get that?” she whispered.
“It was tacked up on a photo board in your parents’ house.”
“What’s goin’ on here?” Mary said with trepidation. “I thought I was in here ’cause they think I was driving a stolen car... which I wasn’t—” Mary suddenly looked like a deer in the headlights. “Shit! Are they gonna walk through that door?”
“They’re not outside,” Jane said. “They’re sitting in Grand Junction as we speak.”
“Colorado?” Mary asked incredulously.
“Yeah. Got a new Lamb of God Congregation going there.”
Mary was visibly staggered. “My mother hates snow.” She let the information settle. “How long have they been there?”
“I’m not sure. Couple years.” Mary continued to try to make sense of what she had just heard. “You want to know how they’re doing?” Mary shrugged. “Your father’s still the same old religious blowhard. Age hasn’t slowed him down. Your mother’s still sweet, dutiful, caring—”
“Weak,” Mary quietly interjected.
“She misses you terribly. She thinks that you call the house and stay on the line without saying anything before hanging up.”
“I’ve never called,” Mary honestly replied softly.
“It makes her feel good to think you do. It makes her feel good to think you’re trying to get in contact with them, even on the Internet.”
“I don’t have a computer.” Mary pulled herself together. “Look, am I bein’ arrested ’cause my boyfriend reported the car stolen? ’Cause that’s all bullshit. I work more than that asshole does. My waitress money paid for that car. I just went along and didn’t put my name on the registration. I should have, but old patterns die hard.”
“Old patterns of doing what you’re told?”
Mary stared at Jane as if she were psychic. “Yeah. But I’m workin’ to change all that! That’s why I got this tat!” Mary held up her right wrist. “I wanted to always remember to seize the day! I bought some Tony Robbins tapes when I was pregnant. They’re all about awakenin’ the giant within yourself. I quit smokin’ cold turkey. Decided I didn’t want a cigarette havin’ that kind of control over me.” Mary started to choke up. “It probably sounds corny to someone like you who’s got her shit together. But it worked. I got my courage up. I started sneakin’ my tip money away in a jar. That bastard wasn’t gonna beat on me any longer, and he sure as hell wasn’t gonna touch Christina! I knew I needed five grand to make it on my own. Once I had the money, I split. I swear that’s the truth! I may be white trash to you, but I wasn’t raised to steal!”
“Mary, I don’t think you’re white trash. I think you’re one of the most resilient people I’ve ever met. And I know you weren’t raised to steal. You were raised in a place that couldn’t hold you. And the tighter they tried to shove you in their Godly box, the harder you kicked until you finally said ‘Enough’ and left.”
Mary’s mind drifted. “It was a little more complicated than that—”
“You got pregnant.”
Mary looked at Jane in shock. “Fuck! How did you know that?”
“Your mother told me she found a positive home pregnancy test in the trash.”
Mary’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my God! She knew?” Mary sat back, shaking her head. “Oh my God....”
“What happened to the baby?” Jane asked with uncommon restraint.
Mary rocked Christina, her mind traveling to dark places. She shifted her eyes away from Jane with a shameful gaze. “Th
is is my worst fucking nightmare.”
“You got pregnant. Everybody makes mistakes when they’re younger.”
“It wasn’t my mistake!” Mary recoiled, taking a moment to sort through her thoughts. “Look, part of taking back my power is not allowing my past to dictate my future.”
“It looks like your past is still affecting how you operate. You can empower yourself all you want. But I think whatever happened back then still drives you.”
“There’s no point in rehashing it—”
“You can’t pretend away your past.”
Mary dissolved into tears. “I always get stuck at this point. It’s so...hard, you know?” She looked at Jane like a terrified child.
Jane dropped the cop attitude. “Yeah. I do know.”
Mary began to shake. “I’ve never told anybody what happened. I couldn’t. I called a cop once. But I was so scared. I told him about these two girls who got raped, but he wanted me to come down to the station and write it out. I told him to fuck himself and hung up.”
Jane instantly made the connection. It was Mary Bartosh who had frantically called Detective Charles Sawyer fourteen years ago. “You know for a fact that two girls got raped?”
“Yeah, and don’t ask me why I didn’t do somethin’ about it! I tried! God knows I tried! But I wasn’t ready to die for tellin’ what I knew!”
“Die?”
