Don't Forget Me

by Stacy Claflin

  He ignored her sobs as he made his way over to the kitchen and put her plate in the microwave. His stomach rumbled. He wasn’t going to eat until she did, but if she continued refusing, he might have to have a meal by himself.

  Maisie continued crying while he waited for her food to warm.

  He clenched his fists, then pulled out his phone to check the updates. The kidnapping was still top news, trending everywhere above most everything else, although a tsunami was threatening some random island and that story was gaining traction.

  “Come on, tsunami,” he mumbled.

  The microwave beeped. He put away the phone and pulled out the steaming plate of macaroni and cheese with animal-shaped chicken nuggets and mashed potatoes. Foods that every kid loved.

  He set it next to her. “Eat. You need your strength.”

  The kitten sniffed at it, more interested than Maisie.

  “When can I go home?”

  “Don’t you like this place?”

  “I wanna go home, Tony.”

  He gritted his teeth. “This place is better than home. You have a kitty, you have all those toys in your bedroom, and now you have the biggest yard ever—the whole forest!”

  “But not my parents.”

  “They’re always dropping you off places. At daycare, school, class at church. Really, how often do you actually see them? I have all the time in the world for you. You can do whatever you want. Anything!”

  She finally met his gaze. “I want to see my mommy and daddy. I want to go home and ride my Hummer.”

  “That’s what you’re worried about?” He exclaimed. “I’ll get you a whole fleet of cars you can ride! You won’t be limited to the sidewalk. You can ride those things all over the forest. Literally anywhere you want.”

  Maisie frowned.

  Anger was starting to build in his chest. “Look. You need to eat. Clean that plate, or I’ll give you something to really cry about!”

  More tears spilled onto her face.

  Tony spun around and stormed into the kitchen. He was starting to sound like his dad, and he hated that. The last person he wanted to turn into was that monster—the man who blamed his wife’s suicide on his two sons. It wasn’t like he could blame it on their dead sister.

  Raw fury ran through him at the thought of it all. He’d run away as a teenager, never to return home, but that didn’t stop all of those old events from haunting him. They would never leave him alone. His father’s harsh words would follow him to the grave. Nothing could make him forget.

  He could pretend they never happened, but he was only kidding himself. There was no forgetting his dad, ever.

  Maisie was still sniffling in the next room. “You’d better be eating! That plate better be clean by the time I get in there, or I swear I will give you something to cry about! Things here can either be really good or really bad. It’s your choice!”

  He piled some food on a plate and stuck it in the microwave, slamming the door.

  The girl was still making noises in the living room.

  It rubbed his last nerve raw. He needed to calm down before he really started acting like his old man. To distract himself, he brought out his phone again. Most every news source was dominated by the kidnapping and the impending tsunami. Apparently, there was a vigil at the church for Maisie.

  Like that was going to convince him to bring her back. Not when he’d gone to so much effort to get her to the cabin. It had been almost a week, and he’d spent a lot of money.

  No. She was his now, and he’d do whatever it would take to make her feel at home and comfortable. What they both needed was food and sleep. He certainly didn’t trust her enough to let himself fall asleep. No, she was a flight risk. So, after eating, he would have to lock her in the bedroom—something he hadn’t wanted to do—just so he could get some shut eye. He really needed some. His eyelids were fighting to close.

  The microwave beeped. He took his food and shoveled it into his mouth, not caring that it burned. After swallowing, he called to Maisie, “I’m eating, and you’d better be, too. Are you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. We’ll both feel a lot better.”

  He continued scarfing down food and checking the news feeds for updates.

  Then he saw something that made him choke.

  His picture.

  He was now wanted in connection to Maisie’s disappearance. Interviews with the girl’s parents, the church usher, the girl at the pet shop, and even the waiter from the restaurant he’d eaten at with Maisie’s family all described him in detail.

  No… he hadn’t been careful enough. But it didn’t matter. Nobody would ever be able to find him in the cabin. It was a place the world had forgotten. The building may as well not even exist as far as anyone else was concerned.

  He put his plate and fork in the sink. “Time for bed, Maisie. We need our sleep. It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow.”

  Answers

  Alex’s pulse pounded as he stared at the small, nondescript room. It was even more plain and more intimidating than the interrogation rooms back at their precinct.

  Nick flipped through a pad of paper, seemingly at ease in the penitentiary. Two guards were on their way with Flynn—or whoever was in death row in his place. It felt like forever since they’d left for him. They had to be close.

  Would Alex finally get the answers he’d been in search of for so long? Could he tell Flynn everything he had been wanting to say since the man had taken Ariana?

  The door opened.

  Alex sat up straight and exchanged a glance with Nick. They both wanted answers, but this was personal for Alex. This man had been toying with Alex for too long.

  The two guards shoved Flynn into the room and secured him to the other side of the table. He was cuffed at his wrists and ankles, and the cuffs were connected with thick chain.

  Flynn glared at Alex. The man had his thinning hair again, and his skin was as pale as it had been before. His blue eyes were also dark again. But it was definitely him.

