The Forum

by Marie Reyes

  "Don't worry. Can I use this towel for the bleeding?"

  She couldn't bring herself to answer, and Aadesh took her silence as a yes and wrapped the towel around her hand. It didn't take long for the deep red to seep through to the other side. "You'll need to keep this on for a while."

  She looked into his soft brown eyes for reassurance. "So do you have a nickname, like Ads, Desh, Addy?"

  "I don't like Addy."

  "Noted." She held her good hand in his and hoisted herself up. She felt shaky, like she had low blood sugar, but felt better then she had a moment ago. She wondered if the killer would still have broken into her house if she was just there alone without the others around her. She wondered what would have happened if she had been at home when they did. She couldn't comprehend what it might feel like to be defenseless and tied to a chair. What it might feel like to have a sharp knife puncture her body and cut deep into her.

  She couldn't imagine the fear of knowing that you would die imminently and the fear of the pain, and what was on the other side waiting for you. Kristen liked to believe there was nothing after death, because if that was the case, then there would be nothing to worry about. No more pain. Once she washed the blood off her hand, she realized the cut wasn't as bad as she thought and was already starting to coagulate. She grabbed a bandage from the cabinet under the sink and stuck it over the cut.

  ~~~

  The office of Best Choice Insurance was located in a business park only a thirty-minute drive from where Kristen lived. North of Chicago, not far from O'Hare airport. It was obvious when they approached it. It was like its own little microcosm with perfectly trimmed grass, pristine pathways and well-pruned trees. The white building with huge glass panels and a coffee shop attached was the biggest office in the area with fountains out front spraying water up into the air. Kristen wasn't sure how close they would be able to get but was reassured that there was a guest parking lot for which they did not require a security pass. They parked far away from the building, though not through choice.

  "We will probably need a pass to get in, right?" Kristen had no idea what they were going to do beyond the point of getting there.

  "We could say we're waiting for someone and sit at reception," Martin suggested.

  "What if they ask us who we're waiting for?" she responded.

  "Okay. We could just have coffee until closing time, then just wait outside."

  "Won't that seem a little suspicious? What if they're doing overtime? They're probably not even working today. Probably too busy tending to Isabella Torres." Kristen was starting to doubt everything, and that hollow feeling of hopelessness returned.

  "Well, this is all we have to go on. Maybe we can try again another day if we don't spot the guy today," Martin reassured her. "We don't give up."

  "Well, in that case, let’s take a bench by the fountain. I brought snacks." Kristen shook the bag of treats in the air.

  "Everything is about snacks with you, and I love it." Martin sat down and grabbed a bag of potato chips.

  Aadesh took a seat and grabbed a chip from the bag that Martin had opened. "You got it all backwards. These are crisps, not chips." He placed one in his mouth and crunched. The sunlight shone through the spray coming from the fountain. The perfect day to catch a killer. "I mean if you call crisps chips, and you call chips fries, then what do you call fat, chunky, fries?"

  "Sorry that just hurt my brain." Piper sat down. "Look, people are coming out." It was just gone 4pm so some people must have been finishing their shifts. Piper tried to smooth down the ill-fitting blouse she had borrowed from Kristen, who had wanted them to look as smart as possible to fit in.

  Their eyes were fixed on the people streaming out through the automatic doors. Were any of these people capable of what they had witnessed in the videos? It didn't look like it. Some chatted to each other, some of them had their eyes glued to their cell phones. They looked absorbed in their own little worlds, oblivious to anything around them, but none of them had the face of a killer, if there even was such a thing.

  Kristen shoved a handful of chips into her mouth, eating her feelings, trying to distract herself from the creeping feeling that this was all in vain, and just some shot in the dark. For two hours they sat there, watching and waiting until everyone started to look the same in their shirts and ties, skirts and blouses.

  What had been a relaxing sound of running water from the fountain, now made her want to pee. "If no one else is going to say it, I will. This is pointless."

  Martin swiveled on the bench to face her. "Maybe, but at least we've done something. If we hadn't wouldn't you always wonder. At least if you do everything you can, you can sleep easier at night—"

  "Shh. Oh my god." Kristen turned and gripped the back of the bench with both hands.

  "What?" Martin asked as everyone sat upright, peering over in the direction of Kristen's eye-line like meerkats, and turned back to her when she started trembling.

  "It's him."

  "Who?" Martin stood up.

  "Sit down," Kristen demanded with the best, do as I say, look she could muster. "I went on a date with that guy," she whispered.

  "Which one?"

  "The lanky one. Blue shirt."

  "Maybe that's your in? An insider. Do you think he would do you a favor?"

  "What if it's him? What if he's the killer? Maybe he scoped me out?" Kristen doubled over, sick to her stomach.

  "We need to follow him then," said Aadesh, watching him walk towards a silver Honda Civic. "We need to act fast." They followed his lead and walked back to Kristen's car as they shielded her behind them to make sure he did not recognize her.

  "You sure you're okay to drive?" Aadesh asked as he noticed the tremors come back to her hands when she started the car.

  "I have to be." She waited for the Honda to pass and pulled out behind it.

