Girl in Trouble

by Stacy Claflin

Stuck

  Ariana jumped, startled by the sound of a car door slamming outside. She shoved the nightstand back to it's original spot, making sure the legs went in the exact places the carpet was indented. Then she returned the lamp and decorative toys back to where they'd been.

  The entire time Lloyd had been at the store, she'd been trying to escape the ugly room. She hadn't even found a loose floorboard. He'd been careful to make sure there was no way out.

  Footsteps sounded and stairs creaked.

  She ran over to the dollhouse and pulled out some of the dolls onto the floor. He'd said something about Jan liking those. She needed to get into character.

  Thuds sounded out toward the kitchen as he put the groceries away. Ari was glad he was going to keep feeding her, but she didn't know why he wanted her there.

  Did he really think she was his sister? He had to have known that she wasn't. That was why he had taken her, right? He'd been smart enough to lure her away with the game, so he couldn't be stupid enough to really think she was Jan?

  If only she could figure him out, she might be able to find a way to get him to let her go. The first thing she needed to try was to get him to take her into the backyard. She'd seen swings when looking out the tiny window in the kitchen. Maybe if Jan begged him to go out there, he would give in.

  The lock clicked.

  Ariana grabbed two dolls and held them up, facing each other to make it look like they were having a conversation.

  Slowly, the door opened. Lloyd came in. His face was red and the lines on his forehead seemed deeper.

  "Th-thanks for fixing the dollhouse," Ariana said. "I love what you did to it."

  His expression softened somewhat. "I'm really glad." His eyes darted back and forth across the room, lingering slightly on the window. "I really wanted to make your favorite lunch, but something came up. Someone—never mind. Are you going to be okay if you don't eat for a little longer?"

  "Sure." If she was agreeable now, maybe he'd be more likely to take her out back later. Later might even be better. At dusk, it would be easier for her to try to find a way out. It was so bright out now, it would be hard to be sneaky.

  "Thanks, and I'll make it up to you." His wide eyes made him seem truly sorry.

  Ariana forced her sweetest smile—the one that usually got Papi to give her whatever she asked for. "It's okay."

  Lloyd's shoulders relaxed. "You haven't changed a bit. I'll be as quick as I can." He left the room, locking the door.

  She sighed and leaned against the bed. As anxious as she was, she wasn't really hungry, anyway. The only thing she wanted was to get out of the room and into her own clothes. She scratched her shoulder and then her side, hating the feel of the clothes. She always picked out soft fabrics for herself.

  Ariana dropped the dolls on top of the others and went over to the window. Down below, Lloyd pulled out of the driveway in a silver car and down the rocky drive between the thick covering of trees. She squinted, trying to find another house through the woods.

  Nothing. They could be miles and miles away from the nearest people for all she knew. Given how long Lloyd had been gone to get groceries, that was probably the case.

  Interview

  Captain Nick Fleshman poured himself a cup of coffee. It was stale as usual, but if he was going to stay awake, he would need it. He added sugar and cream, not that it helped any.

  Anderson stopped and poured himself a cup, too. "Hey, Nick. What do you make of Mercer?"

  "He just wants to find his daughter." He gulped down the drink, trying to ignore the taste.

  "He's not the same kid he was back then, you know." Anderson leaned against the wall. "He's got a temper. We have to keep an eye on him."

  "If you were face to face with the person you thought abducted your son, you'd punch him."

  Anderson shook his head. "No, I'd want to hit him. I wouldn't do it."

  "Because you know the law, and also how bad it'd make you look in the middle of a case."

  "Obviously."

  Nick crinkled his cup and tossed it into the garbage. "So, do you want to go with me to question the suspect?"

  "He's going to love that. You think he's the guy?"

  "Mercer is pretty sure."

  "I know that. What do you think?" Anderson dropped his cup into the trash.

  "We'll find out."

  "Let me grab my tablet and a coat. Then we'll head over."

