Jim found the reporter who voiced the question and pinned him with a hard look. "No comment."
"Is there a government cover-up going on?"
Jim ignored the question and elbowed his way through the throng and moved towards Lily. The comment about divine powers bothered him. In all the articles he had read, and news stories he'd seen, never once had Taylor claimed anything and he just couldn't let that reporter's question pass as though it was fact.
He turned back and said, "One thing, though. You're wrong to say Taylor ever claimed to have any powers, divine or otherwise. It was all you guys...the media, who made up all that crap. If something has happened to Mr. Taylor because of all your speculation..."
Jim had wanted to end his comment with a bang, but instead, it petered out as what he said hit him. Something bad had happened to Taylor. He'd seen it already. Time was wasting and the reporters were just in the way.
He caught Lily's eye and inclined his head towards his vehicle, "Why don't we go sit in my car and talk? It's a zoo inside and it's not much better out here. Besides, I'm cold."
* * *
"...so that's pretty much it. Jessica and I called it in after that." Jim sighed and rubbed his eyes.
Lily brushed away a tear that raced down her face. "All these...lies people have been saying about Mark have really had him down." She repeatedly wrapped and unwrapped her purse strap around her hand.
"Has he had any threats? Did anyone call or approach him? Anything?"
Lily shook her head and dug a tissue out of her bag, dabbing her nose it. "Not really, but I did have to put the business phone straight to voice-mail. I'm not sure Mark knew about it though. He's been kind of busy the last few days."
Jim noticed Lily shiver and so he turned the car on and cranked up the heat.
"Busy doing what?" From what Jim had heard the other day, most of the customers had been media and Taylor had been trying to avoid them.
"You know what he does so take a wild guess." Lily rubbed her forehead as though trying to ease the pain of a headache. "Besides, what does it matter?"
Jim looked out the front window, noting the arrival of even more news vans. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "It could matter a lot. We should know all of his movements from the time the story broke. I just have a feeling the story is connected somehow to Taylor's disappearance." He turned to her. "Did he do anything unusual in the last few days?"
Lily let out a snort. "By Mark's standards, no. The only thing he even mentioned was the lunch he had yesterday with a family on the north side. It wasn't anything bad though. At least, that's not the impression that I had."
Jim rummaged in his glove box for a notebook and pen. "Do you have a name?"
"I think the man's name was Scott something...oh,wait, it was Palmer. Scott Palmer. But, like I said, Mark didn't say anything bad about them, just that they were nice people and I think they did ask Mark about the stories in the paper."
"Did you get the impression that Mark was afraid of him?"
"No, not at all. If anything, their questions seemed to make Mark wonder about something in his own life and how to handle it."
"You mean the camera?"
She slanted him a glance. "So you know about that too?"
Jim pulled the camera out from beneath his coat and gestured toward the second floor of the building. "I took it from upstairs. I was hoping it could hold some answers for us."
Lily frowned and looked from the device to him. "How? Without Mark here to dream--"
"I dreamed," he cut in. He set the camera in her hands. "I'm hoping that there's a picture on it that could correspond to what I dreamed." Aw, hell. It sounded as stupid as he feared, but he had to take the chance.
"That's not how it works though. Mark dreams after seeing the photos." She checked the film counter. "He didn't develop this one." Tears filled her eyes again. "I told him not to. Told him he should get some rest instead. What if there's a picture of whatever happened to him on here and he could have stopped it?"
He didn't want to be cruel, but there was no time for guilt and recriminations. "Listen, Lily. We can't do anything about the past, we can only worry about now." He tapped the top of the camera. "I want you to develop this film."
"Right now?"
"Yes."
"But where? The dark room is in there," she pointed to the studio, "and I doubt they'll let me in to process film."
She was right. He thought about going back to his office building. If he recalled, there was a photo lab to process crime scene photos, but he wasn't sure he wanted to use that lab. It would involve red tape that he didn't have time to deal with right now.
