Prey for Us

by Geoffrey Neil

  “Go to hell!” Thane yelled.

  Morana watched the exchange and then tapped the block with her hand. “Thane I need you to close this opening right away.”

  “Who’s that?” Waylon shouted. “Who’s the woman? Hey, lady, I’m injured. You need to call the police, or you’ll make a fine accessory to kidnapping.”

  “Thane, close this now!” Morana said.

  Thane hurried to the opposite side of the block, squatted and shoved it. As the narrow opening closed, Waylon shouted, “You’re gonna pay for this you scrawny nigger.” The block sealed the opening muting him.

  “Charming,” Morana said. She stood and crossed her arms.

  Thane stood and brushed some dust from his knees. “Why did you want me to close the shaft so quickly?”

  “Did Waylon have a phone?” she asked.

  Thane looked puzzled. “I assume he does.”

  “Could Waylon have used his phone after you trapped him and before you sealed the shaft?”

  “I—don’t think so. I was afraid Mrs. Perkins would hear him yelling, so I covered the shaft. It took twenty, maybe thirty seconds. During that time, he was yelling at me so he couldn’t have been texting.”

  “So, you lifted and moved your work block across the garage and sealed the shaft in 30 seconds?”

  “Yes, probably less.”

  “We should assume he tried to place a call or send a text after he was trapped. If he succeeded, it’s possible he could already have help on the way.”

  Thane said, “No, there’s no way any mobile frequency could penetrate this rock.” He patted the top of the block.

  “We just opened the shaft a few moments ago.”

  “An aperture of that size,” he held up his fingers, “couldn’t possibly allow sufficient signal for transmission.” Thane sounded more like he was trying to persuade himself.

  Morana winced and said, “If he tried to send a text message, a small opening might have been all it needed to transmit.”

  “I still disagree.”

  “Fine, then there’s a bigger issue. Now that you’ve trapped him, what do you plan to do with him?”

  “I don’t know. I was only trying to defend myself. It happened so quickly. I didn’t know what to do so I called you.”

  “What do you want to happen to him?”

  “I want him punished.”

  “We can do that.”

  “What do you mean by we? I meant turn him in to the authorities for trespassing and attempting to assault me.”

  “You would bring the police into your garage?”

  “No, not here. I want you to help me take him out and deliver him to the police from the house.”

  Morana looked up and sighed. “Sweetheart, that won’t work. If you turn him in, he’ll make good on every charge that he just promised to have filed against you.”

  “But he’s at fault here! He assaulted me. I was defending myself! He isn’t hurt.”

  “That won’t be his story. It is illegal to use a trap floor as a defense against trespassers.”

  “I didn’t build it for that purpose. The trap floor is how I extract the larger blocks from the sub-lair. When he chased me, I panicked. It was all I could do.”

  “You and I know that’s true, and he knows that’s true. But he also knows the law, and he will use it as a weapon against you. He’ll claim injury from assault and battery by you. And to support this claim, all he needs is expert testimony from one or more of his sleaze-bag physician his firm uses in their injury cases.”

  “No, that can’t happen!” Thane shouted. “You see? He’s bullying me again.” Thane kicked the block.

  “You know what fixes all of this?”

  “Please tell me.”

  “Confirming that he was unable to send a text message after you dropped him.”

  “Why does that fix it?”

  “Because it removes any need for us to hurry. It removes the chance that anyone is on their way. It gives us a world of options.”

  “Then we have to get his phone,” Thane said, scratching his neck.

  Morana said, “The problem is that even if a text message didn’t transmit before he was sealed in, that message will surely transmit the moment we open the shaft. We need him to turn the phone off and to give it to us before we let him out.”

  “But he’ll never agree to that.”

  “It might be easier than you think,” Morana said. “Wait here.” Morana went to the garage door, leaned out and looked around. She went around the side where she found a looped garden hose hanging from its spigot. She unwrapped it and pulled the hose around the corner and back into the garage where Thane waited.

  “What are you doing?” he asked as she snapped the hose to uncoil a kink.

  “Encouraging him to give up his phone.”

  “You can’t do that!” Thane said.

  “You said a small crack won’t allow him to get a signal. Move the block to give me a half-inch opening to the shaft.”

  “We can’t do that,” Thane said.

  “Listen, Waylon’s desperation to avoid drowning is greater than our desperation to get his phone. He’ll give up the phone before the water reaches his ankles. I promise this won’t add to the charges he’s threatened.”

  “It isn’t about the charges. There’s no drainage at the base of this shaft. You’ll flood the sub-lair.”

  “What about the aquifer? Won’t that prevent flooding?”

  Thane said, “I haven’t quarried ducts to the aquifer, and I don’t have a sump pump.” He took the hose from her.

  Morana put her hands on her hips. “I don’t expect to need more than a few gallons to get him to comply—nothing a mop won’t clean.”

  “No, no, no!” Thane said. He dragged the hose back outside. “Flooding the shaft is not an option.”

  “Okay, okay. No water.” Morana raised her hands to calm him.

  They came back into the garage. Thane closed and locked the large roll-up door.