  Aadesh wondered what he could say to calm her down. She needed to calm down or there could be an accident. "You know it could be a coincidence. Lots of people work here. It's not that far from where you live. It's well within the realms of possibility that—"

  "He was the one that found me, on a dating site."

  Aadesh took a photo of the license plate through the windshield. "Did he do anything strange on the date?"

  "Yes. He seemed nice at first, but then... I couldn't get him to leave. What if he was the guy? We did stuff. I can't even..." Her hands started shaking more, and the car kept veering.

  "Stay calm, okay. We don't know if it's him yet. No point worrying for no reason. This guy could just work there. He could even help. No sense in panicking," Aadesh tried to talk her down, but he had that niggling gut feeling that this was him.

  "Can you tell us anymore about the date? Anything else he did, or said?"

  Kristen turned to follow the Honda, telling herself to remain focused. "I remember his eyes. They were so blue. Like a light blue, but really intense. Almost unnatural, like he was wearing contacts or something."

  Aadesh could see Martin and Piper look at each other, and he knew exactly what they were thinking as he was reminded of the masked man approach the camera in the second video. This person worked at the office that two of the victims had called, and the daughter of one of those victims had been invited out by someone from that office on an online dating site. Someone with intense blue eyes, just like the person in the video. Yes, it could have been a coincidence, but in Aadesh's mind, this was undeniable.

  Martin and Piper did not speak up, probably for the same reason he hadn't. He could only imagine what Kristen's reaction would be. To think that you had been intimate with someone that did something so heinous to someone you love. They could tell her once she was no longer in control of a moving vehicle.

  Chapter

  Thirty Two

  Kristen pulled up a few cars down from the Honda Civic and they watched as the guy got out and walked up to one of the houses and pressed the doorbell. An older woman answered the door and looked a
t him with familiarity before letting him in and closing the door behind him.

  "Listen Kristen. What you said about this man, your date. The man in the video faced the camera. His eyes were just like you described." Aadesh looked at her, waiting for the penny to drop, waiting for her world to fall apart and the pieces to crash to the floor. There was no crying, screaming, or shouting, just a sad, empty look of resignation.

  "What do we do then?"

  "We need to find out who this guy is. I wonder how long he'll be in there for? I saw him put his work pass on the dashboard before he got out. It might have is name on it."

  "What if he comes out?"

  "I'll only be quick. I can do it," Martin offered. "I'm dressed smart. If anyone comes out, I can just pretend I'm a salesman or something. It'll only take a second to glance through the car window."

  "What if he recognizes you?"

  "Seriously, don't worry. I'll just be a second." He opened the door before anyone could talk him out of it. He walked as fast as possible to get it over with. As he neared the house, he could see the curtains were only opened a crack, and he could easily go unnoticed. As he got closer to the car, he started crouching a little, peering in through the window.

  The pass was there, card side up with those blue eyes looking up at him. They gave him the creeps and he couldn't shake that feeling of being watched. The name on the badge was small, and he brought his face right up against the glass to avoid the glare. Connor Miller. Such an innocuous sounding name, he thought as he committed it to memory.

  The honk of a horn made him flinch, and he looked back at Kristen's car. They were waving at him.

  "Can I help you?" A female voice came from his left and he froze. Every muscle in his body clenched and his throat felt like it was closing up.

  "Who are you?" was the only thing he could think to say.

  "I live here. Who the hell are you?" The girl looked at him and despite her firm voice, there was fear in her eyes.

  "This guy clipped my car when we were driving, but he didn't stop. I just wanted to get his plate number, find out who he was so I could make a claim against him." It was the first thing that came to mind, and he wasn't sure she was buying it.

  "Why were you looking in through the window, huh? All you should need is the license plate number. Were you trying to steal my stepbrother’s car?" She waited for a response, but Martin couldn't get any words out. "Well? Answer me or I'm calling the cops."

  For some reason, the pressure got to him. He wasn't some criminal. Was he really going to ruin their cover, and to let this guy know that they were onto him? He tried not to, but the words slipped out of his mouth like a glass sliding through his fingers and the liquid within pouring all over the floor. There was no putting the water back in the broken glass. "Okay. Don't call the cops. I'm going to be straight with you. I think your stepbrother has done something bad, like really bad. I can't say anything else, I'm sorry."

  She stood there with a glazed look in her eyes as if she was in shock before she finally managed to open her mouth. "You know him?"

  "You could say that. Listen, I know you don't know me, but if you want to be a good person, please, please don't tell him I was here. You have no idea what that will do, and I wish I could explain it, but..."

  "Do you live near here?" she asked, her eyes darting nervously as if she was checking they weren't being watched.

  "We're not too far away."

  "Do you know Bleacher's Bar in Des Plaines?"

  "I don't personally, but I'm sure I'll be able to find it."

  "I will be there at 8pm tonight. Meet me?"

  "Why?"

  "I can't explain it now, just go, quick, before he sees you."

  "What's your name?"

  "Kerry. Now quick, go!"

  Martin hurried back to the car. Kerry. She didn't seem like a Kerry. He jumped in, breathless.

  "Oh my god, what happened? She's going to tell him you were there. It's over," Kristen babbled in a panic.

