by M T Stone
“She feels sorry for them, so she usually just says hi and gives them a smile,” Jana explained. “It’s kinda creepy, actually, but she thinks she’s doing a good deed or something.”
“And she talked to someone like that yesterday?”
“Yeah, there was a guy sitting on the bench by that entrance at the front of the park. The second time we went by him, he was staring at us. So she stopped and like . . . flirted with him a little bit,” she elaborated. “You should’ve seen the look on his face.”
“What did this guy look like?”
“He was kind of built, with long brown hair and dark eyes . . . his eyes almost looked black.” He could sense her shudder through the phone.
“Did he follow you?” Ryan rose from his seat and began pacing the floor, instantly brimming with anxiety.
“I didn’t see him again, but we weren’t really paying attention. We were on our way to the Dairy Bar for ice cream, and then we went back to your place,” she added.
“What time was this?” he asked, anxious to add it to the timeline.
“About five, I suppose. Yeah, a little after five.”
“Okay, thanks, Jana,” Ryan replied as the investigators came to the door. “I’ve got to go. The police are here. I’m sure they’ll be following up with you, so keep your phone close by.”
The Dairy Bar was right across the street from the park, and their house was only two blocks beyond there in the same direction. It would’ve been extremely easy for someone to keep a safe distance and still figure out exactly where she lived. She should’ve known better. He had warned her several times, ever since all the oil workers began arriving in town. The population of Westbury had more than doubled in the past five years, and the vast majority of them were young, single guys looking to make a quick buck and party during their days off.
“Pay special attention to any long brown hair you find,” Ryan mentioned to the investigators as they began combing the residence. “I’m going to call Chuck back and let him know what Summer’s friend just told us.”
“She was talking to a homeless guy?” Olivia whispered with a horrified look crossing her face.
“Well, she is your daughter,” he countered, covering the phone with his hand. “Always feeling sorry for anyone who seems lonely or out of place.”
Tears burst from Olivia’s eyes once again as she turned away. She needed to find a quiet spot to sit and pull herself together. It was true. Summer was definitely her daughter. They both had big hearts and tried to find the best in everyone, which is exactly why they both liked Dylan. She should’ve known better than to flirt with a stranger in this town, though, even if she was only trying to make his day.
Westbury had become a rough place over the past few years, and it no longer resembled the quiet community where she and Ryan had grown up. If Ryan’s family hadn’t struck oil, there is no doubt they would’ve left once the small city became completely overrun by strangers. Guys from all parts of the country had shown up with nothing but the clothes on their backs, looking to be part of the oil boom. Most didn’t even have a place to stay, so they would set up tents in the park or wherever they could. It was not a healthy situation for anyone raising children.
Dylan cursed under his breath as he sat on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. What the hell just happened? Getting pulled from a dead sleep and hauled down to the police station was one hell of a way to ruin a decent buzz. A shudder went through him as he thought about Summer. What had begun as the best night of his life had abruptly turned into an absolute nightmare. He could only imagine what had happened to her. He sent a silent wish to the man above that she was still alive and hadn’t been hurt. The odds were slim, as he knew damn well why someone would want to kidnap Summer. Her long, dark hair, beautiful, flirtatious blue eyes, and perfect body were an irresistible combination that had hooked him long ago. He hadn’t really pursued her until recently. One night, after a few beers, he finally called her and told her how he felt. After a few weeks of persistence, she finally went against her father’s wishes and agreed to go out with him. Things had obviously been working out too well.
“You look like you could use a friend,” a familiar voice called out, catching him off guard. He looked over and saw the shadow of a guy who was built like a brick shithouse walking toward his cell. As he approached, he could see his chiseled features, intense blue eyes, and the tattoos pouring out from beneath his short-sleeved shirt.
“Carson, what are you doing here?” Dylan rose from the corner of his bed and walked over to the edge of his cell, grabbing onto the metal bars.
