HER FINAL WORD (JACK RYDER Book 6)

by Willow Rose

  The girl looked down at Dylan, who was still crying, then lifted her foot and gave him a deep kick in the stomach before she took off, Dylan wailing behind her.

  "Gabrielle. I’m coming with you," she yelled. "Wait for me!"

  "No!" Carla yelled. She turned her head toward the girl, her nostrils flaring, then reached out and grabbed the girl's hand. Carla shook her head violently. "I’m not letting you do this. You're staying here; you hear me?"

  "No," the girl said. "I want to go with her. I want to go away and find my parents."

  Carla kept shaking her head, holding onto the girl's hand, showing incredible strength. The girl fought with all she had to get loose, but by the time Carla finally let go of her hand, Gabrielle was long gone. The girl stared in the direction where she had disappeared, a tear escaping her eye and rolling down her cheek.

  "Why would you do that?" the girl cried.

  "You be happy now. I just saved your life," Carla said. Carla's hand then grabbed her shoulder and pulled her.

  "Come on," Carla said. "Grab the boy. We need to get home."

  17

  Lyford Cay, Bahamas, October 2018

  They were inseparable. I hated to have to split them apart, but after two hours, I felt like we were overstaying our welcome and I began preparing myself to tell Emily it was time to go back to the hotel.

  The housekeeper, Rosie, stood in the doorway of the living room, constantly staring at me, and I was getting quite uncomfortable. I got the feeling she didn't like us being there. Or maybe she wanted to talk to me but didn't dare to. I couldn't quite figure it out. Just like I couldn't figure out why I felt so uncomfortable in her presence. Maybe it was the concept of housekeepers or the fact that she was black, and I felt like some colonist from back in the day. But as her eyes had lingered on me for long enough, I finally got up. I nodded politely to Rosie, who didn't react even though our eyes met, then walked outside through the sliding doors.

  I found the girls sitting on a porch swing by one of the pools, chatting and laughing. I had to stop and listen for a few seconds, enjoying every second of seeing my daughter happy.

  "It's time to go," I finally said, approaching them on the swing.

  Emily gave me a sad look. "Really?"

  "Yes."

  Emily gave Sydney a big hug and then handed her one of her necklaces that she always wore. Sydney took it, then hugged her again.

  Back in the car, we approached the security guard at the gate. Emily was very quiet as we drove back onto the big road outside of the massive walls. She had her head turned away from me, watching the scenery as we drove by it. It was quite beautiful with the turquoise water on one side of us, but I hardly noticed. I wanted to ask Emily about Sydney and what they talked about, but I didn't want to pry or risk saying something that made her sad. So instead, we ended up driving back to Nassau in silence.

  It wasn't until I drove up in front of the hotel and parked that she finally opened up to me. It wasn't at all what I had expected to come out of her mouth.

  "She didn't do it."

  I looked at Emily, surprised. "What?"

  Emily's eyes met mine. There was a deep sadness in hers.

  "Her mom. She didn't do it."

  I shook my head. "Sofia?"

  "Yes, Sofia. She didn't kill Ella Maria."

  I exhaled. "Emily. Of course, her daughter will say that her mom is innocent."

  Emily shook her head. "No. It's true. She didn't do it. I believe her. She told me she couldn't have killed her."

  "How? Does she have any evidence?" I asked.

  Emily shook her head. "I don't know. But I believe her, Dad, I really do."

  I swallowed, hard. Dad. Emily was suddenly calling me dad. She grabbed my arm with both of her bony hands.

  "Without her mother, Sydney has no one. You have to help them. You're the only one who can."

  "But, Emily…there is no way I can…"

  "Yes, you can. You're the only one who can."

  "Emily. We're in a different country. I have no jurisdiction here. I have no right to…"

  "If you were a private investigator, you could, couldn't you? I know you can't make any arrests or anything like that, but you can investigate. No one can prevent you from doing that, can they?"

  I sighed and rubbed my forehead. The girl was right. No one could stop me if I wanted to investigate.

  "Please, Dad? Please?" she asked, her eyes pleading with me. "We still have a week and a half here and nothing else to do."

  I closed my eyes and then opened them again.

  "I guess I could look into it."

  18

  Bahamas, October 2018

  Nancy was sitting on the beach when her boyfriend, Billy, came up to her and placed a wet kiss on her lips. He was still in his trunks, and his hair was wet. Nancy closed her eyes and enjoyed the kiss, wondering if it had all been a dream, a nightmare. The stomach bug, the restroom, the car, and the strange room with no windows or doors.

  When she opened her eyes again, she looked into another set of eyes, but they weren’t Billy's.

  Nancy screamed and sat up, realizing she was back in the room. The person in front of her grinned from ear to ear.

  "W-who are you?" Nancy gasped and sat up.

  "Does it matter?" the person asked, leaning forward and almost whispering the words into her face.

  "W-where am I? Why are you keeping me here?"

  The person reached out a hand and started to caress Nancy's cheek. The gesture made Nancy's blood freeze.

  "Such a pretty girl. I did well in choosing you. You're gonna be so beautiful on all the newspaper covers."

