by Drew Sera
I nodded at the potentially good news. A needle in a haystack - but possible - unless he took her out of Las Vegas.
“Now, that doesn’t mean he’s in the same location though. He could be moving around with her, but that could create issues for him. He obviously doesn’t want to be seen, so moving around isn’t likely,” Detective Foreman said before I could get my hopes up.
Detective Prestin spoke up, “We also did some digging around with his recent credit card purchases and bank account info. Nothing occurred in the past week or so. However, a number of weeks back, he wired out $25,000 from his bank account here in the U.S. to an account in the Caribbean. He also made a debit card transaction to his mortgage company for nearly a year’s worth of payments. We talked to the head of the human resource department where he works and turns out the vacation we thought he took, was actually a medical leave. He had already arranged to be gone from work for three months. He closed out his personal mobile phone account and there isn’t a trace of him obtaining a new one. So those cell phones he’s sending you stuff from are just pre-paid throw aways. He also purchased some hunting rifles, ammo and a few knives from local sporting good stores. Everything legal and registered.”
The younger detective, Foreman, looked over at Prestin and then he looked at Anthony and I.
“We think that Mr. Fielding is planning to take her out of the country.”
Fuck. I wasn’t well versed in law, but I knew enough that it would become more difficult to locate her and get her back should he take her out of the country.
“How far could he get without Sydney’s passport? I don’t even think she has one,” Anthony offered. I agreed with him and said that I didn’t think Sydney had ever been out of Las Vegas much. The two detectives exchanged glances again and then took out some photos of documents.
I looked at them but nothing was making sense. It looked like passport information and paperwork. The girl in the photo looked strikingly similar to Sydney, but it definitely wasn’t her. Sydney has deep blue eyes and this girl’s eyes were blue, but more of a piercing blue. It wasn’t Sydney.
“This isn’t Sydney,” I explained confidently.
The detective pulled another photo out of a file and set it down. It was a copy of the driver’s license of the girl in the passport picture. Her license said her name was Tamara Clemson and she was a few years younger than Sydney, but about the same height. Sydney was about ten pounds lighter than Tamara. My stomach clenched though as I grasped onto the fact that to many officials that may handle a passport, this would pass as Sydney or Sydney would pass as this girl. He could easily get her out of the country. I felt like all the blood was draining from my head.
“These document copies were obtained from the drugstore where Mr. Fielding works as a pharmacist. They were obtained from the photo lab department. The drugstore’s photo lab handles passport photos and some basic photo software and that sort of thing,” Prestin explained quietly.
I was missing something. Paul takes a leave of absence and then goes back into the store to make copies and forgets them. My brain was on overload.
“Wouldn’t this, Tamara Clemson be missing these documents? Wouldn’t she have reported them missing?” I asked.
Foreman jumped in once he saw our confusion. “Detective Saunders, whom you haven’t met yet, obtained these documents from the drugstore on December 27th. He’s working on a case that we may think is related now.”
“What? I’m not following you.” I said and looked at Anthony and Blake. They were lost, too.
“Detective Saunders is working on the murder case of Geoffrey Clemson.” Foreman tapped his finger on the copy of the driver’s license on the table. “Geoffrey Clemson was the spouse of Tamara Clemson and was found dead over a week ago about a hundred yards off I-15 and the California state line. Tamara Clemson has been missing since. Geoffrey had been stabbed multiple times with a hunting knife. According to Detective Saunders and his investigation so far, the blade of the knife would have matched the type that Mr. Fielding purchased at the sporting goods store. His team is still working on the recovery of Tamara Clemson. But they now believe that Mr. Fielding is quite possibly the killer of Geoffrey and that he has Tamara or knows where she is.”
Prestin went into further detail as my brain stopped comprehending. “The bigger picture here is that Fielding doesn’t need or want Tamara. She was convenience for him in that she looked vaguely similar to Sydney as a way to get at you. He would have been able to get personal information about Tamara at work. Oops, sorry. Forgot to mention that Tamara also worked at the drugstore with Fielding. He could easily have gained info if she had a passport just with friendly chit chat. He just needed her passport and for her to disappear. With her out of the picture, she couldn’t report it stolen. All the family she had was Geoffrey, which we believe he removed from the equation.”
I felt heavy and weak. Paul obviously spent a long time planning this. Life could have very well been draining from my body in that moment. Paul was capable of killing and had the weapons to do so. And he was going to try to take my baby out of the country to God knows where and do God knows what with.
The last thing I needed to see was the picture of Geoffrey Clemson’s naked and stabbed body. I felt an inch away from death, and I heard very little after that. Blake stood and handed the detectives back the stabbing victim’s picture and said “that was enough”.
I stood on shaky legs and made my way to the patio door. I stretched my arms out so I could lean on them while I looked out at the picturesque city in the distance.
33
Thursday, January 16th
Anthony
“Is there a chance he could already have her out of the country?” I asked while I kept my eye on Colin. He was slumping over his arm by the patio door, and I thought he was about ready to lose it.
“There is a chance, yes, Mr. Graves.”
