Jessica mumbled something then that he couldn’t make out.
“What did you say?”
“I said, what a bitch! I know she’s your mother and all, but my God, to treat you like that, Oh, it just makes me so angry.”
“She wasn’t so bad, she kept me safe, fed, and clothed. That’s a hell of a lot more than some kids get.”
“Still, baby, you deserved better.”
He leaned across the table and kissed her.
“Now I’ve got the best, I’ve got you.”
As Jessica cleared away the plates and loaded the dishwasher, he thought about Brian.
He had spotted the man about a year ago in a supermarket parking lot. He was older, a few pounds heavier, but it was Brian, it was Number Three. Brian was sitting in a car and staring at the store’s entrance as if he were waiting for someone to emerge.
Twenty minutes later, a chubby woman left the store with her young son holding her hand. As the woman reached her car, she discovered that she had a flat tire. Ever gallant, Brian left his vehicle and offered to change the woman’s tire. As he worked, Brian plied the woman with his charm and left the parking lot with not only her thanks, but also her phone number. A flat tire was the same ruse he had used on his mother, and undoubtedly countless others.
He followed the man home, and over the next few days, he learned Brian’s routine, his comings and goings.
One night, at just after two a.m. he entered Brian’s home with a roll of duct tape and a pair of bolt cutters. He was dressed in black with a matching ski mask, and his gloved hands would leave no trace.
He woke Brian up with a hard slap to the face.
“What the fuck! Hey, what the hell is going on?”
“You like to touch, don’t you? You like to touch little boys?”
Brian sat up in bed and turned on the light. When he spied the tall figure in black standing before him with a set of bolt cutters in his hand, he turned as white as the sheet beneath him.
“Listen, I don’t know what any kid might have told you but—”
His second blow was more than a slap and it rendered Brian senseless, moments later, he had Brian’s wrists and ankles bound to the four corners of the bed with duct tape.
When he went to work with the bolt cutters, the gag helped to muffle the screams, and with practice, he found that the tenth finger came off much easier than the first.
***
When he showed up for work, he discovered his boss, Manuel, in the maintenance room; he was sitting at the workbench and reading the newspaper. Manuel was in his forties, short, with a thin build and a swarthy complexion.
“Yo man, where you been? I stopped by your room last night and you weren’t here.”
“I was sleeping on my girlfriend’s sofa. She and her roommate are a little spooked after the murder.”
“That hot blonde, Jessica, that’s your girl, right?”
He nodded.
“Well enjoy it while you can, brother, because sooner or later she’ll dump you. Guys like us don’t get the Harvard babes; she’ll probably hook up with some rich jerk, like that asshole Howe Winslow.”
“Have you been talking to her father?”
“What?”
“Nothing, so what would you like me to do today?”
“I’ll take care of the regular bullshit, but I need you to organize the basement storage room. Every year when the old tenants move out they leave stuff behind, and we need that room for this year’s crop.”
“All right, and what do I do with the old stuff?”
“Anything good we keep or sell, and anything we don’t want we toss out.”
“Okay, so I’ll place it aside so you can look at it.”
“You do that.”
He left Manuel and went down the hall to his room to change into a pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt. His job came with a small room that wasn’t much larger than the closets in Jessica’s apartment. All it contained was a single bed and an old TV on a wobbly table.
After changing, he sat down on the side of the bed and thought about what Manuel had prophesied, that someday Jessica would leave him for someone more her type.
His job didn’t pay much, but since he didn’t have to spend money on an apartment, he made enough to attend the community college. Soon, he and Jessica would both be busy with school and class assignments, and between her part-time job and his fulltime job, they would be together less often.
If she were ever to leave him, he knew that he would not blame her, and the very fact that she was in his life at all was a source of constant amazement to him.
Still, he feared her absence. Not simply because it would mean that he would lose someone that he loved, but he also feared what he might become without her.
She thought that he was a better man than he knew, he, however, feared that he was even worse than he imagined, and that without her, the dark desires that caused him to abduct her in the first place would return, return and control him as they did before.
The thought came to him then, of Juliet, of her willingness to give herself to him. There were other women like her, literally thousands, who would be attracted to his outer beauty and never glimpse the inner beast, not until it was too late, until he had them restrained, helpless, completely at his mercy, taken!
He shot to his feet and shook himself. That would never happen again. He would never do to another woman what he did to Jessica. She thought that he was better than he was, and if it was the last thing he ever did, he was going to prove her right.
A harsh sound came from the office, something that sounded like metal grating on stone.
He stuck his head out the door, as the sound repeated
“Manuel!”
No answer,
He walked into the office and found Manuel gone. The paper he had been reading was scattered on the floor and the windowless room was cool, as if a breeze had gone through it. After placing the newspaper back on the bench, he grabbed his tool belt from his locker and went off to work in the storage room.