There came a sharp knock on his window, and he started. Jessica. He motioned for her to get in the back seat.
Once she was in, he turned around. "Anything new from the police?"
"No. Just that there was no forced entry."
"Oh my god!" Lily nearly dropped the camera as she whirled in her seat to face Jessica.
"What?" Jim and Jessica both asked.
"The keys. I couldn't find the spare keys this afternoon."
"Do you know when you had them last?" Jessica asked before he could get the same question out.
"I never use them, but Mark said he thought he might have left them up in his loft a few weeks ago."
"Why were you looking for them today? I mean, if you never use them."
Jim caught the hint of suspicion in Jessica's voice and wondered if Lily had also heard it.
If she did, she didn't let on. "I was afraid a reporter might get a hold of them and bug the place."
"Are you serious?" Jessica shook her head and rested her brow on top of the front seat.
Lily's eyes narrowed. "You were here yesterday morning. You saw the chaos outside the studio. Besides, it looks like I had the right idea. Someone found the keys and used them, only for something much worse than bugging the place."
Jessica took a deep breath and nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry. It's no excuse, but when I'm scared, I get angry. Usually at the wrong people and at--"
Jim cut the apology short. "Right now, we need to find Mark, and our best lead could be sitting on that film right now. We have to find somewhere to develop it ASAP."
The three were silent for a moment. Finally Jessica said, "Why don't we take them to that lab we used before?" She looked at Jim. Lily focused on him as well, her face full of confusion.
It took him a second to understand what Jessica meant. "The one we used when Mark was locked up still?"
The fact that the photos Jim had taken that day with Jessica had caused Mark to dream his own water-boarding still caused Jim to shudder when he remembered it. At the time, he thought it had been a leak on his team, not evidence of a magical camera. Now he knew better.
A plus was that Mark had ended up working there after he'd been released. It was the perfect solution.
He glanced at the dashboard clock. It was close to five-thirty. "They won't open for hours."
Jessica shrugged. "So we call Gary and tell him to open up. He doesn't know about Mark's camera, but he's afraid of you, Jim. He'll do whatever you want." A trace of smile turned up the corners of her lips.
Gary wouldn't be the first person to fear him, but for once, maybe that fear would work for him. "Good. Call the guy."
"I hope I still have his number." Jessica pulled out her cell and it cast a glow on her face as she scrolled through it. "I had to call a few times when Mark had problems that caused him to be late to work."
An hour later, he, Jessica and Gary waited while Lily developed the film. Gary had offered to run it through his machines, but Lily had said she preferred to develop it herself. Now, her choked scream from within the dark room told Jim and Jessica exactly when the film was done processing, and that whatever was on it wasn't good.
She came out with the still damp prints. Jim hated to look at them, but he had no choice.
Lily visibly trembled as she laid t
he photos out on the counter. Gary hurried over from where he'd been sitting half-asleep in a corner, Jim froze him with a look. "Sorry. These are classified."
Gary held up his hands. "Fine. I'll just go in my office and take a nap, since I was awakened so early this morning."
Jessica rearranged the five photos, her face stoic. Jim knew she was used to these kind of photos, but recognized that she was trying her best to detach, to gain emotional distance. He couldn't blame her. It was a survival mechanism for one in her profession. He'd learned it early on in his field as well.
One photo showed Mark half in his bed, half on the floor as dark clad figures held him. Another showed him entering the back of a van, and Jim swallowed hard at the rope around Mark's wrists and neck. He was clad in only a tattered t-shirt and sweatpants.
"Plates."
Jim tore his gaze from the photo and looked at Jessica. "What?"
She already had her phone out. "We can see the plate number as well as the make and model of the van. It's a start."
The third photo showed Mark on the ground in what appeared to be an alley. The scene was dimly lit, but his white t-shirt stood out in the darkness. The building they were behind had several doors visible and Jim squinted, making out a partial word and a complete second word. "It says, something son Textiles". He looked at the women. "Does that sound familiar to either of you?"