  The guards said they’d be just outside if needed, then left.

  It took every bit of Alex’s self-control to stay in the chair as he stared at the man who had abducted Ariana. He clenched his fists under the table and glared at the criminal. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “Why did you want to see me?”

  Flynn leaned back, a smug expression covering his face. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Alex glanced at Nick, who gave him a look reminding him to stay calm. Alex gritted his teeth.

  “Well?” Flynn smirked.

  “Will you stop with the texts after this?” Alex demanded.

  “What texts?”

  Alex leaned forward. “You know what texts!”

  Flynn shrugged.

  Nick pressed his palms on the table. “If you don’t want to talk about that, we can always discuss the missing girl. Where is she?”

  “What missing girl? I don’t hear much news in the slammer, you know. I’ve been here for, what, two years now? It’s so hard to tell. Time just isn’t the same in here.”

  “Boohoo.” Alex glared at him and took a deep breath. “You wanted me here. Why?”

  The jerk’s expression turned smug again. “I hear you’re blaming things on me that I haven’t done.”

  “We have pictures.” Nick slid a zoomed-in picture of Flynn with Maisie and her family that had been in the background of someone else’s photo.

  Flynn studied it. “Looks like Flynn is up to his old games.”

  Alex gave Nick a knowing look before turning to Flynn. “So you do have a twin!”

  He pointed to the picture and smirked again. “That would be Flynn.”

  If Alex could get away with punching the psycho, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

  “If he’s Flynn, who the hell are you?” Nick asked, keeping his expression rigid.

  Flynn shrugged.

  “Who are you?” Alex struggled not to yell. “If you’re not Flynn, who are you?�
��

  “Lloyd, the better-looking brother. Everyone just assumed I was Flynn when I was arrested for my murders, so I went with it.” He yawned. “My brother isn’t happy with me taking his fake identity, but whatever.”

  Alex could hardly believe he’d been right about the twin theory. “You’re Lloyd?”

  “Yes. Flynn is my twin. And yes, I know that rhymes—Flynn the twin. I’ve always hated that, but it is what it is.”

  “And you both kidnap and murder girls?” Alex couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

  Flynn—Lloyd—glanced down at the photograph. “Apparently. I didn’t know he was in the game, too. He knew what I was doing but never said anything about his activities. The snide loser always acted like he was better than me. Turns out he’s not. Can’t say I’m surprised, actually.”

  Nick flipped through his pages of notes. “So, you’re Lloyd Myer and your brother—?”

  “Lloyd Vassman. Myer was Flynn’s fake identity. Changed his name after Dad kicked him out of the house. Dad was damn near ready to kill Flynn after everything that happened.”

  “Everything? What happened?” Alex demanded.

  Lloyd’s expression darkened. “Our sister died accidentally. After that, Mom did herself in. Dad turned to alcohol and blamed me and Flynn. My brother high-tailed it out of there. I stuck around and listened to him blaming me for everything until I graduated and escaped. Then I started recreating our sister’s death and killing the girls for not cooperating. Now I’m here—but you already knew that.”

  Nick mumbled to himself, flipping through his pages and also sliding his finger around his phone’s screen. Then he looked up at Lloyd. “So, it was because of the fake last name that we never discovered you were a twin.”

  “Bingo.” Lloyd gave him a Cheshire grin.

  “I see it all here. Do you know what assumed name Flynn is using now? Everyone seems to think his name is Tony.”

  Lloyd snorted. “The loser took Dad’s name? Wow, I don’t even know what to say about that.”

  “Where does he have the girl?” Nick stared Lloyd down.

  “Do I look like I know? I’ve been in here for years. We’ve never been close, even when we were both free killers.”

  “Where is he?” Nick slammed his fist on the table.

  “Let me check my crystal ball. Oh, wait. I don’t have one.”

  “Where do you think he would take her?”

  “His house?”

  “Nope. The authorities already searched his apartment. His girlfriend told them where he lived.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. Flynn always needs a woman. He’s pathetic that way.”

  “You had all kinds of properties.” Nick glared at Lloyd. “Is there one he might use? One that we never found when investigating your crimes?”

  “How would I know?”

  Nick drew in a deep breath. “Fill in the details, or I’ll call the guards back in.”

  “I’m done here, anyway. Good luck finding Flynn. He’s evaded capture all this time. He always gets what he wants. You probably won’t find him now. However, there is one cabin I never used. Have fun locating it.” Lloyd hollered for the guards.

  Nick told them about Lloyd’s real identity. He and Alex headed back to the car, and Nick called Anderson, filling him in on everything Lloyd had told them.

  Location

  Nick blinked his eyes several times to see the laptop screen straight. His vision was blurry from so little sleep. He’d only slept a few hours total, and on his couch, no less.

  Now that they knew the truth about Flynn and Lloyd Vassman, there was so much more to work with, which also meant more time poring over details.

  Everything Lloyd had told them held up—the twins, their sister, their mother, and their alcoholic father who was now also deceased.

  His phone rang. It was the precinct in Maisie’s town.

