The man paced in front of them, staring at each one for a few seconds. He remained silent for the moment; in fact, Ashley had only heard him speak on three occasions since her arrival. He was expecting a visitor today, that much she’d discerned from a phone call he received two days prior.
A knock at the front door jolted Ashley straight. The man walked over to the door and opened it. Frigid winter air poured in as he held the door open for another man to enter.
Ashley couldn’t help herself; she peered out of the tops of her eyes, still keeping her head lowered, to try to get a look at the mystery guest. But she couldn’t see who it was without drawing attention to herself. And she didn’t want to be harmed unnecessarily; so far she hadn’t been touched aside from her wrist to attach it to the handcuffs.
It was strange: she and the others were fed three times a day and given plenty of water, and aside from the cold, the most unpleasant thing that had happened was the chafing of the handcuffs on her wrist. But she had the sinking feeling things were about to change.
“Great selection here, Walter.”
Walter? Ashley thought.
“My name is Mr. Ritter. And I’m sure all of you are wondering what’s happening? Because we all know, Walter here is no cunning linguist. And that’s the reason he was assigned for this special . . . task.” Mr. Ritter turned to Walter and patted him on the shoulder. “Well, let me be the first to tell you, you have all been chosen for a very specific reason.” Mr. Ritter stepped toward the end of the line farthest from Ashley. He reached out and lifted the woman’s chin and studied her face. Tears rolled down. “Pretty,” he said, then moved to the next in line. She, too, had tears streaming. “Exquisite.” Then to the next. “Beautiful.” When he reached Ashley, she felt the touch of his fingers on her chin but didn’t lift her head. She pushed against his grasp but couldn’t resist long. When she gave in, she lifted her head but shed no tears; instead, she stared directly into his eyes and gritted her teeth.
I will know your face now. And I never forget a face.
He stared back at her. His eyes were cold, calculated and he didn’t like to be challenged, not on anything.
“What’s this? No tears? Are you not afraid?”
Ashley didn’t speak, nor did she drop her head; she continued to glare right through him.
Mr. Ritter chuckled to himself and stepped back to stand in front of all four women once again. “Like I was saying, each of you has been chosen for a very specific reason. I’m sure all of you are aware of the similarities among you.” But the women were not aware; out of fear for their own safety, none had paid much attention to the others. “It’s okay. Look at each other.”
The women turned back and forth, studied each other. The similarities were uncanny. All about the same height. Same athletic build. Same color hair, eyes, everything.
“You see”—Mr. Ritter stalled, then took one step forward—“I have a job to do, a very significant task. Which compels me to pick one of you.”
Ashley gulped. Picked? For what? She most likely knew the answer.
“I have a list of clients.” He held up a black book.
How cliché.
“In it are people from all walks of life. A United States senator. A Russian gangster. A drug cartel leader. You name it. If you can think of it, I probably have access to a man—or woman, I don’t discriminate—who fits the bill.” Mr. Ritter walked toward Ashley and stopped in front of her. “You see, these people, they hire me to pick out the best, the brightest, the prettiest young women I can find. Then I bring those women to my clients one by one, and they bid on them. And to the victor go the spoils.” He winked.
“No. Please. Please.” The woman on the far end began to beg. “Don’t. You can’t.”
Mr. Ritter moved to face her. “Oh, honey, but I can.” She reached out for him with her hands tied, but he backed away preventing her touch. He turned his back to them, then spoke again. “Now the only question is, who do I choose first?”
Ashley shifted in her spot. She glanced at the girl next to her, who did the same. Hopelessness hung on their faces. “Eeny, meeny.” He grinned as he pointed to them individually. This sick, sadistic man enjoyed every part of this. His power over these women made him feel superior.
“Just get on with it,” Ashley said. She knew the others were writhing inside like she was.
Mr. Ritter paused and sighed. “You.” He pointed at Ashley.
Her stomach fell. He couldn’t mean it. No way she was going. Not now.
“You will be last,” Mr. Ritter said.
One of the women reached out her hand for him to stop. He walked over to her. “You, darling, you will be my first.” He grabbed her by the handcuffs and pulled her toward the front door.
She yanked against him and pleaded. “No. Please. No.” But she soon gave up her fight. Ashley wondered why? If she was taken, she would’ve done everything she could to break free from his hold. Perhaps the young woman was too scared. Too afraid what would happen if she didn’t follow Mr. Ritter’s instruction.
“Let go of her, you bastard,” Ashley said.
Walter opened the door, but Mr. Ritter paused before leaving with the scared young woman. He turned at Ashley’s call and nodded his head toward her. “Punish her. Make her understand.”
With his back turned, Walter reached down to his waist and ripped his belt free from the loops. Then he spun and started toward Ashley.
Ashley glanced nervously at the other women with a “help me” look on her face. But they couldn’t; both women walked to their mattresses and lay on them facedown. Not Ashley. If Walter wanted a fight, she would dish it out. Even with her handcuffs on, she’d do anything necessary to protect herself.