  Nick nodded. "Meet you in the room." The room was where they kept everything for the big cases like this one. Every bit of evidence was laid out in order and white boards were filled with information on suspects, locations, and anything else pertinent. He headed over with Alex's drawing.

  He glanced around the room, checking out what had been added to the list of suspects and timelines. Nick grabbed a magnet and added the sketch to the suspect list.

  "What's this?" Special Agent Jones asked. She adjusted her brown glasses and studied the picture.

  "Alex Mercer drew that of the suspect."

  "The one he assaulted?"

  "That would be the one."

  "We have footage from the store. My partner's grabbing it as we speak."

  "And I'm headed over to speak with the suspect now."

  She arched a brow. "Shouldn't we send a detective for that?"

  "I'm bringing one with me, but I want to lead this up."

  "Your call. If you need anything, just say the word."

  "Will do." Nick wandered the room until Anderson returned. "Let's head out."

  They headed for Nick's black mustang with yellow racing stripes. No sense in showing up in a squad car, only to send the suspect running before they could talk to him.

  "Do you wash it every morning?" Anderson asked.

  Nick laughed. "Right, in all my spare time. No, I keep it in a garage."

  "Thought you lived in an apartment."

  "Condo," Nick corrected. "And I rent one of the fully enclosed garages. It was the only way I would live there." He patted the hood, remote unlocked the doors, climbed in, and started the engine.

  "I'm surprised Corrine didn't get your car, too." Anderson shut the door and buckled himself.

  "She knew better than to try, especially after taking the kids across the country." Nick squeezed the steering wheel and took a deep breath. This wasn't the time to think about any of that. He had to focus on the case.

  "So, where does this guy live?"

  "If he's not driving a stolen car, over in the Highlands." Nick entered the address into to the GPS.

  "Really? This ought to be interesting."

  "Could be." The Highlands was one of the most expensive neighborhoods in town. They rarely found themselves in the gated community that tended to police itself with a neighborhood watch headed up by a large former NFL star.

  "He probably has a fancy attorney sitting at his front door."

  Nick pulled out of the parking spot. "We'll find out."

  Anderson speculated what they would find for the entire drive over. Nick nodded along, half-listening.

  When they pulled up to the gate, Nick showed the security guard his badge. He examined it and then opened the gate.

  The GPS told him to go straight and then left.

  "Must be nice to live here. Look at these houses."

  Nick was more focused on the road, but he did have to admit he wouldn't turn down an offer to live in one. Despite their differences, each house was sprawling and flawless. Not one had chipped paint, too-long grass, or moss growing on the roof.

  Finally, they reached the house. It was tucked away in a back corner with more trees in the front than the others. It also had thick woods behind it.

  A silver Volvo sat in the driveway.

  Nick parked in front of the curb. "The car is where it's registered."

  "Not stolen."

  They got out of the Mustang and though he probably didn't need to, Nick set the alarm out of habit. They walked up the driveway, slowing as they passed the sedan. It
was as tidy inside as the rest of the neighborhood.

  Nick rang the doorbell. Everything was so quiet inside, he thought maybe no one was home. But then the door opened. A lanky, balding man studied them. "Can I help you?"

  Both Anderson and Nick showed him their badges.

  "I'm Captain Fleshman and this is Head Detective Anderson. We'd like to ask you a few questions. Mind if we come inside?"

  "Sure. I'm heading out to a meeting soon, though."

  "We won't be long," Anderson said. "Can you confirm who you are?"

  "Flynn Myer."

  It matched the name on the vehicle registration.

  "Would you like to see my ID?"

  "That won't be necessary."

  Flynn led them to a large living room and indicated for them to sit on a brown leather couch. He sat across from them in a matching recliner. "Can I get you anything? Water? Soda?"

  Anderson shook his head. "In this jurisdiction, even water could be construed as bribery."

