MAD AS BELL

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MAD AS BELL Page 17

by Jeremy Waldron


  Erin edged the side of the house, wiped her palms on her shorts, and kept looking over her shoulder, feeling like she was being watched. The grass was tall and she saw no visible tracks. She moved between her and her neighbor’s house, listening and watching for anything to prove what Eva heard could be real. The neighbor’s house was dark, except for the front porch light that was always left on.

  Erin checked the windows on her own house as she passed each of them. They were all locked. When she entered her backyard, she stood outside Eva’s window making sure it was locked, too. Again, she saw no signs of tracks or any evidence it had been tampered with.

  She relaxed, feeling at ease with the knowledge that her house was locked up and protected. But she still worried about Eva and how scared she looked. Erin made her way to the front of the house and opened the front door, ready to go back to bed. The adrenaline rush was already subsiding. Headlights suddenly came on across the street and lit up the street.

  Erin turned and stared into the street.

  A red Ford pickup truck pulled away from the curb and sped away.

  Erin flew down the short flight of steps and ran into the street, trying to get a plate number, but couldn’t. She was too late. It was too fast.

  Was that the person Eva thought was outside her window? Erin wasn’t convinced. She lived in the city and it never slept. But what bothered her most was that she couldn’t recall if her neighbor owned a red pickup or not.

  Erin headed back inside, hurried down the hall, and was surprised to find Eva packing her bag.

  “What are you doing?” Erin asked.

  Without looking, Eva responded, “I can’t stay. He knows I’m here.”

  In the short time Erin was gone—trying to protect this young woman—Eva had pulled herself together and looked like a completely new person. Her hair was combed and tied into a ponytail. She’d shed her pajamas and traded them for a pair of jean shorts and a black tank top.

  “There was nothing outside, Eva.”

  Eva rolled her neck and gave Erin an uncertain look.

  “Where are you going to go?” Erin asked. “It’s the middle of the night.”

  Eva shook her head as if not knowing the answer herself. “I have to get home. I need to pay my bills, let Lewis know I’m okay. He’s probably been worried sick about me.”

  Erin stared, surprised she hadn’t thought of this before. “Eva, what kind of car does Lewis drive?”

  “He’s rich.” Eva shrugged and continued packing. “He drives several cars. Why?”

  “Does he drive a red Ford pickup truck?”

  “Yeah.” Eva cocked her head. “How did you know?”

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Jenny smacked her lips as she lay flat on the floor with her arms and legs spread out to her sides like an angel. She chewed on her tongue, which was as dry as a sponge. Starved and dehydrated, she didn’t know how much longer without food and water she could go before her spirit, and body, broke.

  She turned her head and stared at the empty plastic water bottle. It was turned on its side near the far wall, crumbled, looking exactly like she felt. Its cap was separated from the top and lay off to the side, the sign of defeat. No matter how hard she stretched her imagination, nothing but the man who had taken everything away from her could refill the bottle she desperately craved.

  “Please,” she groaned to an empty room. “I need water.”

  As if on cue, she heard an upstairs door open and shut.

  Staring at the ceiling, she listened to the heavy footsteps creak the floor joists above.

  He was home.

  Jenny was numb, didn’t react. Hopeful but scared, her mind was listening to the whispers of conversation she’d shared with the other girls imprisoned inside the house.

  What he did to me, I’m already dead.

  Jenny knew the worst was yet to come. When, and what, would that look like? She didn’t know, but assumed it would be as bad as she thought. As she prepared as best she could for what future lay ahead, she stared at the ceiling, wishing harm upon whoever was walking across the floor above.

  Water drained through the house plumbing and He moved through the house with ease. Jenny was certain he was alone, but what did that mean? What time of day was it? Would she ever know what happened to Megan? Probably not.

  As she lay there with thoughts swirling, her memory of what happened came back to her in waves. Jenny remembered waiting for Naomi outside by the car when her phone rang.