Lily shrugged helplessly, while Jessica looped her hair over her ear and peered more closely at the photo. "The warehouse district has a few used by textile manufactures, and Mark had the run in with the cult in that area. I bet they wouldn't stray too far from their home turf, so to speak."
The fourth photo showed him tied to a cross, his eyes screwed shut. The fifth showed a window with sunlight streaming in. It made no sense.
CHAPTER TEN
"This area matches the photo, I think." Jim put the car in park.
Jessie angled her head and looked up at the old building. The sky was just beginning to turn pink in the east, but the side street was still very dark. "Lily, why don't you stay here while we check it out?"
Lily looked like she was going to argue, but instead quietly said, "Should I call an ambulance?"
"We don't know if one is needed. Remember, all of the images in the photos might not have happened yet." Jessie tapped Jim on the shoulder. "You have your weapon?"
Jim nodded and opened the center storage compartment, withdrawing his own gun. "This place looks deserted, though."
"Still, better to be prepared." Jessie exited the vehicle, scanning the alley for any movement. "What do you think, Jim? I don't see anything except some trash bins that need emptying." She looked around then squatted and pointed to the ground. "Lots of footprints here though. With this new snow, they can't be more than a few hours old."
The door closest to them had the faded words they had seen in the photo except now it was open a crack. Jim put his hand in the slit and pushed the door wider. He turned to Jessie and whispered, "I'll go first. Cover me."
Jessie nodded and pulled her gun. Ordinarily, she would have rolled her eyes at his chivalry, but she was too keyed up and barely noticed it. "Right."
They slipped inside and paused to let their eyes adjust. Jim pointed at his nose, indicating that he smelled something.
She mouthed the word, 'Fire?' at him.
Jim nodded and pointed in the direction he was going to go. Swallowing hard, Jessie motioned for him to move forward. She followed behind him, her eyes darting around. There was a short hallway that opened into a warehouse. The windows on the opposite wall faced east, and a dim golden light illuminated the room. Jessie looked to her right, into the darkest corners, senses alert for danger. No matter how hard she tried to walk quietly, her footsteps echoed off the walls and she cringed. A beam of sunlight illuminated dust motes, turning them golden. The beam ended in a rectangle of light on the far end of the room.
"Good God! Taylor!" Jim stopped suddenly and Jessie stumbled into him. She looked over his shoulder, seeing nothing but the glowing remains of a fire. She raised her eyes.
A wave of shock and horror exploded through her. Mark was suspended by his hands...on a cross--just as Jim had said. His head hung, and Jessie couldn't tell if he was still alive. Frozen, she barely heard Jim tell her to call for an ambulance and back-up.
She fumbled for her cell phone, but training took over as she relayed the need for help. Even as she gave the dispatcher instructions, she hurried towards Mark, but stopped several feet away as the need to vomit overwhelmed her. She bent and swallowed convulsively, fighting it down.
"Jessie, I need your help!"
Jim's sharp, commanding tone snapped her out of her immobility and she rushed to his side. He pointed at the base of the cross, and she saw what she could only describe as a giant Christmas tree stand. The vertical part of the cross stood inside the holder and long curved legs angled off and were bolted onto the floor. Whoever had done this had planned well in advance.
"We need to try and lift this up and lay it down!" Jim had his shoulder against the vertical part, his arms wrapped around it. Jessie shuddered as her gaze fell on Mark's feet on the small platform just above Jim's head. She didn't know where to grab, and finally snaked her arm behind Mark's knees, the other at the small of his back. His skin was cold and she recoiled for a split second, terrified that he was dead. Swallowing down bile, she regained her hold at his back.
They grunted and strained, but after the wood swayed precariously and threatened to topple, they stopped, afraid that the pole would crash down and crush the suspended man.
Jim swiped his arm across his brow. "We need more people."