Walter curled the belt in half and stretched it out. A reverberating snap rebounded off the walls, but Ashley didn’t shudder. Once he was close enough, she stepped to the side and fired a kick directly at his midsection. With such a hard strike to the gut, he fell backward, but not completely off his feet. He took a moment to catch his breath.
“I won’t be easy prey.” She shook her head from left to right.
He didn’t seem to want to fight fair. On the cabinet was a pocket flashlight—not a normal flashlight, but an incredibly bright flashing strobe. Walter lifted it and flicked the button, directing a flash of light right into Ashley’s eyes. The brightness disoriented her for a second, and that’s when Walter made his move. Ashley dropped her head to avoid the brightness. Walter tackled her to the ground and flipped her over onto her stomach, rendering her legs useless. He put his knee into her back and began to whip her with the belt.
With each thrust, Ashley winced. He didn’t stop until his message was clear. Walter rose from the floor. She rolled on the ground writhing in pain and couldn’t move for almost twenty minutes. She lifted her head and crawled to her mattress, pulling herself on top and curling into a ball.
Walter stood over her as she lay there. At his presence she curled tighter, expecting more lashings.
“Don’t make me mad again. Or consider this a kiss on the cheek.”
3
Miami, Florida
COLLAR LED NIKI TO an apartment complex nearby. It was swanky. The building was all glass and over twenty stories high; it even came with a doorman.
“Ms. White.” The doorman nodded to Collar and opened the door for both women to enter.
Once inside the elevator, Niki asked, “Ms. White?”
“Another alias. This is my apartment.”
“Your apartment? How many do you have? One here, one in New York. Any others I should be aware of?” Niki asked.
“Many. But I’m not about to tell you where they all are.” Collar winked.
The elevator stopped on the twenty-first floor, the penthouse, and opened directly into the apartment. As Niki entered first, her mouth gaped. She walked over toward the floor-to-ceiling glass window that ran the entire wall of the living room.
“Are you kidding me?�
� Niki looked at Collar, then out at the vast open blue of the Atlantic Ocean. “This is incredible.”
“It is.”
“But how is it yours?” Niki didn’t mean to come off rude, but a place like that must have cost a pretty penny.
“Technically the apartment is ZULU’s, but they let me live in it whenever . . .”
“Whenever what?” Niki said.
“Never mind that now, let’s get to it.” Collar turned and led Niki to the bedroom.
She took one last look at the view, then followed Collar. Once she reached the bedroom, she realized it was not a bedroom at all but more of a crime scene lab. Pictures were on the wall posted above the bed, stuck together in a sort of web. They were pictures of men—men Niki had never seen before—and on top of each picture were smaller pictures of different women taped in each corner. Five pictures of men sprawled across the bottom row, then four above that, then three, two, and finally one atop them all, the peak of the pyramid.
“What is this, Collar?”
“The organization I alluded to on the street.”
“You said you thought it might be an organization, not that you had every man pegged.” She moved closer to the bedside to garner a better look.
“I assure you, this is not every man, and I do not have anyone pegged. Not yet.”
“Does the director know about this?”
“No. As I said, this is not a sanctioned mission.”
“You’re right. This is an obsession.” Niki climbed the mattress to get as close as she could. “How long have you been at this?” She turned to Collar.
“Since my sister was reported missing.”
“You connected all these men and women in two weeks?”
“I’ve had some help.”
“From who?”
“Friends.”
“Care to elaborate?”
All Collar did was grin.
“Guess not.” Niki started on the right side of the bottom row. A man’s face stared back at her. Ugly. Unrefined with a ragged beard in need of a shave. “Who’s this?”
“He goes by Walter, but that’s an alias. His real name is John Partridge,” Collar said.
Then Niki looked at the bottom corners. Photos of two women, pictures taken from a yearbook or maybe a sports team’s website, were on either side. Blondes dressed in uniform, one a cheerleader, the other a gymnast. But Niki could tell by their hairstyles that they weren’t taken recently. “And the women?”
They were Walter’s first victims.
Niki shot her a look of concern. “Victims?”
“Yes. He abducted them right outside their dorm rooms. Took them for a ride, brought them to a cabin in the woods, and . . .”
“And what? Did he kill them?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Actually, he didn’t assault them at all. He took them there to have dinner. To enjoy their company. But of course, once he let them go, they pressed charges and he was arrested.”
“What? Weird.”
“Tell me about it.”
“How long ago was that?”
“What do you mean?” Collar said.
“I mean, these pictures weren’t taken recently. I assume he did time for his abductions.”
Collar nodded. “Five years, then probation, but those girls were taken back in ’95.”
“Twenty-three years ago, and he only did five years? How’s he connected to this then?”
“I don’t know that he is, only that he lives near the area, and local police have . . . well, they haven’t been able to locate him for questioning.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s done anything wrong.”
“You’re right, Niki, but I’m just trying to connect the dots here. To find my sister.”
“So what does he have to do with all the other men up here?” Niki looked back to the wall.
“Again, I don’t know. This is not my area of expertise. Sure, I can take down a terrorist or organize a rescue mission in the Middle East, but this . . . I’m afraid this is out of my scope.”