  Morana sat on the work block and crossed her legs. “Then the best option is to do nothing. We wait for his phone battery to die.”

  “But that could take a day or more.”

  “So?”

  “You mean we just leave him in there?” Thane pointed.

  “What concerns you about that?” She hopped off the block. “Are you afraid you will offend him?”

  Thane nibbled his lip and swept his foot back and forth on the floor.

  “Think about it,” Morana said, “if he somehow got a text off, and someone shows up, we simply turn them away.”

  “What if it’s the police?”

  “Okay, suppose he dialed 911, and they trace his call to this location. The police might show up, but what will they find?” Morana opened her arms and pivoted, looking around the shop. “Waylon could be shouting at the top of his lungs right now, and we hear nothing. The masterful job you’ve done concealing your work within a normal-looking garage is incredible. Anyone looking will search for Waylon will see that he is not here. They’ll have no clue that you can move that block so easily. Say nothing, and any visitors will know nothing.”

  Thane said, “I don’t want visitors. I don’t want to risk making this situation worse.”

  “And you won’t—as long as we wait for the appropriate time to remove him from the shaft.” She came closer to Thane and said softly, “You shared with me some horrific stories about how he victimized you. For the first time since you were children, the power dynamic between you and Waylon has been completely reversed. It’s also the first time you can be certain that he cannot harm you. He’s obviously not hurt and forcing him to wait a while longer won’t do any more damage than he’ll already claim he’s suffered. How many times did he restrict your movement, or force you to endure situations you didn’t want to be in? Or to do things you didn’t want to do? How much of your time has he wasted over the years? When I think of
what he’s done to you, I have no problem waiting for that battery to die.” She cupped his cheek in her hand. “And if he suffers from fear and boredom down there, I hope it begins with a fully charged battery.”

  Thane strolled to the opposite side of the garage, thinking. When he came back, he rested his hands on the block, drumming his fingers. “There may be another way. I need you to step outside.”

  “What are you thinking?” Morana asked.

  “I have an idea. I’m going to access him from below. That way it won’t matter if his phone is on or not.”

  “I need to go with you.”

  “No. It won’t take long—I’ll be safe.”

  “Thane, listen to me. If he somehow gets loose from you below, he’ll kill you.”

  “That would be suicidal for him. He’ll never get out. I’ll make sure he knows it.”

  “Just take me with you. I’ll have him begging you to take his phone.”

  Thane shook his head. “There’s no way I would give him the opportunity to harm me. Please wait for me outside.”

  “I just saw you move this work block. Can’t I watch you move the Gateway block?”

  “No!” Thane snapped. He pointed to the door. “You can wait in the house if you want to. If anyone shows up, please don’t let them come back here. If I can’t get the phone from him, I’ll take you down to help me get it.”

  Morana went to the door, but before she could reach for the knob, a firm knock on it echoed throughout the garage.

  “Please, God, no,” Thane said.

  Morana peeked through the crack at the edge of the paper that covered the window. She stepped back from the door and looked at Thane. “It’s the police.”

  Chapter 17

  THE UNIFORMED OFFICERS standing outside the garage door knocked again, harder.

  Thane stared at the door, frozen with his mouth open.

  “Do not panic,” Morana said.

  “You can’t let them in,” Thane said.

  “We have to.”

  “I don’t want to lose everything!” Thane’s face went flush.

  “You won’t,” Morana said. She went to him, grabbed his shoulders and then pointed to the work block that concealed Waylon in the shaft. “Listen to me... Waylon is screaming at the top of his lungs at this very moment, right?”

  “Probably,” Thane said.

  “And we hear nothing. The police won’t either.”

  “But what if they know he’s here and they want to search my shop?”

  A louder knock on the door echoed.

  “Why wouldn’t we let them? They sure as hell won’t find him. And keep in mind, they don’t have a right to search without a warrant, and they couldn’t have gotten one so quickly. Concentrate on feeling surprised and confused about anything they ask. Do you understand?”

  Thane nodded, backing away from the door.

  “Come closer,” Morana motioned to him. “It will be okay. I’ll do as much of the talking as possible.”

  Although she hid it from Thane, Morana’s angst about opening the door matched his, but for a different reason. She had transformed her facial appearance so that it was unlike any of the photos of her shown in the media. But suddenly the disguise felt inadequate for a face-to-face conversation with the police. Several options for a quick escape if things went wrong raced through her mind. She opened the door wide enough for part of her face.

  The officers stepped closer, one of them casually resting his hand on his holstered gun.

  “Can I help you, officers?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Are you the resident here?”

  “One of them,” Morana said. She opened the door a little wider.

  The officer exchanged a glance with his partner. “We rang the bell at the house. No one answered.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “We’re doing an investigation, and we want to ask you a few questions.”

  She heard a creak behind her. She looked back at Thane, who had taken a seat in a chair and shook his head with his face buried in his hands. “I suppose that would be okay. What are you investigating?”

  “Mind if we come in?”

  Morana stepped back and opened the door fully. She caught Thane’s eye and winked.

  As the officers came inside, Morana hoped that the dimness of the garage interior would work in her favor.