  “I told you to stop calling me,” she said.

  “I have to see you.”

  “It’s over.” Jenny glanced over her shoulder and watched a woman fill the gas tank of her car.

  “I love you.”

  Jenny rolled he eyes. “You should be dating girls your own age.”

  “They don’t have what you have.”

  Jenny walked around Naomi’s car, stepped onto the grass. He wouldn’t leave her alone, wouldn’t accept her decision to not sleep with him again. At first, the idea of sleeping with someone older sounded exciting, and what choice did she have? But the fun stopped the moment he took things too far.

  “You hurt me.” Jenny’s voice cracked.

  “It was a mistake.”

  Jenny dropped her head and began to cry.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Jenny heard his voice first behind her, then through the phone line. Before she had time to turn and look, a hand closed over her mouth and she was pushed into the back of a car with no chance to scream for help.

  Or was it a truck?

  She blinked. She couldn’t decide what the getaway vehicle was when her thoughts were interrupted by Him bursting into her room. Surprised, Jenny’s heart skipped a beat as she flopped onto her stomach and crawled on all fours, trying to escape. He caught her ankle and reeled her back as she let out a piercing scream.

  Jenny twisted onto her back and kicked at his hands. “Leave me alone. Help!”

  The man batted her foot away, blocked her kicks with his forearm, and smothered her with his body. Jenny squirmed beneath him and clawed at the floor, trying to escape. He wasn’t wearing much, clothed in just white boxer briefs and a white t-shirt, hiding his face behind that stupid mask that caused Jenny to have nightmares.

  “Help! He’s going to rape me!” Jenny screamed, tempted to call out the others by name. But she couldn’t. Then he would know she’d been talking, and he’d certainly kill her.

  A fiery pain jolted her head, shot down her spine. He closed his fist on top of her head and yanked her to her feet by the roots of her hair. Jenny screamed again, fearing for her life. This was it. He was coming for her—coming to rape her, or kill her, or both.

  He shoved her forward and Jenny stopped herself by gripping onto the doorframe. “Help!” She stretched her neck and screamed at the top of her lungs, “He’s going to kill me!”

  Jenny waited for one of the other girls to respond. When no one did, her eyes welled with thick tears. Where were they? Why weren’t they coming to help?

  Clamping his hand around her neck, he slammed her against the wall and said, “Screaming will only make this worse.”

  Jenny looked him directly in the eye and yelled, “Help!”

  He lurched forward, clamped a hand over her mouth. Jenny bit down, taking a piece of his flesh between her teeth. She watched his eyes wince in obvious pain, but it wasn’t enough to get him to release. It only made him angrier.

  Pinning her body against his, he dragged her across the basement floor and led her to a closed room where he kicked the door open. As he tossed her inside, Jenny tripped over her feet and caught herself before falling. As soon as she lifted her head and brushed her hair out of her eyes, she realized he’d brought her to Megan’s room.

  Jenny’s gaze bounced between the photographs. He’d done the same with Megan as he did to her, with only one exception—Megan’s room had a TV.

  “Why are you showing me this?” she asked.


  Without speaking, he pointed the clicker at the TV and Jenny watched the screen come to life. Jenny stared at him and he nodded his head for her to watch.

  Jenny moved closer to the screen and listened as the news reported Megan’s death. She started to cry. “You sick bastard. Why did you kill her?”

  He whispered, “That is what happens when you disobey my instruction.”

  “Is that why I’m here? Because you think I disobeyed your instruction?”

  He cocked his head. “Didn’t you?”

  Jenny wondered how he knew. Had he been home when she talked, or did he have cameras? Would another girl tell him?

  “I know about everything that happens inside my house.” He moved to her and Jenny was too scared to breathe. Taking her face inside his hand, he stroked her cheek with his thumb. Her bones trembled. “Have you been talking, Jenny? Tell me the truth.”

