by L E Fraser
Feathery kisses flutter across my fingertips. “I’m here,” Bart says. “I’m right here. Follow my fingers and I’ll lead you to the door.”
I wrap my fingers through the cage and pull my body closer.
“You’re doing really well,” Bart says.
“Is she by your door?” Gavin asks. “Angel, can you get to the stairs and the light switch?”
Bart’s fingers caress my face through the openings in the woven metal. “She needs to rest.”
“She can’t rest. We need light and we need to get the fuck out of here. Now!”
“Angel, remember I told you my little sister broke her femur?” Bart asks. “My mother taught her to scoot so she could move without her wheelchair. Hope sat on her ass, put her arms by her sides, and used her flattened hands to move backwards. The stairs are right in front of my door and beside Gavin. The light switch is on the wall to the left of the stairs.”
I want to make him proud. “I’ll try.”
I roll over, sit up, and begin to move. It is easier than lying on my stomach and sliding. Bart and Gavin are yelling encouragement. Finally, I hit the bottom stair and shift two metres to my left, searching for the wall. When I hit it, I balance precariously on my good leg and swipe my hand against the wall. I fall three times but on the fourth attempt, my finger locates the switch. Fluorescent lights hum. I collapse from exhaustion. But I want Bart and dig deep so I can reverse my movements.
“No!” Gavin yells. “You have to get up the stairs.”
I remember driving to the cabin. The lane from the old highway winds through the wilderness. The dirt road to the log house is over five kilometres. Even if I could walk, I wouldn’t be able to travel through the snow. Ignoring Gavin, I keep moving in Bart’s direction.
“There could be a phone up there,” Gavin insists.
There is no phone. Aleksia called it a tech-free weekend. Eager to please my friend, I left my phone and computer at the apartment. When we arrived, I explored every room, while imagining the memories we’d share on our adventure. Aleksia had invited me to check out the cellar. I had clung to her arm and giggled as she navigated us through the darkness. I willingly descended into hell on the arm of the devil.
When I reach Bart’s cage, he dribbles cool water across my fevered face. The caked blood moistens and runs into my gaping mouth.
“Take a rest,” he whispers.
“She can’t take a fucking rest!” Gavin screams. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
“She can’t make it up the stairs.” Through the chain-link separating us, Bart presses his face against mine. His hot tears coat my cheek.
“My grandparents’ house has cellar doors.” Excitement fills Gavin’s voice. “There could be an exit down here. Come on, man! You have to try.”
My vision distorts until the view of the room is through a fisheye lens. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
An ethereal apparition in white kneels beside me. Sarah’s long blond hair falls in warm silken strands against my cheek.
“Why couldn’t you love me?” I ask my sister.
She places her hand on my leg and the pain fades away. “Hush now,” she says. “He’s coming for you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Eli
WHILE DANNY WORKED to break into the CBSA database, Eli chatted to her about 1970 pinball machines, a subject he found fascinating. Danny didn’t share his passion, apparently, because she bluntly told him to shut up. When he spilled pop across her desk, she freaked out and yelled at him to leave her alone. With nothing to do until Reece texted him, Eli sauntered into the peaceful solarium.
Through the glass, a full moon over Lake Ontario created a sense of magic. Steam rose in tantalizing ribbons from the hot tub. There was a hint of floral fragrance from the blooming tropical plants, and underwater lights painted the mirror surface of the saltwater pool a soft blue. On the semicircular stairs that descended into the water, strip lighting transformed from violet to pale pink, inviting him to swim and relax. This was his favourite place in a chaotic world filled with social enigmas he couldn’t decipher.
Eli placed his Taser safely on a lounge chair, stripped, and stepped into the water. His body caused gentle waves to break across the still surface. He floated weightlessly on his back, hypnotized by large snowflakes that fluttered from the dark sky to slide down the warm sides of the glass solarium. The tranquil rhythm of drifting was soothing. Eli’s stress melted away and his eyelids grew heavy.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Eli jerked awake, sank like a stone, and gulped a mouthful of saltwater. Sputtering, he rose to the surface and blinked at his sister.