I nodded and then they gathered all their pictures and documents. They said they would keep us informed if there were any further breaks in either of the cases. Blake walked them out and I went to Colin.
“Col, come on lets go sit in the other room.” I tried to pull him away from the window, but he wouldn’t budge. I heard Blake on the phone and his voice got louder as he came back to the kitchen. I tried nudging Colin again and encouraged him to sit down and breathe, but he grabbed my shirt and broke down. I knew he was close to this a few minutes ago, but it didn’t prepare me for what flew from his mouth.
“He’s going to kill her, just to get back at me, Anth!”
“Stop it! He would have done it already if that were his plan! Don’t think that!” I said with my raised voice. How could he fucking think that? I wouldn’t let him think like that.
I held him up under his arms while he grabbed at my shirt and tried shaking me as if I hadn’t been sitting right there listening to what the detectives said. I leaned against the patio door and kept my head turned while he got his aggression out. He wasn’t hitting hard; he just thumped his fists against my chest while he had handfuls of my shirt. He needed to get it out, and this would be good for him.
“Get it out, Col,” I encouraged him to thump away while he cried. I could take it, but Blake saw that I was enabling Colin to hit on me and I could tell he didn’t care for that. He headed over and tried to pull Colin back.
“Blake, let him get it out,” I told him. He stood by us and he rubbed on Colin’s back while I held him up and kept him close to me. I tried to be strong but wasn’t used to seeing Colin fall apart.
His head was down on my shoulder and he continued to cry and weakly pound his fists against me. He was completely breaking down, growing weaker by the second until he fell against me and sobbed his eyes out. I supported his body weight, and it wasn’t long before we slid down to the floor. Faintly I heard the door and Blake went to go get it, and I had a feeling Matt was going to be on the other side. Colin continued to lightly pound on my chest.
“I
loved her, Anth! She’s being punished for my behavior, and now we’ve both lost her.” His breathing was erratic and choppy from the crying. “It’s my fault you lost her.”
I took a deep breath and squeezed him hard against my body. “It’s not your fault. Why the fuck is it your fault?” I said in a low tone.
“I told him he couldn’t play with her. Told him not to go near her.”
“Yeah, so the fuck what? You knew what Sydney needed and what she could handle. Paul wasn’t it. Doms have to be brutally honest. You were her trainer, and I was her big bad ass teddy bear. We weren’t going to let just anyone go near her. Fucking tore us both up to let Evan near her. It’s not your fault. So knock it the fuck off. You can pound on me all you want, but you knock this, ‘I’m at fault’ shit off.” I took another deep breath to keep the tears from spilling out of my eyes. “And we haven’t lost her. She’s ours.” I shook and squeezed him harder. Thinking about her and all we’ve been through with her, I refused to believe we lost her. “We fucking collared her, Colin. She’s ours.”
I looked up and saw Matt with Blake. They stood still and hadn’t moved.
“And another thing. When she comes home and is feeling better, I get her ass first.”
I heard a rumble of laughter from Colin, and it soothed that aching spot I’ve had in my chest all week. It was no secret that Colin preferred anal sex and loved it with Sydney. I had done it with her before too, but I loved looking in those eyes of hers while I took and gave her pleasure. In her eyes, I was accepted just as flawed as I was, and she loved every piece of me.
We sat slumped on the floor for a while until I felt like my back was tightening up on me, and I felt that familiar stomach cramping begin to settle in. I flicked Colin in the ear and told him we needed to get off the floor. Matt pulled Colin up and into a hug that Colin needed. Both of us needed Sydney badly; our bodies were missing her.
I knew that Blake worried about us freaking out over the news from the detectives. Why the fuck would they show us the picture of the guy that got stabbed? All it did was upset us and put images in our already full heads of what Paul’s capable of.
Colin wasn’t talking much and was lying on the chaise where Sydney is usually at. His eyes were open, and I think he was listening to us. But I think he could fall asleep there, because he was exhausted and mentally spent. I sat next to where his head was resting on the cushion. Normally I would have given him some space, but after the conversation he and I had during dinner, I felt like I needed to be right there for him.
I helped Matt get Colin upstairs and ready for bed. Matt told me that he and Blake were going to stay tonight, but I told him he didn’t have to and that everything was under control. I should have saved my breath. Matt thumped me in the arm and went back downstairs.
I leaned on the doorway to the master bathroom and looked at Colin. He was in bed with his eyes closed, but he looked anything but at peace. I glanced at the nightstand, and the diamonds from her collar caught the light and sparkled at me. It reminded me of her eyes and the way they’d dance when she looked at me. I picked it up and held it in my palm and let my finger trace the heart and then I flipped it over and looked at our initials. She was ours and we weren’t giving up hope. I knew the images from tonight and thoughts would be surfacing for Colin in his sleep as they would for me. I decided to stay in here in case he woke up. I changed into my lounge pants and tee shirt and stretched out on the floor in front of the fireplace. In my hands I help the picture of Sydney and I on the patio. I have been staring at this picture multiple times a day since Saturday.
