by T. R. Ragan
He’d only let her use the bathroom once before. She’d been starving herself for a month. If she was ever allowed to use the bathroom again, she knew she needed to be thin enough to squeeze through the window above the bathtub. She had no idea how many pounds she’d lost, but her legs and arms looked like bones. She felt unbelievably weak. Although she didn’t have much in her stomach, she felt as if she might barf.
She turned the doorknob and entered the bathroom, then quietly locked the door. He wouldn’t like that, but she had no choice. Her reflection in the mirror above the sink caught her by surprise. Her eyes looked hollow. Bones and skin. That’s all she could see. Her hair was greasy, hanging in limp strands around her ears. She brushed her bony fingers over the cream-colored tiles around the sink, noticed the soothing blue color of the walls. It was all so clean, so different from the room he kept her in. Chrome towel rings, unadorned mirrors, a candle and a vase with flowers. The room didn’t compute, didn’t make sense. Clean and simple—nothing resembling the chaos going on in the rest of the house.
Before stepping up onto the edge of the tub to get to the window, she noticed a watch...his watch. Spiderman loved that watch. She knew this because he often lovingly stroked the watch around his wrist as if it was a beloved pet. She scooped it up and slid it over her arm, all the way past her elbow. Next, she grabbed the liquid hand soap and stood on the edge of the tub to reach the twelve-by-twelve-inch window. She had been planning her escape for weeks. She squirted soap into the window frame to reduce noise; then, inch by inch, she pushed the window open.
Weak from lack of food and water, she tried to pull herself up, but her shoulders burned. Every muscle ached as she struggled to lift her body high enough so she could push her body through the opening. She was afraid to use her legs, afraid of kicking the wall and calling attention to herself.
“Lizzy!”
He called her name. She froze.
“Lizzy!” he called again.
This was it. This was her last chance, her only chance.
Time was running out. He had a temper. He was strong. He would probably kick the bathroom door open with one swift kick of his booted foot.
Use everything you’ve got, Lizzy. To hell with making any noise! She jumped this time, and then kicked and grunted and pulled herself upward until finally she was able to squeeze her shoulders through the opening.
The door rattled. He was coming.
Her heart beat so fast and so hard she thought it might explode. Without bothering to look to see where she might land, she dove headfirst out the window and landed on thick shrubs. Sharp branches dug into her skin. Fear threatened to clog her throat as she frantically untangled herself from the bush. It felt like forever before she managed to get her feet on solid ground.
He was shouting and banging on the door.
Don’t panic, Lizzy. Whatever you do, don’t stop.
Dressed in a T-shirt, her legs weak, her body sore, she ran as fast as she could. The sun was just beginning to rise. She saw a dark blue sky and white billowy clouds. She saw freedom. She had no idea where she was or where she was going. She only knew she had to run fast if she ever wanted to see her family again.
Run, Lizzy, Run.
Lizzy awoke with a start. She sat up in bed.
Another nightmare.
She looked about, her eyes darting from the closet to the curtains covering her window. Her gaze fell to the clock on her nightstand. Six thirty in the morning. Usually her nightmares included one of Spiderman’s victims being tortured. This was the first time she had ever recalled her escape.
She fell back into the pillows and listened to her breathing until her breaths became shallow and even.
A scratching noise at her window reminded her that the red maple outside her window needed trimming. Twice she had called her landlord asking him to trim the trees around the building. Obviously to no avail.
Wearing sweats and a T-shirt, she slid off the bed and wondered what time she had finally drifted off to sleep last night. She hardly remembered saying goodnight to Jared before bolting the locks. She was still upset with him for not telling her about Sophie and the note, but she knew her anger was misplaced. Jared was only trying to protect her.
She headed for the kitchen and called for Maggie, surprised Maggie hadn’t made an appearance by now.
“Here kitty, kitty. Come on, Maggie. Time for breakfast.” Maggie didn’t like storms. With the wind rattling outside making the walls creak, it was no wonder Maggie was hiding out somewhere.