  “Captain Fleshman.”

  “This is Detective Ines. We have a possible location on that cabin. There are some old paper records of it, owned by the Vassmans’ dad. It was reported destroyed and never rebuilt.”

  Nick grabbed a pen. “What’s the address?”

  “The middle of the woods.” Ines gave him coordinates, then filled him in on the plan to stake out the building.

  “Are the feds leading this?”

  “They’re providing resources and working with us, but my chief is calling the shots.”

  “I’m going to bring in my guys.”

  “Good. I’ll be in touch with more details.”

  They ended the call, then Nick scrambled out of his office and called everyone into the main conference room. He filled them in, gave orders, then raced back to his office to prepare for the drive.

  Nick drove while Garcia kept in contact with the other department. It sounded like they were all going to arrive at about the same time.

  Nick’s heart raced. They’d already passed the critical forty-eight-hour period. Chances of saving Maisie were growing slimmer by the minute—and they were dealing with a man who killed all of his victims. Just like his twin brother.

  What were the chances of twin serial killers? Was it in the DNA, or the way they’d been raised? Perhaps a mixture of both. Everything they’d gone through in their early teen years would’ve been enough to cause severe psychological damage to anyone. But not everyone would turn to murdering girls. There had to be something in their biological make-up that drove them to it.

  Nick shuddered at the thought, especially given his son could be biologically related to a psychopath.

  “You okay, Captain?” Garcia asked.

  “Yeah. Just hoping we can save the girl. If he knows we’re on to him, he might move faster to hurt her.”

  “There hasn’t been any activity at the Foster house. He hasn’t returned to bury her. That’s good news.”

  “He could be waiting. Or found somewhere new to bury this one.”

  “He’s been using the same location for thirty years. I can’t see him changing now.”

  “There’s a livestream on that house. If he knows about that, there’s no way he’s setting foot anywhere near there.”

  “That’s true.”

  “And all his other victims are gone. The Foster’s property means nothing to him now. People like him return to relive their past conquests.”

  “In that case, let’s hope this cabin is it, and that the girl is safe.”

  Nick glanced at the time. “All we can do is hope.”

  The GPS unit instructed him to turn down a barely-visible dirt road nestled in between thick trees.

  By the time they reached the end of the road, more than a dozen other vehicles were already parked there. Some officers mingled near a van.

  Nick and Garcia went over to the group. More vehicles barreled down the trail and parked. The others brought Nick and Garcia up to speed.

  Officers and agents were scouring the area for the cabin, or anywhere Flynn might be hiding with the girl.

  Nick and Garcia headed out in a direction nobody else had gone yet. Silence fell around them, and the only sounds were of their breathing and of twigs snapping beneath their feet.

  The trail grew tighter, and they used their knives to cut prickly vines while balancing their flashlights. Several thorns cut Nick as he made his way through.

  Garcia kicked down a branch in their way. “Doesn’t seem like anyone’s been out this way in a long time. Maybe we should turn back. There’s no way a man and a kid came through this.”

  “They might’ve taken a different route, but I say we keep going until we can’t.”

  “It’s your call.”

  An owl hooted not far away.

  “If that isn’t creepy, I don’t know what is.” Garcia cut another vine.

  “Maybe it means we’re close.”

  “If you say so.”

  The path grew thicker, and it got to the point where Nick was about ready to turn around.

  Then they came to an o
pening.

  He and Garcia exchanged a curious glance then walked through a small field which led to another tight path.

  Garcia groaned. “I say we go back.”

  Nick pulled out his phone and slid his finger around the screen until he found what he was looking for. “We’re practically on top of the coordinates for that cabin.”

  “I’m sure we are.” Garcia took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

  They made their way along the small path, chopping things out of their way and earning more cuts in the process.

  “We really should go back,” Garcia said. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

  Nick squinted into the distance. “Have a look.”

  Garcia squeezed next to Nick and leaned forward. He swore, then turned to Nick. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “A cabin. With lights on inside.”

  “I’ll call it in.”

  “And I’ll keep cutting these vines.” Nick pushed his way through, keeping his eye on the tiny building in the distance.

  The profile of a man passed by the window.

  “We’ve got you, Flynn Vassman.”

  Mistake

  Flynn pulled on his hair, and the hairpiece came loose.

  Maisie cried out and pulled the kitten closer. The cat hissed and jumped from her lap, scurrying away.

  Flynn yanked the fake hair all the way off and chucked it across the room.

  The little girl buried her face into a throw pillow and wailed.

  “I told you to stop!”

  She shook and sobbed all the more.

  Everything spun around him. He stormed out of the living room and back into the laundry room where he kept his police scanner. It had picked up more activity in the last hour, and that concerned him. He hadn’t been able to understand anything said, but the fact that it picked up anything was bad news.

  Nobody should be anywhere near the hidden, forgotten cabin.

  He turned up the volume. Static grew louder but so did the indiscernible voices. But they seemed to be becoming slightly clearer.

  Then he heard something that sent a cold chill down his spine.