Dark Shadows of the Past

by Angel Sefer

  Going back to the closet to put the box in its place, she heard footsteps and the door to the bedroom opening. She hid in the back of the closet, holding her breath. From the open door of the closet, she saw a nurse passing by. The woman stayed in the room for a few minutes, checking on the patient, and then left, closing the door behind her. Christina waited until she heard the footsteps disappearing down the hall, and then she carefully made her way back to her room, holding the notebook and trying to keep as quiet as possible.

  She kept all the lights out and held her breath when she heard footsteps in the hallway. Whoever it was, he came and stood outside her door for a minute before leaving again. Christina waited motionless for a few minutes and then sat on the bed. She turned the lamp on the bedside table on and glanced at the black notebook in her hands.

  She hesitated briefly but then opened it and started going through the pages. Lists of names, many familiar to her, filled each sheet. Well-known attorneys, politicians, and prominent business people were notated beside dates and locations. From Oliver Maxwell—a tycoon who owned a number of businesses, including a television station and a football team—to William Beavers. Next to the attorney’s name were dates, including the day before his murder. The name Madison and the initials P.C. were also written down. Christina flipped through the rest of the book quickly, but nothing about it made any sense.

  In case she escaped, she decided to keep it to give it to the detective working her case. Nowhere stood out as a good place to hide it, so she slipped it in a shoebox at the bottom of a pile. Reentering the bedroom, she checked the time.

  Feeling physically and emotionally drained, and her courage leaving her, she debated crawling under the covers. No! I can’t do that. I have to find out what’s going on and, somehow, find a way to escape.

  Going to the door, she opened it carefully, walked to the staircase and down the steps to the foyer. For a moment, she hesitated, staring at the front door, wishfully. Then again, the growling of the Dobermans still echoed in her ears. Scanning her surroundings, she saw two corridors leading away from the foyer.

  Staring down one of them, she saw a light on inside a room at the end. She stepped toward it, silent like a ghost. Peeking from the door, she felt a flutter of chills ripple up her spine as she recognized the guy who had found her in the yard. He was sitting behind a desk going through some paperwork. With her heart thundering in her chest, she turned on her heel and headed the other way.

  Walking through the foyer again and down the other corridor, she passed by a living room and a dining room and came to the kitchen. The lights were on, and three men were sitting at the table, drinking whiskey and playing cards. She tiptoed past the door and stood outside another one at the end of the corridor where she could see a dim light from underneath. Holding her breath, just in case she heard any noise, she tried the doorknob. It was unlocked, and turning it, she pushed the door open and saw steps leading downstairs. It leads to the basement, she realized.

  She started descending the narrow staircase, closing the door behind her. Her throat tightened as no matter how hard she tried the wooden steps squeaked every now and then. However, the men in the kitchen were either too busy or too drunk to pay any attention because nobody came. Coming around a corner, she scanned her surroundings and after verifying that there was nobody down there, she climbed down the remaining steps.

  The basement was filled up with crates—big crates piled everywhere. Christina walked closer and read the words Madison and Charleston, S.C. on them. So the crates were from South Carolina, but what about Madison? When she had first read the word in the notebook, she thought it was a name. Now she decided it must be a company.

  What’s in those crates? she wondered curiously. She tried one of them, but the tops were nailed on. Itching to open one of them, she hesitated for a moment, looking around. Finding a pile of tools in a corner, she glanced at a crowbar. That’s probably the dumbest idea I’ve ever had. Realizing that she would never be able to pry one of them open without being heard, she gave up that idea.

  I better get back upstairs before anyone finds out I’m not in my room. Taking a last glance around, she noticed some bottles and boxes on a shelf. Approaching carefully, she read the label on one of the boxes—rat poison. Her breath caught in her throat. No, she contemplated. I couldn’t possibly do that. I have to find another way to get out of here, avoiding the dogs. She stood there hesitating. I’m probably going to be sorry but no, I can’t do it, she decided and walked away.

  Approaching the staircase, she got a glimpse of a crate in the far corner with the top positioned sideways. Someone has left it open, she thought excited. Her pulse accelerated as she stepped closer. Careful, not to move the top at all and cause any noise, she took a peek inside. Coffee grounds! The crate was filled with coffee grounds. What on earth is going on here? Puzzled, she glanced at the crates around her. Are they all filled up with coffee grounds, as well?

  A squeaking noise from upstairs turned her blood to ice. I need to get back! Breathlessly, she climbed the staircase.

  Reaching the ground floor, she carefully inched toward the kitchen, as she could hear muffled voices and moaning. What now? Approaching the kitchen, she took a peek from the halfway opened door. Her breath caught in her throat… The three bullies she had seen before were pushing around the young maid—half naked, and all bruised up—kissing her and slapping her at the same time. The girl was in an awful shape, and blood was dripping from her lips. A jolt of fear shot right through Christina as she saw the crazy look in their drunken eyes.

  “Fuck that bitch!” one of them—a short, bulky man—said in a harsh but low voice, and grabbing the maid by the hair, he slammed her head on the table.