Lizzy looked around the living room. “Maggie. Come on, kitty. It’s okay.”
Maggie wasn’t on the couch or under the coffee table, two of her favorite spots. Glancing at the papers laid out across her living room floor, she remembered all the work she had to do. She also sensed for the dozenth time that she was missing something crucial...something right there in front of her that had yet to click: sports, dance, school, swimming, teenagers, brown eyes...what could it be? What wasn’t she seeing? He killed Sophie. He would kill again.
Once again, Jessica had surprised her last night with all the work she’d done in such a short time. Apparently she’d used the oldest trick in the book to get friends and family of the missing girls to answer her questions: she told them the truth, that she was working with a private investigator to try and uncover the truth about whether there were any links to their child’s disappearance and Spiderman’s victims. Family members and friends had been eager to answer her questions. The parents of the missing children were tired of being ignored, tired of not knowing the truth. They wanted answers and they didn’t care who got them.
She stacked papers into piles and placed them on the coffee table. The phone rang, and she answered it before it could ring a second time. “Hello.”
“Lizzy,” he said in his familiar robotic voice, “is that you?”
She remained silent as she watched the red light on the box. Jimmy had told her to keep the caller on the phone for at least sixty seconds. She thought she had him the last time. She counted to ten, swallowed, and said, “Of course, it’s me. I thought you knew me better than anyone.”
His mouth was pressed close to the transmitter because she could hear him breathing. “You’re getting too thin again, Lizzy. It’s not appealing. When I first found you, you had some meat on your bones. What happened?”
Her teeth clenched together. Stay calm. More than anything, she wanted to tell him to go to hell and hang up, but she refrained.
“Cat got your tongue, Lizzy?”
“I’m here,” she finally said. She looked at the red light, willing it to flash. “Why are you calling me? What do you want?”
“That’s more like it. That’s the willful, determined Lizzy I remember. I just wanted to hear your voice, Lizzy. Remember how we used to sing twinkle, twinkle, little star?”
She closed her eyes, tried to stop the bile from rising to her throat. She’d forgotten about the singing. She had purposely forgotten about a lot of things. The last thing she wanted to do was take a stroll down memory lane.
The red light began to flash. Thank God. “Yes, I remember,” she said. “Do you want me to sing it to you now?”
He laughed. “No. I want to save that for later, you know, for when we’re finally together again.”
She sucked in a breath.
“I like what you’ve been writing in your journal, although I am surprised I wasn’t mentioned more often.”
Breathe, Lizzy. Just breathe. He couldn’t have possibly read your journal. He’s playing with you. But how would he know she kept a journal at all?
“Are you there, Lizzy?”
She waited. The red light was solid again. “I’m here.” They had a definite connection. The little red light made her feel stronger—more determined than ever to put the first nail in his coffin. “What’s your real name, Spiderman? Why don’t you stop being a phony and a coward, stop hiding behind silly superhero names and ridiculous masks? Tell me y
our real name. Be a man, for God’s sake. What’s your name? Is it Hank? Jim? Fred? Are you afraid to tell me your real—”
“You’re the liar,” he said, cutting her off, his voice spiteful. “You lied to your parents. You’re the coward and the thief, Lizzy. The raving whore. The slut. You had to give it all up just to try and get your boyfriend to stay put, but it never would have worked, Lizzy. You gave it all up for nothing. Your girlfriends were calling you a whore behind your back. At least I saved you from hearing about that. We’ll be seeing each other soon. You do know that, don’t you?”
Silence.
“I left you a present, Lizzy.” He paused, his breathing growing heavier.
She was not going to hang up the phone. She’d let him talk all day if he wanted to.
“Go back to your bedroom, Lizzy, and look out your window if you want to see what I left for you. See you soon, Lizzy.” Click.
Her hands grew moist. The receiver dropped from her hand. Slowly, she walked toward her bedroom. A distant voice told her not to look, shouting at her to go back to the kitchen and call Jared. Call Cathy. Call the police.
