In the Nick of Time

by Laveen, Tiana

  “Open that closet right there… there’s a growth chart inside. He’s had some of the girls for almost a year! He’s been doing this for much longer than people realize—and one of the twins is dead. He drew a heart by her last growth spurt. That’s why the jackets were still in there.” He dashed away into the kitchen, giving directions amongst the chaos.

  “Go over this entire kitchen from top to bottom. He’s been sterilizing everything. Someone got hurt. There was blood. If you turn the UV light on this place, it will light up like the fourth of July. Do it and video tape it.”

  He snatched open the refrigerator door and pointed.

  “There are five types of fruit in there and four vegetables. That means there are nine girls that are alive in this house. He keeps checks and balances in odd ways, all over this fucking place. The girls’ names are in alphabetical order, either by first or last name.” He slammed the refrigerator door shut and raced up the steps, pausing where the jam had dried a little.

  “This is also how I know they are still alive, at least some of them,” he announced. “He’s been feeding them.” He pointed to the jam. “He was in a hurry, so he didn’t notice this. He has a long morning routine, but he’s never late for work, so some things have to wait until he returns…like cleaning up small messes.” He kept moving, racing about with his fellow officers on his heels. “Check this bathroom sink,” he instructed, pointing to it. “We need samples for forensics. There’s a clog in it. Water was a little backed up and drained slowly. It’s from long hair. He keeps his hair short. He washes their hair in here; it’s a routine, a ritual.” He looked towards the bars of soap. “He cleaned up some blood this morning. Look at the two bars of soap. They were originally white.”

  He kept on down the hallway, frantic, not sure his mouth could move fast enough to get it all out.

  “Follow me, keep up!” He kicked in the master bedroom door. “You see that fireplace?” He approached it. “Take a crowbar and pry off that wood. He’s got it blocked off… protecting something. This plywood is old, but the nails are new and shiny. He does this every damn day. Once you get behind the panels, you’ll more than likely see a lock. I’ve got the key.” He tossed it to one of the officers standing by the fireplace, then headed out the room, the noise growing louder as the sound of a drill from the first floor vibrated through the whole damn area. In another location commenced the swinging and bashing of a sledgehammer into a wall. A few moments later, someone from the first floor screamed out, “There’s blood down here!”

  Nick took his time descending the steps. As he reached the front door, he looked out onto the street and saw Christopher sitting in the back of one of the squad cars, his head down in his hands. A deep hatred for a man he didn’t know birthed itself within him at that very instant. He wanted to march over there, drag the bastard out, and beat him to death with his bare hands—and if given a moment alone with the bastard, he just might.

  “Oh my God!” someone screamed out so loudly, the air itself seemed to shake as if an earthquake pulsated below and above his body. Nick quickly looked over his shoulder and raced back into the house, fighting the crowd. On the first floor, part of the ceiling had been exposed. He rushed up the steps back to the master bedroom.

  “Oh …God…Oh God!” He slumped to his knees as he stared at the half knocked in fireplace, the wall partially torn apart, exposing old brick and emptiness, a portal to Hell…

  Inside the hole could be seen a small crawl area with drywall clinging loosely and waving around from a cold front. It seemed as though a set of jagged white teeth framed the area like a haunting, surreal picture before his eyes. Christmas lights hung within the thing, strewn back and forth, some of them ablaze more brightly than others, flickering just so, undoubtedly emitting an ungodly heat.

  Sitting right below the tinsel and fire hazard wiring were at least nine girls, their mouths bound with electrical tape, their thin bodies covered in silken gowns and frilly dresses with layers of tulle. Pairs of expressive dark eyes screamed on their tiny bodies’ behalf, but those same tormented eyes seemed unable to shed a single tear. Colorful bows covered in soot decorated their kinky curls, though a couple sported slender, neat braids.