  Flynn's eyes widened. "Really? Well, I assure you that was the furthest thing from my mind."

  "It usually is," Nick said. It was usually wads of cash or expensive electronics that shouted bribe.

  "I assume this is regarding the incident at the Giant Pear?" Flynn leaned back and crossed one leg over the other.

  Anderson pulled out his tablet. "We just have a few questions."

  "I'm sure you do, considering I was accused of kidnapping."

  Nick studied Flynn. He didn't fidget, glance around, break out into a sweat, or do anything else he would expect a guilty man of doing.

  "Do you plan to press charges?" Anderson asked.

  "Like I said at the store, no. I hope the poor guy finds his daughter safe and sound. I can't imagine what he's going through."

  "What were you doing at around eight-thirty last night?" Nick asked.

  Flynn scratched his arm. "I was giving a presentation at work to fifty people."

  Nick and Anderson exchanged a glance. That was a solid alibi if it turned out to be true.

  "Where do you work?" Nick asked.

  "In the corporate offices of Speedwell Electronics."

  "Seems like an odd time for a presentation," Anderson noted.

  "The deadline for our different teams on what we'd been researching all month was six o'clock that night. My team was last, and we were all there until well after nine. I was nowhere near the missing girl."

  "Have you ever seen Alex Mercer before he confronted you at the grocery store?" Nick asked.

  "You mean aside from the news?" Flynn shook his head. "I recognized him from the news, that's it."

  Anderson and Nick continued questioning him, and Nick paid special attention to his body language. The man was either innocent or had been trained well in how to fake it. It wouldn't have been the first time someone had faked all the right moves during an interrogation. Nick also studied what he could see of the house. The only thing remotely suspicious was how clean it was, but everyone in the Highlands likely had a maid service, if not a live-in housekeeper.

  Nick finally rose from the comfortable couch. "That's all the questions we have for you. Thank you for your cooperation."

  Flynn rose and shook both of their hands. "My pleasure. If there's anything else I can do to help, just say the word. Though, I don't know what I could do."

  "Thank you for your time." Anderson nodded.

  Flynn showed them to the door and gave a friendly wave as they left.

  They got into Nick's car and headed back to the station.

  "At least we can check him off the list," Anderson said. "I've never seen a suspect so obviously innocent."

  "He was almost too innocent."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Anderson asked.

  "Mr. Myer knew all the right things to say and do. It was a little too perfect."

  "Just be glad we can take him off our list and focus on finding the real perp."

  Nick nodded, but he wasn't going to remove Flynn from his list just yet.

  Waiting

  Zoey turned her phone on silent. It had been blowing up with alerts all day, and she'd finally had enough. Didn't people know she had more important things to do than to answer half a trillion messages? Her daughter was missing and right at that very moment, her fiancé was being questioned by the FBI. The FBI!

  She glanced around the police station waiting room. Two hookers sat across from her discussing business practices and just a few seats down from them, she swore a guy was setting up a drug deal over the phone.

  "How much longer?" she muttered. Why was it taking so long? Kellen had done nothing wrong. Sure, he'd left her parents' house at the exact time of the abduction, but he'd returned with the garbage bags. There was no way he'd have had the time for a kidnapping—not that he'd ever do anything like that.

  Kellen was a stand-up guy with a good career that he'd never put at risk, not that he would ever think of hurting anyone, much less Ariana. He was always so sweet with her.

  The door to the station opened, blowing in cold air and a few multi-colored leaves. Two men came in, both yelling over each other. A cop entering with them told them to shut up and directed them to the waiting room.

  Zoey wrapped her fingers around the car keys. Surely, Kellen would understand if she went for a drive.

  She sent him a quick message.

  Text me when you're done.

  Once locked inside the car, she felt better—at least as much as she could with Ariana missing and her fiancé being interrogated about it. Alex was the one they needed to question heavily, but he always seemed to get out of having to pay for any consequences. It had always been that way. Had his parents not been so willing to look the other way when they were young, they would have never ended up together.

