“Hello!” Gillian cried loudly as she turned the light on and crawled off of the mattress toward the door. “Is somebody out there? We need to use the bathroom.”
On the other side of the door her words were met with silence.
“There’s no place for us to go in here!”
Silence.
“Can you take us to the bathroom? We really have to go bad!”
Silence.
“It’s hot in here and we’re about to burst!”
Once again there was silence. It lasted so long that she had decided that her plea had been ignored. She had returned to the mattress where Nia was now awake, when there was movement at the doggie door. Gillian turned in time to see the bottom of a small, plastic pail. Nia and she watched as it was maneuvered through the opening and landed on the tile floor inside the room.
Gillian retrieved it. Peeking inside, she found two baloney sandwiches and two bottles of water, along with a single roll of wrapped toilet paper. Her heart sank as she realized that her plan would not be put into action. Neither of them would be leaving this room to use the bathroom.
Tossing the food and water aside, she threw the toilet paper at the wall as hard as she could. The cover on the roll burst as it landed on the floor with a thud, but her rage still wasn’t appeased. Taking the bucket by the handle, Gillian beat the plastic pail against the wall again and again until the metal handle came off in her hand. Spent, she let the battered pail fall to the floor next to the roll of toilet paper.
She fought to contain her tears as she joined Nia on the mattress. The little girl looked shocked at her cousin’s display of temper.
“Are we going to the bathroom?” She asked timidly.
“We’ll have to use that.” Gillian indicated the pail lying on the floor.
Nia looked at the pail. Her face registered confusion.
“That’s not a toilet. Aren’t we going over to the bathroom?”
“They’re not going to let us,” Gillian told her honestly. Her heart felt heavy with every word. She wasn’t sure if that window across the hallway was too high for them to jump to the ground or just right for such an escape. All she knew was that it was a way out. It might be their only hope for freedom.
“So we can’t go home?” Nia’s chin began to quiver as she tried to hold back the tears.
Gillian didn’t answer as she gave her a hug. Opening a bottle of water, she bathed the girl’s hot face with its coolness and gave her a comforting kiss. With one last act of resentment she threw the bucket handle that she had placed on the bed across the room. It settled beneath the doggy door. Urging Nia up from the mattress, she placed her over the pail to relieve herself. Both girls had stripped down to their underwear because of the oppressive heat.
“I don’t like this,” Nia balked, but she relieved herself anyway and Gillian followed suit.
“It’s going to smell like pee in here,” Nia noted as the girls wiped their hands with dampened toilet paper before they settled back on the mattress.
Gillian couldn’t disagree with that observation. She knew that it would be worse when they both had to relieve themselves of solid waste. She refused to settle for this! There had to be a way out of here.
Looking around the bare room, her eyes shifted to the handle lying on the floor. It was metal and had been attached to the plastic bucket with screws that were now scattered about the room. Suddenly an idea came to her.
Hurrying over to the door, Gillian listened carefully for any sounds coming from the other side. Not hearing any, she grabbed the curved metal handle and, once again, stuck her head through the doggy door. She tried to put an arm through at the same time, but was unsuccessful. After trying several maneuvers, she was able to position herself so that she could put her arm through the door and extend it as far as she could. It could hardly reach where the door knob used to be, but that didn’t matter. Her goal was to reach beyond that with the handle in her hand. If she was successful then she might be able to reach the slide latch that kept them prisoners in this room. All she needed was something to put through the hole in the bucket handle where the screw used to be. She would then make a device that might be able to catch the latch and open the door. It was a long shot, but it was a chance worth taking.
Shimmying back into the room, the fear and anger that had gripped her minutes ago was replaced by the fire of defiance. The guile that she had honed over the years both at school and at home was about to be put to the test. If her plan worked she and Nia would be out of their hated prison soon.
CHAPTER 6
Darnell called her mother, Bev, who was Dana’s older sister. Bev and her husband, Ray, hurried to the Reasoner home. On their arrival at the house, Ray had been both surprised and happy to see James Starr in Dana’s office and assured the authorities and the family that he was not suspect. Dana was already convinced of that. She and James had taken advantage of any breaks from their interrogations by the authorities to continue getting acquainted.
While activity swirled around them, Dana and James had settled on the sofa in her office, sipping endless cups of coffee and feasting on the carryout that had been brought in by the agents. He entertained her with stories about his years on the force. Some of the antidotes were funny, others were tragic, but Dana noticed that he was guarded when it came to revealing anything personal.
He did share that he wasn’t married, and he told her about his reputation as a rebel when he was a police officer. Having been on the other side of the law when he was young, he confessed having had more empathy with the bad guys than he should have.
After he had finished his storytelling James asked Dana about her years as an attorney. Her stories weren’t as exciting as his. Respecting the personal lives of her celebrity clients, she didn’t gossip about them. Instead, she told him about their devotion to their families, their consideration for others and about the charities they supported, often anonymously. After she finished, James looked at her approvingly.
“I like your discretion. I hope your clients appreciate it.”