  His throat tightened in horror, disgust, and anger he’d never felt before in his entire existence. Nick’s fingers trembled across his dry lips as he fought the urge to puke once the all too familiar scent of death settled on them, free from its hidden away coffin. He looked into their eyes, stared into them long and hard, forcing himself to acknowledge who sat before him, and accept that awareness, connect with their souls… No running. Look. Look at them. Remember them. Dolls…

  No.

  Little warriors…

  Some of them collapsed forward, others lay atop one another, bent and twisted in awkward ways, huddled together like a flesh-covered puzzle. Skin from dark brown to deep tan, they lay upon and against one another, as if the next one’s breath was only guaranteed by the young lady dying beside, beneath, or above her…

  Flashes of light came and went as officers took fast photos and voices sounded through handheld radios and speakerphones, while emergency medical personnel began their tedious work. The room grew eerily silent for a moment or two, as if everyone had fallen in mourning, and in a way, they all did.

  They mourned the moment before they’d seen such a thing, for no words could properly describe the horror in their midst. They mourned the innocent childhoods of the victims, for they’d never be the same…

  “Some are alive, some barely… this one is dead,” one of the paramedics stated as he snapped his gloves into place.

  Nick shuddered as hot, mad tears cascaded down his face. He groaned, gripped at the air, trying to hold on to something, anything… trying to keep it all together. But it was too late. He’d seen their souls; the connection was made. He cried on their behalf—one after the other until nine tears had crept down his face, never to be seen again…

  The chill in the room went from uncomfortable to unbearable. Taryn sat in the bright dressing room surrounded by layers of beauty. Things had finally quieted down, and she cherished a long sought after moment all to herself. The show had been an epic success, but she couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for herself as the mounting depression made her heart cave within. Her best friend was absent, null and void… gone. Twelve dozen cerise roses lay on the dresser, a gift of congratulations for a job well done. She picked them up, smiled a bit as she saw they were from Ambrose. The man hadn’t been able to make it as he was modeling in Amsterdam, but he’d sent his regards all the same. She picked up her phone, force of habit. No missed calls… no messages…as expected.

  You’re never late, always on time, always there for me… And now… nothing when I needed you most! Nick, where are you?!

  Her heart broke, replaying their odd prior conversations… dolls and houses…

  He’s working on that case, that’s it… That’s got to be it… He wouldn’t just not show up… but no call?

  She took a deep breath, pushing the negative thoughts aside, slipping into a new understanding.

  This was the man she loved. His life was dangerous, and sometimes things like this would happen. But what the hell had happened?!

  I can love him through it… I can…

  But it still hurt.

  She ran her fingers along her collarbone, plucked her phone up once more and dialed.

  Hi, you’ve reached Nick. I can’t answer right now but leave a message and I might call you back if you’re lucky…

  She disconnected the call, then heard a knock at the door.

  “Yes?” she called out, not in the mood for company just yet.

  “It’s me, Vicki! Come on, we’ve got to go!”

  “I’ll be out in a second!”

  “Okay, hurry! We’re supposed to be at Death and Company for an after party!”

  “I know. I’ll speed up, and thank you for your support!” Taryn called out.

 
“You’re welcome, Beautiful!” the woman said, her voice trailing at the end as her shadow disappeared from the doorway.

  Taking a deep breath, she spun around in her chair, scrolling her phone, reading all of the congratulations and tweets about the show. Social media was aflame with photos and video links of the show and Angelina Jolie had given them a shout out. Her lips kinked into a smirk then… the phone did a half ring before she snatched it up, jumping out of the chair.

  “Nick! Where are you?! What’s going on? Where have you been?!!!” Her voice shook and she hated it; she was beside her damn self.

  “Baby, I’m so sorry for missing your show. I know it was important to you… but… something happened.”

  “What? Are you okay?” She paced back and forth, not liking how he sounded. She’d never heard him like that before, as if the wind had been taken right out of his sails.

  “Turn on the news. I can’t really talk right now… just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you and I love you…”

  “I… I love you, too.”