  Christina blinked in disbelief and bit her lower lip to prevent from screaming as the girl’s nose broke, and blood splattered all over the table.

  “I’ll go first,” one of the other two—a filthy looking one—said and unzipped his pants.

  Christina swallowed hard, unable to move. She felt her temper rising, desperately trying to figure out a way to help the girl. What can I do? Think, Christina, think!

  “I have a better idea,” the third bully said. “Why don’t we drag her upstairs to the other bitch’s room and have our way with both of them?”

  Christina went in a state of shock, realizing they were talking about her.

  “Sounds good to me,” the short one said. “Then again…the boss said to stay away from her…at least for now,” he added.

  Christina felt as if she was choking. Frantically, she rushed toward the foyer, looking for something to distract the mobsters, giving the maid a chance to escape. Of course, she risked getting caught again but she couldn’t just walk away.

  Arriving at the foyer, she noticed the crystal vase on the round table in the middle of the room. Without a second thought, she picked it up, slammed it against the wall, and took off, climbing two steps at a time as all hell broke loose downstairs.

  Only after she was back in her bedroom did she let her breath out. She sat on the bed, shaking. Her mouth was dry and her hands cold and damp. Would this nightmare ever end?

  “What the hell is going on here?” A harsh voice barked.

  Jumbled voices mixed with loud noises and female screams kept Christina immobilized.

  “You drunken fools!” The same voice yelled while Christina heard loud footsteps running downstairs. “Take those idiots to the basement and leave them to sleep it off. I’ll deal with them in the morning.”

  Loud noises and the slamming of a door followed his command. And then, nothing… Silence stretched inside the mansion.

  Now what? Christina wondered, staring at the door. Would anyone come for her or did they think that one of the drunken bullies broke the vase? And what about the maid? Did she have enough time to escape? I sure hope so.

  She curled up in her bed, with her back against the headboard, staring at the door, exhausted and terrified of what was com
ing next.

  Chapter Three

  THE SUN WAS SHINING brightly when Christina woke up. She sat up disoriented and scanned her surroundings, trying to get her bearings. A cold wave of fear washed over her as last night’s events came crashing down on her. Taking deep breaths to subside the pain in her chest, she wondered what happened to the girl the night before. Was she still alive? And what about herself? Why were they keeping her here, and what would happen to her? She knew that at any time she could end up a victim of those bullies’ rage and lust, just like the maid.

  Stumbling to the floor, she rushed to the bathroom, feeling her stomach doing flips. After throwing some cold water on her face, she stepped back to the bedroom and collapsed at the edge of the bed. I need to stay strong, she thought determined but couldn’t help but being disappointed for not having found a phone to notify the police, or any way to escape.

  An eerie feeling washed over her, realizing how quiet the house was this morning; she hadn’t heard anyone coming or going so far. Glancing at the clock, she was surprised to see it was twelve-thirty. Something is up. By this time, someone usually had come to bring her something to eat, or at least check up on her.

  She approached the French doors leading to the balcony. No one was in the yard. Stepping outside, she glanced at the woods that started where the grass ended and stretched all the way down the hill.

  Lost in her thoughts, she was abruptly brought back to reality by the fierce barking of the dogs. They appeared from the woods, rushed toward the house, and ran around the corner where she couldn’t see them anymore. I have to try to escape tonight. But how can I manage it with those dogs out there?

  A couple minutes later, two guards sprinted from the woods toward the house. What’s happening? She leaned over the railings as much as she could and tried to take a peek around the corner the guards and dogs had disappeared, but it was useless; she couldn’t see anything.

  All of a sudden, she heard a truck pulling up. Someone is here, she thought and then remembered the young maid telling her that someone was coming soon.

  Whatever happened to that girl? Christina wondered and felt her heart sinking. I hope she’s still alive, she thought, but deep down inside, she doubted it.

  The sound of her bedroom door opening made Christina jump in surprise. Anxiously, she rushed back inside. It wasn’t the usual maid who brought her the tray. This time it was a man—a scary, muscular man who had a gun strapped to his side. He laid the tray heavily on the table, and his eyes scanned the room and then rested on Christina intensely.

  Christina stayed as far away from him as she could, too scared to even breathe. Her heart skipped a beat as he looked at her straight in the eyes. Christina tried to avoid making eye contact until she heard him inhaling deeply and glanced at him, uneasily. A jolt of fear shot through her as she saw him staring at her breasts. Oh, no! She bit her lower lip in agony. All she needed was to be sexually assaulted by this mobster. Instinctively, she raised her hand and pulled her shirt closed all the way to her throat.

  As the man took another step closer, Christina frantically scanned around for a way out. But there was nowhere to go… Feeling shaky inside, she retreated until her back was against the wall.

  She stared at him with eyes wide open from fear and swallowed hard, unable to move or speak. Seeing his big, hairy hand reaching for her, she almost fainted. She shut her eyes tightly and drew a sharp intake of breath. Feeling his hand grabbing the locket hanging just above her bust, her eyes flew open, and she stared at him, astonished.

  “Where did you get this?” he asked in a deep voice with a thick Italian accent, peering at Christina strangely.

