The Girl In The Sand

by L. T. Vargus

“Get ready?”

  “You can’t get out, but you know he’s coming back. So get ready for it.”

  Emily squirms a little. Feet fidgeting beneath her. She still doesn’t understand.

  “How?”

  “You need a weapon.”

  A weapon? Yes. A weapon.

  Right away her eyes fall on the upturned desk. Those steel legs sticking straight out of it.

  Chapter 28

  Darger’s hands fidgeted at the steering wheel. She felt the vibration of the road in her seat, shimmying faintly in the small of her back. She licked her lips, tried to think of something to say, but nothing came.

  Her eyes snapped to the rearview mirror, to the girl in the back seat reflected there.

  Nicole. That was the girl’s name, the escort Darger had been paired with. She had full lips and pale green eyes the color of an old glass Coke bottle.

  Right now, tonight, Leonard Stump was out there setting up his next abduction. The odds that Nicole would be the one he called upon were slim, Darger knew, and yet it remained possible. It would happen to one of them, after all — a real live girl would be plucked from her life if their efforts failed.

  It was hard for Darger to fathom what was happening here, to fully digest the sequence of unfolding events. When they arrived at their next destination, this girl sitting in the back seat would get out of the car and head into a hotel room to have sex for money. Darger would await her return, and then they’d repeat the process.

  Nothing about this scenario seemed real, seemed like something possible in the world Darger lived in, and yet, for Nicole, this would be a routine evening of work. Apart from the FBI escort, anyway. It was a lot to try to process.

  Again, Darger grasped after something — anything — to say, but her mind remained blank, void of content apart from self-consciousness.

  She’d been chauffeuring Nicole for twenty minutes now, and after greeting each other, they’d barely spoken. The uncomfortable silence had only gained strength in that time. Awkward. Tense.

  To her credit, Nicole seemed undisturbed by the quiet. She hunched over her phone, thumbs twiddling away at the screen.

  Still, Darger felt bad about the stiffness of the scene, felt responsible in some vague way. She should be making this girl comfortable, chattering out small talk to put her at ease. She’d be happy to do just that, but no breezy dialogue sprang to mind. Nothing did, and the harder she tried to think of something to say, the deeper she sank into an awkward panic.

  Just then Nicole’s eyes met hers in the mirror, and Darger jumped a little. Startled.

  “So… what do I call you? Agent or miss or—”

  “How about just Violet?”

  The corner of Nicole’s mouth quirked up, amused.

  “OK, Just Violet.”

  “Right. Should have seen that coming.”

  Nicole leaned forward, her head jutting into the front seat area.

  “Can I ask you something kind of personal?”

  Darger smiled, felt the muscles in her shoulders release a little, the tension dying back now that they’d broken the silence.

  “Go ahead.”

  The girl’s green eyes fell to the gun holstered at Darger’s hip.

  “Have you ever killed anyone?”

  The smile slid from Darger’s face, her gut twisting in knots the way it always did when James Joseph Clegg became a topic of conversation.

  “Yes. Once.”

  Nicole watched her intently.

  “Who was it?”

  Instead of meeting Nicole’s eyes, Darger stared out the windshield at the line of palm trees rushing past. “Someone a lot like the guy we’re looking for right now.”

  “So he murdered people?”

  Darger blinked a few times and finally glanced at Nicole when she answered.

  “Yes. He kidnapped five girls in Ohio, killed them, and then dismembered the bodies. Dumped them right out in the open for the police to find.”

  Darger hadn’t planned on getting so graphic with the description, but she didn’t really know how to sugarcoat someone like Clegg.

  “Jesus. That’s pretty sick.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Who’s sicker? The guy in Ohio, or the guy you’re looking for now?”

  There was no hesitation for Darger. “The guy we’re looking for now.”

  “Really? I read he only burns the bodies. Seems like cutting them up is worse.”