  “I gotta go, Taryn. I’ll call you back as soon as possible, okay?”

  She wanted to ask more, demand answers, but she knew now was not the time. She pulled back, complied. He needed her to love him, not argue.

  “Yes, okay.”

  And then he hung up.

  She quickly went to her browser on her phone and sought the news coverage.

  “…What’s this?” On Yahoo’s front page, one of the headlines read, ‘Dollhouse Kidnapper arrested.’ “Oh my God…” She almost dropped her phone as she sank back down onto the seat. She clicked on the link and opened the video reportage of a newscaster in front of a small, white house, and Nick’s boss, Captain O’Sullivan, speaking to the media.

  That’s definitely Nick’s boss! He took me to his house for dinner one night!

  “Yes, we’ve started the process…” the man stated calmly, his chest poked out and chin high. He continued to speak, each word feeling heavier and heavier, and then, he finally said…

  “Thanks to the very hard, diligent work of Officer Vitale, this case is now under further investigation and the suspect has been apprehended and is in custody.”

  “How many girls were in the house?! What was his motive?!” A mob of reporters approached the man, bumping into one another.

  “I can’t answer any more questions at this time.” He casually held up his hand. “We will issue a press release as soon as possible but right now, our focus is on the investigation and getting medical care to the victims. Thank you, that’s all I can answer right now.” He turned his back to walk away as the original commentator gave final statements.

  “Nick!” Taryn’s eyes welled up as she placed the phone down on her dresser. She clamped her hands over her mouth, stifling a cry. “Oh Nick…Oh my God.” She trembled in her seat, unable to control herself. “I’m so proud of you, honey! So very proud!”

  …You’ve reached the mountaintop, baby… How’s the view?

  Captain O’Sullivan stood there with his hefty arms crossed over his gut, looking down at him.

  “How are they?” Nick questioned.

  “Well, some are better than others.” He sighed. “Two are fighting for their lives and the families have been notified. I’ve never seen anything like that in my entire life, and trust me, I’ve seen a lot.”

  Nick nodded in agreement and then, they were quiet for a minute or two.

  “I don’t know why they have me here. I don’t need to be here.” He looked around the hospital room in disgust. “If Taryn knew where I was right now she’d freak out. Besides, this is a waste of time. I need to be in that room talking to him.” Nick gritted his teeth, angry as hell. The captain had insisted he be checked over, and though he knew the routine, he resented the shit.

  “Someone else will do the interrogation, Nick.”

  “No! Please, I need to do this, Captain! You can’t do this, you can’t!” He sat up in the hospital bed, ready to go toe to toe with the man. He was met with a smirk, then an all out laugh.

  “Calm down, I was just pulling your chain. You know you’re on the new payroll now, right?” The big guy groaned as he took a seat beside him, clasped his hands together, and leaned forward.

  Nick’s brows dipped in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re Homicide now… Your test scores came back, you passed, you more than passed. You did excellent, actually. All you have to do is sign the paperwork when we get back…”

  Nick’s mouth dropped open as a sense of pride and relief washed over him.

  “I’m promoting you to detective. You’ve been doing it.” He shrugged. “When you left the precinct today, everybody was talking. Not one person in that damn building has a bad word to say about you, Nick. While you were in Firststone, at least once a day, someone brought you up, missing you, wishing you were around. We weren’t pissed because you had a drinking problem. We were pissed because that drinking problem took you away from us. The place wasn’t the same. You’re a hell of a man, and an unbelievable officer.”

  Nick looked away, suddenly feeling a bit strange. He was certain he’d be in a world of trouble for interfering in police business that was not his. Instead, he’d garnered a damn internal fan club.

  “I want you to know though, you were wrong about one thing you said when you were letting me have it today.”

  “What’s that?” Nick sat up a bit higher, listening intently.

