by Robin Mahle
Colton nearly choked on it and was allowed to wash it down with water from the bathroom sink. Still, it was food and a luxury.
The ten minutes must have flown by because he hadn’t finished it before the man yanked him again by the arm and made him go outside to the truck. That was an hour ago.
He seemed to be slowing down and Colton felt the truck turn right and regain some speed, but not quite as fast as before. Maybe they were getting close to wherever it was he was being taken this time.
Soon, the truck rolled to a stop. The man turned back to him. “Stay here and don’t you even think about moving.”
When the man’s footsteps had gone out of earshot, Colton positioned his arms for leverage and slowly pushed himself up, just until he could see over the extended cab door. He saw a rooftop of a house. The man was walking toward that house. He ducked down, fearing the man would turn back, but soon, he regained his courage and tried again. This time, Colton peered left, then right. Wherever they were, no one else seemed to be around. He spotted a house on the left, but it was very far away. On the right was nothing but fields, that he could see.
This squelched any hope of escape. It became clear that there was no place to run. The man would only have to jump back in the truck and chase after him. He was sure the punishment for such an act would be severe.
Someone opened the door where the man waited. An old woman. She smiled; she must have known him. The two talked and Colton wished he knew what they were saying. For a moment, the old woman’s eyes shifted toward the truck and he dropped down. He froze, fearing she’d seen him. But maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing. He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed her vision might have begun to fail her in her old age because no one came.
He assumed his previous position and waited. That was all he could do and all he had done for days or had it been weeks? Colton was losing track of time.
Moments later, the rear passenger door opened and the man towered over him. “Get up.”
Colton wasted no time. Delays made the man angry. He scrambled to sit upright.
“Come with me and you’d better stay quiet. You understand?”
The man grabbed his arm and Colton winced as it had grown tender from the squeeze he kept on it. Colton was pulled to his feet and followed along beside him. They walked into the house. It was cool inside and sent a chill down Colton’s overheated back. He didn’t see the old woman and wondered where she could be. If he could just see her, maybe she would help him.
Instead, the man led him down the stairs into what appeared to be a basement. It looked like a living room to Colton. A television, a couch, and tables. Old stuff but looked clean. Cleaner than some of the hotels they’d been staying at. He wondered where he would stay. Where was the closet? Would it be dark inside or was there a light? He didn’t ask.
“I don’t want to hear a peep from you, boy. If I do, you’ll sure as shit be sorry. You feel me?”
Colton nodded.
“Good.” The man walked to a door and opened it. “Get in.” He shoved Colton inside.
It was a bathroom; small and smelled like piss. Colton crinkled his nose.
The man closed the door and Colton turned on the light. There was no window and it would soon be hard to tell day from night. Based on the light of the sun when they were outside, Colton figured it had to be around noon, maybe one o’clock; a long time until dark. He didn’t like the dark. Bad things happened then.
SEVEN
Kate burst into Nick’s office without so much as a hello. “I got a match.” She hurried to his desk and slid the sheet of paper toward him. “He was at the Sunrise Inn two nights ago. It’s on the outskirts of Fredricksburg.” She stood, hands on hips, nearly salivating at the find.
Nick was silent for a moment. He studied the information and looked at Kate. “I was with Mason earlier this morning and I followed up with her a short while ago. Someone called in a sighting. The location was north of Fredricksburg, but they haven’t found him. Shit. Two days ago. Sounds like he might still be in the area.” He began to rise. “Let’s get down there; see if we can find anything that might help us pinpoint where he was headed. Go and find Dwight.” As Nick was making his way toward the hall with Kate following, he stopped cold. “In fact. No. We’ll hold off on talking to the local police unless we find something, then we’ll get a forensics team in.” Nick continued into the corridor.
Kate was only steps behind him but veered off to see Dwight. “A hotel manager thinks Stroud and Colton were there two nights ago. We’re heading there now. Can you come?”
Dwight pushed up from his desk. “Let’s go.” He quickly joined Kate and they continued back toward the bullpen area.
“You guys heading out there?” Vasquez noted their hurried approach, already aware of Kate’s discovery.
“I’ll let you know what we find,” Kate replied.
Nick appeared only moments later. “Okay. We’re good to go.” He took the lead as the three made their way into the parking garage and retrieved his keys. “I’ll drive.”
Dwight opened the passenger door. “Go ahead, Kate.”
“Oh, no. It’s fine. You’ve got longer legs than I do.” He did, but not by much. The man was fit, but very broad and square. He always went out of his way to make Kate feel like an equal and she appreciated the gesture.
“All right.” Dwight hopped in while Nick started the engine.
“It’s roughly an hour drive; assuming no traffic,” Nick said. He sped out of the garage, tires squealing on the concrete.
“If we hadn’t had the description of the truck, we might not have gotten far,” Kate began as she buckled her seatbelt. “I don’t think the manager paid much attention to the people who’d registered. He seemed more interested in what they were driving.”