“Reece has been trying to reach you.” Danny waved his phone. “You’re supposed to meet him at the office. Like right now,” she said. “I called you a cab. Get moving.” She stomped into the penthouse.
Scrambling out of the pool, Eli grabbed a fluffy white towel and dried off with clumsy motions. He tugged on his T-shirt. It stuck against his wet skin and he couldn’t get his arms through the sleeves. Grunting with frustration, he shoved the shirt over his head and scrambled to do up his jeans.
Without bothering to say goodbye to Danny, he scurried to the private elevator. During the ride to the lobby, he put on his boots and coat. A cab idled outside the executive entrance and Eli jumped in, shouting the office address in much too loud a voice. Today, Sam and Reece had treated him with the same respect they extended to their colleagues. And he was blowing their positive impression because he had wasted time, splashing around his pool like an entitled rich dude.
Eli paid the cabbie and glanced up at the windows above the closed bakery. The office was dark. Not a good sign. He hoped Reece was waiting in the back parking lot and hadn’t ditched him. Freezing, Eli put up his jacket hood, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and jogged down the alley to the dark lot.
Just as he rounded the corner, he spied Reece standing beside his Camry. Eli raised his hand but his greeting froze on his lips. A dark figure leaped from the shadows. Blue light crackled against Reece’s neck and he collapsed. Confused and panicked, Eli fumbled for his Taser. He’d have to get closer to hit Reece’s attacker. If he was quiet, he might be able to close the distance. The belt holster was empty. Oh God. He’d left the gun at the penthouse. Should he yell and try to scare the person away? Paralyzed with indecision, Eli gawked as the scene unravelled.
The interior light of Reece’s car flicked on and the perp stuffed Reece into the backseat. His abductor spit something on the ground and leaned into the car. Then the figure slammed the door shut, circled the Camry, and flew into the driver’s seat. The car swung into the narrow alley. With a shriek, Eli flattened his body against the wall. The car raced by, missing him by mere centimetres. Horrified, he stared helpless as the Toyota disappeared.
He ran into the lot, turning in a tight circle. “This is not good. This is very bad.”
His foot kicked something and he grabbed his cell, activating the light. He scanned the beam across the wet asphalt. Reece’s phone. Eli picked it up and wiped off a thin layer of slush. From the corner of his eye, he caught a flash and twisted around to shine the light to his left. A yellow plastic cap lay on the snow. Eli took a mint container from his pocket and spilled the tiny white candies into his pocket. He stuck a pen into the cap and dropped it into the container.
He sprinted to the street. A cab was trolling for a fare. Eli hurled himself into the road, waving his hands. After shrieking the address to an alarmed cabbie, he flopped into the backseat. His hands shook as he called Sam.
“Someone took Reece. In the parking lot. Put him in a car. Drove away. Hit him with a stun gun. I did not know what to do. I was too slow. I could not follow.” He paused for breath.
“Eli, where are you?”
The calmness in her voice settled his jangling nerves. “In a cab. Coming to the loft. Someone took him from the parking lot. They—”
“What parking lot?” she
asked.
“The office. They stunned him and put him in a car. He dropped his phone and—”
“Did you get a plate number?”
“His car,” he yelled. “Reece’s car.”
“I’ll meet you outside my building.” She hung up.
The cabbie’s eyes kept flicking nervously into the rear-view mirror. Eli squelched his manic need to talk and began to rock, snapping the elastic on his wrist. His thoughts raced incoherently, and his eyes darted everywhere.
The second they pulled in front of the building, Sam yanked open the cab door. She grabbed Eli’s arm and dragged him onto the sidewalk.
“Hey, do you want me to call the cops?” The cabbie eyed Eli suspiciously. “This guy says someone got snatched by a perv in a parking lot.”
“I am the cops.” Sam threw him money and slammed the door shut.
She opened the driver’s side door of her grey rental car. Her coat flapped open and Eli glimpsed a large gun in a shoulder holster. “Get in the car,” she said.
The second he’d settled his butt in the passenger seat, she took off, leaving him to wrench the door closed as they sped toward the highway. She tossed her phone at him.