  Nancy pulled back. "Let me out of here."

  The person shook their head, then reached out a hand and grabbed Nancy's throat and started to press. Nancy gasped for air while the person, with a smile, held her throat until she was almost out of air before letting go. Nancy sank to the floor, coughing and gasping, then crawled backward, almost crabbing her way across the carpet. She then stood to her feet and stumbled away from the strange creature, falling once, then getting up again, staggering toward the wall, searching for a place to hide, but finding nothing, not even a closet. There was a restroom at one end of the room, but that had no doors or windows either. No escape.

  Like a spider, the figure jumped down in front of her, stretching out their arms, laughing, reaching out, almost grabbing her, but missing as she lunged to the side, then ran to the other wall across the room.

  The person chuckled. "You do realize there is nowhere to run, right?"

  Nancy answered with a whimper. Panic was spreading inside her. The look in the person's eyes terrified her. The person approached her. Nancy stared around her, still looking for a way out. There had to be one, right? There was a way in. The person had entered somehow while she slept.

  "There's nowhere you can hide, nowhere you can run, pretty girl," the person said.

  "Please…let me go," Nancy pleaded, even though she knew it was useless.

  As the figure leaped for her again, Nancy ran to another wall, gasping for air, but as she passed the person, she felt a hand reach out and grab hers, then pull her back forcefully. Nancy screamed as she flew through the air and landed on the floor, knocking her head into the tiles. When she opened her eyes again, the person was hovering above her, then lifted a fist into the air and slammed it into her face over and over again until she tasted her own blood.

  Part II

  19

  Nassau, Bahamas, October 2018

  "I’m just asking to take a look at it."

  I smiled. The man sitting in front of me was scrutinizing me.

  "And I’m just asking why you need to take a look. This case is closed. Killer was found. We haven't asked for your help. We haven't asked for American help with this case."

  I sighed and leaned back in the worn-out chair where they had told me to sit. The man behind the desk was Commissioner Maycock. He was looking at me like I was a child that
he was scolding. Behind him hung a sign showing an emblem reading ROYAL BAHAMAS POLICE FORCE with a small crown on top.

  "We don't want any trouble," he said.

  "I know," I said. "But the girl was American. I would like to take a look at her autopsy report, please."

  Commissioner Maycock exhaled and leaned back in his old creaking chair. Everything at the police station seemed so old and in dire need of renovation. The only thing that seemed impeccable were their uniforms. The Commissioner was in a beige one that was perfectly ironed. He had a tie underneath the buttoned-up jacket and was wearing an old-fashioned stiff hat with a red ribbon. He didn't look very comfortable or even practical if he needed to run after a suspect, but he looked very presentable, I had to admit. The man in front of me carried many medals on his chest, and I knew he was important.

  "We don't want any trouble," he repeated like he didn't believe I had heard him the first time.

  I nodded. "I know. I just want to take a look."

  "Case is closed. The murderer is in jail. Everything is in order. We can move on now," he said.

  I smiled. "Yes, and that is all very good police work, I’m sure. I just…well, I have another case that is similar to this one," I lied. "And there are some details I would like to take a look at if you don't mind."

  The little white lie seemed to do the trick. I was now asking the man for his expertise and not judging him to find fault. It made the commissioner thaw and even smile.

  "Well, yes, of course."

  The big man behind the small desk leaned forward and stretched out his hand toward me. We shook, and he handed me the report, just as one of his deputies came rushing toward him, a round hat in his hand tugged neatly into the side of his uniform. There was an almost military precision to the way he acted that didn't quite fit in with anything else around us.

  "Sir, we have an issue."

  "What is it, Corporal?"

  The corporal changed his position and leaned forward, bending down toward the commissioner. He was sweating heavily.

  "Someone is here. Filing a missing person's report. For a teenager."

  The commissioner looked up at the corporal. "A missing teenager?"

  The corporal nodded. "Yes, sir. She is missing from the cruise ship. Parents are American."

  The commissioner let out a deep exhale. "Not again. Have they searched the entire ship?"

  The corporal nodded, wiping off sweat with the back of his hand. "She's been missing since last night. The parents say she went onshore with two friends to go shopping and that she disappeared at the Straw Market. She was last seen walking into a restroom. No one's seen her since."

  "And she's American, huh?" The commissioner looked at the corporal, who nodded. Then his eyes landed on me. "Looks like we’ll be needing your assistance after all, Detective Ryder."

  20

  Nassau, Bahamas, October 2018

  There was a lot of commotion at the front desk. I could hear voices yelling at one another and recognized the worry and anxiety in the voice of the man I assumed was the father of the missing girl.

  The commissioner walked out, and I followed closely behind. "Mr. and Mrs. Elkington," he said and reached out his hands toward them. His corporal had told him their names on their way out, and I noticed it brought comfort to the parents that he at least knew who they were. This wasn't his first time dealing with parents who had lost their child when vacationing in Nassau.

  "I am Commissioner Maycock. My corporal here tells me your daughter is missing?"

  Mr. Elkington looked at us with flustered eyes. His wife was standing one step behind him, her face torn in anguish.