“In a place like that, it was probably to prevent someone skipping out on extra room charges. I bet most of the patrons sign in under a false name or choose to pay cash. If the manager’s got the plate number, it might cut down on those looking to get out of paying for something.” Dwight chuckled. “Gotta love people.”
Even in a moment like this, Dwight could find at least some fraction of humor. And in this job, it was a necessary quality.
“Or he was keeping track of the ‘hourly folk’ in case an angry spouse came looking,” Kate replied.
“Let’s just hope we get something signifying where they were headed afterwards.” Nick seemed unwilling to shed even the smallest bit of light onto the situation.
Kate understood, of course, but this wasn’t easy for any of them and this was how she and Dwight chose to handle it. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
“We should let Detective Mason know about this.” Dwight turned his attention to Nick. “Have you spoken with her yet?”
“Yes. She knows we’re headed there now. I told her I’d keep her up to speed on our progress.”
The rest of the journey remained uncomfortably quiet. Nick parked the car in front of the registration office and immediately stepped outside. The three soon approached the front desk. An older gentleman, appearing to lack any sense of urgency, hardly noted their arrival.
“Excuse me?” Nick retrieved his credentials. “I’m Special Agent Scarborough and this is my team. I believe Agent Reid spoke to you earlier.”
The old man turned away from the small television that was broadcasting Jeopardy and eyed the agents, one by one. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told her. I don’t know where they was headed and I never saw the boy. I just saw the man and he said he wanted one night. I noted the vehicle as I always do and I gave her the plate number, make, and model. Ain’t nothing else I can do, except let you all look in the room.”
“Have you had any other guests in the room since that night?”
“No, sir. We ain’t been that busy, but it was cleaned by the maid.”
“Is the maid here today?” Nick pressed on.
“Yes. You can speak with her at your conve
nience. She’ll let you in the room. It’s number 24.”
“Thank you for your cooperation, sir. Can you tell me where your employee is at the moment?”
“She’s in room 18 last I checked.” The man turned back to his game show.
They walked back outside into the late afternoon heat that reached a fever pitch as the early summer put a chokehold on spring. Nick removed his suit jacket, revealing his extreme discomfort both at the situation and at the rising temperature.
“I see it. It’s just over here.” Kate pointed in the direction of room 18. The door was propped open and a cleaning cart waited outside. “Looks like she’s still in there.” She took the lead while the others fell in line.
The room smelled of disinfectant. The sheets were huddled in a mass on the floor and all the lights were on. None of this, however, improved the underlying stale odor of the forty-year-old building that had likely seen its share of licentious humanity.
“Excuse me.” Kate stepped over the threshold, noting the dour expression of the middle-aged woman.
She stood up straight, mop in hand and standing just outside the bathroom door. “This room isn’t ready yet.”
“I’m actually here to see you. I was just in the office and your manager said you were in here.”
“What do you need?” Her English was fractured at best and difficult to decipher through her heavy Asian accent.
“Can you open up room 24, please?” Kate continued.
The woman eyed each of them with suspicion. “Manager said it was okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. You can go ask him yourself, if you’d like. We’re with the FBI and are here on an investigation.”
With that, the woman seemed assured as to their purpose and reached into her pocket for the keys. She began to walk toward Kate. “Follow me.”
Dwight and Nick parted to make way for the woman and Kate and they continued along the exterior corridor toward the end of the complex.
The woman stopped and inserted her key into the lock of room 24. She pushed open the door. “Here you go. It’s already clean, so please try to keep it that way.”
“We’ll do our best, thank you.” Kate entered the room, which was identical to the room the maid was cleaning.
A king-sized bed. A dresser opposite with a television resting on top. Not the flat-screen kind either. This was a good old-fashioned 25-inch Panasonic, circa 1995 by the looks of it. A narrow closet lay next to the vanity niche with a separate room for the commode and shower.
Nick approached the closet. “This room’s already been cleaned. I doubt we’ll get any prints, but let’s take precautions anyway.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved a handkerchief, then proceeded to grasp the closet door handle and pulled it open.
Three hangers hung on the metal rod. An ironing board and iron hung on the side wall and apart from that, nothing else remained inside. He bent over, resting his hands on his knees and peered inside. The carpet was moldy in spots, probably from water damage as the toilet was on the other side. Nothing of note was visible. He reached for his cell phone, turned on the flashlight, and began to shine it on the walls. A few stains, which he dared not guess their origins, peeling paint, and when he shined the light onto the ironing board, he spotted something behind it.
Nick raised up again and lifted the board from its hooks, setting it on the outside of the closet. He shined the light upon the wall. “Oh my God.”
“What is it?” A curious Dwight began to approach.
“This has to be from Colton.” Nick turned to his team. “He scratched a message on the wall.”
“Scratched?” Kate began. “Like with fingernails?”
Dwight looked closer. “I’d say so.”
The men stepped aside to allow Kate a glance. It was indeed a message and it was scratched by what certainly appeared to be fingernails. Blood appeared sporadically, but wasn’t excessive.
The message read, “He’s going to kill me. CT.”
