by M T Stone
“But you’ve seen him before?”
“I might have, but I can’t say for sure from a little picture like that.” The old man pulled back from the phone to lift his glasses and rub his eyes. “These eyes ain’t what they used to be, ya know.”
“It might help if you cleaned your glasses, too,” Carson said with a chuckle, pulling a business card from his shirt pocket. “Keep an eye out for him, and if you happen to see him or the van, give me a call right away on my cell.”
“Okay, will do. I’ll leave it right up here on the till and let Sam know too,” the man replied, placing the card in a prominent spot. “She’ll be taking over in about half an hour.”
Carson turned back toward Dylan and both men exited the small store, heading back to the SUV. “There’s about twelve miles between here and Belleville. That’s a lot of open country,” Dylan said, looking at a Google map on his phone.
“Yeah, but I’m betting he’ll come back in this direction if he needs any supplies,” Carson replied, opening the door and slipping back into the driver’s seat. “I don’t think there’s even a gas station to the north of here—at least not within forty miles.”
“How do you know he didn’t turn south? There are quite a few little towns down there,” Dylan reminded him, turning his phone to show him the map.
“No, it’s all open, flat farmland to the south. I have a feeling he would’ve gone north into the hills, where it’s easier to hide. But . . . that’s just a guess at this point. It’s all about playing the odds.” Carson pulled up the same map on his phone and quickly scanned the terrain between the two small towns. “There are only two decent roads that head north. One connects a half-dozen large farms to each other, and the one five miles east of here goes straight up into hill country. I seriously doubt that our suspect is a farmer.”
“You’re probably right. So, what’s our next move?” Dylan started feeling like they were beginning to make real progress toward finding her.
“I’m going to check with the sheriff’s department to see if they can dispatch an unmarked car with a couple of guys to keep an eye on Belleville and maybe one more at the state line, just in case he decides to revisit the scene of the crime.” He pulled up the number on his phone and punched the button. “You and I will stake out the entrance to hill country,” he added while waiting for an answer.
Dylan still felt a flash of anger each time he thought about the fact that some creepy guy had stolen her from him. After making forward progress, it now seemed like they were going to waste a lot of time sitting around in hopes of getting lucky. Montana was a damn big state to sit in one spot, but then again, who was he to be second-guessing his uncle? For years, he had heard the stories of his big drug busts and heroics. Compared to the Westbury police department, he was definitely the smartest guy in the room.
Chapter 5
Leo spooned potatoes, carrots, onions, and a few pieces of browned meat onto a well-worn plate and set it on the table in front of Summer. He watched her facial expressions for a few seconds before turning to retrieve a helping for himself. Meals like this were the staple of Leo’s diet. Seasoning with salt, pepper, and freshly cut onions were the extent of his culinary repertoire. “Eat up,” he grunted as he joined her at the small table.
“What is this?” she asked, rolling one of the pieces of meat with her fork.
“It’s rabbit,” he muttered, his mouth already full of food. “It’s good.”
Her stomach was twisted in knots from an excruciatingly stressful day, but she decided that she needed to give it a try. She stabbed the smallest piece of meat, added a slice of carrot, then a piece of potato and slid it onto her tongue. Leo paused, waiting for her reaction. She nodded her head affirmatively as she chewed. “That’s pretty good,” she muttered after swallowing.
“I’m glad you like it,” Leo replied, knowing that she would be enduring many similar meals in the coming months. If he had known in the spring that he would have two mouths to feed, he would’ve planted a bigger garden with a wider variety of vegetables. It was too late to worry about that, though. Maybe next year. Once winter arrived, he would have to snag a couple of extra deer so they would have plenty to eat.
“What time is it?” she asked, having lost all track of time.
“It’s early afternoon,” Leo replied, looking at the wall to gauge the position of the sun. “I normally eat earlier, but I wanted to wait for you to wake up.”
“What did you drug me with?” she asked, still not feeling very good.
“I don’t know,” he confessed. “It’s something Dad had in the cabinet. He used it on me after I beat him up the second time. When I woke up, he had me gagged and tied just like I did to you.”
“So that’s where you learned to do it.” She gave him a crossways glance before turning her attention back to the meal. The dull throb in the side of her head continued to grow, making her wonder whether it was from her fall, a result of being stabbed, or a side-effect of the drugs. After considering it for a few minutes, she decided that based on her current predicament, a headache was probably the least of her worries.
“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” she asked after several minutes, growing tired of the awkward silence that continued to permeate the room. Summer was not someone who was used to sitting around in silence without playing music or having the TV on. She normally had both in the background while talking or texting on her phone.
“Girlfriend?” Leo shook his head from side to side with a stunned look on his face. “I’ve never even had a friend.” He blinked his eyes a few times before looking down at his plate. Summer actually felt a bit sorry for him. He seemed to have hurt feelings following the admission.
“I think you and I should be friends,” she replied, silently praying that he would be excited by the prospect of having one.
