The Girl in the Darkness

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The Girl in the Darkness Page 10

by John Triptych


  Addison glanced at the notepad she was carrying. “Corner of Hull and East Pilkington Street.”

  Mike slowed down. There was an old storefront just ahead. “That’s it, right?”

  “Yes, that’s it.”

  Mike pulled into a vacant lot beside the building and they both got out of the car. The side facing the street was an old used bookstore. When they walked through the front door, a bell rang. Stacks of old hardcovers and paperbacks lined the shelves, while a magazine rack prominently displayed porno magazines in shrink wrapped plastic beside the counter. Sitting by an outdated cash register was a middle aged woman. She was tall and thin, with bleached blond hair and a golden tan; the lines on her wrinkled face barely concealed by thick makeup. A box of pens lay stacked along the counter. Behind her was a display of assorted greeting cards for all occasions. A family picture on a free standing frame stood beside the outdated cash register.

  Addison walked up to the counter. “Good afternoon, we’re looking for an Irene Owen.”

  The woman at the counter stared at her blankly. “What do you need her for?”

  Mike pulled out his badge and held it in front of him. “I’m Detective Arnold, she’s Detective Draper. We’re from Stafford County Sheriff’s Department.”

  The woman crossed her arms and leaned back on her stool. “I’m her. What do you want?”

  “We’re investigating the remains of an unknown subject found in a basement,” Addison said. “Your name was traced to a credit card purchase for a metal door that was part of a concealed room that we found it in.”

  Irene could hardly believe it. “Is this a joke?”

  Mike shook his head slowly. “Nope.”

  Irene looked away and sighed. “I knew he was trouble.”

  Addison narrowed her eyes. “Who are you talking about?”

  “Caleb,” Irene said. “My ex-boyfriend. I lived with him for about a year.”

  “Where was this, and how long ago?”

  “Must have been about three or four years ago.”

  “Where did you live?” Mark asked.

  “In a house at Sherptons Mill somewhere, I don’t remember the exact address anymore. I moved around and it’s hard to remember a place you stayed in years ago,” Irene said.

  “This is Caleb Vize you’re talking about, right?”

  Irene nodded. “Yeah, that’s him. You’re saying he hid a body in the basement?”

  “You know about that secret room in the basement of that house?” Addison asked.

  Irene’s eyes opened wide. She had seen the news, but she hardly noticed the details until now. She held her palms up in a gesture of supplication. “Now look, I had nothing to do with what was found in there, okay?”

  “Start from the beginning,” Mark said. “How did you know Caleb Vize, and what about the secret room in the basement.”

  “Caleb used to do some repair work at our house in Quantico Station years ago,” Irene said. “My husband was a Marine, and after he died from cancer I moved away. All my kids were grown and gone, so there was no point in staying. I bumped into Caleb again one night at a local bar in Sherptons Mill, and we hit it off. He asked if I wanted to move in with him to that house, and I said yes.”

  “Was there someone else in the house?” Addison asked.

  “A black guy named Floyd,” Irene said. “Caleb was boarding with him.”

  “Did you observe any suspicious activity while living with those two men in that house?”

  Not at first,” Irene said. “Then I noticed Caleb and Floyd having people over, but they weren’t friends, I think they were labbers.”

  “Labbers?”

  “Yeah, the ones who manufacture crap like dope and stuff,” Irene said. “They’d never hang out in the living room, they would all just go down to the basement and stay there for hours. By the evening, they’d have plastic bags full of stuff and just leave.”

  “Did Caleb and Floyd help them manufacture it?” Mike asked.

  “Nah,” Irene said. “The three of us just stayed in the living room or on the porch. I think they saw us as lookouts or something.”

  “How many people were manufacturing?”

  “I’m not sure,” Irene said. “Three, sometimes four maybe.”

  “Do you know their names?”

  “Not really,” Irene said.”They would just come in and out, and the next month it would be a whole different crew.”