  Jenny was too afraid to answer.

  The man gripped her neck and squeezed, cutting off her air supply. Jenny’s eyes widened as she struggled to breathe. “I know you’ve been talking to the others.” His fingers tightened and dug deeper into her flesh as he stretched her neck further until he had her standing on tiptoes. “Shall I kill you, too?”

  Jenny squeezed her eyes shut—her body wriggled, desperate for air—and just when she thought she would pass out, he released his hold. She dropped to the floor, gasped, and coughed on all fours. Then, to her surprise, she watched him leave the room.

  Did he want her to follow? She didn’t know. Sitting on her heels, she dropped her chin and began to cry. A second later, he was back.

  “Here. Eat this.” He pushed a plate near her.

  “What is it?” Jenny asked.

  “It’s simple but packed full of nutrition. Exactly what your body needs.”

  Jenny’s eyes widened a fraction. She’d heard those words before. Turning to the plate, she stared at the perfectly rolled burrito. There was only one person in her life who ever gave her this meal and said those exact words—the coincidence was too great to ignore. But could it really be him?

  Slowly, Jenny raised her gaze and stared from behind a curtain of lashes at the large man hovering over her, wondering if it really could be Coach Bennett who was hiding behind the mask.

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  It was three forty-three a.m. when the phone rang.

  I stopped typing, pulled my fingers off the keyboard, and flicked my tired and puffy eyes to my cellphone. Did I want to take this call? Nothing good could come from a phone call at this hour. Could it be Allison following up about Nicholas Bennett taking these girls? Probably not at this hour.

  The cellphone was still vibrating when I turned it screen-side up.

  Another unknown number.

  Could it be Archie?

  I set the phone back down. I didn’t have it in me to chance a call this late at night.

  I couldn’t sleep when I’d finally gotten home after swinging by Erin’s house to pick up Archie’s book and check on Eva. I’d made sure Mason was safe in his bed and then sat down in my living room. I picked up Archie’s book on PQK and began to read. It didn’t take long to get sucked in. It read like a thriller, and the more I learned about PQK, the more terrifying he became.

  Just like the person I assumed the police were looking for now, PQK picked his victims carefully and disposed of them violently. He was intelligent and hid in plain sight. It was all documented in Archie’s book and read as if it was happening in real time. It left me feeling stuck. There was still no sight of Jessica Hinojos, nor of Jane Doe’s body. The similarities between what I was reading and what I was living were frighteningly clear.

  We just couldn’t seem to catch a break. I kept asking myself if these attacks were done at the hands of a copycat—the same copycat that Archie first warned me about at the awards ceremony two nights ago.

  My head swam in exhaustion, a throbbing headache moving in from the back of my skull. There was so much on my plate with little to show for my work. The longer I stayed up, the more critical I became of how the DPD was handling the sudden change of events. How could they go from wanting to hide certain crime statics from the public to calling in the FBI to assist with the investigation? I welcomed the move, but it all seemed too sudden.

  Cooper stirred at my feet and groaned. I cast my gaze to him and thought about my son, sound asleep in the next room. On autopilot, I clicked my computer mouse and watched the news of Jessica’s abduction for what felt like the hundredth time. I paused the footage, zoomed in on the obscure faces of the two men—of the van—and asked myself if this could be the big break we’d been waiting for. I hoped it was. As badly as I wanted to reach out to King for a response, I didn’t.

  Then it hit me.

  I’d forgotten about Mason’s permission slip from school. I retrieved it from the kitchen counter and took another look at the fine print. If his school was monitoring student’s emails, why not South High too? And, if they were, was there a way to gain access to the missing girls’ communications? There must be, but who would open that door for me? Nicholas Bennett?

  My cell started ringing again, and I nearly killed the power to it when I saw Erin’s number flash across the screen. As soon as I answered, Erin spoke in a flurry of panic.

  “Slow down,” I told her.