Mark's head lolled and a groan slipped from his lips. Jessie could have cried in relief. He was alive! Her elation dimmed when she took a closer look. Barely alive, from the looks of it. Blood ran down his arms in a thick trail and the floor beneath each hand was marred with large puddles. Just beneath his ribs, another wound bled freely, soaking into his sweatpants. Despite the chill in the air, sweat dripped and his hair was wet with it. A coarse rope circled his neck, and Jessie could see ugly purple bruises spreading out from beneath it. She touched the part that dangled down, wishing there was some way she could take it off him.
"Jessica, why don't you go show the fire department where we are?"
Jim's voice held a note of sympathy and she knew that he was trying to spare her witnessing Mark like this. But, he was right, the crew might waste time looking for them, so she turned and raced out of the building. In the far distance she heard sirens and willed them to drive faster.
Lily was pacing the sidewalk, her back to Jessie. At the noise of the door hitting the wall, she spun. "What?"
"We found him and he's alive. Whoever took him is gone, though."
Lily's shoulders sagged as she sobbed, "Thank God!"
She turned to enter the warehouse, but Jessie put out a restraining hand. "Wait! He's not in the best shape and we can't get at him until the fire department arrives."
Lily straightened and lifted her chin. "I'm going in there. I saw the pictures too. If they were right, and I can see by your face that they are, then he's going to need all the friends around him that he can get." With that, she shrugged off Jessie's hold.
"Okay, Lily. You're right, but at least hold on until the rescue squad gets here, then I'll go back in with you."
Lily opened her mouth to protest, but Jessie cut her off. "Look, I want to be there with him as much as you do, but there's nothing we can do until help arrives!"
They waited in silence, the sirens growing closer. Just before the rescue squad reached the building, Lily asked, her voice full of dread, "Are you sure he was alive?"
Jessie hesitated before answering. "Yeah, he was...but the bastards left him in bad shape."
* * *
Mark sensed movement and strained to lift his head. What did they plan to do to him now? Thirst overwhelmed him and his tongue felt thick. He'd give anything for a drink o
f water. Maybe they would give him one. If nothing else, it would prolong the fun they were having. Mark's last memory had been of the cult milling beneath him. Chanting and drumbeats had echoed in the warehouse, but they had seemed distant and disorganized. Someone had wondered aloud about breaking Mark's legs but Snake Eyes had told them no, because things would go too fast then. Mark hadn't been sure what he meant, but was thankful that he didn't have that added misery.
He arched his back in a futile attempt to relieve the strained muscles and pressure on his hands, but that movement intensified the pain in his palms. Mark couldn't help uttering a deep moan. The smallest movements sent shards of agony through his hands and so he stilled, his breathing rapid and shallow. Blinking, he tried to focus on the blurry forms in front of him. The room was lighter and a slow glance to his left showed sunlight beginning to spill into the room. The pink and gold looked beautiful and he tried to block out everything except the sunrise. His last sunrise.
How long had he been here? It seemed like days had passed since he had gone to bed, and he wasn't sure what time they had come for him, but his impression in the van had been that it was around two or three a.m. Very few cars had been on the streets. He guessed it was now almost seven. There was a sudden lurch and the cross swayed. Mark groaned, dropping his head and closing his eyes. The pain in his hands became exquisite. He whole being; his awareness telescoped down to the his palms. Nothing else existed.
* * *
"Hurry! He's in here!" Jessie pointed the way for the paramedics as they exited their squad, then motioned for Lily to follow her. The paramedics rushed in ahead of them, loaded down with their supply boxes. The first one stopped abruptly.
"What the hell?" He turned to look at Jessie. "What happened here?"
The second paramedic looked beyond his partner and his eyes widened. "Jesus Christ!"
"No, he's Mark Taylor and he needs your help," Jessie snapped and pushed the man firmly towards the cross. She turned and grasped Lily's elbow. "It might be best if you stand over here, okay?" Lily began to protest, but Jessie put her hands on the other woman's shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "We have to stay out of the way for now. It's going to get crazy in a minute, with a whole slew of people running around."
March Into Hell Page 10