  “How long did this go on?”

  Irene shrugged. “I’m not sure. Close to a year I think. Then I broke up with Caleb.”

  “Why did you break up with him?” Addison asked.

  “He started to use the supply,” Irene said. “Caleb was wasted a lot, and he started beating me, so I just said, ‘screw it,’ and left.”

  Mike was taking notes on his pad. “What about Floyd? Was he using at all?”

  Irene shook her head. “Nah, he would just sit there and watch TV all day if he wasn’t out working with Caleb. I don’t think he liked what was going on. That was weird, I always thought blacks would go for any kind of dope, you know?”

  “What do you mean he didn’t like it? The house was registered in his name,” Addison said.

  “I dunno,” Irene said. “Caleb had a hold on him, just like he had a hold on me in the beginning. Caleb told me that Floyd was an ex-con, and he got him a job at the construction firm as a favor.”

  “DeVoe Contractors?”

  Irene nodded. “Yeah, I think that was it.”

  “So Caleb was like the leader?” Addison asked.

  “Yeah, he held the money for the three of us,” Irene said. “Except that one time, when he had to pay off a couple of guys who were gonna kill him.”

  “Who were these guys?”

  “A couple of dealers who said he shortchanged them,” Irene said. “I never saw them.”

  “Go on,” Mike said. “What happened after he ran out of money?”

  “Caleb was nervous for days,” Irene said. “He said he owed the man, and he needed to fix up a room in the basement, so the three of us worked all night to extend it. Caleb even brought over a jackhammer from his work to tear out the old bricks.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then he asked me if I could use my credit card to buy a steel door for him, he said he would pay me back in a few day’s time,” Irene said. “So we went out to see this old man about a metal door. I think Caleb was desperate to finish building that room, so he got the door, and we took it back to the house. Then Caleb installed it with Floyd’s help.”

  Addison had activated her smartphone for voice recording. “How long ago was this?”

  “About four years ago.”

  “Okay,” Mark said. “Then what happened?”

  “I figured the secret room was for stashing,” Irene said. “So I didn’t really ask him about it. Then he just kept getting more unwound and violent. I finally had enough, so I left.”

  “What was he getting nervous about?”

  “I don’t really know,” Irene said. “I overheard him and Floyd talking while I was upstairs, so they didn’t see me. Floyd asked him if the room was for more drugs, and he said no, it was for the man.”

  Addison was confused. “The man? Who is he?”

  Irene shrugged. “I got no idea. That’s all I know about it. I moved out about a week later. I was tired of being a lookout and I was sick of Caleb.”

  “What did you do then?”

  “Moved around the state a lot,” Irene said. “Then my husband’s insurance policy came through and I bought this place. I’m sober now—I ain’t doing any drugs anymore.”

  “Going back to that house,” Addison said. “Are you saying that the secret room was empty when you left?”

  “Yeah, it was empty,” Irene said.

  “The ones making meth in the basement,” Mark said. “Who was financing them? Floyd or Caleb?”

  “I don’t think either of them did,” Irene said. “Floyd and Caleb got some m
oney and a bit of stuff to sell out of the deal, but that was it.”

  “So who do you think was financing the meth makers then?”

  Irene shrugged again. “I dunno. It sure wasn’t Caleb or Floyd, the three of us just got pocket money. I think they helped pay the rent too.”

  Addison nodded. Could there be someone else involved? Another possible suspect was financing the drug manufacturing, and using the three of them as sentinels and decoys. “Do you think Floyd might have kidnapped a girl and put her in that secret room?”

  Irene shook her head. “Floyd was a wimp. Anytime Caleb would hit him, he’d just back off.”

  “Do you think Caleb might have abducted someone?”

  Irene looked down at the counter. “Maybe. Like I said, it was a long time ago. I never went back to that house.”

  Addison walked up to the counter. “We’re looking to question Caleb. Do you have any idea where he is?”