  “Sam, we nearly lost her,” Erin said as she told me about her night.

  I closed my eyes and imagined Eva packing her small bag as she demanded Erin let her go. Then I asked, “Did you hear about the Amber Alert?”

  “This is getting out of hand, Sam. First Megan. Now Jessica. No wonder Eva wants to leave.”

  “How much does she know?”

  “All of it.” Erin cursed, as if suddenly realizing something. She said she first thought it was only a nightmare Eva experienced, but when she went outside and saw a cherry red pickup speed away, she began to have doubts.

  My thoughts immediately jumped to the man and truck I saw outside the 7-Eleven tonight. I wondered at the odds. I was thinking about Archie when I reminded her, “Archie doesn’t drive a pickup truck.”

  “No, but you’ll never guess who does.”

  My expression pinched when I asked, “Who?”

  “Lewis Stark.” Erin paused for effect. “And it’s him Eva wants to see.”

  Was Stark a collector of women? Was that what this was about? Where did Eva fit into his life exactly? It was something I planned to find out as soon as I finished paying my respects to Megan Hines’s parents. My day was just beginning.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Four hours later, I stepped into the media circus outside Megan’s parents’ house. I wasn’t surprised to find myself jockeying for position, fighting to tell the same story as every other journalist in town. This was the next best thing until the police department gave us an update on their missing persons case—if they ever would.

  I moved amongst the crowd, wedged between innocent bystanders, and wasn’t surprised to not find Archie anywhere near the scene. Where did that man go? Why did it seem he dropped off the planet as soon as Jessica disappeared?

  I hated myself for doing it, but I called Archie and left him a voicemail asking him to call me back. I wasn’t sure he would, but at least I was making an effort. Catch me if you can…

  Everyone from last night was here—local and national affiliates all wanting to get a piece of the action. Since the press conference confirming Megan’s death, there still hadn’t been an official response given by the mayor and I questioned whether he cared at all. These were his constituents, too, I thought as I looked around.

  I found my way to the front of the line and stared at the Hines’ home. Though the curtains were closed and the lights on, this would be the last place I would want to be if I was them. Lucky for me, I had their personal cell number and was about to call when I caught sight of Heidi.

  She was packing up with her crew, preparing to leave. I hurried over, wondering where they were going.
As I approached, she lifted her head and said, “This is a dud story.”

  “Who is your source?” I asked.

  Heidi laughed. “Still haven’t figured it out?”

  “I know it’s someone inside the department.” We shared a knowing look. The irony was that I was the one dating a cop. Yet somehow this was different. “But what I really want to know is who the teacher is you were referring to last night?”

  “And give away my story?” Heidi quirked a single eyebrow. “I don’t think so.”

  “Don’t you care about these young women?” Heidi ignored me as I followed her to her news van. “Before Megan, another girl was murdered. No one knows who, and apparently her body went missing from the morgue.”

  Heidi made no indication she cared, nor that she was even listening. She surprised me when she turned and said, “I’ll tell you what. You let me meet with that girl you’re housing, and I’ll tell you the name of the pedophile teacher who I know is preying on his students.”

  Our eyes locked. I wondered how she knew about Eva. I asked, but she didn’t tell. We were at a standstill as neither of us was prepared to share what we knew.

  “Exactly,” she said. “We both have a secret. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my team and I have work to do.”

  I watched Heidi climb into her van and leave. As soon as I was alone, I thought about calling Erin to tell her to keep a close eye on Eva with everyone seeming to want to get a piece of her when my phone vibrated with a call from Dawson.

  “Nice try on getting everyone’s attention on Jane Doe,” he said, telling me about the walls he hit in trying to locate her, too. “It’s like she never existed.”

  I asked if he received the piece I wrote last night—he did and liked what I wrote on Megan Hines. Then I said, “There might be more to come after I meet with her parents.”

  He said, “Send them my condolences. Sad the story turned out the way it did.”

 

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