“Patty called a couple of hours ago,” he replied, shaking his head at his nephew. “You finally get laid and it lands you in the slammer, huh? What the hell’s up with that?”
“Fuck . . . I’m sure Mom is a total basket case. How did you get here so fast?”
“I’ve been infiltrating a drug ring that’s been expanding just south of here, so I’m staying at a hotel just down the road.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “The judge would normally be up in an hour or so, but since it’s a Saturday, I won’t bother him until ten. I’ll get him to set a reasonable bail so I can get you out of here.”
“That’s good! Summer’s dad is being a total prick.” Dylan rubbed his eyes and let out a sigh. “Sergeant Reed and another detective interrogated me for almost two hours. It was like they thought I would confess to something if they pushed hard enough.”
“If she were my daughter, I would probably be busting the ass of the rebel boyfriend too,” Carson replied, giving him a sideways glance. “Don’t sweat it. I’ve gotten to know the judge pretty well. He’ll be fair.”
Carson Chase was Dylan’s uncle, his dad’s younger brother. After Dylan’s father was killed, Carson left the military too, returning to Westbury to help out his sister-in-law and mother. Just as things began to stabilize, however, he accepted a position with the DEA as a special agent working out of the Denver regional office. His abrupt departure had proven to be almost as hard on Dylan as the death of his father, but Carson had justified it by telling him that he had to get on with his own life too. He hadn’t seen much of him ever since, but that was to be expected. He had a demanding job, after all. At least he had come to his rescue now, in his darkest moment.
“Jesus, you’ve gotten big. But you need to get a little sleep so you can think straight,” Carson added before turning to leave. “I’ll be back with bail as soon as I hear from the judge.”
“Yeah, I need some sleep. My brain is mush. Thanks, Carson.”
Carson exited the holding area, determined to have a terse conversation with Sergeant Reed before going in search of a strong cup of coffee. Summer’s father was the type of guy who could really get under people’s skin. He routinely used his new-found wealth and success to intimidate those around him, and that apparently included local law enforcement. He could only imagine the pressure he had put on the department to find the assailant, but that was no excuse for the way they had treated Dylan. They needed to stop acting like small-town cops, since Westbury was no longer a small town.
Chapter 3
Summer released a whimper as she regained consciousness for a second time. Part of her was relieved to be back on solid ground. If only she had some idea where they were. The air was cool and damp, with a distinct smell of earthiness. She twisted and turned, but the zip ties bit harshly into her wrists each time she tried to move. She heard the creak of a door and could sense the presence of someone approaching her.
“Welcome back,” he said with a chuckle as he lifted her from the bed and carried her across the room.
Summer tried to scream, but once again, she was unable to part her lips. Her brain was even foggier than before, so she knew she had been drugged again. She remembered trying to break free when he lifted her from the boat. After that, she had hit the ground hard and didn’t remember much else.
“I�
�ll take off your blindfold now,” he grunted as he set her down on a hard wooden chair. A sticky adhesive pulled at her skin as he picked at it with his overgrown fingernails. Even though she was quickly adapting to all the harsh smells around her, his foul breath continued to turn her stomach. She braced herself for who and what was about to greet her on the other side of the blindfolds. She felt a sharp pain in the side of her head as his hand moved across it. She decided that she must have struck something when she had fallen to the ground.
Leo’s heartbeat quickened as he worked to remove the tape that had been chosen for its incredible stickiness. There hadn’t been a woman in the house since his mother died, and that was over twenty-five years ago. He couldn’t wait to see those gorgeous blue eyes that had mesmerized him the afternoon before in the park. She winced as he tugged hard enough to break the bond with her skin, and when she opened her eyelids, those beautiful eyes appeared. This time, however, they weren’t nearly as mesmerizing.
