The Absence of Screams: A Thriller

by Ben Follows

  “How do you know who I am?” Todd whispered back.

  The truck bounced through a puddle and Todd leaned against the wall to steady himself. He looked up at the bank of monitors and wondered if any were connected.

  Ricky would have thought of that.

  “My name is Marcus Devereaux,” said the man. “You would know me as Paul."

  “I know who you are," said Todd, the memory of their meeting in the Shembly house coming back to him.

  “I need your help,” said Marcus.

  “Why?”

  “I can’t solve this myself."

  Todd scoffed. “I know you aren’t paralyzed. You kicked me in the gut and left me to get arrested. Why don’t you just be honest for once in your life?”

  “I can't move my legs. I could the last time we met, but I can't now.”

  Todd frowned and reached out in the darkness, judging the distances by the light that came through the front window. He grabbed onto Marcus’s twisted leg just above the ankle and squeezed as hard as he could.

  Marcus glanced at his leg then up at Todd. When he spoke, there was a weakness and fear in his voice that Todd hadn't heard before.

  "I'm being honest," said Marcus. "I can't feel it. Hit me as hard as you can."

  Todd balled his fist into a fist and slammed it down as hard as he could on the ankle, taking out all the anger he had at Marcus in a single swing.

  "Todd?” said Marcus, not flinching from the hit. “I need your help.”

  “Holy shit,” said Todd, leaning back against the wall. “You’re actually paralyzed. How did that happen?”

  “Ricky thought it would be a suitable punishment for ruining his chance at a million dollars.”

  Todd scrunched up his face. “I hate him.”

  Marcus grinned. “That’s something we have in common.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Marcus recounted what had happened. As the van took turns and hit the endless potholes of forgotten roads, he told Todd everything, from the kidnapping eleven years ago to the deceit that Ricky and Danielle had almost pulled off in the motel.

  When he was finished, Todd nodded. “So Ricky can't get the money from the accountant?”

  Marcus shrugged and looked up at the front of the van, making sure Ricky and Danielle weren't listening. He lowered his voice so much Todd had to lean in to hear him.

  "I suppose they could coerce me into calling Giordano again. Giordano needs more proof that my rambling to act. I think Ricky wants the hundred grand as insurance then he’ll go for the big prize.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t have the slightest idea," said Marcus. He paused and looked at Todd. "You loved her, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, and she was your daughter. I didn’t realize they had you captive as well.”

  “It's funny how that works out." Marcus looked up at the ceiling then back at Todd. "You know what, Todd? I don't think we started out on the right foot. Why don’t we start over?" He held out a hand. "I’m Marcus, Danielle’s father. It's nice to meet you.”

  Todd laughed a little and shook Marcus's hand. They passed a light and the entire truck was illuminated enough that he could see Marcus smiling just a little bit, although the happiness didn't reach his eyes.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Devereaux," he said.

  Marcus leaned back, releasing Todd's hand. “I don’t know what the Shembly’s were talking about. You seem like a great kid.”

  Todd leaned back against the wall. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

  The wind and rain whipped past the sides of the van.

  Marcus sighed. “It’s not too late.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It's not too late for Danielle. She can be saved. She hasn’t gone too far over the deep end.”

  “I don’t know what to think anymore, Marcus," said Todd, glancing towards the front of the van and speaking softly enough that only Marcus could hear. "I thought I loved her, and it was fake from the beginning. I wasn’t even an important part of the plan. I was just a convenient idiot she could use.”

  Marcus shook his head. “She wouldn’t have picked you if there was nothing. You spent a lot of time together, right? Wouldn’t she have picked someone she wanted to spend time with?”

  “I’m sorry to tell you this, Marcus. She’s gone.” He glanced toward the front of the van. “She’s a monster and that’s all she ever was.”

  “Todd, can you promise me something?”

  He looked at Marcus. “What?”

  “Give Danielle another chance. There is good in her, just like there was good in her mother. She and her mother are so alike, in ways I never saw. Maybe Danielle got the worst of both of us.”

  Todd didn't respond. He leaned against the wall as the truck hit a pothole and bounced.

  He busied himself with untying the restraints from his hands, throwing them onto the floor, and rubbing his raw wrists.

  "I can't promise anything," he said, "but I'll try."

  57

  O’Reilly parked and looked over the muddy fields.

  It was an empty stretch of land which had been owned by a business mogul a decade ago. When he had died, his heirs had forgotten about the land they owned in Harper's Mill. The crops had died and rotted until there was nothing but dirt, or, on this day, as the rain continued to come down, mud.

  The pitch-black night was lit by headlights, streetlights, and the lights of the Harper's Mill Shopping Plaza on the other side of the field.

  “Ready?" she said, turning and looking at Charles and Jamie, who were seated in the back seat.

  They both nodded vigorously.

  Once they had heard that there was a ransom demand for Danielle, they had immediately agreed to do whatever needed to be done.

  No matter what they had done, O'Reilly thought, they seemed to genuinely love and care about Danielle.

  Charles's hand rested on a duffel bag filled with money on the seat between them. The money almost hadn't arrived in time. O'Reilly had called in the FBI to help them gather the necessary cash from surrounding banks.