“CT? Colton Talbot.” Kate turned to her colleagues. “This has just become a crime scene and, more importantly, Colton’s still alive.”
» » »
Several hours had passed before the man opened the bathroom door and tossed in some scraps of food, never forgetting to tell him to keep quiet “or else.” Colton knew exactly what the “or else” was and so he wouldn’t dare disobey. He figured it had to be dark, based on when they arrived. Colton counted, as best he could, the hours from that time until now. The time had to be somewhere between seven p.m. and nine p.m.
His hunger had reached painful levels and so eating slowly was necessary for fear he might not keep down the food. Who knew when or if he would eat next. Colton couldn’t shake the vision of the old woman. She reminded him of his grandmother. Of course, at his age, most people with white hair reminded him of his grandparents. Still, she looked kind and he wondered what the relationship was between the man and the kind old woman. Mother? Grandmother even?
How could she not know what was happening only feet below her? The man snuck him in when she was either in another room or perhaps out in the backyard. But Colton’s eyes lit up with the slightest glimmer of hope that someone else was here. Because maybe that meant the man wouldn’t kill him; not yet, at least. The final destination remained a mystery and he continued to pray that his parents would find him before that time arrived.
When he stopped chewing, Colton heard muffled voices above; very soft and hardly discernable. The man must be upstairs now, talking with her; the old lady. He thought he heard laughter for a moment and he knew it had come from the man. He’d never seen the man smile or laugh or say much of anything, except give him orders. Go here; go there; do this; shut up.
Colton’s pulse began to rise at the thought that the man was having fun; laughing and talking while he remained captive in the dank bathroom of an old basement. What if he could escape? What if the man was distracted with all the fun he was having and he could try; just try to leave because staying here was almost worse than death. Colton was beginning to realize that would be his fate anyway and so what was a few days sooner? At least he wouldn’t have to obey the man’s orders and wasn’t that worth something? It was starting to feel like it was to Colton.
He stood atop the toilet and cocked his ear toward the ceiling. He waited but heard nothing. Was it over all ready? Was the man coming back down? Then there it was again. A deep laughter followed by a few muffled words. The sound of clanking dishes vibrated through the floor to Colton’s ear. They were eating dinner. One probably cooked by the nice old lady who didn’t know her son or grandson had a prisoner in her basement.
What if he just screamed? Right now. Just screamed as loud as he could. The old lady would do something then; surely she would. She would call the police. Yes, maybe that was the answer. He looked down, thinking about this desperate plan that he was piecing together. Would it work? Or would the man just kill them both? What did that matter to Colton? If the man was a relative of the old lady’s, then that was her fault. He had to think about himself because no one was coming for him. No one would save him and so he would have to save himself.
Maybe there was another way. His shoulders dropped when he remembered how little there was around him. So if he tried to break out while the man was occupied with his dinner, would anyone be around to help him? There were a few houses dotted around, but far apart. Maybe even a mile apart, in his young eyes. And what if no one was home?
Colton stepped off the lid of the toilet and sat down on it. It seemed that both of his options would end in his death and that realization fell upon his shoulders, further crushing the boy’s spirit; not that much remained after being held captive by the man for how long, he didn’t know.
Tears began to overflow and spill down his cheeks. He ran his hand through his thick hair that was growing matted because it hadn’t been washed in so long. In fact, he hadn’t bathed since he was taken. The man didn’t seem to care.
His sobs, thoug
h hushed, had drowned out the man’s return down the stairs. It was only when he heard voices from a television that he realized he’d returned. Colton wiped away the tears. He didn’t want the man to see his weakness. Any plans of an escape now or at some other opportune moment were all but hopeless. The man had taken from him his courage, and all that remained was a boy; a scared boy whose only desire was that this nightmare would end.
» » »
The local police arrived at the hotel. Nick was on the phone with Detective Mason while Kate and Dwight assisted them. The growing crowd of hotel guests would need to be contained unless they wanted the media to show up. And right now, that was the last thing anyone wanted. If Lyle Stroud caught wind that the FBI weren’t that far behind, he might do something drastic, if he hadn’t already.
Kate approached one of the officers. “We’re going to need to get a handle on the bystanders before too long. We don’t need this kind of attention right now.”
“Understood. I’ll extend the tape barrier and have a brief talk with them and the manager.” The officer nodded and made his way through the door of the motel room.
Kate went back to her task, but not before being beckoned by Agent Scarborough by way of a knowing glance. She stopped only steps in front of him and waited for his call to end.
“We will, detective, thank you. Bye.” Nick placed his cell phone in his pocket and turned his attention to Kate. “Sorry about that. Listen, we’re wrapping things up here. Could you go back to the registration office and get copies of any video surveillance they have from when Stroud was here? He says he doesn’t know which way they were headed when they left, but we have to be able to glean something off those tapes. If nothing else, I want to be able to show Jake and Rachel the tapes, assuming there’s nothing questionable contained on them, and at least give them some hope that Colton is still alive. Right now, they just need something to cling on to because I know they’re losing faith. We all are.”