Summer let out a loud groan upon seeing the man from the bench in the park. The voice of her father immediately flooded her mind, his warnings gone unheeded. How did he know where she lived? Had he been lurking somewhere in the house, waiting for the opportunity to strike? How had they not noticed the smell of him? That stench would’ve given him away if he had been in her room when she got back home. Her mind flashed back to the way she had stumbled into the house and how Dylan had basically carried her up to her bedroom. He had asked her if she was going to be okay if he left her alone. She had simply told him to get out of there before her parents came home. She knew her father would kill them both if he found out she had been drinking.
Her brief flashback was abruptly interrupted by another blast of foul breath. “If I take the tape off your mouth, do you promise not to scream?” He glanced over to his left and picked up a long, thin knife from the edge of a large wooden table.
She tried to answer but could only nod. Yes, she promised not to scream. She had a strong feeling that screaming would be useless now anyway. They appeared to be far from civilization, and with her hands and feet bound, screaming would only aggravate her captor. Even though he didn’t seem overtly violent, he definitely didn’t seem to be completely sane either. He carefully peeled the tape away from her mouth the same way he had done with the blindfold. She winced several times as she felt the tiny hairs being plucked from her skin.
“Sorry for using such strong tape,” he commented as he slowly began to reveal her stinging lips. “I didn’t want to take any chances.”
She stared blankly, not sure how to reply. “That really hurt,” she finally said as he completed the task. She focused on the knife that remained in his left hand.
“It’s for skinning deer,” he told her before slipping it back into its designated slot at the rear of the table. “I do taxidermy,” he added as he took a few steps to retrieve an old rust-colored log chain. One end of the chain was sunk right into the concrete, while the other end had an old metal shackle of some type. “Dad used to call this the babysitter,” he said with a grimace. “It kept me out of trouble whenever he had to go somewhere. He originally made it for Mom,” he explained while unlocking the padlock from the side of the shackle. “With all the mountain lions, bears and wolves out here, I really doubt either of us could’ve made it out of here alive anyway.”
Tears began to flood Summer’s eyes as her state of shock began to give way, leaving her with the realization that she was indeed being held captive by some kind of backwoods lunatic. Her entire body shook as he bent down and put the shackle on her left ankle and locked it in place.
“Stop crying!” he demanded, looking up at her with disgust in his eyes. “I told you I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Then why are you doing this to me?” she whimpered through her tears.
He gave her a puzzled look as if she were the one who was crazy. “Because it’s time for me to have a son. I’m gonna need someone to help me when I’m older.”
“You can’t just kidnap someone and make her your wife,” she replied, sobbing almost uncontrollably. “We aren’t animals!”
“That’s the way it’s done in our family,” he stated as a matter of fact. “Unfortunately, my mom died when I was only two, so Pa had to raise me alone. That’s why I was glad to see that you looked good and healthy. You don’t want to be getting sick out here.”
“Is that what happened to your mom?” Summer gasped.
“Pa said she was never all that healthy,” Leo replied. “She was always burning up with some sort of fever. One night, she just died on us.”
“Were you born out here?” Summer asked, recoiling at the thought of giving birth in such a desolate and dreary place. She had no idea earthen homes still existed, much less ever been in one. The walls exposed the rocks, layers of sod, and mud that had been used in its construction.
“Right over there.” He pointed to the old double bed in the corner of the room.
Summer’s mind began spinning even faster. His father had impregnated a woman to bear him a son and then denied her any medical assistance when she was obviously ill. It was clear that Leo had the same warped plan in mind. She suddenly lurched forward, spewing the contents of her stomach onto the floor in front of her. She continued to hang her head, spitting, trying to rid her mouth of the acrid remains. “Could you untie my hands, please, and give me something to wipe my face?” she begged, still gagging, coughing, and trying desperately to clear her throat.
Without a word, he grabbed an even thinner knife and slipped it between her skin and the zip ties. With one quick jerk, both were released due to the sharpness of the blade. “That one’s for fileting fish.”