CHAPTER 12
THE PRESENT
In the suburbs of Detroit
They stood at the front door of the home of Professor Tyler Davidson. When the door opened, their eyes widened in shock.
“Hello, Kari,” Jessica said. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
Kari Shaw smiled brightly, while gesturing for them to enter.
“Come on in, guys, Tyler’s running late, but he should be here any minute.”
They first met Kari while they were helping her friend, Sandra Jenkins, get back her young daughter, who had been abducted to be sold to the highest bidder. Their next meeting with Kari was just a short time ago, when they helped her solve a problem with her brother. It was also when they became friends with Tyler Davidson.
Besides being an economics professor, Tyler Davidson was also a vigilante whose Raison d'être was the extermination of drug dealers.
They followed Kari into the living room of the large, Tudor-style home, as a delicious aroma drifted from the kitchen that made their mouths water.
Kari had the fireplace lit and in the corner of the room was a bar with a counter and three stools. Kari was a petite redhead, and the short dress she wore showcased her figure nicely.
“Would you two like a drink or coffee?” she asked them.
They both opted for coffee, and soon Kari sat across from them on a matching sofa and told how she came to be living in Tyler’s home.
“After I relocated my brother, I was flying back to New York when my flight was forced to land at Detroit Metro due to a snowstorm. The airport was packed with stranded passengers and I had just settled myself at a spot on the floor when Tyler walked over and smiled down at me. He had just returned from an economics conference in California. When he offered to give me a place to stay for the night I said yes, and... I’ve been here ever since.”
“I’m glad. Tyler needs someone in his life.”
Kari
shook her head.
“Oh no, Jessica, don’t get the wrong idea. Tyler and I aren’t together, no, I just help him with things. Between his teaching and, the other thing, he’s a very busy man. I guess you could say that I help him keep his life organized.”
Jessica studied her.
“You have feelings for him though, don’t you?”
Kari blushed.
“I love him, but, with his wife and all, I guess nothing will ever happen.”
“Has his wife’s condition improved or is she still in a coma?”
“She’s still comatose, and Tyler is still dedicated to her. I’m probably just wasting my time.”
“Well, hang in there, honey; both of you deserve to be happy and maybe someday you’ll be happy together.”
The sound came of a car pulling into the driveway and Kari got up to open the door.
Tyler gave Kari a warm smile and then walked over to greet his guests.
“I apologize for being late, and forgive the way I’m dressed but I was... working, so to speak.”
Tyler Davidson was black, six-foot-ten, and muscular. He was dressed in a tattered navy pea coat with a pair of faded jeans and a knit cap and work boots.
He stood and shook Tyler’s hand.
“No need to apologize, our mutual friend here was keeping us company.”
Tyler turned and stared at Kari.
“Yes, she’s been a Godsend. I don’t think that I could keep going without her. Anyway, give me twenty minutes to make myself presentable and we’ll eat, whatever is in the kitchen is making me ravenous.”
“It’s Beef Wellington,” Kari said.
Tyler smiled at her. “One of my favorite dishes, thank you,”
“You’re welcome,” she said, and then for a few moments they just smiled at each other.
Tyler freed himself from the trance and headed for the stairs.
“Twenty minutes, I swear.”
***
Tyler was true to his word, and soon they were sitting at the dining room table and having dinner.
When Tyler learned of Jessica’s pregnancy, he walked over to her husband and plucked him from his seat to lock him in a bear hug.
“Ahh, I’m so happy for you, my friend, you do not know how happy I am.”
“I have an idea; I think you just cracked my ribs.”
Tyler laughed as he released him; he then leaned over and gave Jessica a kiss on the cheek.
“God bless both of you.”
When Tyler was again settled in his seat, Jessica’s husband asked him a question.
“Those old clothes you were wearing, what’s the story behind that?”
“Not exactly my usual body armor, eh? Well, it’s simple; I’ve begun infiltrating the enemy. Ridding the streets of drug dealers is fine, but I realized that I need to go after bigger fish, and so I’m pretending to be one of them while I climb the ladder to the top, and along the way I hope to remove a few rungs.”
“It’s a good plan, but it sounds dangerous. If you need help creating a cover identity, let us know. We know someone that could build you an entire history, birth certificate, driver’s license, everything.”
“I’ll take you up on that. Sooner or later my alter ego will have a run-in with the law, and I’ll need to fool them into believing I’m someone else, not that they’re effective or even competent, if they were, I wouldn’t have to do what I’m doing.”
“I recently met a DEA agent by the name of Szabo who was very effective. He also has about the same regard for drug merchants as you do.”
“He’s the exception then, this so-called war on drugs has raged far too long, and most of that is due either to corruption or incompetence.”
***
As Jessica helped Kari in the kitchen, he spoke to Tyler alone.
“How’s your wife?”
“The same, always the same, this coma... it’s as if she were in a limbo of some sort. I only pray that she has no awareness of her condition. I think it would be hell to be locked away, aware, inside an unresponsive body.”