  Cockerton was sitting in the passenger seat beside her, leaning against the window.

  She tapped his arm and asked, "Ready?"

  Cockerton looked back at her and, after a moment of hesitation, nodded.

  They stepped out of the car.

  A few other undercover cars parked around them. Detective Peters, along with all the others, wore civilian clothing and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible.

  O'Reilly had a suspicion that Ricky would be able to pick out cops, but perhaps the rain would limit his vision enough to buy them time.

  She pulled her jacket tight around herself as the brisk breeze passed through. She stepped up to the rotting fence around the field. It was filled with termites. When she snapped a piece off a flurry of bugs scrambled back inside the wood. She threw it into the mud.

  Cockerton nodded toward the back seat of the car. Charles Shembly was waving at them.

  She shook her head and crossed her arms. “Leave them in the car until we hear from Ricky. I don’t want to listen to their protests just yet.”

  O’Reilly’s phone rang and she checked the caller ID. The call was coming from an unknown caller.

  She answered. “This is Emily O’Reilly.”

  “Detective O’Reilly, you've been expecting this call.”

  She nodded to Cockerton, who waved over Detective Peters.

  “Ricky,” she said. “It's nice to finally speak with you. How did you get this number?”

  “That isn't important.” There was the sound of an engine in the background. “I have instructions for you.”

  “We have the money. Do you have Danielle?”

  Ricky laughed. “I have her. Once I have the money, I’ll call this number and tell you where to pick her up.”

  Cockerton opened the back door of the car and the Shembly's stepped out.

  Charles had the duffel bag draped
over his shoulder. His hair was a mess and his glasses were askew.

  In comparison, Jamie looked as casual as if she had just woken up and had a cup of tea. She stretched as she exited the car and grinned at O'Reilly.

  O'Reilly turned back toward the field.

  “That’s not going to work, Ricky," she said.

  “Why not?”

  “You don’t get the money unless we see Danielle. We need to know she’s alive."

  Ricky laughed. “You’re in no position to make demands, detective."

  “No,” said O’Reilly. “Show us Danielle or you get nothing.”

  Ricky laughed. “If those are your conditions, I suppose you won’t get her back.”

  O'Reilly took a deep breath. “Do you mind if I ask you a question, Ricky?”

  “Go right ahead."

  O'Reilly leaned on a fence post. “Why are you doing any of this? I looked you up. I didn't have your last name, but I managed to figure it out. There are dangerous people who would pay a lot of money to get you alone in a room. You must have untold sums of money at your disposal."

  “You’re right. I don't need the money. I guess this entire endeavor was foolhardy. I'll be leaving now. You'll never see Danielle."

  “No,” O’Reilly pinched the bridge of her nose. “Don’t do that. All I want is to see Danielle alive. You’ll get the money.”

  “That's better, detective. I’ll call you and let you hear her voice when I have the money. I'm going to tell you what I want. Are you listening?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Charles Shembly and Jamie Kessington will carry the money out to the middle of the field," said Ricky. "They will drop it and take a step back, but they will not retreat. I will send someone to get the money. The Shembly’s will not return to their side of the field until my people are off the field. Once we are clear, I will tell you where to find Danielle."

  “Why does it need to be both of them?"

  “This is my game, detective. I decide the rules. You’ll send both, or I’ll kill Danielle right now and dump her body where you'll never find it. Like you said, I don't need the money. Is that clear?”

  O’Reilly swallowed. “Yes, that’s clear.”

  “Good. Send them in twenty minutes.”

  The call ended. O'Reilly slowly lowered her phone and slipped it into her pocket. She checked the time and set a twenty-minute timer on her watch.

  She relayed the information to the others. O'Reilly left Cockerton with the Shembly's and walked a few feet away with Peters. She wiped her wet bangs out of her face.

  “We need to surround the field," she said. "Every exit needs to be blocked.”

  Peters went back to his car to speak on the radio. O'Reilly outfitted the Shembly’s with bulletproof vests and instructions.

  "Are you ready?" she asked them when the twenty minutes were almost up.

  Charles and Jamie nodded.

  "Alright," said O'Reilly, turning to the field. "Let's get Danielle back."

  58

  Ricky and Danielle’s laughter echoed through the van as Ricky's call ended.

  Todd glanced at Marcus, who shrugged. They had been able to make out that Ricky was talking to someone, but not the words.

  The van jerked to a stop. They front doors opened and closed. A moment later the back doors to the van opened.

  Danielle and Ricky both held handguns pointed into the back of the van. They took a step back and gestured to Todd to get out of the van.

  Todd did so, shooting a sympathetic look at Marcus, and climbed out the back of the van with his hands up.

  Ricky grabbed Todd's arm and pulled him close. Todd could feel the gun in his back.

  "You're coming with me," said Ricky.

  Todd clenched up his shoulders. He could feel Ricky's breath in his ear. He could also feel the bulletproof vest Ricky was wearing.

  “Let’s go,” said Ricky. “We're going to go get some money.”

  Danielle walked past him without a second glance and climbed into the back of the van.