She spat one last time before wiping her mouth on the tattered cloth napkin that he had handed her. She glanced over at the row of knives that were neatly organized at the back of the table. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, placing the tip of the knife blade beneath her chin and guiding her eyes back to his. “If I can’t trust you, I’ll be forced to replace you.” Her stomach revolted once again, forcing her to lunge forward in spite of the knife. A searing pain beneath her chin accompanied the release of the remaining acidic bile from her stomach. “Maybe you’re not as strong as I thought,” he scoffed. “I’ll get you a bandage.”
She hung her head, gasping once again, trying to regain control of her body’s frantic impulses. Blood dripped rapidly from her chin, splattering on the concrete floor beneath her. Red streaks began to trace their way across her toes and feet, making her realize that she no longer possessed so much as a pair of shoes. She thought about all the clothes and shoes uselessly inhabiting her closet at home. Now her wardrobe was limited to a red cropped top, black lace panties, and a pair of very old, distressed denim capris. Her next thought was how hard it would be to escape without a decent pair of shoes.
“I’m sorry I cut you,” Leo said softly, placing a damp cloth on her cut. He held it tight as she shrieked in pain due to the alcohol that he had poured onto it. “I know that hurts, but it will keep it from getting infected.” He continued to dab the cloth against the cut, sending repeated sharp pains through her jaw. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, desperate for him to stop. He continued to hold the rag in place while reaching for the blindfold to recycle a piece of tape. “This will hold it in place for now.”
He looked into her eyes, apparently searching for forgiveness, but Summer was too stunned to reply. “You sit tight. I’ll go find us something to eat,” Leo told her before rising back to his feet, grabbing a shovel, and heading out the door. She sat there, stunned for a moment, running her fingers across the bandage while desperately racking her brain, trying to figure out what to do. She held the enchained foot out in front of her, anxious to see how much of a gap there was between the metal cuff and her skin. Encouraged by the sight of it, she straightened her foot and tried to push it down past her heel. That didn’t work. It was too tight. She thought about how her dad had always used lotion
to get his wedding ring on and off. It was doubtful that Leo used hand lotion, but he obviously had butter or some sort of cooking oil.
The real question, though, was what she would do if she broke free. She had no idea where they were or even which direction to go. Besides, he had already alluded to all the predatory animals in the area. She slumped back in the chair, struggling for a rational next move. She turned and looked at the knives resting at the back of the adjacent table. They were well beyond her reach, so she tugged at the corner of the table, but it didn’t budge.
“It’s bolted to the wall,” Leo told her as he came through the door with a handful of potatoes and a few carrots. “Don’t worry, I made sure everything is out of reach. I’m not stupid.”
“I know you’re not stupid,” she hissed. “But I’m not stupid either. I’m not going to just let you have your way with me.”
“How are you going to stop me?” he asked with a menacing look in his eyes. “Tell me,” he persisted, moving in front of her and wrapping his fingers around her throat. “I could choke the life right outta you with one hand,” he said, lifting her from the chair and pushing her up against the prickly surface of the wall. “And there isn’t shit you could do about it.”
She punched him in the gut with everything she could muster, but he didn’t even flinch. So, she kicked him in the groin with her free foot before punching him again. The kick to the groin definitely hurt, but it only made him tighten his grip on her neck as anger raged in his eyes. “Kick me again, and I’ll snap your fuckin’ neck,” he seethed as her complexion turned from deep red to a sickening shade of blue. “Go ahead . . . kick me!”
She closed her eyes and shook her head from side to side in an act of submission. Leo held her there for a few more seconds before slowly lowering her to the chair. “My dad beat me for the first seventeen years of my life, so I’m pretty good at handling pain,” he told her as he turned away, going back to the potatoes and carrots he had dug from the garden. “If you get a hold of one of those knives, you’d better wait until I’m sound asleep before you try to use it. You’ll only get one chance.” He glanced back, giving her another haunting look.