  "We've looked everywhere," he said and glanced quickly back at his wife like he wanted her to confirm. She nodded in agreement, and he continued. "Sh-she went with her friends to the market to buy…"

  "A shirt for her boyfriend," Mrs. Elkington took over. Her cheeks were blushing in agitation. "They ate at the Hard Rock Café, then went to the market afterward. That's where she disappeared. She never came back to the ship with the others."

  Mrs. Elkington squirmed when saying the last part, leaning forward like her stomach was cramping.

  "We've been everywhere, talked to everyone, but no one seems to care," Mr. Elkington took over. "All they keep telling us is that she'll show up eventually and that it happens all the time."

  "It does," the commissioner said. "People get lost, or they stay out partying with people they met. Sometimes, they're sleeping somewhere. With men they've met. We even had one girl who went missing, and we searched all over for her, but she turned out to still be on the ship sleeping in a guy's cabin. They were so drunk they had slept through the entire ordeal."

  Mr. Elkington stepped forward, his cheeks blushing. "I don't care if it happens often. These people are not my daughter. Nancy would never do anything like that."

  "That's what all parents say," the commissioner said.

  "Our daughter is missing," Mrs. Elkington said. "Why won't you take it seriously? Our ship leaves tonight. We need to find her."

  The commissioner nodded. "I know. And to show you that we do take this very seriously, we have called in special assistance today." He turned and looked at me, then signaled for me to step forward. "Detective Jack Ryder from Florida is here to assist you and find your daughter, isn't that right, Detective?"

  I felt confused. Two sets of very hopeful yet anxious eyes were fixated on me. I thought about Emily, who I had left back at the hotel. How was she going to feel about this? I was, after all, on this vacation to help her and be with her, not to work. But still. How could I refuse to help those poor parents in their time of need? That wasn't something I was very likely to do. I felt slightly ambushed, but that wasn't the parents’ fault. They just needed all the help they could get right now, and apparently, I was it.

  I nodded and stepped toward them, reaching out my hand.

  "Yes, that's correct. I'll help you look for your daughter."

  21

  Nassau, Bahamas, October 2018

  I called Emily from the car and filled her in on the details. She wasn't too fond of the idea of me being dragged into a case while we were supposed to spend time together, and while I was supposed to focus on helping Sofia, but I think she understood.

  "She probably just wandered off, and we'll find her in a couple of hours," I said to her, trying to sound reassuring. "Meanwhile, keep digging into those articles we found. See if anything stands out; make a note of anything that comes off as strange to you."

  "Okay," she said just as I stopped the car in front of the Straw Market and we hung up.

  I put the phone in my pocket, then got out and met with the Elkingtons outside the entrance. They were with an officer from the Royal Bahamian Police, who had driven them there from the station. We walked inside, and I was immediately overwhelmed. So many colors, so many people, and so much noise. Every little stand was packed with so many things you could buy, funny cups, hand-carved souvenirs, hats, scarves, and T-shirts. So many bags and small trinkets, I became almost exhausted just trying to find my way through.

  I followed the Elkingtons across the market, zigzagging our way through the crowds of people, going toward the restroom where Nancy had last been seen by her friend Maria.

  Her parents stopped outside. The mother opened the door and peeked in, then nodded to me.

  "It's okay. There's no one in there. You can go in."

  I walked past her into the restroom and closed the door behind me. I opened the first stall and looked inside while holding a hand to my mouth and nose to shield myself from the terrible stench. You had to really need to go in order to use this restroom, in my opinion. But that fitted well with the description they had given me. Nancy's friend Maria had told the parents that Nancy felt sick to her stomach and that she had rushed to the restroom. That was why she had left the others, even though her parents had told them always to stick together, no matter what. But when you had to go, you had to go.


  I opened the second stall, and it smelled even worse than the first. I used my sleeve to cover my mouth and nose while peeking in. The toilets were old and looked rusty. There was no seat on any of the bowls. I turned to walk away when I noticed something was wrong with the door to the stall. The door couldn't close properly and seemed to have taken a blow to it. Plus, there was something else. Scratch marks on the bottom of it. Like nails had been digging into the paint. Like someone had tried to hold on.

  Because she was being dragged away.

  I shook the thought, then knelt by the door. I looked at the floor beneath the door and spotted three drops of blood that had dried up on the tiles. I looked around, then spotted the trash can next to the sink. I walked to it and looked inside, then using two fingers, pulled out a purse from underneath used tissue paper and banana peels.

  The door opened behind me, and Mrs. Elkington came in.

  "You find anything?"

  "Guess it's to our advantage that they don't clean this place very often," I said out loud, then turned around and showed her the purse.

  "Does this belong to your daughter, by any chance?"

  Mrs. Elkington didn't have to answer. Her sudden pallor and the hand clasped to her chest were more than enough.

  22

  Bahamas, July 1983

  It didn't take long before it was discovered that Gabrielle had run away. It was maybe two hours after they had returned from the playground when The White Lady started to ask questions. She started with Carla, whom she confronted in the kitchen.

  "Where is she?"