  Irene looked away and bit her lip. “Look, I told you all I know. I-I don’t want to be a part of this.”

  “But you are a part of it,” Mike said. “You just admitted to purchasing a steel door that was constructed to hold a kidnap victim who’s dead now.”

  Irene tilted her head down. Her chin started to tremble. “When … when I left him, he told me never to say anything. He … said … he said he would kill me if I told anyone.”

  Addison placed her hand on the counter. “If you can tell us where he is, I promise you he won’t be able to hurt you again.”

  “I … I remember one time when he was high on dope,” Irene said. “He started telling me that once he had enough cash, he would just move to his uncle’s place out in the woods.”

  “Did he say where this place was?”

  “He said …. He said his Uncle Wesley had a cabin that had been willed to him,” Irene said softly. “When I asked him where, I think he said Charles City County. That’s all I know.”

  Addison nodded. “Okay, thanks for that information.”

  Irene had s surprised look on her face. “Am I … under arrest?”

  Addison looked into her grey eyes. They didn’t have enough probable cause to arrest her, but she figured that she could intimidate this woman for more information. “Not now. But if you’d like to tell us something else that could help, now is the time. It’s in your best interest to tell us everything.”

  “I- I don’t know anything else.”

  Addison placed her business card on the counter and smiled. “Alright. But if anything else comes up, please don’t hesitate to contact me, okay?”

  Irene breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay.”

  Mike turned towards the door. “Be seeing you.”

  Just as she was about to follow her partner through the exit, Addison’s eyes focused in on the family picture beside the counter. It showed a tall, grinning man in a Marine Corps dress uniform along with Irene and three teen children. There were two strapping youths flexing their muscles, and a young teenage girl who stared back at the camera with an intense scowl, her long dark hair flowed down all the way past her shoulders.

  Something clicked in Addison’s brain. She was about to go through the front door when she turned around and pointed at the picture. “You have a daughter?”

  Irene briefly turned to glance at the picture before turning back to face her. “I had one. She was a good girl, then she became a teenager.”

  “She moved away?”

  “More like ran away,” Irene said wearily. “Zoe always ran away. She said her brothers were picking on her and she hated staying at the base. I used to call the cops all the time and they’d pick her up on the street and bring her home. The last time it happened, I just got tired of it and let her go.”

  “Go on,” Addison said. When they found the skeletal remains in the basement, it too had long flowing dark hair.

  Mike overheard the conversation and strode back into the store.

  Irene sighed again. “I think she got into drugs or something. She was such a sweet girl when she was younger.”

  “What happened to her?” Addison asked.

  “When my husband was dying, she finally cracked,” Irene said. “She took her stuff and left the house. I was too busy waiting on my hubby at the hospital, so I didn’t even know she was gone until a few days after. Then I just sort of gave up. If she really wanted to go, then fine.”

  “How old was she?”

  “Fourteen I think, why?”

  Addison moved closer. “How long ago when she left you?”

  This new line of questioning was starting to make Irene even more uncomfortable. “Uh … I think around twelve or thirteen years ago, why are you asking me about her?”

  Addison looked at Mike, before placing the smartphone by her ear. “Yeah, it’s me. Can you get me any information on a Zoe Owen? Thanks.” She looked at Irene. “Did you report her as missing?”

  “Uh … no,” Irene said softly. Right after she said those words, her brain put two and two together when she remembered the TV newscasts a few days before. She placed both hands over her open mouth and let out an ear-piercing cry.

  Fourteen

  It started out as a series of muffled coughs. Then came a shriek which startled her awake. After that it was the hurried sounds of labored breathing before the sharp cries and whimpering began.

  Samantha sat up. “Zoe? Are you alright?”

  The other girl’s voice was a pained whisper. “It hurts.”

  “What hurts?”

  “My stomach.”

  “Can I come closer?”

  “Okay.”