He looked up from his plate, and she could just see his wheels turning. “My son will be my friend,” he replied after thinking about it for a few seconds. That’s why I brought you here. I’m going to be good to my son so he’ll be my friend. Girls don’t make good friends. My dad told me that.”
“That’s not true,” she protested. “Some of my best friends are boys. I would rather hang out with boys than a lot of the girls I know.”
“Boys just like you because you’re pretty. And you like boys because they’re boys,” he added, studying her face once again. “Do you like me?”
“I don’t really know you yet,” she replied honestly, looking down at her plate to break eye contact. “That’s why I thought we should start as friends and get to know each other a little bit. That’s pretty much how dating works.”
“I don’t know anything about dating,” he confessed. “I read a book about sex that my dad gave me. It showed all the ways to do it. It didn’t mention anything about dating or being friends.”
He had never had a friend, much less a girlfriend, but he had apparently studied the Kamasutra. Summer cringed at the thought of it. The sun was already beginning to droop in the west. She could tell by the low angle of the sun’s rays against the wall, and it made her worried. She had tried not to think about what would happen after dark, but with sunset drawing ever closer, she continued to try to befriend him.
“I would still like to be your friend, and I’ll even teach you all about dating,” she told him with a crack in her voice. “Everyone needs a friend.”
“I told you, my son will be my best friend,” he reiterated firmly before taking both of their plates from the table. He threw the food scraps in a bucket before squirting dish soap into the same water bucket he had used to wash the vegetables. There was a definite routine to everything he did and a certain stubbornness in his way of thinking. He seemed to be one of those people who had a hard time changing his mind, even if he knew little about the subject at hand. Summer wasn’t about to give up, however.
“Kids love you when they’re young, but when they hit those teenage years, most want nothing to do w
ith you,” she explained. “He’ll want friends his own age instead of hanging out with his old man all the time. I’m sure you remember what that felt like.”
“I hated my dad,” he replied with venom in his voice. “That’s why I let him die when he got sick, the same way he did to Mom.” He closed his eyes and held them shut, looking as if he were trying to suppress some horrible memories. After several seconds, he opened them, blinked a few times, and turned back to Summer. “What do you do on a date?” he asked, obviously at least a little curious as to what he had missed out on.
“The first thing you have to do is get ready for the date,” she told him. “The most important things to do are to shower, shave, and brush your teeth. I think you should start getting ready, and then I’ll show you how a date works.”
“Saturday night is bath night anyhow,” he said with a shrug. He grabbed the pail that had been used to wash the vegetables, as well as the dishes, and headed out the door. Summer couldn’t see him, but she could hear the squeaking of the pump handle. He was apparently getting water for his bath. A moment later, he returned to retrieve a second pail. “It’s going to take a while for these to heat,” he told her before heading back to the well to fill the second bucket.
When the pump stopped squeaking for the second time, Summer leaned forward just enough to see him through the doorway. He was positioning the two buckets on the metal grate above the fire pit. She thought about how great a nice hot shower would feel at the moment, another of life’s simple pleasures that she had always taken for granted. She felt a lump forming in her throat again, and her eyes began to water. She couldn’t help wondering if she was ever going to see her family and friends again. Deep down, she knew there had to be a frantic search and rescue mission underway, but she also knew that they were somewhere deep in the back woods. She was trying her best to remain strong, but her body continued to shake uncontrollably.
“Are you cold?” Leo asked after coming back inside and noticing the trembling.
“Yes.” She shuddered, not wanting him to know that it was primarily a result of the sheer terror of being stuck out here with him.
He opened a wooden chest, pulled out a patchwork quilt, and draped it over her shoulders. “I still have Mom’s socks too,” he told her after realizing that the concrete floor was probably the source of her chills. He went back to the chest and pulled out an old pair of multi-colored knee-high socks that had obviously been hand knitted. “I’ll let you wash that blood off as soon as the bath water is ready. Then you can put on the socks. I think she made them.”
Summer lifted her left foot and rested it on her right knee, squeezing her toes in her hand in an attempt to warm them. She hadn’t realized how cold they were until he brought it to her attention. “I’m going to need some clothes,” she told him. “I can’t wear these every day.”
“I have money now,” he assured her. “I have to pay the taxes on this place and get a solar water heater. After that, we can spend some of what’s left on clothes.” He walked over to the old refrigerator and opened the small freezer door inside. He pulled out an envelope and opened it to show her. “That’s five thousand dollars,” he bragged with a big smile crossing his face.
“Where did you get that?” she asked, shocked that a man who looked like him would have a single hundred-dollar bill, much less an envelope full of them.
“I did a job for a guy, and he paid me in cash.” He continued to smile as he bent down and put the money back in its place. “Do you like whiskey?” he asked as he strode over to a large cupboard on the other side of the room and pulled out a bottle.
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried it.” She wrinkled her nose and placed her hand over her stomach. “I’m not even sure I could. My stomach is still totally messed up.”
“I’ve always liked whiskey,” he replied, pulling the cork, putting the bottle to his lips, and tipping it in the air. “It makes me feel better,” he added after lowering the bottle several seconds later. “My dad showed me how to make it. There’s a still out back. In the fall, I make enough to last for a whole year. If you decide you like it, I’ll make extra this fall.”