  "No. Listen, it's fine. Don't get mad, just listen. I told her the truth, why I was there. She wasn't buying what I was telling her, so I told her the truth—"

  "Mart—"

  "Let me finish. She looked really scared. I got weird vibes off of her, like she knew something. She wants to meet us in a bar tonight. I think she knows something, and I think she's on our side. She told me to leave quickly because she didn't want him seeing me. She's his step-sister."

  "How much did you tell her?"

  "I just said that I thought he did something bad. She did not look surprised. I'm telling you, she knows something, she might even be scared of him."

  "What bar?" Kristen perked up with a newfound energy.

  "Bleachers, in Des Plaines. Do you know it?"

  "I know the one." Kristen grinned. "I can't believe it. We may actually catch this person. I never thought we would even come close." Her eyes watered as if she was going to cry, but she could not stop smiling.

  Chapter

  Thirty Three

  He was gone, for now. She couldn't stand it when he was there. When he was there, she tried to detach herself and leave her body. When he was there, she would pretend she wasn't. It was all some nightmare that she begged to awake from and to be safe in her bed. When he wasn't there, she would crawl around on her stomach looking for a sharp edge, anything she could use to try to free herself from her restraints that tied her hands behind her back and bound her feet.

  The door was padlocked from the outside. The inside was just gray concrete from floor to ceiling. It was worse than a prison cell. There was no toilet, no nothing. Her captor had taken great pleasure the first time she pissed herself. He berated her for being so disgusting and told her that she looked and smelled like shit. Flecks of spit would hit her in the face as he shouted. Obscene things, things that made her recoil and wish she could put her hands over her ears. She had heard stories from her parents about the things they had to endure when they were smuggled across the border, and Isabella had taken it for granted that she would never have to go through something so dehumanizing. She assumed she would not be treated like an animal.

  The man that kept her here made it his personal mission to humiliate her as much as possible. He made her eat from a bowl without using her hands like a dog. Just thinking about it made her cry all over again, and even though she was dehydrated, the tears just kept coming. When he wasn't around, she could cry as much as she liked without penance.

  Day by day, it only got worse. The day he tried to rape her but couldn't, that was the worst. She thought she had seen true anger, until then. He had never actually even hit her up until that point. He beat the shit out of her then and it was a pain unlike she had ever experienced before, a pain that made every second unbearable until she wished she was dead a million times over.

  Then, just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, he pissed on her. His revenge. As she felt the hot liquid on her skin, soaking into her ripped t-shirt, he said that she deserved it for being so disgusting, for putting him off. He condemned her for crimes she hadn't even committed. He called her a whore over and over. She wriggled closer to the door. She had tried everything already. Screaming, searching every inch of the room, but there was nothing, no way out. Think. Think. Think. She would have literally done anything at this point. She would have cut a hand off to be able to get out. Maybe if she hit her head against the concrete, hard, over and over again, she would be free. There was more than one type of freedom.

  She had tried cutting the thin rope on the hinges of the door. The only thing that vaguely protruded from all the flat surfaces, but to no avail. Maybe if she did it long enough, something would finally give. Friction and time. She was certain there was nothing else she could do as she slid up the wall onto her knees. All she needed was to get her hands free. She couldn't think any further ahead than that.

  Chapter

  Thirty Four

  "I think it should just be me," said Martin. "I did
n't mention anyone else being involved and I don't want to spook her."

  "What if it's a trap?" Piper asked. After she had left her children behind, Martin was the closest thing she had to family, and she wasn't about to let anything bad happen to him.

  "If that is the case, all the more reason for me to stay separate from you. Just sit in the corner. I'll be fine. If she is going to trust someone, it's going to be me." Martin took a seat in the middle of the bar and the others sat at the back. Far enough away to not attract attention, but close enough to reassure him. He ordered himself a craft beer and waited.

  Every time someone entered the bar, his heart skipped a beat. It differed from his usual brand of anxiety. Some things made him anxious in a way that made him feel like he couldn't carry on, but certain things were different, like when he went abseiling. The fear felt like it had a purpose, like it would lead to something that would change him for the better.

  His chest tightened when she walked in. Her eyes scanned the bar, and she looked even more scared than earlier. It must have taken courage to come and meet a stranger. For all she knew, he could be a predator. He wondered how old she was as she didn't even look like she was of legal drinking age.

  Their eyes met, and she took a deep breath before approaching, sliding into the seat opposite him. "Thank you for coming," he said, looking at the other customers, hoping they didn't think he was the kind of guy that tried to take advantage of younger women.

  "I'll be quick." She looked around, still clearly nervous, paranoid even. "Please tell me why you were trying to find Connor."

  Martin thought about it, unsure how much he should divulge. "I have reason to believe, he may have hurt someone."

  "A woman?" she asked.

  "Yes." He nodded.

  "I was afraid you'd say that."

  "Listen, I'm worried about a particular woman. Do I have reason to be worried?"