  “I can see why you’d think that. But part of it is the scale. James Clegg — that was the man’s name in Ohio — only killed five girls. And don’t get me wrong, that’s a lot, no matter what. But Leonard Stump has killed over 30, and those are just the ones we know about so far.”

  “But if you hadn’t caught James Clegg, do you think he would have killed that many?”

  “Hard to say. Probably. My partner always says they don’t stop. They get caught, or they die. So yeah, he would have killed more girls. But that’s not the only thing that makes Leonard Stump worse.”

  Darger stopped then, not really wanting to go further with the discussion. But Nicole’s interest hadn’t been sated.

  “Well? What is it?”

  A long sigh preceded Darger’s response.

  “When James Clegg dismembered those girls, they were already dead. As odd as it sounds, his primary goal wasn’t to hurt them.”

  Nicole stared at her for a few moments, and when she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.

  “And what does he do to them?”

  Darger didn’t need her to clarify that she was talking about Stump now. She gazed out at the orange-red desert in the distance.

  “We don’t know for sure.”

  They fell quiet for a while, the rumble of the car churning out indifference.

  “My turn,” Darger said.

  “What?”

  “To ask you a personal question.”

  Nicole rolled her eyes, but her lips held a trace of a smile.

  “You want to know why a nice girl like me has sex for money?”

  “Well… yeah. But I was going to try to make it sound less judgmental than that.”

  Her shoulders pulled up into a shrug.

  “I don’t know. Maybe there’s not a good answer. I guess it’s a paycheck like any other. Pays better than some things.”

  “Right.”

  “And it’s not like…. I mean, despite what people probably think, I never have to do anything I don’t want to do.”

  “Never?”

  Nicole shook her head before she went on.

  “If they want me to do something really crazy, I quote them such an insane amount of money that it makes it worth it. I mean, I have my limits. There are things I won’t do, no matter how much money they offer. But a lot of the fetishes sound kinda weird, but they’re pretty harmless.”

  “Have you ever had one of them get violent?”

  “A few times, yeah. Some guys mistakenly think the rough stuff comes included with the usual fee,” she said and then went quiet for a while.

  Again the engine’s hum rose to fill the quiet.

  “Had one guy choke me so hard that I blacked out.”

  As Nicole spoke, one of her hands went to her neck, a subconscious gesture, Darger thought. The girl ran her knuckles over the vulnerable flesh there, remembering the old hurt.

  “Christ. What did you do?”

  Nicole shrugged.

  “He was pretty freaked out. Kept apologizing. When I first passed out, I’m pretty sure he thought he’d killed me.”

  “He could have.”

  “Yeah, well. Got an extra hundred out of him, so… Besides, now I have this.” She pulled a pink and black zebra print rectangle out of her purse.

  Darger had seen something like it before.

  “A stun gun?”

  Nicole nodded and pushed the device back into the depths of her bag.

  “Never had to use it — knock on wood. Just knowing it’s there makes me
feel better, though.”

  The practical part of Darger’s mind couldn’t help but wonder if the weapon would be enough against someone like Stump, but she kept her mouth shut.

  “Anyway, you get pretty good at spotting the wackos. I think you have to. If anything feels off, I’m out.”

  The car thudded over patches in the asphalt, rhythmic thuds underlying Nicole’s monologue.

  “It’s not all about the money, anyway. I mean, it is. But it’s not for me. It’s for my son.”

  “You have a son?”

  Nicole nodded, a proud gleam in her eye.

  “Hunter. He’s eight. They’ve got him in the advanced math and science courses in school.”

  She paused a beat, eyelashes fluttering.

  “He’s on the spectrum, so his speech is a little delayed. But doing this means I can afford the best speech therapists. The best cognitive psychologist. Without the money, I don’t know what I’d do.”

  She held out a hand and stared down at her purple stiletto nails.

  “What about Hunter’s dad?”

  Nicole snorted. “He’s a deadbeat. Haven’t heard from him at all in…. I don’t know. It’s been years.”

