by DeLeon, Jana
He towered above her, the blank face staring down at her. “You will repent. I don’t understand why you refuse. Once you repent, you’re free.”
Hailey blinked. Had she heard him correctly? Was he really going to let her go if she said she was sorry for something she didn’t even do? Surely it wasn’t that simple. She rolled her tongue over her swollen bottom lip and tasted blood. It must have split when she fell. She tried to force her fuddled mind to think. She pretended to care about a lot of things with her father. It was the easiest way to get away from him, even though she didn’t believe half of what she said. Maybe this guy was like her father. Maybe telling him what he wanted to hear would be enough.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll repent.”
“Excellent.” He reached down and pulled her and the chair back upright.
“I’m sorry for getting birth control. I’m sorry for impure thoughts. I know I’m supposed to wait until marriage and I promise that is what I’ll do. I’ll flush the pills. I’ll break up with my boyfriend. He’s too old for me anyway. And I’ll tell my parents about everything I did. All the lies.”
She stopped and sucked in a breath. Surely that was everything.
He stared down at her and every silent second was torture. Finally, he nodded and relief coursed through her. It was almost over. And she hadn’t lied about everything. She was going to tell her parents everything, but first she was going straight to the police station and telling them.
“Now I’ll set you free,” he said and took a step toward her, placing him so close to her that his leg was almost touching hers.
Then he stretched his arms out and his gloved hands grasped her neck.
The horror of what she’d done washed over her and she screamed as his hands tightened. He meant to kill her. That was how he planned on setting her free. He’d never intended to let her go. Why had she been so stupid? All the secrets she’d kept, thinking she was saving herself from problems at home, and instead, she’d managed to draw the attention of a crazy person. She was going to die here and worst of all, her father would be justified in all the things he’d tried to force her into believing.
She didn’t even bother to struggle. There was no point. Her hands were bound. And even if they weren’t, she was too weak to fight off an adult twice her size. Instead, she said a quick prayer for forgiveness, a true repentance, and slipped into darkness.
25
Cool air blew across Hailey’s face and she forced herself to remain still. She was lying on dirt, not the cold stone of the room, and she could no longer feel the ropes cutting into her wrists and ankles. She felt the breeze on her bare feet. Her pulse ticked up and she struggled to remain still. If she was free of the dungeon, this might be her chance to escape. But she had to time it perfectly. She held her breath, listening for any sound that indicated he was nearby, and heard a noise off to her left. Her left arm was partially draped over her head, so it provided her a tiny bit of cover to barely open her eyes.
He was there, just five feet away, doing something with a rope over the cross on a crypt. Rows of crypts stretched in both directions. She was in one of the cemeteries! Her jaw stiffened until it ached, holding in the cry that wanted to burst out. He thought he’d killed her. That’s why they were here.
At the moment, he was turned sideways so he could see her if she moved. But maybe if he faced the other direction, she could jump up and run. She had no idea where she would run to, but as long as she kept moving away from the monster, she should be able to find help. Every agonizing second ticked by as she watched him working with the rope. Then he reached to the side and pulled a small ladder over.
Her pulse quickened. That was her chance. When he was on the ladder, she’d make a run for it. She watched as he placed it in front of the crypt and gathered the rope in his left hand. He used his right hand to guide himself up the ladder. When he was poised on the second-to-last rung and reached up with both hands to stretch the rope over the cross, she drew in a deep breath and shoved herself up from the ground.
Then fell back down with a thud.
The monster spun around and looked down at her, and even though she couldn’t see his eyes, she knew they were locked on her. The lack of food and being in the same position for so long had made her body weak, and something was wrong with her ankle. But no way was she going to let the monster hang her from that cross.
The monster took two steps down the ladder and then jumped off the remaining steps and took a running leap for her. Adrenaline coursed through her and she pushed as hard as she could with her arms, gathering her legs beneath her to force herself up from the ground. As she made it to her feet, he grabbed her arm, his gloved hand squeezing her bruised and cut wrist so hard she cried out in pain.
She yanked her arm, trying to break his grip, but he was too strong for her. Then she remembered the self-defense lessons they’d gotten during PE class at school. The students had joked about it, mostly because no one wanted to think that something bad could happen to them. But the teacher had persisted with lessons, forcing them through the moves.
So instead of trying to pull her right arm away from him, she did what he wasn’t expecting. She spun around to face him and at the same time, struck his wrist with her left hand and yanked her right arm as hard as she could, twisting it to break his stranglehold. As soon as her wrist broke free, she swung her right leg out between the middle of his legs and connected as hard as she could with his crotch.
He yelled and stumbled backward. As he moved away from her, she spun around to run. But as she fled, she stepped on something sharp, like a track of needles, with her right foot. She screamed as pain shot through her foot and up her leg, but she forced herself forward and sprinted off between the crypts. She had no idea where the cemetery ended, but if she kept running in one direction, she should be able to find an exit. The sky was cloudy but the moon peeked out enough from the clouds to cast a dim glow. It was enough to allow her to run without slamming into one of the crypts or the trees that sprang up occasionally between them.