“But somehow you think I can make heads or tails of it?”
“I’m not asking you to do that. Leave that to the FBI.”
“FBI? Is that who you’re partnering with on this?”
“Yes.”
Niki paused, then reiterated her point. “So you’re just asking me to be the bait?”
“Well yeah I guess.”
“What makes you think these assholes will even take me?”
“Come here.” Collar rolled her head to suggest Niki follow her.
Niki glanced one last time at the wall of fame, jumped off the bed, and walked behind Collar toward the living room.
When Niki entered the space, she didn’t notice the TV set up in the corner, once again mystified by the ocean blue. Collar lifted the remote and flipped on the power. A picture of Niki was frozen on the television with the word CHAMPION in bold beneath her face.
“What the hell is this?”
“The bait.”
Niki looked at Collar, who suggested Niki look back at the screen. Collar touched the play button on her remote and let the newscaster continue with the story.
“Chase Crane, a sophomore, has just broken the NCAA record and tied the Olympic record in the indoor two-hundred-meter dash. She’s also a part of the four-by-four-hundred-meter women’s relay team expected to dominate once again this coming weekend. I expect to see big things from her over the next couple years. Who knows, we may just be looking at the next great US Olympic athlete.”
Collar pressed pause on the screen again and turned to Niki.
Niki’s mouth fell open. “Chase Crane?” Niki said.
“I felt it was apropos considering your newfound record. Don’t you agree?”
Niki wasn’t laughing. “You’re crazy. This will never work.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what about the other athletes on the team? No one knows who I am. The coach, the girls, the guys, not one.”
“Relax. I took care of it. And this broadcast goes out tonight. It’s their lead story.”
“What do you mean, you took care of it? How? I only agreed to do this ten minutes ago?”
Collar grinned.
“You knew I’d do this.” Niki reeled.
“I know your past, Niki. So yes, of course I knew you would do this. But not for me. For you. And for the girls who’ve been taken.”
“Is your sister even one of the girls abducted? Or was that story bullshit?”
Collar stalled, swallowing her pride. “Actually it’s my niece.”
“You bitch.” Niki shook her head and headed to the center of the large living room and back toward the door to leave.
“Niki.” Collar chased after her. “Bottom line, these are bad guys. Bad guys who need to be taken down. And we need you, we need your skill set. You’ve been where these girls have been. You know what it feels like to be preyed upon, to be abducted. Now’s your chance to get them back. Take these bastards down. All of them, once and for all.”
Collar was right. She did have the skill set. Both through her training and in real life. She could use the rage she felt for Branson, her attacker on Jonas’s boat, when she was abducted almost two years prior. She could use her memories to find and rescue these women but also ultimately to stop this organization from taking any more young girls.
“Tell me what I need to do,” Niki said.
Collar reached into her pocket and pulled out a pamphlet. “Take this.”
It was a ticket from Miami to Minneapolis.
“When you get there, someone will be there to pick you up. An athlete from the team, if I’m not mistaken. He’ll bring you to the school. Everyone there will welcome you with open arms. At least that’s what I’m told from the head coach.”
“Right,” Niki said sarcastically.
“What?”
“You actually believe that? That a bunch of athlete
s will take well to someone posing to be better than they are? Some world-class future Olympian? All the athletes I know would be spurned by those fictitious achievements.”
“They won’t know you’re a fraud. Besides, just prove to them you’re worthy of your newfound glory.”
“How?”
“You used to run. Show them you still can.”
Niki dropped her head to the side. “That was high school. This is different.”
“Sure it is. But if I’m not mistaken, you did have a scholarship offer to run in college, did you not?”
“I did.”
“Like I said, show them you’re for real and no one will question anything.”
Collar left Niki’s side and walked back into the bedroom, leaving Niki to ponder her thoughts gazing out to sea. She returned moments later with a stack of pictures. “Take these. Study them. Get to know each of their faces. If you see any of them sniffing around campus, use this.” She handed Niki a cell phone. “Keep me up to date. My number, my new number, is saved inside.”
“What about the FBI?”
“When I know, they’ll know. I’ll keep them up to date with whatever you find.”
“And what about the director?”
“Like I said, he doesn’t know about this, and I intend to keep it that way.”
Then Niki swallowed a lump of spit that had gathered in her mouth. “And what happens if . . .”—she paused—“if all goes according to plan?”
“Gain information. Find out who is involved. Is it just one man or a collection of men? Where are they taking these women? What are they doing to them once they have them?”
Niki held up her hand to stop her. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? You know I’ll kill anyone who tries to touch me.”
“I have no doubt.” But she stopped there.
“And?”
“Try to keep your cover as long as you can, but if it comes to it and someone does try to put his hands on you, you have my permission to do anything necessary to survive.”
“And what if I find your sister, or um . . .”—Niki cleared her throat—“your niece?”
Collar dropped her head. “If you find her and she’s still alive, consider her an extension of your own body. Do I make myself clear?”
Third Degree Page 2