“Look, I’ve got a fresh start now. I’ve got $5,000. I’ve got Christina. And I’m going someplace where nobody knows me and where I’ll be safe.”
“Safe from your boyfriend?”
“Yeah....” Mary replied with an unresolved tone.
“Who else?”
Mary wrapped a hard wall around herself. “I’m not telling you any more!”
“Goddammit, Mary! You want me to stick you in jail!”
Mary let out a contemptuous laugh. “Oh, I get it! ‘Fuck you, Mary! Do my bidding or I’m gonna put your ass in jail on some trumped up car theft charge!’ Well, you know what? Fuck you! I’ve done everybody’s bidding but my own for my entire life. I swore when I left Seattle that I was startin’ fresh and livin’ life on my own terms. And I’m holding to it. I’m not making any deals with you! My life is not a fucking deal anymore! I’ve got a little girl to protect now!”
“Who are you afraid of, Mary?” Mary didn’t budge. Jane jabbed her index finger onto the photo. “Is that who you’re afraid of? Is that who’s got a hold of your head?”
Mary briefly looked at Lou’s smiling countenance. “No....”
Jane heard the lie reverberate across the tiny room. “You found out he’s free on bond, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mary said, skirting her eyes to the left.
“And you’re sure he’s gonna go free because assholes like him have better luck than you and me.” Jane sorted through her satchel. “You think that if you tell me something about what he did fourteen years ago to a little brunette, hazel-eyed girl named Ashlee....” Jane pushed the snapshot of Ashlee and Kit toward Mary, “something bad will happen to you or, maybe, your little hazel-eyed girl.”
Mary’s fear dissolved. “If he went anywhere near her, I’d kill him.” She glanced down at Ashlee’s photo and turned it over. Jane started to turn the photo upright when Mary laid her shaking hand on Jane’s arm. “Don’t...please.”
Jane sat back. “How long did you know Ashlee?”
Mary rocked Christina. “Not long.”
“How long did you know Lou?”
“Too long.” She turned away, a mournful sob gripping her throat. “I wanted to save her. But I was too scared.”
“You knew Lou had her?”
“Don’t hate me. I already hate myself enough for what I didn’t do.”
“Mary, listen to me,” Jane said gravely. “Lou kidnapped another little girl. She’s twelve. He’s still got her...somewhere. Every minute counts, because since he killed Ashlee on day fourteen, I’m assuming he’s gonna kill this little girl on day twelve. That’s tomorrow.”
“My God.... I don’t get it.... Why—”
“I’m sure you heard him talk about his ‘Power of Fourteen’ theory back then, right?”
Mary furrowed her brow. “What?”
“‘The Power of Fourteen’? When a girl or boy turns fourteen, it signifies a pivotal moment in his or her development. The kid is highly impressionable and can be easily—”
“Molded spiritually, mentally, physically, and emotionally,” Mary said, as if reciting an old proverb. “Whatever occurs in your fourteenth year defines who you will become as an adult.”
“How’d you know that?”
“Because I heard it almost every day of my life from my father. ‘The Power of Fourteen’ was his theory!” Jane sat back, speechless. “That’s so fuckin’ typical of Lou. He’s such a poser. If you can’t think for yourself, let somebody else fill your mouth with words.” Mary thought for a moment. “My dad was fond of a lot of sayings. ‘We need to ratchet up our ministry to a new level.’ God, I heard that one constantly! And then there was ‘Redemption only comes through intervention.’ That was a big one. He’d say, ‘Those who are evil need to experience a deep, one-on-one intervention that shows the evil one what he or she is setting themselves up for.’ It was just mindless words to me, but it jacked up his Congregation. It made them want to go out and force their narrow-minded views onto the world! Remember, Armageddon was starin’ us in the face! You had to save as many people as you could so they could be taken up by Jesus in the Rapture.” Mary stared at the photo from Pico Blanco. “We’d be at Pico Blanco, in the cabin, talkin’ about God in our little Christian circle. And Lou would start talkin’ about all this stuff that my dad had said during a sermon. But he always twisted it. He’s like a...what’s that word? Fanatic. Yeah. Fanatic. He always took what he heard literally . He memorized whole chapters. Isaiah and Matthew were his favorites. He’d recite the chapters to us like he’d written the words himself. It was fuckin’ weird. Then he’d make these connections that were just so out there.”
“Give me an example.”
“Apples.”
“Apples?”