Dana was pleased by his comment. “They do.”
“But I would like to know something more.”
Dana looked at him warily. She didn’t plan on revealing anything else, so what more could he want? The answer surprised her.
“Tell me something about Gillian and Nia. What kind of girls are they? What are their personalities like?”
It was then that Dana realized that he was the only one during this whole ordeal who had asked. The agents had wanted to know about the girls’ physical description and about what they were wearing when they were snatched. No one had asked about them. What was even more impressive was that he really seemed to care about the answer.
As she told him about the girls, she noticed how attentively he listened and she appreciated the distraction he was providing. For the first time since the abductor’s first call, she was dwelling on the positive.
“Little Nia is a pretty child. She’s got her mother’s eyes and her father’s dimpled cheeks, but she’s more than a pretty face. She’s smart and has the sweetest personality, although she’s a little bit shy until she gets to know you. She’s gentle and kind and very feminine. She loves dressing up.”
“What about her cousin?”
Dana chuckled as she visualized Gillian Reasoner. “Now there’s a character! The stories I’ve heard about her you wouldn’t believe. She’s the boldest, most determined child I have ever met. She’s a little thing, really small for her age, but she’s a born leader. If I had two words to describe her best those words would be pit bull.”
James laughed at the description. “I like them both already.”
“It takes their parents to really tell you about them. Both of the girls are the lights of their parents’ lives.”
“No doubt,” James agreed. He could remember a time when he had experienced the same feeling.
Dana was amazed that she could find levity at this moment as she
thought about the girls. “I’ll tell you one thing, wherever they are you can bet your life that Gillian’s scheming to find a way home.”
****
Before embarking on their quest to escape their imprisonment, Gillian and Nia had said a prayer asking God to help them. Gillian’s mother had told her that people don’t always get what they ask for when they ask for it, but God did his best. She was hoping that this would be the case now.
She had gotten Nia in on the effort to orchestrate their escape. They had used her hair ribbon to help make the lasso that would catch the latch on the lock. Gillian had placed the colorful piece of satin around the Afro puff that she had fashioned as her cousin’s hair style this morning. Little had she realized how useful it would be later.
She had managed to thread the thin piece of satin through the empty screw hole in the handle of the pail. Having done that, she then repositioned herself at the doggy door so that her arm went through it. After that, it became a constant effort to try and loop the makeshift lasso onto the knob on the latch. Each attempt was made blindly, but despite this, the young girl’s hopes were high. If her efforts were successful and the loop hit its target, a couple of tugs should release the latch and offer them freedom.
She must have tried hundreds of times and missed, but she kept on trying, remaining constantly aware of any sound that would alert her that her captors were coming. When her arm grew numb and she became dizzy from the heat and the effort, she gave Nia instructions on how to do the deed and the five year old took Gillian’s place at the doggy door. Unfortunately, her arm was too short to offer any chance of success, but she was tireless in her effort while Gillian rested.
She was so proud of her little cousin. The blistering heat, the smell of their own urine, and the Spartan conditions in which they were forced to stay had taken their toll on them both, but Nia proved to be a fighter. There had been some tears, but no whining and she did whatever Gillian requested with no complaint.
When her arm felt better, she sent Nia back to the mattress to rest. Gillian was exhausted and wanted to sleep, but she knew that she had to keep trying. Their lives might depend on it.
Time passed slowly as she worked tirelessly. Nia took cat naps, occasionally awakening to ask the same question. “Are we going home yet?” It was the trust in her eyes that kept Gillian going.
Drained by the heat, Nia jerked awake, and wiped the sweat from her eyes. Looking across the room she could see Gillian’s lower body bathed in the light from the goose neck lamp as she continuously tossed the noose toward the latch.
Perspiration poured from them both. The heat had nearly sapped all of their strength. Nia sat up with some effort, but directed a different question to Gillian this time.
“Do you want me to pray to God again for help?”
Scooting back into the room, Gillian’s face was drenched with tears of frustration mixed with the sweat of exertion. Wiping the moisture from her face, she leaned against the door and massaged her sore arm. Earlier she had assured Nia that the prayers of their family members were going straight to heaven.
“And you know that my mother’s prayers are real powerful because she’s a minister,” she had reassured her.
This time she answered, “It couldn’t hurt.”
Taking a sip from the water bottle, she watched as Nia slid onto her knees and began to pray. She was so weak from the heat that she swayed, but she stayed on her knees.
“Our Father, who is in heaven…”
Gillian resumed her position in the doggy door. Her strength was waning, but not her will. She had lost count of the number of times that she had tossed the noose upward, but she was prepared to repeat the action until she dropped. Once again she waited for the slack that would mean that her efforts had failed again, but there was no slack on the line this time. Gillian stilled.
“They kingdom come…”
She pulled on the pail handle lightly, no give.
“Thy will be done…”
The ribbon had hooked onto something.
“On earth...”
Gillian gave the handle another tug, but in her direction this time.
“As it is in heaven”
She tugged harder.