  “I did trust you, Nick. No, I didn’t know you had a drinking problem—that’s the truth.” His eyes narrowed upon him. “And quite honestly, I felt like I’d missed it, maybe even turned a blind eye subconsciously. But here are the facts: I trusted you more than any other guy that’s been under me to do your job, and do it right. I saw your potential, and I knew more than you think I did.”

  “Then… why didn’t you let me get on homicide? I’ve been trying for years! I told you I was going to take the test, and you said it didn’t matter, that I wasn’t ready and you wouldn’t sign off on it. It really pissed me off! You saw that’s what I wanted. I made it no secret,” he asked, more confused than ever.

  “I knew you’d been doing homicide behind my back, Nick. I’m not stupid.” The man looked at him sternly. “You blabbed to everyone else today, so I had to save face, be quiet, but it had nothing to do with a lack of knowledge of what the hell you were up to, nor lack of faith in your abilities. Now yeah, I didn’t realize you’d been that busy.” He smirked. “But I knew you’d been involved in some of those cases. As long as you didn’t get caught doing the shit you did today, nothing illegal like breaking and entering,” he said with a grimace, “I stayed out of it. That part isn’t going into the report, of course…”

  “I would hope not,” Nick said with a smile. “You gave me my search warrant, thank goodness… It will all look on the up and up on paper.”

  Captain O’Sullivan nodded.

  “Anyway, in those other cases, you were helping, not hurting. I wasn’t going to get in the middle of that but I couldn’t co-sign the shit for obvious reasons! You weren’t supposed to be involved! At least not publicly… I didn’t let you move forward just yet because I had a personality issue with you, Nick. I knew once you took the exam you’d pass. Everyone knows it’s a hard test; less than ten percent of people who take it pass the damn thing, but I had no doubt you would. You’re smart—brilliant, some would say… Today is a perfect example of that. Anyway, that was the least of my concerns.”

  “A personality issue?” Nick said, not quite following the man.

  “Yeah, you’re hot headed, okay? Just like you’ve admitted. You had this anger inside of you.” His voice dropped as his eyes darkened. There was no sense in arguing or denying it—that assertion was true. The captain had seen the monster, the beast within…

  “You come across as very relaxed and cool under pressure, but I’ve watched you too long and too closely to buy that bull. There is somethin
g inside of you Nick that wants to tear the damn world up, and it could be potentially destructive. The Homicide unit is a tough one, you know that. It takes a special type of patrol officer to go from his beat to that. It’s no slow dance, no picnic! I needed that anger inside of you to be addressed first. I needed to find out what was going on with you, but I decided that I in fact may never know. I can’t put a guy in homicide if that guy has unresolved anger issues, no matter how much I like him, Nick. It had nothing to do with not trusting you to do the job; it went deeper than that. On top of it all, I didn’t want you burnt out before your light even got a chance to shine.

  “After I became aware of the cause of your behavior… which was the alcoholism and some trauma you’d experienced growing up, the hot head stuff,” he said with a shrug, “I felt better about it. As I was getting the weekly reports and updates about your progress, I had confidence that it might just work out after all. I’d already decided to put you on Homicide if you completed treatment, Nick. I couldn’t just have you come out of drug rehab, though, and put you on just like that. Wouldn’t have looked good. I needed to observe you a bit and you needed to get re-acclimated.”

  Nick nodded, understanding the man loud and clear. It all made sense now and he couldn’t dispute it… not a word of it.

  “Nick, I have a question for you.”

  “Yeah?” Nick ran his hand over his neck, working out a cramp.

  “How’d you do it? We’ve been working on that case for months, and contrary to your accusation, the guys have been busting their asses on it, trying to find out who was responsible. I would love just five minutes inside that head of yours.” He smiled proudly at him, like a father with his son…

  “I just started looking over the evidence, like I did in all the cases. I kept studying it is all.”

  “You become a tad obsessed, don’t you?” The man’s eyes turned to slits as he dug inside of him, forcing the truth to come out.

  “Yeah…”