“Because Eve ate the apple, Lou said God was telling us it was sinful. So, that meant that if you craved an apple, you were purposely allowing yourself to be tempted by the Devil. He’d get seriously pissed if somebody showed up at camp with an apple. I mean, he’d just flip out! One minute he’s fine, and the next he’s a fuckin’ crazy person.”
“Why didn’t his actions disturb other people?”
“Most of the girls were in love with him. He looked like a movie star. A lot of girls let shit slide that they shouldn’t let slide when they like a guy—”
“You said ‘most of the girls?’”
“Karen and Annette figured out real quick what kind of a guy he really was.”
“Are those the two girls he raped?”
Mary nodded and then realized the link. “They were fourteen when it happened!”
“How did you find out about them?”
“They told me. Maybe they figured I could do something because of who my dad was. But I told them my dad wouldn’t believe me if I told him because, as far as he was concerned, Lou was perfect. Lou lived with us off and on so I knew him real well. Got to watch how he and my dad interacted. My dad was so fuckin’ blind. He always defended Lou and protected him. Lou brings that out in people. They find out about his childhood and they want to help him.”
Jane thought how perfectly both Kit and Rachel fit that description. “You knew about his childhood?”
“All I know is his mother sat at the right hand of Lucifer,” Mary said, sarcastically repeating what she’d been told. “So I guess she was fucked up.” She arched an eyebrow. “I don’t know what happened to Lou, but I do know that he used whatever happened to make my dad feel for him. And it worked. Dad treated Lou better than anyone else in our household. He was the Golden Boy. ‘He came from
hell but he preached about heaven.’ Lou did whatever my dad asked him to do. He was everything my dad wanted in me but couldn’t get. Lou was sent from God and I was going to hell because I questioned everything.”
“Why didn’t Karen and Annette’s parents press charges?”
“The girls never told their parents what happened. They knew nobody would believe them. Especially members of The Brotherhood Council.”
“The girls’ fathers were in The Brotherhood Council?”
“Yeah.” Mary’s eyes drifted to the Pico Blanco photo.
Jane observed Mary. “Is that Karen and Annette?” Jane asked, pointing to the two sad girls in the front row. Mary nodded. “Which one’s the Kapp’s daughter?”
“Karen,” Mary replied with a wistful tone.
“Lou lived with the Kapp family, didn’t he?”
“Yeah. He stayed with Annette’s family too. He raped them when he lived with them. I don’t know what Annette did to make him do it. But all Karen did was eat one apple too many. She had to be taught a lesson, I guess.”
“Is there any way I can get in contact with these girls?”
“Annette moved away years ago. Karen killed herself. Overdosed on pills. I found her obituary when I was in the Seattle library and readin’ the hometown paper.”
Jane sat back. “How did you know Lou took Ashlee?”
Mary braced herself before allowing the memories to flood back. “I’d only met Ashlee a couple times. She was with her grandmother. I’d see them down by the beach collecting seashells. Ashlee would throw off her shoes and run into the water and laugh this great laugh. I remember thinkin’ how amazing it must be to feel that kind of freedom. She was so innocent, though. She was perfect prey for Lou. When I found out Lou was livin’ in their guesthouse, I got this real sick feelin’ in my stomach.”
“Why?”
“I knew he was plannin’ somethin’.”
“How?”
“My dad had been talkin’ a lot about sacrifice in his sermons. He’d say ‘You have to feel the power of sacrifice in order to get closer to God.’ Then he’d talk about how we’re in the fight for our final redemption and if we lose the fight, the hammer of God will fall. He was always preachin’ about saving children from Lucifer. ‘Redemption only comes through a deep, one-on-one intervention.’ ‘We have to ratchet up our Ministry to a new level.’ Lou would hear all that and he’d repeat it to us over and over at Pico Blanco. I’d listen to him and I just felt like he was gettin’ ready to go on his own weird crusade. I think he wanted to put my dad’s words to the test. But in order to do that, he needed to find the perfect child who he thought needed deep, one-on-one intervention. Then Ashlee went missing, and I knew he took her. I didn’t know where he took her. For two weeks when she was gone, I wracked my brain tryin’ to figure out what to do. But it was hard to prove he did it when he was makin’ a point to hang around town and act normal the whole time.” Mary held Christina tighter to her chest. “So I figured if I can’t go to somebody and report it, I’d go to the source.”