Trees!
It was Metairie Cemetery.
That was the only one she knew of with trees. That meant the interstate was somewhere nearby. She just had to find it. There would be cars there. People. Surely he wouldn’t continue to pursue her with witnesses around.
She heard him running behind her and it sounded like he was gaining on her. But she couldn’t take the chance of looking. The only way to do it safely would be to slow her pace and she wouldn’t risk that. To turn while she was running through the uneven ground, dodging the stone and cement structures, might cause her to trip or slam into something. Then it would all be over. He wouldn’t make the same mistake next time, and she had no doubt that he’d throttle her until every breath of air had left her body.
She sobbed as she ran, the ragged ground tearing at her tender feet, sometimes jabbing directly into the punctures made by whatever she’d stepped on while trying to get away. Her shoulder ached so much that she lowered her right arm as she ran, and every step she took it felt like someone was hammering nails into her ankle. The lack of form slowed her down a bit, making it harder to maintain stride, but she focused on her legs and tried to ignore her broken body.
She burst out of a row of crypts into wide-open space and slowed a tiny bit until she spotted a wrought iron fence just ahead, its brick columns stretching out in a line like tombstones. Without even pausing, she turned up her speed and ran straight at one of the columns. When she was a couple feet away, she leaped up and grabbed it, screaming in pain as she scrambled up the side and over the top.
Momentum carried her all the way over the structure, but she was going too fast to control her landing. She slammed into the ground and pain shot through her shoulder and head again, but she didn’t care. As soon as she connected with the turf, she sprang up and kept running, weaving a bit as wave after wave of dizziness coursed through her. But it was there, right in front of her.
The street.
She ran into traffic, causing the cars to slam on their brakes and angle off to the side to avoid hitting her. A man jumped out and started yelling but then got a good look at her and rushed over.
“Call 911!” he yelled to the other motorists who’d stopped. “What happened?” he asked her, his hands outstretched but hesitant like he was unsure if touching her would hurt her more.
“Kidnapped,” she said. “He’s in the cemetery. Call the cops.”
The stranger caught her as she collapsed.
26
Friday, May 20, 2016
French Quarter, New Orleans
At 2:00 a.m., Jackson and Grayson practically ran down the hallway of the hospital, catching sight of the doctor as he exited Hailey’s room. They put on the brakes and waited as he gave them a rundown of her condition.
“She’s weak from lack of food,” the doctor said. “Her shoulder is seriously bruised and she has a sprained ankle and a mild concussion. Her wrists and ankles are raw from being tied up, and the bottoms of her feet are pretty ragged from running through the cemetery. She also stepped on something with the right foot—looks like small nail holes.”
“Is she going to be all right?” Jackson asked.
The doctor nodded. “Physically, yes. She’ll make a full recovery, but the other…”
“Yeah, we’re hoping we can help with that end,” Grayson said. “Can we talk to her?”
“I know you have to,” the doctor said, “and I won’t bother asking you not to stress her because there’s no way around it. Trust me, I want you to catch the guy who did this as much as you do. But if you see her getting overwrought, then please call the nurse. We haven’t given her a sedative yet because we knew you were on the way.”
“Thank you,” Grayson said, and they entered the room.
Hailey was propped up in bed, her right arm in a sling, her wrists wrapped with bandages. A large bruise was forming on one side of her face, its purple hue almost glaring against her pale skin. She looked up at them as they entered and Jackson could tell she was uneasy.
Grayson pulled out his ID and showed her. “I’m Detective Grayson and this is Detective Lamotte. We were assigned to your missing persons case. I can’t tell you how happy we are to see you here. Are you all right? Do you need the nurse to bring you anything?”
Hailey had relaxed when Grayson introduced them, and now she shook her head. “I’m okay,” she said, her voice weak.
“I know this is hard,” Grayson said, “but we want to catch the guy who did this to you. The sooner we hear your story, the better. Will you talk to us?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice stronger. “I want him caught. I want him strung up on a cross like he was planning to do to me.”
Jackson stiffened, then glanced at Grayson, who frowned. He’d heard about the other girl found in the cemetery and the circumstances of her placement, but he didn’t know about the connection of that case with Shaye’s case. Jackson could barely contain his frantic mind. He’d been right! The cases were related. He’d just been wrong about the perp because it wasn’t Pitre. Hailey’s parents had been in Covington visiting a sick relative and were now en route to the hospital, probably breaking every speeding law in the state.
“Where do I start?” she asked.
“Start when you were taken,” Grayson said.
She shook her head. “I can’t remember that part exactly. I remember putting the chicken out for my mom and then I got a phone call that my prescription was ready. I went out to get it—I know I’m not supposed to leave the house after I get home, but I did, okay. And after I left, I was going to see a, uh, friend.”
“We know about Hudson,” Jackson said.
Hailey’s eyes widened. “Do my parents know?”
“We didn’t tell them,” Grayson said. “But you need to.”
Hailey looked down at her bandaged wrists. “My dad is…he’s not easy.”