  "Hey," said Marcus as she climbed in, as though he'd just had an epiphany. "Is this the same van Jeff had?"

  The answer was cut off as Danielle slammed the doors shut.

  "Let's go," said Ricky, jabbing Todd in his injured ribs and making him jerk away. "We're off to meet some old friends of yours."

  Todd nodded and began walking. Ricky fell into step a few feet behind him.

  Todd glanced over his shoulder at the black van. They were parked in the shipping area for the plaza, beside a few other catering trucks. If Todd hadn't known, he would never have guessed that the van was anything other than what it appeared to be.

  He turned back in the direction they were walking. They headed toward the empty fields that had once held corn and wheat but had become a barren wasteland due to lack of attention.

  It was an immense field of mud. As he and Ricky walked through it, mud coated their feet and the bottom of their pants. Rain soaked them from above.

  It was only as they made it closer to the center of the field that Todd saw the two figures walking toward them.

  They were a man and a woman. The man was holding a duffel bag over his shoulder.

  Todd looked at the man through the rain and recognized the man.

  His heart raced as he met the gaze of Mr. Shembly.

  59

  “What are you doing?” said Marcus.

  Danielle was leaning against the wall in the back of the van.

  Marcus was quite certain this was the same van Jeff had hit Angela's car with. He couldn't get the thought of Jeff killing himself out of his head.

  Danielle leaned back with her legs crossed. She had a small piece of wood which she was whittling with a Swiss army knife into a vague shape of a human being.

  “What do you mean?” she said.

  “All of this," Marcus vaguely gestured at the entire world. "Why?”

  Danielle smirked and shook her head. She looked down at the small figure in her hand and whittled off a small piece, which joined a growing pile of wood shavings on the floor.

  “I’m trying to find a place where I feel at peace with who I am," she said. "To do that I have to clear out all the shit from my past."

  He reached toward her. “You’re hurting people, Danielle. Other people are at risk here."

  Danielle smirked and shook her head again. “Look at my life, Marcus. I never had a chance. I was broken from the start.”

  Marcus shook his head. “You’re broken, Danielle, but you’re not beyond repair. Let me help you.”

  Danielle leaned back, revealing the gun just inside her waistband. She spun the Swiss army knife around her finger.

  She grinned and revealed her teeth. “We’re going to get the money you and Angela stored away.”

  Marcus shook his head and looked in the direction of the empty field, wondering what was happening with Todd and Ricky.

  “I told Giordano to send it to the charities Angela specified," he said.

  Danielle laughed. “You think Giordano did that? He got a call from a guy claiming to be your personal nurse, saying you weren’t sane of mind, then a call from you where you suddenly changed your tune within a second. What would you think?”

  Marcus stared at her. “What do you mean?”

  Danielle laughed. “Ricky called Giordano back and explained you were losing your mind. He told Giordano to hold off on moving any of the money until he could get Power of Attorney from you, since you are his patient.”

  “Then why are we here?" said Marcus. "You can get the million dollars. Why do you need the hundred grand from the Shembly’s?”

  Danielle smiled. “Because Ricky made me a promise and he's out there fulfilling it right now. I wonder about the twins. Arthur and Addison were the only ones I cared about. Although no matter who they end up with, it’s better than the Shembly’s.”

  Marcus felt his face turning red. “How can you be so ungrateful to them? They raised you
like one of their own!”

  Danielle looked up at him. “Says the man who killed Tatiana Shembly.”

  Marcus paused, his mouth agape. "She died protecting you. To her last breath she protected you."

  “They never treated me like one of their own,” said Danielle. “They always preferred the twins. They got the nice clothes, whatever lessons and after school activities they wanted. When Ricky came to me and told me everything, it all made sense.”

  Marcus looked out the front window of the van. "You have no idea what you're destroying for petty teenage anger."

  Danielle smirked. "Like I said, I was broken from the start."

  Marcus stared at her, trying to see himself in that anger and rage, and all he could see was Cassandra.

  He swallowed. “What is Ricky going to do out there?”

  “He’s going to finish what you started.” She turned and smiled at him. “I never got a chance to thank you for that." She looked down at her piece of wood and frowned.

  With the Swiss army knife, she scratched off the face of the figure and started again.

  60

  Jamie and Mr. Shembly came to a stop. Their feet sank into the mud. There was a noticeable bulk under their clothes from the bulletproof vests.

  Todd realized he was the only one in that field without armor.

  Charles looked up at Todd and Ricky approaching them.

  Charles's eyes widened when he recognized Todd, but turned apologetic when he saw Ricky.

  "Drop the bag and step back," said Ricky, waving the gun at both of them.

  Charles dropped the duffel bag into the mud and took a few steps back, his hands raised. Jamie did the same, looking far more casual than Charles did. She was grinning at Ricky as though she didn't think that Ricky would try anything.

  “Come on,” said Ricky to Todd. “Let’s grab the bag.”

  Todd nodded and walk forward.

  He flexed his fists.

  Sweat rolled down his face. He was looking for an opportunity to turn and attack Ricky, but it never came.

  He picked up the heavy bag and slipped it over his shoulder. He could hear the loose bills sliding around the inside of the bag.