Call anyone, but whatever you do, Lizzy, don’t look out that window, the voice said. It was the same voice she ignored fourteen years ago: Don’t listen to the screaming in the back room. Don’t go back for that girl, Lizzy. Don’t be a fool.
She entered her room, and then took slow unsteady steps toward the window. The scratching noise had grown louder. She grabbed a fistful of mossy green curtain. Don’t do it, Lizzy!
With a flick of her wrist, she pulled the curtain aside. There it was. Her gift from Spiderman. Her knees gave out, and she crumpled to the floor and sobbed.
Chapter 22
Friday, February 19, 2010 9:10 AM
Cathy checked her makeup in the rearview mirror before she stepped out of her car and followed Brittany into the orthodontist’s office. She said hello to the women behind the front desk and signed her daughter in on the clipboard. The office was neat and orderly and the staff was friendly and efficient.
Her stomach did flip-flops as she looked around, hoping to spot Dr. McMullen. The office included three orthodontists; all were friendly, but Dr. McMullen was by far the most handsome. His good manners and charm were two reasons why she didn’t mind coming in for an extra visit.
Brittany was already in the waiting area flipping through the pages of a People magazine when Cathy saw Dr. McMullen step out of his office. He glanced her way, giving her a subtle wink before the nurse handed him a file and ushered him toward a patient waiting in one of five chairs lined against the wall.
After Richard arrived home last night, Cathy had showered him with false thanks for taking care of her BMW. Then she’d served him a plate of grilled salmon and broccoli. After eating, he fell asleep on the couch, never once asking about her day. He had no idea what was going on at home. Apparently, he was too busy with his mistress. In fact, he’d left the house so early this morning, she never had a chance to tell him about Lizzy’s visit or about the FBI agent parked across the street. She shrugged. Fuck him.
Cathy had lost two pounds this week. Funny what a little stress could do to one’s appetite. This morning she pulled out her best pair of black slacks and favorite v-neck sweater that made her look ten pounds slimmer. The sweater revealed a little cleavage, her best asset. She’d also taken the time to curl her hair. Even the federal agent parked across the street had straightened in his seat when she exited the house earlier.
“Hey, Mom,” Brittany said, “did you ever call the math tutor and make an appointment?”
“Didn’t I tell you? You have an appointment with Mr. Gilman tonight. It was the only opening he had. He sounded like an older man, though; are you sure you have the right guy?”
Brittany nodded. “He used to be a math teacher at Carmen Junior High. Jenny says he’s really nice. And she’s getting A’s.”
“That’s fine, but I want to meet him. I’ll go to the door with you when I take you. Or maybe he has a waiting area for parents.”
“Mom, that’s sort of lame. Can’t you just drive home and then come back after an hour?”
“It’s twenty minutes away. I’ll wait in the car and read my book.” Cathy didn’t miss the slight roll of her daughter’s eyes. Although she didn’t want to worry her daughter, she also couldn’t take any chances leaving her alone.
“What about Lizzy?” Brittany asked. “Am I going to see her after school?”
“Afraid not. She’s busy this week.” Cathy wasn’t in the mood to discuss Lizzy with her daughter. She needed time to think about things. “Maybe you can see her next Friday. We’ll see.”
“Brittany Warner,” one of the nurses said. “Dr. McMullen is ready for you now.”
Cathy’s nerves got the best of her as she smoothed her hands over her slacks and straightened her spine. She followed her daughter into the room where Dr. McMullen was finishing up with one of his patients. The doctor’s assistant gestured toward the chair at the end of the row. Cathy noticed the doctor watching her as she followed Brittany to the chair. She smiled at him and then looked shyly away.
It wasn’t long before Dr. McMullen greeted Cathy with a friendly handshake. “So, what do we have here? I didn’t think I was going to see you two for another month.”
Cathy blushed. “I-I didn’t think we would see you for a while either. I’m afraid one of Brittany’s wires broke.”