Summer simply watched as he lifted the bottle to his lips once again and took several more swallows of the light amber liquid. Maybe if he drinks enough of it, he’ll pass out. Then again, maybe he’s one of those belligerent drunks. With a shackle and chain attached to her leg, things could go bad quickly. “Don’t drink too much,” she warned him. “You don’t want to be drunk when you show up for a date.” Leo chuckled, recorked the bottle, and set it on top of the fridge.
Leo had picked up some supplies while he was in town, so before his bath, he decided to trim his hair and beard. After changing out the batteries, he turned on the trimmer and went straight back over the top of his head. Her heart dropped as she realized that he was smart enough to change his look as dramatically as possible. As the long, stringy hair fell to the floor, he suddenly looked years younger. Once he finished the top of his head, he adjusted the guard and shaved the sides even shorter. He glanced at both sides in the mirror and made a few last swipes with the trimmer before moving on to his beard. By the time he finished trimming everything, he looked like a completely different man. The only feature that remained unchanged was those dark, haunting eyes.
“Looks pretty good, doesn’t it?” He pulled a straight-edge razor from a basket that sat on a shelf next to the small mirror.
“You look way younger,” she told him, somewhat amazed by his transformation.
He only sneered as he took the blade and began removing the stubble that the trimmer had left behind. Her dad had always used all sorts of shaving creams and had razors with a half-dozen blades in addition to a comfort strip. In contrast, Leo was definitely demonstrating a very primitive shaving technique. He glided a single sharp blade along the curve of his face and down the length of his neck. She cringed as dozens of little blood droplets popped to the surface beneath his chin. “Damn, I waited too long this time.” He wiped an old towel across his face and neck before retrieving the whiskey bottle. He took another long pull before pouring some into the palm of his hand and slapping in onto his face and neck. He closed his eyes and groaned while the alcohol worked its way into all the damaged pores. Summer covered her mouth with her hand, knowing full well how much that must have hurt. “I’d better put this blade over here for safekeeping,” he said, shooting her a sideways glance while dropping the blade into the basket and placing it in the cupboard on the far side of the room.
“I told you before . . . I have no desire to hurt you,” she reiterated. “I’m just hoping you’ll do the same for me.”
He only returned a smirk before turning and heading out the door to retrieve the buckets of boiling hot water. He returned seconds later, carrying both of them with his bare hands. He groaned as he carried them over to the tub and set them down on the concrete floor. “Don’t you have a pair of gloves?” she asked after seeing the bright red lines that the metal handles had left on his palms.
“I like to see how much I can take,” he replied, showing her the multitude of scars on his palms and fingers. “It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it used to.”
“So you actually like feeling pain?” She slowly shook her head and stared at him, trying to understand his actions.
“It’s better than feeling nothing.” He grabbed a large metal tub that was leaning against the wall and placed it on the floor in front of the bed. “Maybe pain reminds me of my dad. I actually do miss him sometimes . . . even though he was a mean son of a bitch.” He seemed confused by the mixed feelings he had about his dad. The attachment he still felt was probably due to the fact that he was the only person Leo ever really knew. “I guess he did teach me almost everything I know.”
“What did your dad do for a living?” Summer asked, trying to gather as many facts as possible.
“He was in the Marines when he was young.” His eyes turned even darker as he began to talk ab
out his father. “He never told me anything until the day before he died. That’s when he told me about his time in Vietnam.”
“He was in the Vietnam War?” she asked, honestly wanting to understand how the man could’ve been so depraved.
“Yeah, and he didn’t make it out. After providing cover for the other members of his squad during the extraction, he was the only one captured by the Viet Cong. It was only a few weeks before the U.S. pulled out of the war completely.” Tears began to seep into his eyes as he told her the story. “They just left him over there.”
“How did he get out?” Summer felt a lump forming in her own throat.
“A recovery team found him three years later. He weighed a hundred and twenty-five pounds when he got home. I wish he would’ve told me about it years ago. Maybe I wouldn’t have hated him so much.” He dumped the steaming hot water from the buckets into the tub before heading back outside for additional water.
Summer sat in silence, still leery of the darkness that was closing fast upon them. The last rays of sunlight were now casting long shadows across the floor. Leo’s father had obviously been messed up as a result of being an abused POW. That would explain why he had made himself a home way out here in the middle of nowhere, away from everyone. Through his actions, he had passed on at least part of his mental illness to his son. The cycle of abuse was being propagated down through the generations. At least Leo hadn’t been acting as violently as he had been earlier in the afternoon. She felt certain that her strategy of befriending him was beginning to work. Hopefully, she could use the friendship card to keep him at arm’s length until she found an opportunity to escape.
Chapter 6
After driving north all the way to Medicine Lake, the two men slowly made their way back south to the main highway. They had only met a couple of old farm trucks, and Dylan was starting to grow impatient by the continued lack of progress.