  She crept closer until her hands could feel the other mattress. The cotton lining was soaked, despite the cool air which wafted on down from the ventilation shaft. Samantha couldn’t tell what time of day it was, but she felt fully rested. She figured it must have been morning, even though it didn’t really matter. Her hands were able to touch Zoe’s trembling arm, and it was wet with perspiration.

  “Zoe, how bad is it?”

  “It … it started as an ache … now it’s really bad. Oww!”

  “Can I touch it?”

  “No, it hurts.”

  “Okay, how long has it been hurting?”

  “The last time we slept … I thought it was just a stomach ache.”

  “Was it something you ate?”

  “No … I don’t know. I puked awhile ago.”

  “Then it got worse?”

  “Yes! Oww!”

  “Take it easy.”

  Zoe groaned. “Every time I move, it hurts.”

  “Okay, just don’t move.”

  “Oww! It really hurts!”

  “Do you want some water?”

  “No … I feel … sick.”

  “I think he’ll be coming down soon.”

  “It hurts … so bad.”

  “Take it easy,” Samantha said calmly.

  “I think I’m going to die.”

  Samantha tightened her grip on her friend’s arm. “No you won’t. Don’t say that!”

  “I want to die already.”

  “Please don’t say that, Zoe.”

  Zoe was crying. “I … the pain is soo bad.”

  “Just … hang in there, okay?”

  “I can’t take it anymore!”

  Samantha gripped the other girl’s sweaty hand. “Just hang in there. A few hours, okay?”

  The sobbing continued. “It hurts … it hurts.”

  Samantha continued to kneel beside her until the whimpering subsided. A sudden fear gripped her and she placed her head onto Zoe’s chest, ear first, and was quickly relieved when her friend’s heart continued to beat and she could hear the other girl’s heavy breathing. Samantha let out a sigh of relief as she lay down on the bare floor beside Zoe, as she continued to hold her friend’s hand tightly.

  She awoke with a start when Zoe was crying again. Samantha could feel her friend’s hand gripping her own with a tense determination. A series of painful groans echoed through t
he darkness.

  Samantha sat up again and leaned over. “Zoe, it’s okay, calm down.”

  “The pain … it’s way worse now.”

  “Just hang in there.”

  Zoe’s voice had gotten weaker. “It doesn’t … matter.”

  “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?”

  “I think I’m dying.”

  Samantha shook her head violently. “No! Don’t say that!”

  “When you get out of here … tell my mommy and daddy I was … sorry.”

  She had told Zoe that she was planning an escape, and they bounced ideas off of each other countless times. In the dark, they would have long conversations as to where they would go once they were free. Samantha wanted to go down to Florida and see Disneyworld. Zoe wanted to go to the West Coast and live by the beach, watching the surfers. They started acting out their dreams. Zoe would pretend she had a convertible car and drove to California, and Samantha would play the role of every person she encountered: from a waitress by the highway, to a cop who stopped her for speeding, all the way to the blond beach boy who seduced Zoe and kissed her while they frolicked beneath the warm Pacific sun.

  “You won’t die okay? You’ve got to believe that,” Samantha said. Perhaps if she kept talking to her it would keep her spirits up. “Remember Chris, the young surfer you met in Malibu? He’s waiting for you, Zoe. He says just hang in there, he’s coming.”

  Zoe giggled for a second before she started retching violently. After a few minutes the convulsions stopped and she lay down once more. “Oh yeah, Chris. How could I forget him?”

  Samantha’s mouth began to tremble. Zoe’s grip on her hand was so weak, she thought her best friend really might die soon. There had to be something she could do. “Zoe, are you there?”

  “I’m … here.”

  “Does it still hurt?”

  “Yes.”

  Samantha used her other hand to detach the earring from her left ear. It was the one thing she had kept all these years, and it was the only possession that she had left from that fateful night when her life irrevocably changed. She knew that she had grown, and she was worried that her mother would no longer recognize her. The jewelry was her good luck charm.

 

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