  Christina swallowed hard as a warning bell went off inside her head. Be careful, she cautioned herself.

  “I found it in a pawn shop,” she whispered and as soon as she said it, she wanted to take it back. If he knew something, he would want more details now.

  “Where?” he asked firmly.

  “I told you, in a pawn shop,” she repeated and tried to hide how nervous she was.

  “Where is that pawn shop?” he insisted, searching her face closely.

  “In New York,” Christina lied, trying to cover her tracks.

  The man stared at her for a couple minutes, which seemed like an eternity.

  Christina could tell he wasn’t satisfied with her answer. He was about to ask something else when a loud noise from downstairs drew his attention.

  A moment later, another man showed up at her door. “Roberto! Come on!” the man yelled, giving Christina a sharp look.

  Roberto glanced at the other one standing by the door and then at Christina. He hesitated for a moment before turning around and leaving the room.

  Christina drew a deep breath and rushed to the table. With shaky hands, she lifted the cup of coffee and drunk a couple of sips. Then, she lifted the locket and looked at it. Oh, no! She was wearing it with the crest up front. What the hell? she wondered, and then remembered that the nurse at the hospital brought her the locket and helped her put it on.

  A flutter of chills rippled up her spine, thinking that the man seemed to have recognized the crest on the locket. Oh! God! Where am I? Could it be that I’ve fallen into the hands of the same people I’ve been trying my whole life to hide from? Please help me! she prayed silently.

  She drank the rest of her coffee and drew some deep breaths, letting them out slowly. When her hands stopped shaking, she walked back out on the balcony. A lot of commotion and conversations were coming from the front of the house, but due to the fact that her balcony was in the back, she couldn’t hear clearly what they were saying or see anything. Something is happening for sure. I have to find a way out of here as soon as possible!

  She thought of Detective Mallory and wondered what he might be doing right now. She was sure he was searching for her, but there was no way she could let him know where she was. If only I had found a phone. No phones were in the bedrooms she had checked the night before, but what about the office downstairs? There must be a phone there.

  The more she thought about it, the more she realized it was worth a try. Tonight, she would go downstairs and see if she could make her way to the office and call Mallory. However, how can I tell them where I am when I don’t even know myself? Realizing the police could trace the phone call and find her, she relaxed again. I’ll make it, somehow! she promised herself. She wasn’t about to give up.

  ***

  When the sun set, she felt very edgy. The noises had calmed down in the last couple of hours, and all was quiet now. Though she wouldn’t try anything until midnight, she remained on edge.

  The sound of the door opening caught her off guard.

  The same mobster from that morning appeared at the door. “Come on!” he said in a harsh voice. “We’re leaving.”

  Christina stared at him in despair. Leaving…leaving for where? she wanted to cry out but instead kept her mouth shut.

  The man didn’t seem willing to move unless she came with him.

  “I need to put some shoes on,” she mumbled and rushed to the closet. She grabbed the notebook and hid it underneath her shirt. With the boots in her hand, she walked back to the bedroom.

  Without a word, she put on the boots and followed him. He took her downstairs and out to the front yard. She glanced around and saw the truck she had heard earlier parked on the side. The two guards from the yard were standing next to it, talking to a third man, while the dogs were lying at their feet. Two other cars and a black limousine were also in the driveway.

  The mobster pulled her toward one of the cars and pushed her in the back seat. He climbed inside next to her and waited. A few minutes later, Christina saw some more thugs coming out of the house. Finally, the dark-haired one who found her in the yard came outside accompanied by an older man dressed in a gray suit, and they walked toward the limo.

  Christina stared at the older one and felt her heart stop. Shrinking back in fear, she wished she could become in
visible. However, she didn’t have to worry. The old man didn’t even glance toward her direction. It was the younger one who turned and stared toward the car Christina was in. Even though the car had tinted windows, Christina could swear he stared her straight in the eyes… And what she saw in those gray eyes of his scared her to death.

  I have to stop letting my imagination run free. They couldn’t possibly know anything about me. How could they? If they did, I would be dead by now…

  She took a glimpse at the guy named Roberto next to her. What about him? she wondered, recalling the look in his eyes when he saw the locket. Christina was almost sure he’d recognized it and was puzzled by his behavior. If he did, why didn’t he say anything to anybody? Or maybe he did say something? How could she be so sure?

  She glanced at the two men approaching the limo. What if they knew? She turned her eyes to Roberto, who was watching the others, not paying any attention to her.

  The two men climbed into the limo with two bodyguards and the driver. Other men got in the other car, and the guards climbed in the back of the truck along with the dogs. The two bullies came to the car that Christina and Roberto were in.

  A whole army, she thought desperately, thinking that her chance to escape was almost nonexistent.

  The other car left first, followed by the limo, then the truck. The last one to leave was the car Christina was in. Darkness stretched, and she couldn’t see much, but it seemed that the driveway was twisting and turning through the woods. After a few minutes, they came to a gate with an armed guard on duty. He opened the gate and let them through. They turned onto a country road running parallel to the tall cement wall surrounding the property.