“Your wife may be in limbo, but you’re not.”
“Are you speaking of Kari? She’s been a blessing and I don’t know how I’d get along without her, but as far as starting a relationship with her, no, no not as long as my wife lives, and besides, she’s much younger than I am.”
“You deserve to be happy, Tyler.”
“Maybe so, but tell me, if our positions were reversed, could you start a new life without Jessica?”
“No, but then, Jessica is my life.”
“As my wife is to me,”
He stared at Tyler.
“I cannot imagine your pain.”
“No my friend,” Tyler said. “In truth, you’re one of the few who can.”
CHAPTER 13
THE PAST
Cambridge, Massachusetts
He had just finished culling from the boxes in the basement storage room when Jessica arrived with food.
“I had some free time this afternoon, so I thought we could have lunch together.”
“That sounds good, let’s eat in the office.”
When he entered the maintenance office, he noticed that the newspaper was gone and figured that Manuel must have taken it away.
As they ate, he told her more about his childhood.
“Number Twenty-three was one of my favorites, he was a thief and he taught me a lot about breaking and entering.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, I even went along on a few jobs with him. He would break-in to the homes of the wealthy in the middle of the day. He kept a pair of riding mowers in the back of a pick-up truck that had the name of a fictitious lawn service painted on its side, but the mowers were hollow, and that’s where he would hide the loot.”
“Why would he bring you along?”
“Once I figured out that the mowers were fakes, I followed him. When he realized that I wasn’t going to tell anybody what he really did for a living, he confessed everything to me. I think he was very proud. After all, he was good at what he did, one of the best, and most people seek recognition.”
“Was he ever caught?”
“I don’t know; after my mother broke up with him I never saw him again.”
“Who taught you how to fight?”
“No one really, that’s always come naturally to me, although Number Twenty-eight did teach me Judo, and he also taught me how to fence.”
“You mean like swords?”
“Yes, it’s an interesting way to fight, very deadly when done for real.”
Jessica smiled.
“What about Number Four?”
“He taught me to swim and snorkel.”
“Number Nineteen?”
“Hunting and fishing,”
“Um, Number Thirty-four?”
“Carpentry, and some magic tricks, he always wanted to be a magician.”
“You know, in a way you’ve had many fathers.”
“In a way, yes,”
They grew silent, as each sipped on their beverages, but then, Jessica broke the silence with a question.
“What you said last night, about me being your first girlfriend, that wasn’t true, was it?”
“I didn’t lie, but...there was someone.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I was fifteen we had a neighbor, Mrs. Poe. One day while I was cutting her grass, she asked me if I knew how to fix a leaky faucet. When I told her that I did, she asked me inside. Ten minutes after that... I was in her bed.”
“How old was she?”
“Early thirties, divorced with two girls, a six and an eight year old, that summer they were staying with their father.”
“How long did this go on?”
“Until about Thanksgiving, that’s when she moved away. She never said goodbye. I showed up one day and the house was empty.”
“And you were only fifteen?”
“Yes, but I looked older, and I was alr
eady over six feet tall,”
“What did she look like?”
“She was beautiful.”
“Did you love her?”
He searched for the right words.
“It...we only had sex. She barely spoke to me. She would just take me by the hand and lead me to bed.”
“But you were just a boy; she used you.”
“Yes, but I didn’t mind.”
“I’ll bet.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it before.”
“Thank you, for not lying to me.”
“I’ll never lie to you, Jessica.”
They leaned towards each other to kiss, but the sound of running feet came from the hallway and soon three police officers entered the room, all three of them had guns in their hands and one of them was dressed in street clothes.
The man in the suit demanded to know his name, when he gave it to him, he was told to stand and then one of the uniforms frisked him.
“He’s got a knife, Lieutenant,”
The man in the suit studied the knife.
“Bag it, but I don’t think it’s right, the wounds were circular.” He then spoke to Jessica. “Who are you?”
“I’m Jessica White, his girlfriend, and I also live in the building. What’s going on?”
“There’s been another murder. The body was discovered ten minutes ago by the girl’s mother.”
“Oh my God, who was it?”
“Kathy Dawkins, apartment 2G, did you know her?”
“No, but that apartment is directly under mine.”
“Where were you this morning, young man?”
He pointed down the hall.
“I was working in the storage room.”
“All morning?”
“Yes.”
The detective sent one of the uniforms to check out the storage room.
“Is one of these lockers yours?”
“Yes, the one marked K.”
“Can we see inside? Or I can get a search warrant if you’d like?”
“Take a look, it’s not locked.”
The cop opened his locker, inside, lying on the bottom was a white towel. When the cop picked it up and unwrapped it, he discovered a bloody screwdriver.
“That’s not mine.”
The cop pointed his gun at him.
The TAKEN! Series - Books 5-8 (Taken! Box Set Book 2) Page 5