A soft laugh rumbled from his throat, making her wonder if he was laughing because she was so obvious. The hair, the nice outfit...had she made a fool of herself?
Dr. McMullen took a seat on the stool next to her daughter’s chair. Using his mirrored utensil, he looked into Brittany’s mouth and checked all the wires. “Yep, a faulty wire all right.”
Cathy blushed again. Ridiculous. She felt like a school girl. “Should we have waited until the next appointment?”
“Of course not. You’re on top of things by coming in so quickly. Good parents like you make my job easier.” He reached over and took her hand in his. “You did the right thing.”
Cathy looked at her hand clasped in his. She pulled away when she noticed Brittany watching with an odd expression on her face. Guilt flooded her, not because of Dr. McMullen, but because she decided she was going to leave Richard. Maybe not today, but soon. Very soon.
Friday, February 19, 2010 9:15 AM
Her heels clicked against asphalt, causing an echo to hit the parking garage walls and bounce back at her. Nancy Moreno held her keys in one hand and her bottle of mace in the other. Her nerves were shot. After seeing her therapist, she had a creepy suspicion she was being watched.
Her eyes darted from one car to the next, checking for movement and unfamiliar shadows. The parking garage was well lit. Security made the rounds every thirty minutes and yet she felt exposed. She wanted to tell someone about the phone call and the deal she’d made with the devil, but who? She wasn’t ready to go public. If she told Cunningham, he wouldn’t think twice before airing the news about her conversation with the madman every hour on the hour.
She had stayed up late last night reading Lizzy Gardner’s file—myriad notes made by Linda Gates, revealing two months of some of the worst horrors imaginable. Spiderman’s atrocities appeared to be unlimited.
There was only one person Nancy should talk to, she realized, and that was Lizzy Gardner herself. A hollow thump of footsteps nearby caused her to glance over her shoulder.
Nobody was there.
She had been parking in the garage for years and had never felt unsafe. Until now. She quickened her pace. She never should have stolen Lizzy Gardner’s file.
She had what the monster wanted.
If the contents of Gardner’s file were anything to go by, nothing would stop Spiderman from coming after the file. The fluorescent lights above her head flickered.
Shit. Her heart jumped to her throat.
More footsteps. Closer, faster.
To hell with it.
She broke out into a full-blown run.
Friday, February 19, 2010 9:26 AM
Jared pounded his fists against Lizzy’s door. Where was she? He’d called her office three times. The third time Jessica had picked up and said she was worried about Lizzy since they had planned to meet early this morning. Lizzy wasn’t answering her home phone or the door to her apartment.
He climbed down the steps and tried to peek through her kitchen window. He needed a damn ladder. He went back to the door and knocked again. “Lizzy, let me in.”
The wind was making a racket, stirring the trees and causing the branches to scrape against the building. His hair whipped back and forth across his forehead. “Lizzy,” he shouted, “it’s me. Let me in. Everybody is worried about you.”
A branch snapped in half and tumbled across the street.
“Jared, is that you?”
Thank God. “Lizzy,” he said again, trying to sound calm as he ran back to the door. “It’s me, Jared. Look through the peephole, Lizzy.”
He stood far enough from the door so she would be able to see him. “Can you see me?”
“Maggie’s dead,” she said.
He leaned his forehead against the door, saddened by the news but relieved to know Lizzy was alive. For the past twenty minutes, he’d had his doubts. “Where is Maggie?”
“Outside my bedroom window. I don’t know what to do.”
“Stay where you are. I’ll take care of Maggie and then I’m going to come back to the door and knock. Until then, keep the door bolted shut. Okay, Lizzy?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He took the stairs two at a time until he landed on the sidewalk. Looking toward the high branches, he took brisk steps toward the tall maple outside of Lizzy’s bedroom window. The tree was nearly sixty feet high and had thick bare branches that intertwined. Hanging by a rope was a black and white fur ball. Maggie. Damn.