The three of us created this spot by the fireplace as our comfort space. There were two side chairs and an end table between them. Colin and I could sit in the big chairs while our girl knelt between us. We could hold her on the chair with us and there was plenty of room for that. I missed sitting on the floor with her body cradled between my legs with my arms wrapped tight around her. I missed the feeling of her breathing against my skin, either while she slept or when she woke up from a bad dream. I’d take either right now.
Soon, Colin’s cell phone screamed its incoming text alert. I hadn’t been asleep so I headed over to the nightstand just as he was sitting up. I picked up the phone showing the sender was an unknown number and sat down on the edge of the bed with it. I held it in my shaking hands and waited until Colin turned a light on and was sitting up next to me. I handed him the phone and he opened the text window.
702-555-0980: She said you never used a wand on her. Thought you’d like to experience this with her. In case you can’t tell, she doesn’t like them.
I could see Colin’s chest rising and falling nearly in tune with mine. Oh fuck, there was a video. Not just a text with a picture, but a fucking video. Colin pushed the arrow on the screen and staring at us, center screen, was our girl. I wasn’t prepared to watch, but I couldn’t move away either.
34
Thursday, January 16th
Matt
Blake and I were sitting in the great room watching basketball highlights when a noise from upstairs caught my attention. What the hell? I muted the TV and looked at Blake. We both heard screaming and went upstairs to see where the screams were coming from. It sounded like a TV, and as I got closer to the bedroom I figured one of them must have been watching TV, unable to sleep. The bedroom light was on and from the doorway I could see what was going on. Shit, another text.
Colin sat holding his cell phone that was emitting the screams. His face and Anthony’s face were glued to the screen, and Anthony’s hands were in tight fists clenching his tee shirt over his stomach.
Blake and I crossed the room and stood in front of them as they watched whatever shit Paul sent. Blake and I made no move to take the phone away immediately, but it just kept going. Paul had the poor girl chained to a table and was flogging her and then he’d press a violet wand over the section he had just flogged. Jesus. The expression on Sydney’s face was horrific. It will never leave my memory nor will the sounds of her crying, screaming and begging for it to stop. Paul yelled at Colin in the video reminding him how this is his fault for not letting him scene with Sydney. Colin really didn’t need to hear that.
When Colin looked up at me, his expression gutted me. I put my hand on his shoulder to try to comfort him, but how the fuck could I offer a shred of hope to him right now? I made a move for the phone, but he squeezed it tighter leaning closer towards Anthony. It was as if he knew Anthony would side with him.
“It just keeps going, Matt,” Colin choked out and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Blake quietly announced it was at the fourteen-minute mark. A few more minutes passed and then the screaming stopped. The video wasn’t over, but Sydney just stopped making noise as Paul brought the flogger and wand down on her. Before I could try to figure out what happened, Colin fell completely apart.
“Fuck! No! No, baby!” Colin pushed the phone towards me. “Did he kill her?”
Oh fuck, no. I refused to believe that we just watched a murder, but I was standing opposite Colin, watching the screen upside down. I looked at her and while I wasn’t one hundred percent certain, I was pretty sure she wasn’t dead. I set the phone down on the nightstand and pulled Colin off the bed and held onto him. I couldn’t make out anything he mumbled and glanced at Anthony. Anthony was shaking and was holding himself tightly together, afraid to move perhaps. Blake reached for Anthony, but he moved away and began pacing around their sitting area of the bedroom with a hand over his chest and the other over his stomach. This video was too much. I couldn’t help but feel the tears threatening my own eyes.
While holding Colin tightly in an embrace, I kept my eyes on Anthony. Right now, between the two of them, Anthony was the potential ticking bomb. He’s keeping himself too tight and locked up. He won't let anyone near him, aside from Colin, and there is so much pushing down on him. Last night was the closest I had seen him to breaking down since Sydney’s been gone.
Anthony went tow
ards the closet and a flash of panic clouded me. He’s going to bolt. I can’t let him bolt. I exchanged glances with Blake and I knew he feared what was coming too. A few minutes later Anthony emerged from the closet in jeans and shoes. His eyes were more red giving away evidence that he probably let a few tears fall in the closet.
“I...can’t sit in here right now.”
Blake and I both said his name and Blake even made a move towards him. Anthony backed away and started shaking his head, hands on his hips. He was trying to be strong. I could see it in his stance and the way his jaw was set. Anthony struggled with emotions and he didn’t know how to deal with his feelings. His fucking parents probably beat him when he cried. He’s got to get some of this off his chest, but I feared he was almost in flight mode. After seeing that terrible video, I knew it wasn’t going to be long before he lost it.
“Anth,” I started to say, but he cut me off.
“I can’t be here right now.”
Anthony was trying hard not to walk out of the room, even though I knew he wanted to hide and be alone. I knew he was trying not to bolt for Colin’s sake, but it was tearing him up. Unsure of my next move with Anthony, I was thankful when Colin jumped in. He walked over to their sitting area, grabbed the yellow sock monkey off a chair and stopped a few feet in front of Anthony. Both of them were in a world of hurt, staring at one another. Colin held the sock monkey towards Anthony. Anthony took the outstretched sock monkey and sagged against the wall while rubbing at his temples as he toed his shoes off.