  “You know you can take him to court.”

  “For what? He’s a loser. Works at a liquor store where his uncle pays him under the table. What little he gets he spends on beer and scratch-offs. Not like that’s going to change just because a court says he owes me. Owes us.”

  She looked out the window.

  “It’s better this way. I’m better off knowing it’s all on me. Under my control. It keeps me grounded. I gotta be smart.”

  There was a pack of cigarettes partially protruding from the zippered mouth of Nicole’s purse. She nudged the cellophane-wrapped package.

  “I’m trying to quit smoking because of my son. Because he needs me to be here. Always. Used to smoke a pack a day. Now I just need one or two after work. To wind down, you know? I figure clients prefer that I don’t smell like smoke, anyway, so it’s a win-win.”

  Darger nodded, and the quiet nestled over them for a stretch, but now she wasn’t so conversationally blocked.

  “Let’s say you could have any job… what would you do?”

  Nicole tilted her head to the right before she answered.

  “I’m pretty good at baking, I guess.”

  “Baking?”

  “Yeah, like, I want to be in one of those baking contests someday. The ones where you make really elaborate sculptures and shit. I’ve done a little chocolate work. Just at home, I mean. Everything has to be just the right temp. If you’re off by even a degree, the chocolate won’t set right. Loses its shine and turns all dull. Doesn’t snap the way it should, either.”

  “Would you go to culinary school, do you think?”

  Again Nicole paused, and when she did answer, she looked far away.

  “Yeah, I could do that. Go to school for baking. Yeah.”

  This time, when the silence descended upon them, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Darger let it stay.

  The city pulsed around them — a spastic thing flailing and blinking out the windows. Totally senseless, tasteless, and somehow stimulating nonetheless.

  A few turns later, they pulled up to the hotel. It was a dated looking building a few blocks off the Strip.

  “Thanks,” Nicole said as she got out of the car, though Darger didn’t know what she was thanking her for. The ride, maybe.

  The girl slipped into the night, growing smaller as she trailed away over the parking lot. The automatic doors whooshed open, two sheets of glass sliding out of her path, and Nicole disappeared into the building.

  Chapter 29

  Darger saw the image again every time she closed her eyes — the girl crossing the parking lot, passing through those open doors into the hotel lobby. Vanishing. If she focused on the memory long enough, it made the hair on her arms stand up.

  Darger’s chest had tightened when Nicole crossed that threshold, and now, ten minutes later, it remained stiff, her breathing shallow and strange. She wanted to swallow, to maybe help those muscles in her torso loosen up, but her mouth was dry.

  She squirmed a little in the car seat, trying to adjust so her holster would stop digging into her side, eyes never leaving that plate glass door across the lot. It was insane to sit in the car knowing what was about to happen just inside those walls. Uncomfortable. A violation. A case of too much information.

  She wanted to let her mind drift away, to think of something else, but she couldn’t do that. She had to stay alert. Vigilant. That was the whole point. If Nicole needed help, Darger had to be ready.

  She checked her phone. Nothing, of course. Nicole had told her that half an hour was the usual, and they weren’t even halfway there yet. It was going to feel like a year.

  At last, she managed to swallow, a little sluice of saliva in a dry throat. It didn’t help.

  Why did this scenario bother her so much? She wasn’t sure.

  Of course, everyone working the Stump case was on edge tonight. He was out there right now, more than likely plotting his next abduction. If not tonight, he’d do it tomorrow, the way Loshak figured it.

  But it wasn’t just the immediate danger of Stump. Something else here felt wrong to Darger. A sex thing, maybe.

  Was she a prude? They were consenting adults. No one was forcing Nicole to do anything, at least not in any direct sense — she said so herself. Still, this concept of two strangers arranging to have sex the way you might hire someone to remodel your kitchen didn’t sit right.

  It was sex without intimacy. The encounter reduced to the physical act. Yet that was how most animals reproduced, wasn’t it? But then maybe that was part of why it felt wrong. We were supposed to be different than our four-legged counterparts. More evolved. More civilized.