“Reece’s car is headed north,” she said. “You navigate.”
Eli studied an open GPS map. A blue teardrop moved steadily along a major highway. “You put a tracker on his vehicle?”
“Find a cell number for Bryce Mansfield on Reece’s phone,” she ordered.
He dropped her phone on his lap and took Reece’s cell from his pocket. “There is no number.”
“Call homicide and put it on speaker.”
When an official voice answered, Sam asked for Bryce but he wasn’t in the office. She left an urgent message, begging the officer to reach Staff Inspector Mansfield and have him return her call.
They continued north through the snow and Eli explained everything he’d witnessed. Sam’s jaw tightened and her hands tensed on the steering wheel, but she said nothing.
“I could not tell if it was a man or a woman,” Eli concluded. “It was too dark.”
“It was a woman,” she said with grim certainty.
“She spit this on the ground. I did not touch it.” Eli turned on the interior light and held the plastic mint container in Sam’s range of vision. “What is it?”
“It’s the needle cover for a hypodermic syringe,” she said. “Why isn’t Bryce calling back?”
“Talk to someone else.” Eli scrolled through Reece’s contacts. “There is a private number for Gretchen Dumont.” Without waiting for permission, he dialled the Crown prosecutor.
A gruff woman’s voice answered.
“Gretchen, this is Sam McNamara, Reece Hash’s partner. I need—”
“I know who you are Ms. McNamara. Why are you calling me at eleven-thirty at night?”
“I have reason to believe that the Frozen Statue Killer abducted Reece approximately ninety minutes ago. I’m in pursuit, about an hour north of Toronto.”
Sam quickly explained what had happened.
When Gretchen didn’t respond, Sam said, “Reece talked to Bryce tonight. We suspect that Aleksia Berisha—Jerry Lutz’s stepdaughter—is the killer. One of my people is trying to trace the name on the passport she used to enter Canada.”
“Take the next exit.” Eli peered at the map. “About a kilometre north, turn left and then right. That will take us to what appears to be an old country highway that runs northeast.”
“Son of a bitch,” Sam yelled. “She’s taking Reece to Incubus’s kill cabin. I’m sure of it.”
“It burned to the ground,” Gretchen insisted. “Lutz’s lawyer filed a claim against the City of Toronto for damages.”
“He lied!” Sam yelled. “Did anyone check to see if the cabin was destroyed?”
“It wasn’t within my purview,” Gretchen replied. “But a plaintiff can’t file for damages when there isn’t any damage.”
Frustrated by her stubbornness, Eli clasped his hand over his mouth so he didn’t blurt out something offensive. People had often called him obtuse, but this woman was being more stubborn and literal-minded than he ever had been. All she had to do was to pull the archived case and discover what steps—if any—the defendant had taken after the Court Registrar had issued the claim. Even he knew that, with just Police Foundations and two years of criminology. If Gretchen wasn’t reaching that conclusion on her own, she was an idiot. Eli did not want the Frozen Statue Killer to gouge his eyes out and freeze his dead corpse into a grotesque pose. They needed police and they needed them now.
Exasperated, Eli texted Danny and told her to find out if anyone at the City of Toronto had verified Lutz’s claim that the cabin had burned.
“Incubus wanted authorities to believe the cabin was gone,” Sam said to Gretchen. “He’s mentoring the Frozen Statue Killer and that’s where she holds her captives. That cabin was the inspiration for Incubus’s art.”
Snow hammered the car. The windshield wipers left long streaks against the dirty window as they beat a path through the mountain of wet flakes. Eli tightened his seatbelt as Sam sped onto the exit. The tires spun on a patch of black ice and the car fishtailed. She expertly turned into the skid and straightened the vehicle. As she hit the slippery surface of a country road, the anti-lock braking system kicked in and made a grinding noise, warning them to slow down. She didn’t reduce their speed. Eli stiffened and clenched the grip-handle above his window.
“The cabin is not there,” Gretchen insisted. “Someone must have checked after Lutz’s attorney filed the Statement of Claim.”