“It’s okay,” Jackson said. “We don’t have to talk about that right now. It’s more important to catch the man who did this to you. What do you remember after picking up the prescription?”
“That’s where it all gets fuzzy. I know I took a shortcut across the park and I remember tripping. I think that’s how I hurt my ankle. A man helped me up and gave me a bottle of water, and I kept going until I got to a bench. I remember sitting and taking off my shoe and sock to look at my ankle, and then everything goes blank until…”
She took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. “I woke up in a room,” she continued. “It was small and made of stone with a thick wood door. It was locked from the outside. There was no electricity. The only light I had was when he came and that was from a flashlight.”
“Can you describe him?” Grayson asked.
“He was fairly tall, maybe six feet, and solidly built. But I couldn’t see his face. He had this blank mask. It made him look like he had no face at all.”
Jackson felt his back tighten. He’d been pretty sure before that Hailey had been abducted by Nicolas’s stalker, but now he was positive.
“Did you recognize his voice or was there anything that stood out about the way he walked or moved?” Grayson asked.
“No. I don’t know anything that can help.”
“That’s okay,” Grayson said, trying to keep Hailey from getting more upset. “Just start from when you regained consciousness and tell us everything from there.”
She nodded and started talking, telling them everything that had happened. The inquisition and requirement to repent her sin. Her inability to give him the answer he was looking for. And then his final visit. When he coached her into confession. Into repentance.
And then when she realized how he intended to set her free.
It was all Jackson could do not to punch the wall. He was a cop. He was supposed to have better self-control. But listening to this girl recount the horror she’d been through made his blood run hot. That someone was so demented they could do such things to a child. And all of it made him remember what Shaye had gone through for years on end.
If it was the last thing he did, he was going to catch this guy.
“He thought I was dead,” Hailey said as she described what happened in the cemetery. “I think he was going to hang me on that cross. Over birth control pills.” She choked as she delivered that statement and Grayson poured her a glass of water.
She took a sip and wiped her nose with her bandaged hand. “How can someone do that?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Grayson said. “How did you get away?”
Hailey told him about pretending to be dead and waiting for him to climb the ladder. About how when she tried to spring up, her body wouldn’t comply, and she was almost caught again. Then she told them about remembering the self-defense move from PE class and kicking him. Then she ran and ran until she was safe.
“You are so smart and so brave,” Jackson said. “Most adults wouldn’t have been able to do what you did. You should be very proud of yourself, Hailey.”
Hailey sniffed and the tears that had been lurking at the edge of her eyes finally spilled over. “All I could think of when I reached the road was how glad I was that I’d disobeyed my parents and done all that running. If I hadn’t…”
Grayson nodded. “I have no doubt it saved your life. Your speed and endurance, despite being so weak, were too much for him to match.”
“He was gone before the police got there, wasn’t he?” she asked.
“Yes,” Grayson said. “But I want to go back to something for a minute. The guy who helped you when you fell in the park—can you describe him?”
Hailey opened her mouth to respond, then frowned. “No. I can see him bending over, but I can’t make out his face.” Her eyes widened. “Was that him? Was there something in the water? I had a horrible headache when I woke up. Like I was hungover. Oh my God, why can’t I remember? That was him. If I could just remember, you could catch him.”
&nbs
p; She started to sob, and Jackson placed one hand on her arm, his heart breaking. “We’re going to catch him. And he’ll never hurt anyone else again.”
A choked cry sounded behind them and Hailey’s mother rushed into the room. Her father was right behind but stopped in the doorway, staring at Hailey, his expression a mixture of disbelief and horror.
“Oh my God, my baby!” Hailey’s mother cried and hugged her daughter, causing her to grimace.
Mrs. Pitre realized what she was doing and released her. “I’m so sorry. Your shoulder, your hands. Oh, Hailey, I am so sorry that we weren’t there to protect you.” Then she burst into giant heaving sobs and Hailey began again as well.
Grayson pulled a chair over next to the bed and helped Mrs. Pitre into it. She draped her arms over the bed, holding Hailey’s arms and continuing to cry. Pitre still stood in the doorway, not making a move to come near them.
“This is my fault,” he mumbled and fled the room.
Jackson and Grayson stared at each other for a second, then Grayson asked Mrs. Pitre and Hailey to excuse them, and they set out after him. They caught up with him in the parking lot, laid across the hood of his car, weeping like a baby.
“Mr. Pitre?” Grayson said as they approached. “I know this is hard to deal with. I can’t imagine seeing my daughter that way, but Hailey needs you to be strong for her. She’s doing a fantastic job keeping it together given what she’s endured. You need to pull yourself together and be there for her.”
“I can’t,” Pitre said. “We heard everything she said. The doctor stopped us outside the door so that she could finish telling you what happened. I heard…” He began to choke.
“I heard everything he did,” Pitre continued. “I heard why. It’s all my fault.”
Suddenly, Jackson got a feeling that something else was going on. Something more than what had happened to Hailey. He could tell Grayson was getting frustrated with the man and put his hand on Grayson’s arm before he could speak.