  Of course, the other extreme of society would insist you should be married first — a legally binding contract before coitus can occur. That was pretty weird in its own way, she decided.

  Movement fluttered in the distance, shaking her from her thoughts.

  The glass door jerked and opened, and Darger’s pulse quickened, pupils dilated, but no. It wasn’t Nicole.

  A janitor exited the front door, a frail older man pushing his cart. He emptied the ashtray and trash can near the entrance and wheeled his gear back inside.

  The intrusion brought Darger back to the moment, in any case, and she started a little when she realized how lost she’d gotten in her thoughts. She couldn’t do that. Had to stay focused.

  Again, she fidgeted in her seat, leaning to the left and then the right, raging against the gun and sheath digging into her hip. Nothing helped. She’d never had a holster bother her like this, but this bordered on unbearable. Maybe it was the car or the fact that the leather was new, not broken in yet. Regardless of the explanation, she should remember to bring her thigh holster tomorrow — avoid the misery.

  Thirty-four minutes had passed. Where was she? Surely these things didn’t run on a set schedule, but still. What could be taking so long?

  Darger stared at the door, willing Nicole to walk through it. There was movement behind the glass, and Darger leaned forward as if being a few inches closer might make a difference. A large man in an orange polo shirt came through, followed by two other men. They were all young, mid-to-late twenties, and they all had sunglasses tucked into the neckline of their shirts. There was no sign of Nicole.

  She should have asked more questions. She hadn’t thought to ask Nicole if she was meeting a regular or someone new. How could she be such an idiot?

  Her anxiety level rose with each passing moment.

  She counted out another thirty seconds. The sunglass trio was long gone. She couldn’t wait here any longer, doing nothing.

  Darger opened the car door and stepped out of the vehicle.

  The cool evening air swirled around her. It wasn’t all the way dark yet, but it was working its way there, and the chill had already desce
nded upon the city.

  Her boots clapped against the asphalt, a strident clatter that echoed in the emptiness. The walk across the lot felt slow. Tedious. She wanted to pick up the pace, to jog, to run, to sprint, but she kept her cool. She walked. Put one foot in front of the other.

  She would go inside, ask the clerk for help, ask him or her if they’d seen Nicole. Surely a girl like her would stick out. And then maybe she’d be able to pry the room number out of them, flash her badge or something. Whatever it took.

  Then what? Would she bust into the room? Just bang on the door? Call up to see if things were OK? She didn’t know. She’d worry about that when she got there.

  The streetlights buzzed overhead, still dim for the moment, their yellow glow slowly gaining strength as the night darkened around them.

  With a mechanical whir, the automatic front door slid open, revealing Nicole about to exit the lobby. She froze, looking a bit stunned when she saw Darger on the other side of the threshold.

  She’s OK, Darger thought. Relief loosened the knot in her gut.

  Everything’s fine. Thank Christ.

  Nicole opened her mouth to speak, then seemed to decide against it and brushed past the agent on her way to the car. That was when Darger realized she’d messed up big time.

  The points of Nicole’s heels rang out against the pavement as they crossed the parking lot. Each percussive click sounded like a reprimand.

  Tsk, tsk, tsk, Agent Darger.

  She didn’t speak until they were back in the car with the doors closed.

  “What the actual hell?”

  “I know, I’m sorry.” Darger felt her face redden, heat flushing her cheeks.

  “Someone could have seen you! If any of my clients find out I’m riding around with a cop…” Nicole shook her head, pulling her phone from her purse. “I should have known this wouldn’t work. I’m calling an Uber to come pick me up.”

  “No. Please, wait,” Darger begged.

  She closed her eyes and took a long breath.

  “I screwed up. I got worried something went wrong, and I panicked. Please give me another chance.”

  Nicole’s cheeks sucked in while she thought it over.

  “I won’t leave the car again. I swear.”