Eli’s phone vibrated and he read Danny’s text.
“You are wrong. No one checked.” he said. “Lutz dropped the claim before the city investigated. Stop being so stupid and confirm it yourself.”
“Who is that?” Gretchen demanded.
“Get police backup to that cabin,” Sam said. “Now.”
“I’ll speak to Bryce. It’s up to him whether to send the OPP on a wild goose chase in a blizzard.” Gretchen hung up.
They turned onto the old highway, and the weather turned uglier with every rotation of their wheels. Visibility was near zero. The two-lane road twisted and turned, cutting a narrow path between gigantic escarpments. Sharp rocks protruded from the steep slope outside Eli’s window. If the wheels slipped at this speed, one of the rocks would crush his skull like a melon. For the first time in his twenty-five years, Eli contemplated his own mortality. If he died on the side of the road in a fiery car crash, he’d leave so much undone. Instead of suffering guilt over his vast wealth and worrying about people using him for his money, he should be doing something worthwhile with it. A charity ranch for kids with Asperger syndrome would be fun. Somewhere they could be themselves without having to struggle to decode nonverbal communications. He could buy property with a stable and have horses. From what Reece had described, Uthisca would be perfect.
After an hour had passed in strained silence, he asked Sam, “Do you think Margaret Walsh would go out with me?”
“What?”
“I would enjoy inviting Margaret Walsh on a date.” He cleared his throat.
“Considering the way she flirted with you when you met her, I’d say you stand a good chance,” Sam said.
“She flirted?” He hadn’t thought that. In fact, he’d believed Margaret was making fun of him.
“If you survive tonight, ask her out,” Sam said. “For now, park your personal issues.”
They rode in silence and the pitch darkness and thick white snow increased Eli’s growing anxiety.
Another hour passed and Sam said, “Watch for yellow markers on your side. They should be around the next bend.”
“Have you done stuff like this before?” he asked.
“A few times,” she mumbled.
He glanced at Sam’s cell. The map was gone. He checked his phone and Reece’s cell. “We’ve lost cell service,” he said.
“It doesn’t matter,”
she replied tersely.
“I don’t have my Taser,” he said.
“You don’t need it. You’re staying in the car.”
He was not staying in the car but Eli didn’t argue. Sam slowed to a crawl and he peered through the window, hunting for the yellow markers to a hidden lane that led to a sociopath.
“It’s there.” Eli swallowed hard.
She slammed on the brakes. They slid a metre but she maintained control. She reversed and turned into the lane. There were wheel impressions in the deep snow. A car had travelled down the lane recently. Someone was at the cabin.
“Are you scared?” Eli asked.
“Yes,” she said. “If this ends the way I fear it will, Incubus will get what he wants from me. I can’t let that happen.”
The car spun into a skid. They flew off the lane and hurtled into the woods, bouncing across rocks and mowing down brush. A mammoth tree trunk filled the windshield.
Eli crossed his arms in front of his face and braced for impact.
CHAPTER FORTY
Reece
REECE FLUTTERED IN and out of consciousness. The first time, he’d woken to pitch darkness and the drone of an engine. The second time, he’d tried in vain to roll over to diminish a piercing stab in his shoulder. This time, he focused on the pain and used it to remain conscious. Disoriented and groggy, he tried again to move. He had no sensation in his lower extremities. He was paralyzed and blind. There was just the pulsing agony in his head and the burning in his shoulders. His stomach clenched and bile burned his throat. Swallowing, he counted every torturous throb that pounded his skull, willing himself to keep his breath slow and steady. His mouth was dry and his nose was congested. Reece cleared his mind of panicked chaos and assessed his physical symptoms with detachment. He had been drugged.
Something covered his face. He stuck out his tongue and gagged on fuzzy fibres. A woollen cap. That was why he couldn’t see. A faint aroma of lemon clung to the wool. With painful sluggishness, his eyes adjusted to the minimal light. Through the tiny gaps in the yarn, he detected the lit dashboard of a car and the silhouette of bucket seats. He was in the rear seat of a moving vehicle, lying on his side.