  “Afternoon, partner,” the first officer said to Thane.

  “He’s… my boyfriend,” Morana said.

  The second officer glanced at Thane, and then his eyes swept Morana from feet to face as he passed by her. They took positions apart from one another on the inside front wall of the garage, looking around the space.

  Thane took a couple of deep breaths as quietly as he could. Morana went to him and gently squeezed his shoulder. “Can you tell us what this is about?” she asked.

  “We’re investigating a homicide.”

  “Oh, my God!” Morana said, covering her mouth.

  Thane frowned, looking back and forth between the officer and Morana.

  “What? Where?” Morana said.

  “Your neighbor to the rear of your property.”

  “Can you tell us what happened?” Morana asked.

  The second officer said. “Not yet. CSI is still finishing up their work. We need to know if you saw or heard anything suspicious coming from that property during the last 48 hours.”

  “No, not that I can think of,” Morana said. She looked at Thane.

  He said, “I haven’t seen Mrs. Perkins for a few days.”

  “So, you did know her?” an officer asked.

  Morana smiled to conceal her gritted teeth.

  “Not well at all,” Thane said.

  The other officer said, “Can you tell us if you’ve observed any unusual activity on her property or visitors she may have had—especially anyone unfamiliar?”

  Thane opened his mouth to speak, but Morana interjected, “Not recently. I can count the times on one hand that we’ve ever spoken face-to-face. I do know she loves her flowers and once gave us a delightful tour of her beautiful African lily garden.”

  Thane nodded to confirm, looking wide-eyed at the officer.

  “Have you both been in town the last couple of days?”

  Thane wrung his hands.

  Morana answered, “Yes, we’ve been here, we spend most of our time working right here in my boyfriend’s shop. I haven’t seen or heard anything, have you, honey?”

  “No,” Thane replied, but the word came out more like a grunt.

  One of the officers motioned to his partner to follow him to the door. “We’re canvassing all the neighbors to gather any other leads. If you do see or hear anything that could contribute to our investigation, we’d appreciate it if you’d call us.”

  “Absolutely,” Morana said. “This is all so unnerving.” She covered her face with her hands. “That poor, poor woman.”

  “We’re sorry to have to give you this news,” the officer said.

  “Thank you for stopping by,” Morana said. “We’re so grateful for the job you do, and we hope to see more of a presence from you in our neighborhood.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Morana feigned a shiver, rubbed her arms, and said, “I just can’t believe it.”

  The officers went outside and walked down the driveway to the front of the house.

  Morana came to the doorway and watched them walk out of sight. She turned to find Thane standing right beside her.

  “I thought they were here for Waylon,” he said.

  “Me too,” Morana said, taking a deep breath.

  “That was amazing,” Thane said.

  “What?”

  “The way you directed them. I thought they were going to ask questions that would lead to Waylon, but you kept them from doing that.”

  “You played an important part by remaining calm, so we work well as a team. If you had panicked, it would’ve been imp
ossible to have kept their visit as short as it was. It’s too bad about Mrs. Perkins, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, I wonder what happened to her,” Thane said, looking up as he contemplated it. After a moment, he said, “I should feel worse than I do about her death, but she was so mean. I hate to say this, but people who are that mean sometimes end up being mean to the wrong person.”

  “So true. You better hurry with whatever you’re going to do.” Morana pointed to the work block.

  “Shouldn’t I wait for a while to make sure the officers don’t come back?”

  “If they try to come back, I’ll intercept them. Just be as quick as you can.” She went into the garage and picked up her bag.

  “I will. My plan will take me between ten and fifteen minutes. You wait over there,” Thane said, pointing toward the rear of the house. “Watch for my signal to come back.”

  “Got it,” Morana said. She stepped outside, and Thane closed himself inside the garage.

  As Morana walked toward the house, she slowed and looked back when the large garage slid up to ankle height behind her. A red brick slid out, propping it. Thane then flung talcum powder along the edge of the open garage door and smeared it with his hand.

  She had to smile. Thane’s trespassing detector was primitive, yet so effective.

  She waited at the back door of the house for a couple of minutes, watching the garage for any other activity, but she saw and heard nothing. She crept back to the propped open garage door and squatted “Thane?” she called out.

  No answer.

  She knelt and looked under. “Thane?”

  Still no answer.

  If Thane had descended to the sub-lair, it would be safe to go into the garage for a quick look around. She put her face near the ground to look inside. A thin haze of talcum powder hung in the air. The entire foundation of the shop was intact, and it seemed impossible that Thane could have raised the Gateway block, descended and resealed it in such a short time.

  She tried to raise the door, but it was locked in the place where the brick had propped it. She went to the entry door. It was unlocked. She opened it and peered inside.

  She began to walk across the garage toward Thane’s workbench, holding her breath. There was no way for her to reach the countertop without passing over the sealed Gateway block. She knew that at any moment it could lift. She ran across the Gateway block, grabbed Thane’s pen holder and quickly swapped a black pen with an identical pen that contained a micro video camera. She looked at the roll-up door that rested on the brick and saw a padlock Thane had fastened through the metal railing on its edge to lock it in place.