  Sneaking out of the house, smoking—they had always pretended not to see any of it. Heck, Zoey had gotten pregnant with Ariana under their roof. Maybe if they had been better parents, Ariana wouldn't be missing—or maybe she wouldn't even exist.

  Zoey's stomach twisted. She didn't like that thought, either. She could blame people all day long, but that wouldn't bring back Ariana.

  What would? Questioning Kellen? That was stupid. He had nothing to do with it.

  She pulled out her phone and checked the news sites and social media—not that she expected any updates. She would be the first to know if anything changed. The news sites just reiterated the same information over and over, some with differing spins on theories. None of it brought them any closer.

  On social media, the case was still a trending topic with people spouting so many opinions it made her head spin. She had nearly fifty unread messages, and scanning the list, it was just people expressing sympathy. Nothing urgent to answer.

  Waiting was the worst. She wanted to get out there and do something. There were search teams in the various woods in the area, but Kellen's attorneys had advised them to stay close to home and to keep their phones on them at all times.

  There had to be something she could do. There had been talk of a press conference, but nothing more. Maybe it was up to her to make that happen.

  Her phone alerted her to a text.

  I'm finished. Where are you?

  In the parking lot. I'll come inside.

  She climbed out.

  "Are you Zoey Carter? Do you know what happened to Ariana?"

  She spun around. A woman in a suit shoved a mic in Zoey's face. A cameraman stood behind her.

  "I need to get in there."

  "What happened to Ariana? Why did you give her up for adoption?"

  Zoey shoved the mic away and glared at the woman. "It's none of your business. Move aside."

  "How close were you to the missing girl?"

  "We are quite close. Now leave me alone." She pushed the woman out of her way and ran inside.

  Kellen stood in the waiting room, his arms folded. "Why did you leave?"

  "Technically, I didn't. I just went to the car to get away from
the crazies." She glanced over to see even more had come in while she was outside.

  "Come on. Let's go."

  "I need to talk to someone about setting up a press conference."

  "You couldn't have done that while I was in there?"

  "I didn't think of it then." She went over to the desk. "I need to speak with Captain Fleshman. He's in charge of my daughter's case."

  "He's off duty. You can speak with Head Detective Anderson."

  "Where is he?" Zoey asked, stepping toward the hall.

  The clerk glared at her. "Have a seat."

  "Why can't I go back there? My daughter is missing."

  "And our team is doing everything possible, including working around the clock."

  "I need to talk with him so we can do more."

  "Have a seat," the clerk snapped.

  Zoey went back to Kellen. "What happened in there? Did they interrogate you, or just ask more questions? Did your lawyer leave already?"

  He nodded, avoiding her gaze. "Let's go."

  "What's wrong?" she asked.

  Kellen sighed and looked conflicted. "This isn't what I signed up for."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Getting interrogated by the FBI for something I didn't do, that's what I mean."

  "This isn't easy on anyone. I've never been more stressed out in my life—more scared. I might never see her again."

  "And you act like you're the only one who cares. The only one who this is hard on. Wake up, Zoey. You're not!"

  The druggies and hookers were starting to stare.

  "Maybe we should have this conversation somewhere else."

  "Great." Kellen stepped away from the wall. "Let's go."

  "I'm waiting to talk to… what'd they say his name was?"

  "Do whatever you want. I'll meet you in the car." Kellen stormed out the door, slamming it behind him.

  Research

  Alex's chin hit his chest, and he snapped it up, awake. He stared at the laptop screen in front of him on the desk, trying to focus his vision. He'd taken a nap, but it hadn't been enough. He needed to find everything he could on the previous similar kidnappings.

  He adjusted himself in the chair and clicked over to the images of the other girls. Chills ran down his back. They all looked so much like Ariana—and they'd all ended up dead on Halloween.