“Give us this day...”
There was a click. Nia froze. Her eyes slid toward her cousin.
Gillian moved back from the doggy door, afraid to breathe. She met her cousin’s eyes and they both turned their attention to the wooden door. Since there was no handle, Gillian pulled the bottom of the doggy door. The wood door opened a crack and a sliver of air rushed into the room. To the girls it felt like an Arctic breeze.
They looked at each other and grinned. It seemed as though God had done his very best for them on this day.
Moving quickly, Gillian knew there was no time to waste. Their captors might make an appearance at any time.
With renewed energy the girls quickly bundled their clothing and shoes, not bothering to squander their time dressing. Gillian grabbed a bottle of water and turned the light off in the room. Listening carefully for any sound, they eased the creaking wooden door open carefully and squeezed through it. The waft of air that greeted them when they stepped into the dark hallway was welcomed, but they didn’t take time to enjoy it. Closing the door behind them, Gillian locked it back firmly and removed the incriminating lasso from the latch, taking it with her.
Scurrying to the bathroom, the girls closed the door behind them hoping to muffle any sounds that might be made when they opened the window. As they approached it, Gillian whispered a prayer that they weren’t being held in an apartment building twenty stories high.
For the second time that day her prayer was answered. The latch on the window proved simple to unlock and it opened easily. The drop to the ground wasn’t far. She helped Nia outside first, with instructions to run if she told her to do so. Handing her their bundles, Gillian stole back to the bathroom door and then cracked it open as it had been when they entered the room. Hurriedly, she climbed out of the window, taking the pains to close it behind her, leaving no clue that she and Nia were no longer confined. Taking her bundle from her cousin, she took her by the hand and in the muted light of an early morning sunrise, the two small figures raced from the house like gazelles in flight.
CHAPTER 7
When Saturday morning dawned, everyone was exhausted. No one had caught more than catnaps all night. Most of it had been spent reviewing every possible person that Dana knew who could be a suspect in this case. She had gone through her files thoroughly trying to come up with the name of anyone she knew who might have committed this appalling act.
She was an entertainment attorney and her clients were wealthy members of the entertainment industry. As far as she knew no one of her acquaintance was so financially strapped that they would commit a federal crime.
It had been Agent Conway’s suggestion that she consider those people she knew who might be jealous of the Stewart’s enormous success. She thought the question naïve.
“Are you kidding?” Dana had scoffed. “This is Hollywood. Everybody is jealous of everybody.”
James, however, suggested other avenues. “I’m sure you guys are checking out the building staff: the janitors, the security staff, etcetera. They usually have master keys that admit them to all of the offices in a building. That would give them access to a lot of information.”
Agent Conway bristled at the suggestion. “We’re doing that,” he retorted. He seemed peeved that James might be upstaging him.
Taking it in stride, James quipped to Dana, “I seem to piss the cops off on all levels.”
****
An exhausted Sinclair Reasoner leaned against the center isle in his dressing room with his cell phone to his ear. Not wanting Nedra to hear his conversation, he had closed the door.
His effort to get his wife to rest had been unsuccessful. Neither of them had slept all night and they couldn’t sleep as long as their daughter wasn’t home. A few hours ago
the rising sun had announced the arrival of a new day. Only pure adrenaline had kept them going. He wasn’t concerned about himself. He was worried about Nedra—but help was on the way.
“We just landed,” Marva Davis told her son-in-law, referring to the private plane that had been sent for her. “It was a smooth ride all of the way.”
“Good.” Sin breathed a sigh of relief. “There’s an agent waiting for you at the gate. We don’t know who might be watching, so he’s dressed like a limo driver.”
“Alright. How’s everyone doing?” The concern in his mother-in-law’s voice mirrored his own.
“We’re holding up.” Sin pinched the bridge of his nose. He was so tired that his eyes were aching. “Darnell and Thad are staying here with us. Bev and Ray are holding the fort down at their house. Colin drove home from Stanford. We wanted to make sure that he was safe. Both of the boys seem to be hanging in there.”
“How about you? How are you doing?”
For the first time since this nightmare began Sin managed a smile. How he loved this woman. She was not only his surrogate mother, but his friend, his buddy. When he married her daughter, Marva had been an extra bonus. He even had a seven room “cottage” built for her on their property. It was for her to use whenever she came to visit. He hoped that when his mother-in-law decided to retire as the minister of the church that she led in Kansas City, Missouri she would make the cottage her home.
“I’m doing okay,” Sin answered without much conviction.
“No you’re not,” Marva said softly. “You’re hurting, and it’s alright to feel it. Just remember that I love you and that you’re in my prayers.”
“Thanks, Marva,” Sin replied. It was taking everything for him to contain his emotions.
After they disconnected, he felt better. He was glad he had contacted Marva. Her daughter hadn’t wanted to let her know what had happened. She didn’t want to worry her. He had disagreed and had defied his wife’s wishes. Darnell had her mother there to comfort her and he figured that his wife needed the same thing.
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